04. The Companion of Jesus

THE FORERUNNER. JOHN'S FIRST MEETING WITH JESUS. WITH HIM IN GALILEE, JERUSALEM, AND SAMARIA. "FOLLOW ME." THE APOSTOLIC APPOINTMENT. HIS NEW NAME. JAIKUS' DAUGHTER. THE TRANSPIGURATION. "WHO IS GREATEST?" FIRE FROM HEAVEN. "THY RIGHT HAND AND THY LEFT." GETHSEMANE AND THE CLOSING SCENES. THE RISEN LIFE.


PLANTING ourselves in the valley of the Jordan, in the fifteenth year of the Emperor Tiberius (which was not improbably a Sabbatic year), we find a remarkable spiritual movement going forward under the ministry of John the Baptist, very vividly described by all the Evangelists.

I image to myself a man of calm, saintly look, with eyes that seemed to pierce the Invisible, moving men not by his wild gesticulations, but by the deep solemnity of his spirit, the simple, fearless truth he spoke, and his appeal to the Messianic longings and hopes which then prevailed. Withdrawn from the luxurious world, with its enervating and selfish influences, he had lived to the age of thirty among the mountains west of the Dead Sea, preparing in solitude for the brief but great work of his life. He is however no hermit cut off from his fellow-men and taking no interest in their affairs, but a keen-observer and discerner; and at the appointed hour he steps suddenly forward, crying to

JOHN THE BAPTIST.

the nation, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."

We must not empty his word "*Repent!*" of its mighty meaning. It took *God* for granted, and sin. It looked to the errors and corruptions of the whole life of the day. It required a profound inward change as a "preparing of the way" of the Messiah. No mere temporary and superficial pain will satisfy the word. We find plentifully enough among men self-accusings, vain regrets, shame because sin is discovered, rage because sin has falsified its promise—making up a state bitter almost as hell—while yet there is no real change of mind as regards God. The Baptist's call looks to something not merely deeper, but essentially different. It requires a reversal of the whole existing attitude of men's hearts and minds. It is based on the near approach of the kingdom of heaven, which he is able to announce. Those who come to him confessing their sins, he baptizes beneath the flow of the swift river, and they form a special nucleus of waiters for the advent of the King.

His voice has power, and stirs the land to its remotest borders. Great multitudes gather to him; among them Jesus of Nazareth, who being baptized is pointed out by sign and voice from heaven as the Son of God, and immediately after disappears in the wilderness, east of the river, whence He emerges again at the end of His forty days' conflict with the Tempter. One day, on His re-appearing, the Baptist stood on the watch, attended by two of his disciples, Andrew and John,* fishermen from Bethsaida,

* Of course it is an inference that the unnamed disciple is John; but it is one which may be drawn with confidence. The time was "about the tenth hour." In chapter xix. 14, John adopts a reckoning which, if followed here, might give us ten in the morning. If so, they spent the whole day with Jesus. Augustine explains the mystery of the tenth hour by telling us that the number ten indicates the Law, which was given in ten precepts, and that the time was now come for the Law to be fulfilled by Love. Such fanciful explanations are common in the early writers.

ANDREW AND JOHN.

and, seeing Jesus as He walked, he said, "Behold the Lamb of God." He wished them to follow. As Chrysostom says, in his Homily on the words, "Christ the heavenly Bridegroom came to join to Himself the Church; He said nothing, but merely came. It was His friend the Baptist who put into His the bride's right hand." Small souls may not understand this willingness to lose disciples—this willingness to decrease that *He* might increase; but great and true souls do, saying gladly, "This my joy therefore is fulfilled."

The two young men silently followed, without venturing to address Him. Jesus turned and saw them following, and, having graciously questioned them, invited them to spend the day with Him. Gladly they complied. The conversation is a secret; * but its impression was such that they immediately attached themselves and began to bring others to Him as disciples. Our best help towards understanding the blessedness of the meeting is the recollection of that hour when He first revealed Himself to our own hearts as Saviour, in what Herbert calls the "first glance" of His "sweet and gracious eye." For John it is no unrepeated interview, as when two ships meet on the ocean, exchange signals, and pass onward each on its course, but is the beginning of a life-long fellowship. From henceforth he never passes beyond the orbit of this attraction; the hopes now kindled never die.

It is instructive to compare the experience of John with that of Paul. In the case of Paul, we find a man of

* As so much else. The silences of Jesus are like God's own in the matter of men's confidences. The delicacy—(a finer thing than our "honour")—is very noticeable in what He does not tell or inspire to be told, as well as in what He has told and inspired to tell. Doubtless, as a matter of memory, John had it in his power to report all that was said: but "something sealed" his lips.

CHRIST'S PUBLIC MINISTRY.

powerful nature committed out and out against the cause of Jesus, thoroughly conscientious in his hostility, not merely standing out against the Gospel as a fraud or delusion, blasphemous in its very essence, but resolved to put it down. This man is suddenly arrested in the mid-career of his opposition. There is a mighty shock to his nature; and for three days he can neither eat nor drink. With John it seems to have been otherwise. We cannot indeed tell what the Baptist's ministry may have been to him; how the sorrows of death may have compassed him and the pains of hell gat hold upon him. But in coming to Jesus, he is "*dram*," as with the cords of love and the bands of a man. There are those who think that all is not right with a man unless there is something approaching convulsion in the bringing of him to God. For myself, I entertain no manner of doubt that the great change is often accomplished thus. But the convulsion is not of the essence of the change. Often it is the sign of resistance and struggle against God, and has more to do with unbelief than with faith. Let us not limit God, or prescribe to Him, but accept His grace in whatever way it comes.

The public life of Jesus falls into three well-marked divisions, each with a special character of its own. The first division, comprising nearly a year, belongs mainly to Jerusalem. The characteristic feature of it is His assertion of Messiahship before the rulers and people. He comes to His own in their metropolis and temple, makes His claim, and enforces recognition or rejection. The first three Evangelists give no account of this part of His ministry; only they leave room for it between the Temptation, and the imprisonment of the Baptist. The blank is partially filled in, but only partially, by the Gospel of John i. 43—v. 47. From these chapters we learn that after a brief visit to Galilee,

THE TEMPLE PURGED.

He goes up to Jerusalem, and there takes action before the nation, and particularly its rulers, as the Christ, and abides their decision, which is given against Him. The proud and worldly-hearted men of Jerusalem could not recognize the Divine even when they saw it. The words of Isaiah were fulfilled in them about blinded eyes and hardened hearts. Many indeed believed in His name when they saw the signs which He did: but He did not commit Himself unto them, because He knew all men, and needed not that any should testify of man; for He knew what was in man.

The purifying of the temple may be taken as the distinctest example of His assertion of Messiahship at this time. It is the feast of the Passover, and probably the first day of it. Entering the temple, He finds in it the sellers of oxen and sheep and doves, and the money-changers sitting—all quite right *per se*, but not *there*—and having made a scourge of small cords, He drives them all forth, muttering and cringing, no doubt,\* along with the sheep and the oxen, and pours out the changers' money, and overthrows the tables, and says to them who sold the doves, *Take these things hence! make not My Father's house an house of merchandise!*

It was not the act of a burning eyed zealot, nor yet a mere rebuke of the priests and rulers who permitted such things to be; but an avowal of authority in the house of God, associated with holy and glorious indignation at the desecration that was practised, indignation which the disciples recognized as "the zeal of Thine house." He as good as takes possession of the place. In our time, He would have

\* It was not the weight or sharpness of the scourge that told. Milton touches the secret when he writes—

And felt *how awful goodness is.*

THE MESSIANIC CLAIM.

been handed over to the magistrate on a charge of assault. A private person has no right to take the law into his own hands. No more had a private person in Jerusalem in those days. I infer that when the Jews asked Him, *What sign shewest Thou unto us, seeing that Thou doest these things?* it was not a mere off-hand inquiry on the spot, but a deliberate and formal question put by the rulers in view of an understood Messianic claim. He answers solemnly, in words that must have both perplexed and astounded them, *Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up*; looking forward to His death on Calvary and His resurrection on the third day. In this answer lies the whole boundless presentiment of all futurity. It stuck to His enemies' ears in variously perverted forms, aye, and went fathomlessly deeper—into their consciences—and at length was made use of at the final capital arraignment of the bold Speaker.* The thing to observe is, that He calls the attention of the priests and rulers to Himself, in connection with a claim of right to purify His Father's house; and that too at the most solemn service of the year, and under the eye of the assembled tribes of Israel; and exhibits Himself (enigmatically indeed) as the purifier of religion and through death the builder of the everlasting temple.†

As regards John's attendance on the Lord during this period, it was only occasional, though perhaps more frequent than that of any other of the disciples. We gather that he accompanied Him to Cana, where he witnessed the "beginning of miracles;" that he went up with Him to Jerusalem to the Passover; that he returned with Him to Galilee, going through Samaria; and that he visited Jerusalem again

* H. Ewald.

† The purifying of the Temple, an act involving authority in the domain of religion, was the first public act of Jesus in Jerusalem after entering on His ministry: on His last visit He repeats the act, in an almost identical manner. The claim of authority was unmistakable, first and last.

MINISTRY IN GALILEE.

at the next feast. With slight exception Jesus is out of our view during this period (as during that mysterious life-dawn in Nazareth), while it would seem that John and the other disciples, not yet organized into a community, return to their ordinary employments, for which their intercourse with Jesus has not unfitted or disinclined them.

Though we have no record, we may nevertheless imagine with a reasonable measure of certainty, how the life of the young man would proceed. He is busy as formerly, from day to day, with the commonplaces of a fisherman's outer existence; but all the while the thoughts, longings, and hopes, inspired by the announcement of the Baptist and by his own interviews and intercourse with Jesus, are taking more distinct shape and deeper root in his heart, and preparing him for his great destiny. It would be with him as it was with David the young shepherd after Samuel had anointed him in the midst of his brethren.

The second division of the Lord's ministry belongs to Galilee, which in a sense was to be the "seed-plot" for the rest of the world. Jerusalem has not received Him, and He withdraws from it, though not finally and utterly, to labour among a simpler people, not dominated by "scholasticism" and "priest-rule." Here He prepares the living stones that are to lie at the base of the living temple. The Messiah-life is lived without the Messiah-claims being put so prominently forward. God-taught hearts shall recognize Him. This division extends from His leaving Jerusalem as a centre, to His final return thither to die, comprising about a year and a half.* Leaving the pleasant and sequestered

* That is to say, on the supposition that about three years intervened between His baptism and His death. The interval, however, may have been considerably greater. The extreme limits are the fifteenth year of Tiberius and the recall of Pontius Pilate, embracing a space of eight years. H. Browne (*Ordo Saclorum*) compresses it into little more than a year, reviving an old belief.

“FOLLOW ME.”

mountain-village of Nazareth, where His life had hitherto been passed, He chooses for His head-quarters the town of Capernaum, on the western shore of the Galilean lake, whence, accompanied by His disciples, He makes numerous excursions outward (we find traces of eight or ten), taking in that whole region, which in area was about equal to the county of York. We have not sufficient *data* to arrange His journeyings chronologically, or to draw the lines of movement; but we can form a very distinct idea of what goes on.

Loving disciples (like the Galilean women named in Luke viii. 2, 3) minister to Him of their substance. Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head. He receives lodging and hospitable entertainment from friendly hearts in the different places He visits; it may be now from a Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, now from a Zacchaeus; and at another time He will spend the night under the starry sky or with only the shelter of overspreading branches. He proceeds from place to place on foot, and great multitudes attend and press upon Him, not in cities only, but even in desert and solitary places. He meets individual inquirers; teaches in the synagogues, in private houses, on the sea-shore, on mountain sides; proclaims the kingdom of God; graciously gathers the outcast; heals all manner of sickness and disease and the worse than madness of the soul, pouring forth blessings on all sides with the richest profusion. It is the springing up of day on those who sit in the region and shadow of death.

Early in this period He called John to be a personal attendant. Finding him on the sea-shore, washing and mending his nets, as if with no thought of any different or higher career, He said to him, *Follow Me*. It was not the voice of a stranger, but of One in whom he already believed and hoped, ever since that memorable interview on

MODE OF LIFE.

the banks of the Jordan. From that moment he became the Lord's constant companion, a sharer of His wanderings, a joyous hearer of His words, a witness of His mighty works, receiving the impress of His personality in a sympathetic and loving soul. He is not now a mere ordinary observer, a private person following Jesus, a unit among the "great multitudes of people," but a chosen witness.

"I prayed to God," says George Fox, "that He would baptize my heart into *the sense of all conditions*, so that I might be able to enter into the needs and sorrows of all." This too the Lord does for the Apostle. His manner of life henceforth is exceedingly different from what it had been before. Sometimes a picture is painted in which it appears as a delightful wandering from place to place amidst the beautiful scenery of Galilee—a smiling holiday in a terrestrial paradise—in the society of a joyous-hearted "Visionary." "The meetings in the meadows, how full of excitement and how picturesque; and then the evenings spent at the large, shady homesteads by the side of flowing streams, with their fruits, their vines, and their fig trees!" * In point of fact, it was attendance on the Man of Sorrows, and selfishness must have turned away from it. If we crowd into one life whatever of toil and privation there is for an evangelist, for a teacher, for a physician, for a visitor of the poor, the sick, the ignorant, and the neglected, for a friend and Saviour of the guilty,—the day spent without food or rest, and the night often given to prayer, the "contradiction of sinners against Himself" continually meeting Him,—the burden of a world's sin and woe on His heart,—we shall understand what John's following of the Lord must have been.

It would create an untrue impression were we to take only those occasions on which his name is mentioned, as if there were contact only then; we must read the record

* Renan.

THE APOSTOLIC APPOINTMENT.

remembering that he is present throughout, and cognizant of all the wondrous disclosures made by the Only-begotten of the Father. To comment on all he witnessed would be to comment on the Four Gospels; even to allude to all he witnessed would be to reprint these Gospels. Hence I confine attention to the occasions on which he is introduced by name.

After being a chosen companion for some time, he is solemnly ordained an Apostle,—one of twelve who should go forth, endowed with the Holy Spirit, to testify what they had seen and heard, and to work in the Lord's name, for all ages and nations. In the history of the Church, great men have been raised up providentially for great works. The Apostles however received, in addition, the direct call of Christ Himself to their office. No gifts or endowments could have made them apostles without this call. Consequent on this call, they received also a special training, unsystematic and informal, very unlike what is given in our colleges, but fitted to prepare them very wonderfully for their future work. They were admitted into the Lord's closest intimacy and confidence. They enjoyed what might be called His private teaching. They were students of divine truth under Him. They were admitted to a share of His work, and were gradually prepared to walk and labour by themselves, without His immediate presence.

I wish we had "training classes" after this example for native preachers and evangelists in our various mission-fields, home and foreign. Ever so much might be taught in this way, which could not be thrown into forms for the intellect and communicated in a college lecture-room.

The apostolic appointment was very solemnly made. Jesus Himself spent all the previous night in prayer, upon an unnamed mountain, under the canopy of heaven. At dawn of day He gathered His disciples around Him, and

INSTRUCTIONS.

from among the whole number He chose twelve men, not by hap-hazard, or according to outward appearance, but in full knowledge of what they were, to whom He gave the name of Apostles. These twelve He endowed with power to cast out unclean spirits and to heal all kinds of sickness and disease, and commissioned them to go forth and proclaim, "The kingdom of heaven is at hand."

His instructions in appointing them look far beyond the immediate present, and involve principles of universal and permanent application. As they have received freely, they are to give freely, and are thus prohibited from any mercenary use of their office. At the same time, they are not to make provision for their own temporal necessities; they are not to depend on their private fortunes; they are to leave purse and scrip behind them, the Lord engaging to carry out this principle in His dealings with them, "The workman is worthy of his meat." Coming to town or city they are to abide wherever a true welcome is given them for the Lord's sake. Though the errand on which they are sent is so gracious, they shall encounter opposition of all sorts, and from all quarters. Even blood relationship shall not avail for their defence: the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child.

Shall they then be silent, or speak with bated breath, or spread their message secretly? Nay, but on the contrary, what Jesus tells them in the darkness they are to speak in the light; what He whispers into their ear, they are to proclaim on the housetop, not fearing the face of man, but trusting in the Lord's defence and keeping. Throughout the strife which their going forth shall arouse, they are to be faithful unto death. Those who receive them and show them kindness for the Lord's sake—even to the giving of a cup of cold water—shall in nowise lose their reward.

Associated with the Lord, they become bound together as

JAIRUS' DAUGHTER.

a brotherhood, small and feeble indeed in itself, but forming the seed-germ of the mighty brotherhood that should embrace heaven and earth. John is called and set apart at the same time with the others. In ordaining him, Jesus names him a "Son of Thunder" (Mark iii. 17), a name descriptive of his spiritual character, in its intensity, power, and glowing zeal. This action of Jesus stands parallel to that which meets us in the Old Testament, when, in some vitally momentous hour of their experience, a new name was given to some of God's servants: thus, Abram becomes *Abraham*, and Jacob, *Israel*. Grace sometimes takes a very small soul, of naturally mean constituents, and fashions even out of *that* soul an instrument for great uses; but in this case it is a great nature that is chosen, with splendid, even imperial attributes, with magnificent capacity of outlook and receptivity, with heights and deeps and grandeurs beyond the rest, full of the loftiest possibilities, answerable in some measure to the greatness of the Lord Himself. The man is now a prince in the kingdom.*

Returning to Capernaum from one of His circuits of Galilee, the Lord makes John a chosen spectator of one of His mightiest and holiest works the raising of Jairus' daughter from the dead. This does not derive its importance from being the earliest miracle of the kind wrought by

* One gets an idea of the greatness of a chief of men from the greatness of those whom he gathers around him, and who carry out his plans. Thus, for example, one infers that Cromwell must have been a great-natured man, from the fact that he had Howe for his chaplain, Milton and Marvell for his secretaries, Blake for his admiral, and so on. *Noscitur a sociis*, and we might add, *a servis*. So we reason, perhaps unconsciously, in the case of other historic names. Speaking reverently, I would say, that in a parallel manner, we recognize the "sovran" greatness of our Lord in the fact that He gathered into His service and commanded men of such varied and magnificent natures as a Peter, a John, and a Paul; not to speak of men in other times. His heroes are no less wonderful than the most wonderful in the ancient days of Israel.

"THY DAUGHTER IS DEAD."

Jesus, for it is all but demonstrable that He had already restored the son of the widow of Nain, in the presence not only of His disciples but of many strangers. Its importance rests on other considerations. The story itself is very touching. A child of twelve, the only daughter of a ruler of the synagogue named Jairus, falls sick and is ready to die. We know not whether death crept near slowly and stealthily, or sprang suddenly upon her, as with the bound of a tiger from its lair: the simple entry is, "She lay a dying."*

Some of us will read the story through experiences of our own. We recall the alternations of hope and fear in our bosoms over some dear ones laid low, the suspense, the sinking of heart, the prayers that were groanings, our choking reception of the doctor's words when he told us to hope no more; and thus we interpret to ourselves what was going forward in this ruler's house long ago.

The father hears of the return of Jesus to the neighbourhood, goes to seek Him, tells his story, and presents his request, we may imagine with what lowly yet pressing wistfulness. Without saying what He will do, Jesus goes with him. Every step He takes is a promise, and the father would understand it so. He is stayed on the way, however, by a woman who has suffered from an issue of blood for twelve years, and who touched the hem of His garment as He went, and was healed of her infirmity. Meanwhile, in the tarrying that ensues, the message is brought to the father, "*Thy daughter is dead: trouble not the Master.*" There seems nothing now but to say, *The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.* We know not how the words

* "We watched her breathing through the night,

Her breathing soft and low,

As in her breast the wave of life

Kept heaving to and fro."

"TALITHA CUMI."

of the messenger smote the father's heart; but instantly Jesus stretches out a helping hand to him, saying, "Fear not; only believe!" and again He begins to accompany him to the house. Every step is promise again, only of more wondrous kind. Every step now means, "I am the Resurrection and the Life;" and He can no more falsify His "steps of grace" than His word of grace.

When He reaches the house, it is already filled with the loud lamentations of the professional mourners—on one side, "flute-players who were playing the established death's melody"; on the other side, bewailing kindred. He rebukes the noise, adding, "The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth;" but they laughed Him to scorn, knowing that she was dead,—the laughter genuine if the grief was not. He put them all forth, as Joseph put forth the Egyptians ere he revealed himself to his brethren; and then with His three disciples, Peter and James and John, He entered the chamber where the maiden lay. She has passed beyond the bounds of earth, beyond the bounds of time. There is the unbreathing marble, the darkening cheek that has scarce lost the warm tint of life, the lately vermilion lip already ashen, the fringed lids drawn down by loving fingers over eyeballs now sightless as stone, the unutterably tranquil and moveless repose that no passionate outcry can break. Jesus lifts the passive hand, cold and heavy in death—John all the while looking on and listening—and at the two words "Talitha cumi" life returned, and she arose.

John is a witness of the transaction from first to last; not only of the wonder at the end, but of all that led up to it. To such a soul as his it is not a revelation of mere omnipotence; but of tenderness, graciousness, loving-kindness, the calm consciousness of Divine resources, and all that lies in that unfathomable name, "The Eternal Life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us."

"A HIGH MOUNTAIN APART."

The next great event in the Lord's life of which John is a chosen witness, is the Transfiguration. It takes place in the afternoon of the Galilean ministry. Jesus makes only one circuit more—the most solemn of all—before He returns to Jerusalem to die. These closing weeks are shadowed by His approaching sufferings; the cross is ever present to His view; once and again He shows His disciples that He must suffer many things, and be rejected and put to death, and after three days rise again. Ere the darkness finally closes round, one brief and marvellous glimpse is given of the kingdom in its power.

He has conducted His disciples northward to the "coasts of Caesarea Philippi," beyond the waters of Merom, just on the plateau beneath the great Mount Hermon, where the fountains of the river Jordan burst forth, and He seems to be still lingering in that neighbourhood. Toward evening, taking with Him Peter and James and John, He climbs "a high mountain apart,"* where for some time He continues in prayer, the three praying in silence near. On another occasion we might think of the grandeur of the scene spread out to the eye, the silver-shining moon and the bright stars in the intense, unfathomable azure; but all this is forgotten in presence of the Redeemer praying. Gradually the eyes of the three disciples become heavy-lidded, till of a sudden they close. How long their

* The name of Tabor is inextricably entwined with the story, not only in tradition, but throughout literature. The objection that the mountain was crowned with a fort need not count for much. The narrative gives no spectacular standing on a peak: all that is required is "a high mountain"; and in such a mountain as Tabor there are solitudes everywhere. The six days' interval, besides, allows ample time for making the journey. But Mark defers the going through Galilee till after. It was not till the transfiguration had taken place and the healing of the lunatic child, that "they departed thence, and passed through Galilee." More probably the event took place on the side of Hermon itself. As to the "apart," see Matt. xiv. 13, 23; xvii. 19; xx. 17; xxiv. 3.

THE TRANSFIGURATION.

sleep lasted they could not tell; but they are awakened by a bright effulgence streaming on their eyes, and when they look up, there is their Master transfigured before them.

The sleep must not be regarded merely as a sign of their human weakness, but as preparation for the glorious vision. It is a thing well known to all that, waking in the watches of the night out of a deep sleep, the false excitement of the day being gone, some eternal truth will often present itself to the mind with awful, self-revealing clearness, and overwhelming power. Read in the light of this fact, those psalms which speak about remembering God upon the bed, and meditating upon Him in the night watches, have a fuller meaning. I cannot help thinking that the sleep of the three disciples on this occasion was a holy preparation for that which the Lord was to show them. It was a shorter and easier road out of the world of sleep, than out of the world of waking activities, into the unveiled kingdom of heaven.

When their eyes were closing, they had been beside the Man of Sorrows as He knelt in prayer. Now what a change! The fashion of His countenance is altered. Light shines forth from it like the sun. In the face is seen more than the radiance of a heavenly soul; it is rather the Shechinah-glory shining through the veil. His raiment too is white and glistening, whiter than fuller could white them, white as the snow which gleams far above, in its dazzling purity, on lofty Hermon.

Two men are with Him from the unseen world—ancient inhabitants of this—Moses, the giver of the Law, and the prophet Elijah, its great restorer—the representatives of all that was most exalted under the Old Covenant. They “appear in glory,” and converse with Him about the decease, the “exodus,” which He was soon to accomplish at Jerusalem: that mighty event to which both the Law and

MOSES AND ELIAS.

the Prophets looked forward, and to which all subsequent ages look back.

The exodus of both these men had been very wonderful. In secretness and mystery, after surveying the Promised Land from the top of Nebo, Moses died "on the mouth of the Lord," as if the Lord kissed away his breath; * and the Lord buried him in one of the ravines there, so that no man knoweth of his sepulchre. Elijah went up to heaven by a chariot of fire and horses of fire, in a whirlwind. The exodus of Jesus was to be very different:—through shame and uttermost agony, with arms outstretched upon the cross, and thorn-crowned head. This exodus is the subject of conversation. The theme became the moment; for all the felicities and glories of "the kingdom in power" rest on that "decease" which has been "accomplished at Jerusalem."

When the conversation ends, Peter exclaims, as eager to detain the glorious vision, "Lord, it is good to be here; if Thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles, one for Thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias;" not knowing what he said.† While he spoke, a bright cloud over-

* In the Legend of the Death of Moses, as given by Rev. S. Bering-Gould in *Legends of Old Testament Characters from the Talmud*, three angels dig the grave on the mountain, and Moses lies down in it, closes his eyelids, presses his hand on his heart, and places his feet in order. Then the Lord calls to the soul to come forth and mount to Paradise, but the soul has not courage to come. Then He promises a place in the highest heaven, beneath the Cherubim and Seraphim who bear up the eternal throne; but still the soul doubts and quakes. "Then God bent over the face of Moses, and kissed him. And the soul leaped up in joy, and went forth with the kiss of God to Paradise."

† "If the contemplation of Christ's glorified manhood so filled the Apostle with joy that he was unwilling to be sundered from it, how shall it fare with them who attain to the contemplation of His glorious Godhead? And if it was so good a thing to dwell with two of His saints, how then to come to the Heavenly Jerusalem, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn that are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all—these not seen through a glass darkly, but face to face?"—*Anselm*.

PROPHET, PRIEST, KING.

shadowed them, and a Voice came out of the cloud, "*This is My beloved Son; hear Him!*" They fell on their faces on the grassy mount, sore afraid: and when next they lifted up their eyes the heavenly visitants were gone; the glory had vanished; they saw no man save Jesus only. Moses and Elias, the servants, have disappeared; only the Son remains.

Of this marvellous and profoundly significant event, John is a chosen witness. It was something to the Lord Himself—though *what* must remain in mystery. It was something to the three disciples who witnessed it; to say the least, it was the completion of the teachings of this period, and the introduction to the events that were about to transpire, and must have seemed in the life of the Man of Sorrows like the light in the heart of the furnace-smoke when Abram came through his horror of great darkness. But, beyond all this, it has a common meaning for all believers, being part of the great Christian revelation. It is a symbol of the harmony of old and new, a disclosure of the dignity of the Lord's person above the greatest in the Old Testament, a testimony to the vital importance of His death, a momentary glimpse of the kingdom in its power, a token of His mediatorial supremacy and glory—kingly, priestly, and prophetic.

In our thinking, we keep these offices distinct from each other, conceiving of them separately and in succession. But in Him they meet and form a Unity, for which we in our theological nomenclature have no name. We know of kings, but He is not a King merely. We know of priest-kings, like Melchizedek; but He is not a Priest-King merely. He is King, Priest, and Prophet, in one, and this is exhibited for one brief hour in the Transfiguration. Here is Kingliness fulfilling the word, "There be some standing here who shall not taste of death till they see the Son of Man coming in His *kingdom*." Here is Priesthood—seen

WHO IS GREATEST?

in the decease that He was to accomplish at Jerusalem. And here is Prophet-hood—declared in the word never spoken concerning any other, “*Hear Him!*” His Kingliness is not reward bestowed upon Him for His fulfilment of the functions of Priest and Prophet, but is fundamental and original; He is King first, and His prophetic and priestly work is the carrying forth of His Kingliness. All this bodies itself out in the Transfiguration. The influence of the scene upon John’s mind at the time is not declared; but we can see it in his Gospel, as when, long years after, he wrote these words, “*We beheld His glory, the glory as of the Only-begotten of the Father.*”

Shortly after the Transfiguration there arose a reasoning among the twelve as to who is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. A deep and vital subject, on which it is well to be instructed. We must not blame the disciples for discussing it. I do not think it charitable to affirm that they “wrangled” about it, and that “*of course*” the question with them was not about greatness “in the true, heavenly signification of the word, but in a common, earthly, and carnal sense, and one to merit rebuke.” Was it not the very perception that their Master’s view of greatness was different from the world’s that led to the discussion? Was it not that a higher world was dawning upon their inward eye? There were wrong feelings, doubtless, in their minds; but at least the question is a worthy and noble one.

The question is brought for decision to Jesus, He Himself apparently introducing it. Without going back upon their discussion as they walked in the way, He deals with the subject itself. His whole manner of dealing with it is noteworthy. First of all, He “sat down”—a significant act in the light of what follows. Then He calls the twelve around Him, and says, “If any man desire to be first, the same shall be last of all, and servant of all.” The desire of

THE LITTLE CHILD.

precedence for the sake of personal honour or advantage is alien from the spirit of Christ. The lowliest place is noblest if it be the place of service and usefulness; he who brings up the rear, in humility and obedience to the Lord, is foremost of the band. Saying these words, "He took a child and set him in the midst." As I read the narrative, He selects the child; any one would not have done; the child selected is "one of these little ones that believe in Me" (Mark ix. 42). This act of His was full of significance, and would have been a complete answer to them, even if He had not said a single word more. There, He tells them by His act, there in parable is the greatness concerning which you have been disputing.

Beyond the act, however, we have also His words of explanation. Taking the child in His arms, He says, "Whosoever shall receive one of such children in My name receiveth Me; and whosoever shall receive Me, receiveth not Me but Him that sent Me." What is meant by "receiving" the Lord symbolizes by taking the child into His arms. We can see the whole scene—the love and tenderness and protection of Jesus, on the one hand; and the child's confiding, happy look, "Safe in the arms of Jesus." He who shall so receive a believing child receiveth Christ Himself; nay, receives the Father who sent Him. The most child-like are Christ's truest representatives. The most Christ like thing we can do, in relation to these child-like ones, is to receive them in love and tenderness, even as He took them up in His arms. When the question of greatness is considered from this view-point, it will be stript of many perplexities. Self-assertion, jealousy, lofty looks, ambition to climb above others, and things of like kind, springing from the spirit that makes self the centre, will be felt to be utterly out of keeping with greatness in the Christian sense.

As the Lord is speaking, John remembers the case of

"HE FOLLOWETH NOT WITH US."

one whom they had seen casting out devils, and whom they had forbidden, because "he followeth not with us." I do not suppose that they fancied they had a monopoly of healing, and wished to guard it from this unlicensed practitioner; nor that they were moved by the "pride of officialism" as even a good man may object to another good man doing good in "my parish." More probably, they feared some injury to their Master's cause. The man may have seemed to them one who touched the ark with unhallowed hands. Yet what if he were really one of the "little ones"? Whatever may have been the association of ideas in John's mind, he now calls this case up, and brings it under the notice of the Lord.

We must not assume that it was he who interfered with the nameless man, and tried officiously to stop him; he merely fell in with the rest—"*we saw, we forbade*"—and now he reports the case in order to elicit the Lord's judgment for their common instruction and guidance. Was it right or was it wrong to do what we did? The Lord answers, "*Forbid him not; for he that is not against us is for us;*" the "Forbid not," with its added reason being as much as to say, *Wish him rather God-speed: his heart is in the right place; he is giving us aid.* It might indeed have been better if the man *had* followed with the disciples; it may have been his fault that he did not. Had the Lord been dealing *with the man*, He might have shown him this. But in dealing *with the disciples*, the man's aloofness from their company is neither approved nor disapproved; only they are bidden to regard him as a friend and fellow-helper.

Here is a word that goes very deeply into the question of practical Christian work. The man who is working on Christ's side, even though he does not fall in with us, is not to be hindered, nor regarded suspiciously or strangely. There is often perplexed uneasiness among good men about

MOVING TOWARD JERUSALEM.

this matter. Jealousy has crept in where there might have been holy emulation; estrangement and half-dislike where there might have been mutual confidence. We have not always had the pleasure we should have had in good work not done by us or our friends, or in noble Christian character existing beyond our borders. There has even sprung up an unhappy feeling of chagrin and mortification, as if we were cut out of some honour that belonged of right to us. We may not have gone the length of forbidding others (even in our hearts) to do the Lord's work, because they followed not with us; but we have looked askance at them, and have come short of Paul's word, "I therein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice." The teaching now given to John goes farther than mere "toleration" of those who are not of our special fellowship; it paves the way for hearty delight in every good work wrought in the name and power of Jesus Christ.*

The time at length approaches for Jesus to be "received up" into His glory. So He steadfastly sets His face towards Jerusalem, with a will surrendered to His Father, knowing the dark and terrible things immediately in advance. His march to Jerusalem gathers awe from something in the manner of it, as well as from the often-reiterated intimations of His approaching death. The trembling disciples follow Him, amazed and afraid. On His way, standing in need of refreshment and lodging for the night, He sends forward two disciples to a neighbouring Samaritan village to make preparations; but the villagers refuse to receive Him, His face being toward Jerusalem. One may understand it by calling to mind how bitter religious feuds commonly are—as, for example, between Roundhead and Cavalier, Orangeman and Ribbonman. It was not a simple refusal of hospitality to wayfaring strangers, but a refusal on

* Compare Numbers xi. 24—29.

THE SAMARITAN VILLAGE.

religious grounds, and, as John views it, a refusal offered to the Lord.

Instantly, it may be, he recalls to mind what Jesus lately said about the place that would not receive His messengers, "It shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah"—the cities that were consumed with fire from heaven—or His awful "Woe!" against Capernaum. His anger is kindled by the indignity offered to his Master; and with swift energy he would clutch the lightnings and hurl them against the offending village. May we execute Thy Woe? Shall we command fire from heaven to consume them, as Elias did in this very land of Samaria and from the top of one of these very hills? (2 Kings i.)

It is not a mere outburst of passionateness, that might calm down in an hour; nor a rash and hasty utterance, like what we might have expected from Peter: it is rather an importation of the spirit of human nature into the cause of Christ, proposing to inflict temporal pains and penalties on His opposers. I would not say that there was vindictiveness in the proposal. I would even grant that in the zeal which flames out there is a certain mistaken nobleness. Matthias Claudius* presents the favourable side for the disciples very strikingly:—

"I cannot suffer stigma to rest upon my James and John; I must speak a word for them with thee, and save their honour. In the first place, they had before them the example of Elias, whom they had so lately seen in very glorious circumstances; and then they sought their Master's approbation, and naturally His power also. But thou usest to say, 'Be silent of another, or put thyself completely in his place.' We will do so: independently of our purpose, it were well to be seated there.

* (1740—1815) Commonly known, from the name of his Journal, as The Wandsbeck Messenger.

ANGER OF THE DISCIPLES.

"Christ was journeying with His disciples to Jerusalem. He travelled hereabout amidst matters Samaritan, and made this journey, as all His others, that He might provide the inhabitants and all men with a place of rest, and prepare for them an eternal refuge. The disciples indeed, although He had occasionally spoken of it to them, might not yet perhaps have so entirely understood this. But they had been about with Him now (these two) for three whole years, and had seen that His journeyings were not on His own account, and that He was not come to be minister unto; that, right and left, and without any respect of persons, He taught and did nothing but good; that He had never to be supplicated twice, and that He met every one who needed Him with love and friendliness.

"Now too it was the last time that He required the lodging, for the time was completed, and He was to be hence to meet ignominy and death. And now His night, which couch is denied Him, and His messengers repulsed.

"Canst thou take it amiss of the disciples that they were angry *then*? He is no base man who is indignant at seeing such kindness met with ingratitude, and justice and equity trodden under foot! Now add to this the adherence and love which the disciples manifested in their attachment and dependence upon their Master. He to whom it is is the same whatever happens can speak good-humoured enough. But he who is somewhat concerned thereby, and whose breast is not altogether empty, is affected otherwise than the icicles on the roof of the Temple of Tolerance.

"Christ indeed chided them; and He who, having His hand 'fire from heaven,' could hold back and conceal it beneath His coat woven throughout, and could suffer treatment as a malefactor before friend and foe, that the will of God, the Father in heaven, might be done—might chide, and before *Him* the disciples would have to

THE REBUKE.

med at not knowing of what spirit they were the children. But I also know that before every other spirit they nothing to blush for, and that the spirit of Christianity not called without cause a *spirit of Glory*.

Still there is a distinct element of error present—kinning to that of the servants in the parable, who proposed shoot up and burn the tares that grew among the wheat. As out of this spirit that persecution for conscience' sake since arisen—that men who could not call down fire heaven have kindled fires on earth to burn heretics to consume error. The Lord rebukes John, and sets him out, telling him, *You know neither the manner of your own spirit, nor of Mine; for I am not come to destroy souls, but to fire*. Christ does not here judge the spirit of Elias, which is the spirit of avenging righteousness, and which harmless with that dispensation of "fiery law" which he presented. But the spirit of the New Covenant is higher even the spirit of salvation. It would overcome evil with God. It is expressed in the dying prayer of Jesus, "Father, give them; for they know not what they do."

The rebuke (so gracious-hearted) is a fresh revelation to him, giving him deeper insight into the mind of Christ. He shall not afterwards find him disposed to use physical force on the Lord's behalf, or to anticipate the awful day of righteous judgment of God. He understands from the eleventh that Christ is not to be served by the wrath of God, by fires as of Smithfield, or fires of sarcasm and death; nay, not even by invoking the wrath of God upon the losers, or by calling out—not in holy indignation, but—in the spirit of the flesh, *Curse ye Meroz*; but by truth and love of righteousness and holy self-sacrifice.

he third division of the Lord's ministry, comprising that half a year, extends from the time of His finally

IN PEREA.

leaving Galilee onward to His crucifixion. Hitherto He has spoken the words and done the works of the Christ, and some few have known Him: He must now assert Himself openly, and meet the issue of rejection and death. Accordingly, He sends seventy of His disciples, two and two, before His face, to announce the nearness of the kingdom in the person of its King. His progress, following in their steps, would be somewhat slow and circuitous. Leaving Galilee, He crosses into Perea and makes His way southward, attended by great multitudes whom He teaches and heals. This journey is largely illustrated in the six chapters of the Gospel of Luke, beginning with the tenth. The character of the ministry is similar to what it had been in Galilee; and many of the Galilean incidents, in all their important features, are reproduced; many too of the Lord's words are re-uttered, in fresh combinations. But all was done as by One who was pressing forward to a mark, and could not needlessly linger.

We have no means of determining the exact duration of this itinerary in Perea, but it must have been extended over a good many weeks, broken only by a short visit to Jerusalem at the Feast of Dedication. He finally leaves Perea, in consequence of a message from Martha and Mary, the sisters of Larazus, which brings Him to Bethany to work the great miracle recorded in the eleventh chapter of John; after which He withdraws into a country near to the wilderness,* to a city called Ephraim, where He continues in retirement with His disciples. The raising of Lazarus from the dead, operating so powerfully upon the popular mind, renders it necessary for the rulers to come to a decision respecting Jesus; and their decision is, that He must die. This is what it has come to at last, even as He foresaw and foretold.

* The wilderness behind Jericho, a weird, desolate, awful region, equal to a hundred Glencoes.

THE BROTHERS' REQUEST.

At the approach of the passover, He goes up to Jerusalem to finish His work. On the way thither He gives numerous and solemn intimations of His approaching death, entering into startling detail on some points, and in particular that He should be crucified—yet ever moving forward with the tread of a Victor. In connection with one of these intimations, the brothers James and John come to Him, and ask places on His right hand and His left in His kingdom. I have already called attention to the incident for the light which it throws upon the personal character of John; I refer to it now for the insight which it gives John into the mind and heart of Christ.

In the kingdom which He came to establish there *are* high places, higher than the thrones of earth, and high places too that we may covet; but they are not awarded from personal favour or partiality, or in an arbitrary manner: they are given according to the purpose and preparation of the Father. Reigning with Christ follows upon suffering with Him,—drinking His cup, and being baptized with His baptism. Even as He Himself was “made perfect through sufferings,” so through fellowship in His sufferings His followers are delivered from sinful self-will, and made meet for lofty service. In kingdoms of the world the prince’s place is one of domination: in the kingdom of heaven it is one of love and self-sacrifice for the good of others. Whoever will rise to greatness therein must, in a true heart and pure love, stoop to be the minister and servant of others. The place of true usefulness is the place of true honour. Thus is exhibited the Lord’s own royal might and power of rule: although the King of eternity, He “came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many.” One cannot but see what a revelation for the Apostle was here.

After a breathing-time in the village of Bethany, where

“HOSANNA!”

He is anointed with spikenard by Mary's grateful love, the Lord enters Jerusalem as her King on the first day of the week in which He was to suffer. Attended by His disciples and the multitudes that had gathered to Bethany, and met by many others on the way, He rides on a young ass, whereon never man yet sat, the road being strewed with garments and palm-branches, and loud, joyous shouts rending the air, *Hosanna to the Son of David!* *Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord!* This entry into the holy city, taken in connection with His words and acts in the Temple, is the public and unmistakable assertion of His Messianic claims. No doubt could now remain in any mind on the question, *Whom makest Thou Thyself?* The few remaining hours are filled with Messianic works, wrought in the presence and midst of mortal enmity. Gladly, even thankfully, would His enemies have condoned the past, if He would now have abandoned His pretensions and submitted to their will: but, instead, He puts His claims more unmistakably than ever.

His last open appearance in Jerusalem takes place on the Tuesday—a day whose occurrences are more fully recorded than those of any day of His life, the crucifixion-day alone excepted. On the afternoon of that day, He goes out as usual to Bethany, and on the way thither—as one taking a last, sad adieu,—He sits down on the slope of Olivet over against the Temple, with Peter and Andrew, James and John, beside Him, and near the spot where, two or three days before, He had beheld the city, and wept over it. That little group is one of the most remarkable that ever appealed to human imagination; the very quietness of the withdrawal (like the going down of the last lights on a finally impenitent soul) infinitely solemn and pathetic. The holy city lies completely under their eye, crowded with more than a million worshippers, and hemmed in, both east and

THE APPROACHING PASSOVER.

south, by deep rocky glens which already lie in evening shadow. The Temple seems within a stone's cast. The smoke of the evening sacrifice still floats above its courts in the clear air. Looking upon the mighty pile, bathed in the gorgeous lights of sun-set,—

"like a mount

Of alabaster, topped with golden spires,"

they question Him concerning words He had spoken, portending the utter ruin of that sacred place; and He shows them in outline a prophetic picture of the future, onward to "the coming of the Son of Man"—a picture that should be compared with the visions of the Apocalypse, the perspective being that of Him to whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. His words give the death-blow to any lingering hopes they may have cherished of a present sovereignty, with Jerusalem for its splendid capital.

The Wednesday is spent in quietness at Bethany; the sleep that closes it is His last on earth—till He slept the sleep of death in Joseph's tomb.

On the Thursday He sends Peter and John to the city, to make preparations for celebrating the passover. His instructions to them indicate His foreknowledge of all that was about to take place. He sees the very man who is to meet them, bearing a pitcher of water,* and the guest-chamber (which He is to turn into a holy of holies) furnished and prepared, even as He foresees the cross and the glory beyond.

The same evening they all take their places at table, and after that marvellous incident, the washing of the disciples' feet, in which the spirit of the kingdom is so won-

* In the East, the water-pitchers are usually carried by women; scarcely ever by men.

THE LAST SUPPER.

derfully shown forth—humility and love and sublimest majesty conjoined—the sacred feast proceeds.

By and by Jesus appears troubled in spirit, and testifies, *One of you shall betray Me*. The words fall among them like a thunderbolt from out a clear summer sky—no one speaks—they look into one another's faces with mute and pale amazement. When they find breath, they begin to inquire, in sorrowful self-suspicion, *Master, is it I?* And probably while this word is going round, Peter beckons John to ask who is meant. John is nearest to the Lord, and he leans back on Jesus' bosom, and whispers the question, *Lord, who is it?* Dipping the morsel of bread in the dish, and giving it to Judas, who was also near (perhaps immediately on His other side), Jesus whispers the reply, *He it is to whom I give the sop*. These words were spoken low, so that only John would hear them. Then He added aloud, "One that dippeth his hand with Me in the dish, the same shall betray Me: the Son of Man goeth as it is written of Him, but woe unto that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed; it had been good for that man if he had not been born." A low whisper comes from Judas as he receives the sop, *Is it I?* and the answer is given, *Thou hast said*. After the sop, Satan enters into the man; he nerves himself for the final act, resisting the last appeal of love, and smothering the last remorseful feeling that stood between him and his sin; and almost immediately after, "he went out, and it was night." *

After the withdrawal of the traitor, there follows the

* "Remorse may disturb the slumbers of a man who is dabbling with his first experiences of wrong; and when the pleasure has been tasted and is gone, and nothing is left of the crime but the ruin which it has wrought, then, too, the Furies take their seats upon the midnight pillow. But the meridian of evil is, for the most part, left unvexed; and when a man has chosen his road, he is left alone to follow it to the end." So writes Froude, in his *History of England* (quoted by Dr. Farrar). But surely

GETHSEMANE.

simplest, heavenliest, most profound and wonderful of all the Lord's discourses that are left on record, concluding with the sublime intercessory prayer, which shows us how He pleads within the vail. That discourse sinks deep into John's heart, to be reproduced long years after in his Gospel. Then, full of holy serenity, Jesus leads them forth across the brook Kedron, to the garden of Gethsemane, a well-loved *rendezvous* of the little band on the way to Bethany, and here takes place one of the most awful and mysterious scenes of His life. He leaves the eight disciples at the entrance of the garden, and takes with Him Peter and James and John a stone's-cast further, into the deeper shade of the olive-trees, to watch and pray with Him. There He "began to be sorrowful and very heavy" "exceeding sorrowful even unto death," with a holy and awful *angina pectoris*. Mark adds that He was also "sore amazed," as at some new and dread experience from which He recoils. He now leaves the three, as He had left the eight—for human fellowship can go no farther—and falling prostrate on the cold ground, His sweat pours forth like great blood-drops, while (thrice in succession) He prays, *Father (Abba, Father, Mark reports it), if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me*. He has come into the world for this very hour; and yet to His holy human soul, quick with all the finest sensibilities of our nature, it is inconceivably distressing.

The whole scene is one of inscrutable mystery, in the presence of which we kneel and are silent. John would now begin to understand to what the Lord pointed when that word, "*left alone*," is cut of place. At every step in the sinner's dreadful career, there is a voice calling aloud, "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and unto our God, for He will abundantly pardon." One cannot trace the story of Judas without perceiving that Jesus dealt with his conscience to the last, and that His dealing justifies the phrase that has been used to describe it—*melting the betrayer*.

THE APPREHENSION.

He spoke of “My cup” and “My baptism.” Whatever other elements are present, whatever recoil from the physical torture and shame of crucifixion, here is the same horror, the same inward suffering, as when He groaned in spirit and was troubled at the grave of Lazarus, or when He wept over guilty Jerusalem; and that afterwards broke out from the cross in His cry of forsakenness. There is no sign of remorse—that was impossible and inconceivable for the Holy One of God; but there is some dread connection with sin, as that on which the curse of God eternally rests. Here is an instance of that “travail of soul” which the Sin bearer endured when “it pleased the Lord to bruise Him.” That John was able in a measure, though imperfectly, to enter into sympathy with Him, in His unutterable agony, is evinced by the effect produced on his physical frame, when, along with his two companions, he “*slept for sorrow*”—nature overpowered by the share he took in his Master’s conflict.*

The agony is just over, when a band of soldiers and others from Jerusalem, led by Judas, come to apprehend Him. Their movements are as silent and stealthy as possible, consistently with officialism; but Jesus knows of their approach, and goes forth to meet them. One scintillation of His power, showing that they could do nothing against Him except as He permitted, and that He laid down His life of Himself unconstrained and in loving freeness, and He calmly surrenders Himself into their hands, to be bound and led away. The cup He takes is “the cup which *My Father* giveth Me.”.

* I check that expression, “*the Master’s conflict*.” It seems to me that we are getting too fond of calling Him *The Master*. He is the Master, that is, the Teacher; and “never man spake like this Man:” but He is something more; and it was not as “*Master*” that He endured this conflict. How one longs to hear Him called “*Saviour*”!

THE CONDEMNATION AND CRUCIFIXION.

After the first show of resistance, the disciples are scattered, but in a short time John recovers himself and follows *—not like Peter, “afar off,” but closely, and as a friend, the only visible friend that Jesus then had. Strong in love, he is with Him all that sleepless, dreadful night, and all that “guilty morning,” as He is hurried about from place to place, into the presence of Annas, Caiaphas, Herod, Pilate, and the Jews, and subjected to all indignity and wrong—legal forms observed while justice is trodden under foot.† In the morning, by our nine o’clock, the Son of the Blessed hangs between two malefactors on the cross. All day the malice of triumphant wickedness surges around Him. They shake the head; they shoot out the lip. John stands near Him in the surge, learning what it means to drink His cup, and to have place on His right hand and His left, and witnessing His long, slow, dreadful sufferings, till He bows His head and dies. Only love of the purest and intensest kind—the love which is stronger than death, and is love to the core—could have kept its station thus: feebler love would have run away to be out of sight.

Just before the darkness fell—in that hour of untold agonies—Jesus seeks out with His eye His mother Mary and the beloved disciple; and to His mother He says, as His glance passes from her to John (for He could not move His nailed hand,) *Woman, behold thy son*; and to John—His glance passing back again to Mary, *Behold thy mother*.

* Not “another disciple,” but “the other disciple.” Archbishop Whately, “*On the Characters of our Lord’s Apostles*,” thinks he has proved that “the other disciple” who followed Jesus, and procured admission for Peter into the high-priest’s house, was not John, but *Judas*.

† A legal acquittal was pronounced by Pilate; and Jesus was sacrificed to clamour and fear. The Governor was not a jurist, but a soldier, and he, too, irresolute and vacillating; fearful for his office, and even for his life, for he served the “dark and unrelenting Tiberius.”—*Greenleaf: Trial of Jesus*.

"BLOOD AND WATER."

It is not earthly support and care alone that Jesus bequeaths to her, but a faithful *heart* that could understand her. And "from that hour that disciple took her to his own home." Whatever impulse may previously have been in his own breast to do this very thing is now sanctioned and sanctified by the word of the Lord.

After Jesus had bowed His head and given up the ghost, John still holds his station near the cross. In order that the crosses might not carry their ghastly burdens over the Sabbath, the soldiers come before nightfall and break the legs of the two malefactors who are crucified with Jesus; but finding Him dead already, they do not break His legs, but one of them in passing thrusts his broad spear blade into His side—to make sure—"and forthwith came thereout blood and water," in such quantity and so distinguishable, that John takes special notice of it, and bears solemn "record"—record which not only settles the fact of His death, and confirms ancient prophecy, and furnishes symbol to Christian thought and feeling, but enables physicians to speak of it from their special scientific point of view.*

The burial takes place the same evening. The world seems now to have gotten its way, and to have succeeded in quenching the light that pained its conscience and condemned its works; and the time seems come for them to be merry and send gifts to one another: He who troubled them is safely disposed of.

All the next day, being the Sabbath, "the flesh" of the Redeemer "rests in hope." Early in the morning that

* See Dr. Stroud's treatise, "*On the Physical Cause of the Death of Christ*," originally published thirty years ago, to which fresh attention has since been called by Dr. Hanna in "*The Last Day of our Lord's Passion*." (Appendix containing Letters from Sir James Simpson and others.) There is no ground for supposing—as is sometimes done—a "gush" of blood and water. The heart—the engine that could have caused such a gush—was dead.

THE EMPTY SEPULCHRE.

follows, Mary Magdalene goes forth with other women to the sepulchre. Seeing the stone taken away, she instantly concludes that the body is removed, and runs breathless and sorrowful to tell Peter and John. The two friends immediately hasten to examine for themselves. They run both together, but John, swifter-footed, outruns Peter, and comes first to the sepulchre. Stooping down and looking in, he sees the linen clothes lying, but does not enter. Peter, characteristically, goes in at once and looks round. The linen which had enswathed the body lies in one place, and the napkin which had been about the head is folded up and laid in another place. At first glance this may appear a trivial matter, noticed only by the fondness of love; but not so if we reflect. There is nothing torn, nothing disarranged, no sign of violence or hurry; everything betokens deliberation and composure. The Living One had risen and gone forth "with grand tranquillity." The grave-clothes are folded up and laid deliberately aside: the Lord has no more need of them. Then John "went in also, and he saw and believed." Believed what? Not that the grave was empty; that he saw. But rather -foremost in faith--he believed what he had not hitherto understood from Scripture, that the Lord was risen, to die no more. What he saw made the meaning of Scripture and the repeated predictions of the Lord flash at once before his mind.

The same day at evening, and on subsequent occasions, John is present when the risen Lord appears to His assembled disciples, filling them as with a joy unspeakable and full of glory, and commissions them to be His messengers to all the ends of the earth, to preach repentance and forgiveness of sins.

One special manifestation is recorded at great length, which took place on the shore of the sea of Galilee. Seven

THE SEVEN DISCIPLES FISHING.

disciples go a-fishing, of whom John is one. These seven had gone about with Jesus, hearing His words and witnessing His mighty works; they had been spectators of His sufferings; they had seen Him risen; they had heard that word of His, "As my Father hath sent Me, even so send I you"; they had felt His breath on them when He said, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost"; and now (apparently without any misgiving or sense of inconsistency) they are busy at their old employment as fishermen. They toil all night in vain. As they make for shore in the morning twilight, a Stranger whom they know not questions them, and bids them cast the net on the right side of the ship. They do so, and the net is filled. John, recognizing the beloved voice and form and way, exclaims, *It is the Lord!* and they all hasten to the shore, the denier foremost. After eating together, and after the gracious dealing with Peter that ensued, Jesus rises, and begins to walk away from the spot, saying to Peter, *Follow Me*,—who does so. John also follows, unbidden and silently, as he had done once before when the Baptist said, *Behold the Lamb of God!* Peter, turning round and seeing him, asks, *Lord, and what shall this man do?* To whom the Lord replies, *If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? follow thou Me.* His future lies wholly in My will. The saying went abroad among the disciples that John was not to die; and a legend arose afterwards that he only slumbered, breathing, in his grave, and that the turf was tremulous above him. Yet Jesus said not, *He shall not die, but If I will that he tarry till I come.*

This is the last glimpse we have of John's companionship with Jesus on to the ascension into heaven, when He sat on the right hand of God. On the banks of the Jordan, in the beginning, he followed Jesus unbidden, and abode with Him that day; on the shore of the sea of Galilee,

QUALIFICATIONS FOR WITNESS-BEARING.

after the resurrection, he begins to follow—again unbidden—in a course that runs down through eternity,—neither death nor life able to separate him from his Lord and Saviour.•

It is thus apparent that not only had John special qualifications, both by nature and by grace, for being a witness of the Lord's life, but special opportunities of observation and intimate knowledge were afforded him; special disclosures of the Lord's glory were opened up to him; and none of the twelve penetrated more deeply into the revelation, or treasured it up more faithfully and lovingly in his heart. "We beheld His glory," he says in the beginning of his Gospel; and in his first Epistle he reports how he had heard, and seen with his eyes, and looked upon, and his hands handled, the manifested Word of Life. In view of what had been disclosed to him, he is overwhelmed by the impossibility of duly and worthily setting it forth, and thinks of all he has told in his Gospel as the merest nothing compared with what there was to tell. Looking upon his little, slender manuscript—which to us is so profound and wonderful—he exclaims, *I have shown you a part of His way; but the world itself could not contain the books that might be written, rehearsing the superb story.* It is testimony to the fulness of knowledge, of insight, of understanding, of memory, of sacred joy, which he possessed; and to the impossibility of telling all he knew.

• John *alludes* to the Ascension, as in his report of Christ's words, "I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God;" and it is—to say the least—the corollary to his Gospel; but he nowhere gives any account of it as a fact—except we name Rev. xii. 5.


IV.