April 26

"Sitting at the feet of Jesus." Luke 8:35.

THIS was a place of nearness. Love longs to be near its attraction, and this man loves his benefactor, and feels his obligations to his pity and power.

It was a place of safety. He naturally dreaded the return of the malady, and the devils gaining possession of him again; he therefore keeps close to his deliverer.

It was a place of instruction. The two former purposes might have been answered by his sitting at the side of Jesus. But sitting at his feet was the position and posture of a learner. "They sat down at his feet," says Moses, when God was on the top of Horeb and the people at the bottom, "and received of his words." Isaiah, speaking of Abraham, says, "God called him to his feet." Martha had a sister, "who also sat at Jesus' feet." Saul of Tarsus "was brought up at the feet of Gamaliel." In all these instances there is a reference to the ancient and Eastern custom, when the master occupied a higher seat, and the scholars were sitting at his feet, as hereby he had them in view, and they were reminded, by their very place, of the reverence and submission which became them as learners.

This is the place we should all be found in. But how is it possible for us to sit at his feet now? He said, I am no more in the world: and the heavens have received him till the restitution of all things. It is true he is no longer here corporally, but he is here spiritually. He is not visible, but he is accessible.

We have his throne, and his house, and his word, and his ministers, and his ordinances. We have himself; for he has said, "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." We can therefore sit at his feet. And in recommendation of this place, let us observe the excellences of the Master, and the advantages of his disciples; for the one involves the other.

And here we must not overlook the dignity of his character. A tutor seems to shed lustre over his pupils, and scholars have always prided themselves in the name of an illustrious preceptor. A young Israelitish prophet would have boasted in having been in the school of Samuel or Elijah. How far did the queen of Sheba come to hear the wisdom of Solomon! "But behold, a greater than Solomon is here;" one fairer than the children of men: he is Lord of all. See the poor despised Christian. He is debarred every seat of learning among men; but he is under a divine instructor, and such honor have all his saints. For so highly are they related, so peculiar is their destination, so sublime are the stations they are to fill, and the functions they are to discharge as kings and priests unto God for ever, that their education is not entrusted to a creature. "All thy children shall be taught of the Lord."

There is also the perfection of his ability. In him are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Other teachers may be mistaken, and they may deceive us. They cannot, therefore, deserve our implicit and absolute confidence. But he knows every thing, and every thing perfectly. We cannot therefore rely too much on his decisions. Heaven and earth may pass away, but his word shall not pass away.

There is the kindness of his manner. Men often discourage and intimidate learners by their distance, hastiness, and austerity. They have not long-suffering and gentleness and tenderness enough to attract and attach the very soul of the pupil; to soften and shame him, if perverse; to fix him, if roving and volatile; to inspire him with confidence, if timid; and to produce in him at once that freedom and application of mind, so essential to improvement, and so incompatible with agitation and confusion of spirit. For something besides talent—and may we not say, something beyond talent?—is required in a teacher. In proportion to the greatness of his knowledge, and the quickness and facility of his apprehension, a master will be tried by the imperfections of his scholars; and the scholars will be the more liable to be abashed and depressed. Conscious of their ignorance and inability and slowness, they will be reluctant, and afraid to give up themselves to such a superior tutor, unless he has other qualities: and such a tutor will not be very likely to waste, as he would suppose, his time and talents upon such unpromising subjects. But we sit at the feet of one whose condescension equals his greatness. He will stoop to teach me even where I must begin. He will accommodate himself to my wants and weakness. He will repeat his lessons. He will give me line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little, and upbraid not. Thus he taught his immediate disciples as they were able to bear it, and loved them to the end, notwithstanding their mistakes and infirmities. And thus he said to his hearers, "Learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart." Does he not refer to himself in these attributes as a motive, as well as an example? As much as to say, "You need not be afraid to place yourselves under my care; I will deal tenderly with you."

There is also the efficiency of his tuition. None teacher like him. Other masters teach, but they cannot make their pupils learn. They can improve, but they cannot impart ability; and without some aptitude for an art or science, little progress will be made under the best efforts. What could Handel or Haydn have done with a clown without any taste or ear for music? But Jesus gives the capacity and the disposition he requires. He furnishes not only the medium, but the faculty of vision. He makes the blind to see. And though, like the morning, we set off with a few rays only, our path is like that of the "shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."