{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_33288/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_33288","id":"gutenberg_33288","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33288","summary":null,"tags":["Bible. John","Bible. John -- Criticism, interpretation, etc.","Category: Religion/Spirituality"],"text":"Produced by Marcia Brooks, Colin Bell, Nigel Blower and\nthe Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nhttps://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images\ngenerously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian\nLibraries)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  [Transcriber's Note:\n\n  This e-text is intended for users whose text readers cannot display\n  the Unicode (utf-8) version of the file. Greek words have been\n  transliterated and enclosed in equals signs, e.g. =ho logos=.\n\n  _Italic_ words have been similarly enclosed in underscores.\n\n  A few minor typographical errors have been silently corrected.\n\n  The Table of Contents refers to page numbers in the original text.\n\n  All advertising material has been placed at the end of the text.]\n\n\n\n\n                  THE EXPOSITOR'S BIBLE.\n\n\n                    EDITED BY THE REV.\n             W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D.\n\n               _Editor of \"The Expositor.\"_\n\n\n                 THE GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN.\n\n                           BY\n                    MARCUS DODS, D.D.\n\n\n                         London:\n                  HODDER AND STOUGHTON,\n                   27, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n                        MDCCCXCII.\n\n\n\n\n                           THE\n                   GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN.\n\n                           BY\n                    MARCUS DODS, D.D.,\n\n  PROFESSOR OF EXEGETICAL THEOLOGY, NEW COLLEGE, EDINBURGH.\n\n\n                     IN TWO VOLUMES.\n\n                       _VOL. II._\n\n\n                         London:\n                  HODDER AND STOUGHTON,\n                   27, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n                        MDCCCXCII.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                             PAGE\n    I.\n    THE ANOINTING OF JESUS                      3\n\n    II.\n    THE ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM                   19\n\n    III.\n    THE CORN OF WHEAT                          31\n\n    IV.\n    THE ATTRACTIVE FORCE OF THE CROSS          47\n\n    V.\n    RESULTS OF CHRIST'S MANIFESTATION          65\n\n    VI.\n    THE FOOT-WASHING                           75\n\n    VII.\n    JUDAS                                      91\n\n    VIII.\n    JESUS ANNOUNCES HIS DEPARTURE             109\n\n    IX.\n    THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE          123\n\n    X.\n    THE FATHER SEEN IN CHRIST                 137\n\n    XI.\n    THE BEQUEST OF PEACE                      159\n\n    XII.\n    THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES                 175\n\n    XIII.\n    NOT SERVANTS, BUT FRIENDS                 193\n\n    XIV.\n    THE SPIRIT CHRIST'S WITNESS               205\n\n    XV.\n    LAST WORDS                                229\n\n    XVI.\n    CHRIST'S INTERCESSORY PRAYER              247\n\n    XVII.\n    THE ARREST                                263\n\n    XVIII.\n    PETER'S DENIAL AND REPENTANCE             281\n\n    XIX.\n    JESUS BEFORE PILATE                       299\n\n    XX.\n    MARY AT THE CROSS                         321\n\n    XXI.\n    THE CRUCIFIXION                           335\n\n    XXII.\n    THE RESURRECTION                          351\n\n    XXIII.\n    THOMAS' TEST                              365\n\n    XXIV.\n    APPEARANCE AT SEA OF GALILEE              383\n\n    XXV.\n    RESTORATION OF PETER                      399\n\n    XXVI.\n    CONCLUSION                                413\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\n_THE ANOINTING OF JESUS._\n\n\n    \"Jesus therefore six days before the Passover came to Bethany, where\n    Lazarus was, whom Jesus raised from the dead. So they made Him a\n    supper there: and Martha served; but Lazarus was one of them that\n    sat at meat with Him. Mary therefore took a pound of ointment of\n    spikenard, very precious, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped\n    His feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of\n    the ointment. But Judas Iscariot, one of His disciples, which should\n    betray Him, saith, Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred\n    pence, and given to the poor? Now this he said, not because he cared\n    for the poor; but because he was a thief, and having the bag took\n    away what was put therein. Jesus therefore said, Suffer her to keep\n    it against the day of My burying. For the poor ye have always with\n    you; but Me ye have not always. The common people therefore of the\n    Jews learned that He was there: and they came, not for Jesus' sake\n    only, but that they might see Lazarus also, whom He had raised from\n    the dead. But the chief priests took counsel that they might put\n    Lazarus also to death; because that by reason of him many of the\n    Jews went away, and believed on Jesus.\"--JOHN xii. 1-11.\n\n\nThis twelfth chapter is the watershed of the Gospel. The\nself-manifestation of Jesus to the world is now ended; and from this\npoint onwards to the close we have to do with the results of that\nmanifestation. He hides Himself from the unbelieving, and allows their\nunbelief full scope; while He makes further disclosures to the faithful\nfew. The whole Gospel is a systematic and wonderfully artistic\nexhibition of the manner in which the deeds, words, and claims of Jesus\nproduced,--on the one hand, a growing belief and enthusiasm; on the\nother, a steadily hardening unbelief and hostility. In this chapter the\nculmination of these processes is carefully illustrated by three\nincidents. In the first of these incidents evidence is given that there\nwas an intimate circle of friends in whose love Jesus was embalmed, and\nHis work and memory insured against decay; while the very deed which had\nriveted the faith and affection of this intimate circle is shown to have\nbrought the antagonism of His enemies to a head. In the second incident\nthe writer shows that on the whole popular mind Jesus had made a\nprofound impression, and that the instincts of the Jewish people\nacknowledged Him as King. In the third incident the influence He was\ndestined to have and was already to some extent exerting beyond the\nbounds of Judaism is illustrated by the request of the Greeks that they\nmight see Jesus.\n\nIn this first incident, then, is disclosed a devotedness of faith which\ncannot be surpassed, an attachment which is absolute; but here also we\nsee that the hostility of avowed enemies has penetrated even the inner\ncircle of the personal followers of Jesus, and that one of the chosen\nTwelve has so little faith or love that he can see no beauty and find no\npleasure in any tribute paid to his Master. In this hour there meet a\nripeness of love which suddenly reveals the permanent place which Jesus\nhas won for Himself in the hearts of men, and a maturity of alienation\nwhich forebodes that His end cannot be far distant. In this beautiful\nincident, therefore, we turn a page in the gospel and come suddenly into\nthe presence of Christ's death. To this death He Himself freely alludes,\nbecause He sees that things are now ripe for it, that nothing short of\nHis death will satisfy His enemies, while no further manifestation can\ngive Him a more abiding place in the love of His friends. The chill,\ndamp odour of the tomb first strikes upon the sense, mingling with and\nabsorbed in the perfume of Mary's ointment. If Jesus dies, He cannot be\nforgotten. He is embalmed in the love of such disciples.\n\nOn His way to Jerusalem for the last time Jesus reached Bethany \"six\ndays before the Passover\"--that is to say, in all probability[1] on the\nFriday evening previous to His death. It was natural that He should wish\nto spend His last Sabbath in the congenial and strengthening society of\na family whose welcome and whose affection He could rely upon. In the\nlittle town of Bethany He had become popular, and since the raising of\nLazarus He was regarded with marked veneration. Accordingly they made\nHim a feast, which, as Mark informs us, was given in the house of Simon\nthe leper. Any gathering of His friends in Bethany must have been\nincomplete without Lazarus and his sisters. Each is present, and each\ncontributes an appropriate addition to the feast. Martha serves;\nLazarus, mute as he is throughout the whole story, bears witness by his\npresence as a living guest to the worthiness of Jesus; while Mary makes\nthe day memorable by a characteristic action. Coming in, apparently\nafter the guests had reclined at table, she broke an alabaster of very\ncostly spikenard[2] and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet\nwith her hair.\n\nThis token of affection took the company by surprise. Lazarus and his\nsisters may have been in sufficiently good circumstances to admit of\ntheir making a substantial acknowledgment of their indebtedness to\nJesus; and although this alabaster of ointment had cost as much as would\nkeep a labouring man's family for a year, this could not seem an\nexcessive return to make for service so valuable as Jesus had rendered.\nIt was the manner of the acknowledgment which took the company by\nsurprise. Jesus was a poor man, and His very appearance may have\nsuggested that there were other things He needed more urgently than\nsuch a gift as this. Had the family provided a home for Him or given\nHim the price of this ointment, no one would have uttered a remark. But\nthis was the kind of demonstration reserved for princes or persons of\ngreat distinction; and when paid to One so conspicuously humble in His\ndress and habits, there seemed to the uninstructed eye something\nincongruous and bordering on the grotesque. When the fragrance of the\nointment disclosed its value, there was therefore an instantaneous\nexclamation of surprise, and at any rate in one instance of blunt\ndisapproval. Judas, instinctively putting a money value on this display\nof affection, roundly and with coarse indelicacy declared it had better\nhave been sold and given to the poor.\n\nJesus viewed the act with very different feelings. The rulers were\ndetermining to put Him out of the way, as not only worthless but\ndangerous; the very man who objected to this present expenditure was\nmaking up his mind to sell Him for a small part of the sum; the people\nwere scrutinising His conduct, criticising Him;--in the midst of all\nthis hatred, suspicion, treachery, coldness, and hesitation comes this\nwoman and puts aside all this would-be wisdom and caution, and for\nherself pronounces that no tribute is rich enough to pay to Him. It is\nthe rarity of such action, not the rarity of the nard, that strikes\nJesus. This, He says, is a noble deed she has done, far rarer, far more\ndifficult to produce, far more penetrating, and lasting in its fragrance\nthan the richest perfume that man has compounded. Mary has the\nexperience that all those have who for Christ's sake expose themselves\nto the misunderstanding and abuse of vulgar and unsympathetic minds; she\nreceives from Himself more explicit assurance that her offering has\ngiven pleasure to Him and is gratefully accepted. We may sometimes find\nourselves obliged to do what we perfectly well know will be\nmisunderstood and censured; we may be compelled to adopt a line of\nconduct which seems to convict us of heedlessness and of the neglect of\nduties we owe to others; we may be driven to action which lays us open\nto the charge of being romantic and extravagant; but of one thing we may\nbe perfectly sure--that however our motives are mis-read and condemned\nby those who first make their voices heard, He for whose sake we do\nthese things will not disparage our action nor misunderstand our\nmotives. The way to a fuller intimacy with Christ often lies through\npassages in life we must traverse alone.\n\nBut we are probably more likely to misunderstand than to be\nmisunderstood. We are so limited in our sympathies, so scantily\nfurnished with knowledge, and have so slack a hold upon great\nprinciples, that for the most part we can understand only those who are\nlike ourselves. When a woman comes in with her effusiveness, we are put\nout and irritated; when a man whose mind is wholly uneducated utters his\nfeelings by shouting hymns and dancing on the street, we think him a\nsemi-lunatic; when a member of our family spends an hour or two a day in\ndevotional exercises, we condemn it as waste of time which might be\nbetter spent on practical charities or household duties.\n\nMost liable of all to this vice of misjudging the actions of others, and\nindeed of misapprehending generally wherein the real value of life\nconsists, are those who, like Judas, measure all things by a\nutilitarian, if not a money, standard. Actions which have no immediate\nresults are pronounced by such persons to be mere sentiment and waste,\nwhile in fact they redeem human nature and make life seem worth living.\nThe charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava served none of the\nimmediate purposes of the battle, and was indeed a blunder and waste\nfrom that point of view; yet are not our annals enriched by it as they\nhave been by few victories? On the Parthenon there were figures placed\nwith their backs hard against the wall of the pediment; these backs were\nnever seen and were not intended to be seen, but yet were carved with\nthe same care as was spent upon the front of the figures. Was that care\nwaste? There are thousands of persons in our own society who think it\nessential to teach their children arithmetic, but pernicious to instil\ninto their minds a love of poetry or art. They judge of education by the\ntest, Will it pay? can this attainment be turned into money? The other\nquestion, Will it enrich the nature of the child and of the man? is not\nasked. They proceed as if they believed that the man is made for\nbusiness, not business for the man; and thus it comes to pass that\neverywhere among us men are found sacrificed to business, stunted in\ntheir moral development, shut off from the deeper things of life. The\npursuits which such persons condemn are the very things which lift life\nout of the low level of commonplace buying and selling, and invite us to\nremember that man liveth not by bread alone, but by high thoughts, by\nnoble sacrifice, by devoted love and all that love dictates, by the\npowers of the unseen, mightier by far than all that we see.\n\nIn the face, then, of so much that runs counter to such demonstrations\nas Mary's and condemns them as extravagance, it is important to note the\nprinciples upon which our Lord proceeds in His justification of her\naction.\n\nFirst, He says, this is an occasional, exceptional tribute. \"The poor\nalways ye have with you, but me ye have not always.\" Charity to the poor\nyou may continue from day to day all your life long: whatever you spend\non me is spent once for all. You need not think the poor defrauded by\nthis expenditure. Within a few days I shall be beyond all such tokens of\nregard, and the poor will still claim your sympathy. This principle\nsolves for us some social and domestic problems. Of many expenses common\nin society, and especially of expenses connected with scenes such as\nthis festive gathering at Bethany, the question always arises, Is this\nexpenditure justifiable? When present at an entertainment costing as\nmuch and doing as little material good as the spikenard whose perfume\nhad died before the guests separated, we cannot but ask, Is not this,\nafter all, mere waste? had it not been better to have given the value to\nthe poor? The hunger-bitten faces, the poverty-stricken outcasts, we\nhave seen during the day are suggested to us by the superabundance now\nbefore us. The effort to spend most where least is needed suggests to\nus, as to these guests at Bethany, gaunt, pinched, sickly faces, bare\nrooms, cold grates, feeble, dull-eyed children--in a word, starving\nfamilies who might be kept for weeks together on what is here spent in a\nfew minutes; and the question is inevitable, Is this right? Can it be\nright to spend a man's ransom on a mere good smell, while at the end of\nthe street a widow is pining with hunger? Our Lord replies that so long\nas one is day by day considering the poor and relieving their\nnecessities, he need not grudge an occasional outlay to manifest his\nregard for his friends. The poor of Bethany would probably appeal to\nMary much more hopefully than to Judas, and they would appeal all the\nmore successfully because her heart had been allowed to utter itself\nthus to Jesus. There is, of course, an expenditure for display under the\nguise of friendship. Such expenditure finds no justification here or\nanywhere else. But those who in a practical way acknowledge the\nperpetual presence of the poor are justified in the occasional outlay\ndemanded by friendship.\n\n2. But our Lord's defence of Mary is of wider range. \"Let her alone,\" He\nsays, \"against the day of my burying hath she kept this.\" It was not\nonly occasional, exceptional tribute she had paid Him; it was solitary,\nnever to be repeated. Against my burial she has kept this unguent; for\nme ye have not always. Would you blame Mary for spending this, were I\nlying in my tomb? Would you call it too costly a tribute, were it the\nlast? Well, it is the last.[3] Such is our Lord's justification of her\naction. Was Mary herself conscious that this was a parting tribute? It\nis possible that her love and womanly instinct had revealed to her the\nnearness of that death of which Jesus Himself so often spoke, but which\nthe disciples refused to think of. She may have felt that this was the\nlast time she would have an opportunity of expressing her devotion.\nDrawn to Him with unutterable tenderness, with admiration, gratitude,\nanxiety mingling in her heart, she hastens to spend upon Him her\ncostliest. Passing away from _her_ world she knows He is; buried so far\nas she was concerned she knew Him to be if He was to keep the Passover\nat Jerusalem in the midst of His enemies. Had the others felt with her,\nnone could have grudged her the last consolation of this utterance of\nher love, or have grudged Him the consolation of receiving it. For this\nmade Him strong to die, this among other motives--the knowledge that His\nlove and sacrifice were not in vain, that He had won human hearts, and\nthat in their affection He would survive. This is His true embalming.\nThis it is that forbids that His flesh see corruption, that His earthly\nmanifestation die out and be forgotten. To die before He had attached to\nHimself friends as passionate in their devotion as Mary would have been\npremature. The recollection of His work might have been lost. But when\nHe had won men like John and women like Mary, He could die assured that\nHis name would never be lost from earth. The breaking of the alabaster\nbox, the pouring out of Mary's soul in adoration of her Lord--this was\nthe signal that all was ripe for His departure, this the proof that His\nmanifestation had done its work. The love of His own had come to\nmaturity and burst thus into flower. Jesus therefore recognises in this\nact His true embalming.\n\nAnd it is probably from this point of view that we may most readily see\nthe appropriateness of that singular commendation and promise which our\nLord, according to the other gospels, added: \"Verily I say unto you,\nwherever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, this\nalso that she hath done shall be spoken for a memorial of her.\"\n\nAt first sight the encomium might seem as extravagant as the action. Was\nthere, a Judas might ask, anything deserving of immortality in the\nsacrifice of a few pounds? But no such measurements are admissible here.\nThe encomium was deserved because the act was the irrepressible\nutterance of all-absorbing love--of a love so full, so rich, so rare\nthat even the ordinary disciples of Christ were at first not in perfect\nsympathy with it. The absolute devotedness of her love found a fit\nsymbol in the alabaster box or vase which she had to break that the\nointment might flow out. It was not a bottle out of which she might take\nthe stopper and let a carefully measured quantity dribble out, reserving\nthe rest for other and perhaps very different uses--fit symbol of our\nlove to Christ; but it was a hermetically sealed casket or flask, out of\nwhich, if she let one drop fall, the whole must go. It had to be broken;\nit had to be devoted to one sole use. It could not be in part reserved\nor in part diverted to other uses. Where you have such love as this,\nhave you not the highest thing humanity can produce? Where is it now to\nbe had on earth, where are we to look for this all-devoting, unreserving\nlove, which gathers up all its possessions and pours them out at\nChrist's feet, saying, \"Take all, would it were more\"?\n\nThe encomium, therefore, was deserved and appropriate. In her love the\nLord would ever live: so long as she existed the remembrance of Him\ncould not die. No death could touch her heart with his chilly hand and\nfreeze the warmth of her devotion. Christ was immortal in her, and she\nwas therefore immortal in Him. Her love was a bond that could not be\nbroken, the truest spiritual union. In embalming Him, therefore, she\nunconsciously embalmed herself. Her love was the amber in which He was\nto be preserved, and she became inviolable as He. Her love was the\nmarble on which His name and worth were engraven, on which His image was\ndeeply sculptured, and they were to live and last together. Christ\n\"prolongs His days\" in the love of His people. In every generation there\narise those who will not let His remembrance die out, and who to their\nown necessities call out the living energy of Christ. In so doing they\nunwittingly make themselves undying as He; their love of Him is the\nlittle spark of immortality in their soul. It is that which indissolubly\nand by the only genuine spiritual affinity links them to what is\neternal. To all who thus love Him Christ cannot but say, \"Because I\nlive, ye shall live also.\"\n\nAnother point in our Lord's defence of Mary's conduct, though it is not\nexplicitly asserted, plainly is, that tributes of affection paid\ndirectly to Himself are of value to Him. Judas might with some\nplausibility have quoted against our Lord His own teaching that an act\nof kindness done to the poor was kindness to Him. It might be said that,\non our Lord's own showing, what He desires is, not homage paid to\nHimself personally, but loving and merciful conduct. And certainly any\nhomage paid to Himself which is not accompanied by such conduct is of no\nvalue at all. But as love to Him is the spring and regulator of all\nright conduct, it is necessary that we should cultivate this love; and\nbecause He delights in our well-being and in ourselves, and does not\nlook upon us merely as so much material in which He may exhibit His\nhealing powers, He necessarily rejoices in every expression of true\ndevotedness that is paid to Him by any of us.\n\nAnd on our side wherever there is true and ardent love it must crave\ndirect expression. \"If ye love me,\" says our Lord, \"keep my\ncommandments\"; and obedience certainly is the normal test and exhibition\nof love. But there is that in our nature which refuses to be satisfied\nwith obedience, which craves fellowship with what we love, which carries\nus out of ourselves and compels us to express our feeling directly. And\nthat soul is not fully developed whose pent-up gratitude, cherished\nadmiration, and warm affection do not from time to time break away from\nall ordinary modes of expressing devotion and choose some such direct\nmethod as Mary chose, or some such straightforward utterance as Peter's:\n\"Lord, Thou knowest all things, Thou knowest that I love Thee.\"\n\nIt may, indeed, occur to us, as we read of Mary's tribute to her Lord,\nthat the very words in which He justified her action forbid our\nsupposing that any so grateful tribute can be paid Him by us. \"Me ye\nhave not always\" may seem to warn us against expecting that so direct\nand satisfying an intercourse can be maintained now, when we no longer\nhave Him. And no doubt this is one of the standing difficulties of\nChristian experience. We can love those who live with us, whose eye we\ncan meet, whose voice we know, whose expression of face we can read. We\nfeel it easy to fix our affections on one and another of those who are\nalive contemporaneously with ourselves. But with Christ it is different:\nwe miss those sensible impressions made upon us by the living bodily\npresence; we find it difficult to retain in the mind a settled idea of\nthe feeling He has towards us. It is an effort to accomplish by faith\nwhat sight without any effort effectually accomplishes. We do not _see_\nthat He loves us; the looks and tones that chiefly reveal human love are\nabsent; we are not from hour to hour confronted, whether we will or no,\nwith one evidence or other of love. Were the life of a Christian\nnowadays no more difficult than it was to Mary, were it brightened with\nChrist's presence as a household friend, were the whole sum and\nsubstance of it merely a giving way to the love He kindled by palpable\nfavours and measurable friendship, then surely the Christian life would\nbe a very simple, very easy, very happy course.\n\nBut the connection between ourselves and Christ is not of the body that\npasses, but of the spirit which endures. It is spiritual, and such a\nconnection may be seriously perverted by the interference of sense and\nof bodily sensations. To measure the love of Christ by His expression of\nface and by His tone of voice is legitimate, but it is not the truest\nmeasurement: to be drawn to Him by the accidental kindnesses our present\ndifficulties must provoke is to be drawn by something short of perfect\nspiritual affinity. And, on the whole, it is well that our spirit should\nbe allowed to choose its eternal friendship and alliance by what is\nspecially and exclusively its own, so that its choice cannot be\nmistaken, as the choice sometimes is when there is a mixture of physical\nand spiritual attractiveness. So much are we guided in youth and in the\nwhole of our life by what is material, so freely do we allow our tastes\nto be determined and our character to be formed by our connection with\nwhat is material, that the whole man gets blunted in his _spiritual_\nperceptions and incapable of appreciating what is not seen. And the\ngreat part of our education in this life is to lift the spirit to its\ntrue place and to its appropriate company, to teach it to measure its\ngains apart from material prosperity, and to train it to love with\nardour what cannot be seen.\n\nBesides, it cannot be doubted that this incident itself very plainly\nteaches that Christ came into this world to win our love and to turn all\nduty into a personal acting towards Him; to make the _whole_ of life\nlike those parts of it which are now its bright exceptional holiday\ntimes; to make all of it a pleasure by making all of it and not merely\nparts of it the utterance of love. Even a little love in our life is the\nsunshine that quickens and warms and brightens the whole. There seems at\nlength to be a reason and a satisfaction in life when love animates us.\nIt is easy to act well to those whom we really love, and Christ has come\nfor the express purpose of bringing our whole life within this charmed\ncircle. He has come not to bring constraint and gloom into our lives,\nbut to let us out into the full liberty and joy of the life that God\nHimself lives and judges to be the only life worthy of His bestowal upon\nus.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] It is uncertain whether the \"six days\" are inclusive or exclusive of\nthe day of arrival and of the first day of the Feast. It is also\nuncertain on what day of the week the Crucifixion happened.\n\n[2] In _The Classical Review_ for July 1890 Mr. Bennett suggests that\nthe difficult word =pistikes= should be written =pistakes=, and that it\nrefers to the _Pistacia terebinthus_, which grows in Cyprus and Judaea,\nand yields a very fragrant and very costly unguent.\n\n[3] So Stier.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\n_THE ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM._\n\n\n    \"On the morrow a great multitude that had come to the feast, when\n    they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took the branches of\n    the palm trees, and went forth to meet Him, and cried out, Hosanna:\n    Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord, even the King of\n    Israel. And Jesus, having found a young ass, sat thereon; as it is\n    written, Fear not, daughter of Zion: behold, thy King cometh,\n    sitting on an ass's colt. These things understood not His disciples\n    at the first: but when Jesus was glorified, then remembered they\n    that these things were written of Him, and that they had done these\n    things unto Him. The multitude therefore that was with Him when He\n    called Lazarus out of the tomb, and raised him from the dead, bare\n    witness. For this cause also the multitude went and met Him, for\n    that they heard that He had done this sign. The Pharisees therefore\n    said among themselves, Behold, how ye prevail nothing: lo, the world\n    is gone after Him.\"--JOHN xii. 12-19.\n\n\nIf our Lord arrived in Bethany on Friday evening and spent the Sabbath\nwith His friends there, \"the next day\" of ver. 12 is Sunday; and in the\nChurch year this day is known as Palm Sunday, from the incident here\nrelated. It was also the day, four days before the Passover, on which\nthe Jews were enjoined by the law to choose their paschal lamb. Some\nconsciousness of this may have guided our Lord's action. Certainly He\nmeans finally to offer Himself to the people as the Messiah. Often as He\nhad evaded them before, and often as He had forbidden His disciples to\nproclaim Him, He is now conscious that His hour has come, and by\nentering Jerusalem as King of peace He definitely proclaims Himself the\npromised Messiah. As plainly as the crowning of a new monarch and the\nflourish of trumpets and the kissing of his hand by the great officers\nof state proclaim him king, so unmistakably does our Lord by riding into\nJerusalem on an ass and by accepting the hosannas of the people proclaim\nHimself the King promised to men through the Jews, as the King of peace\nwho was to win men to His rule by love and sway them by a Divine Spirit.\n\nThe scene must have been one not easily forgotten. The Mount of Olives\nruns north and south parallel to the east wall of Jerusalem, and\nseparated from it by a gully, through which flows the brook Kidron. The\nMount is crossed by three paths. One of these is a steep footpath, which\nruns direct over the crest of the hill; the second runs round its\nnorthern shoulder; while the third crosses the southern slope. It was by\nthis last route the pilgrim caravans were accustomed to enter the city.\nOn the occasion of our Lord's entry the road was probably thronged with\nvisitors making their way to the great annual feast. No fewer than three\nmillion persons are said to have been sometimes packed together in\nJerusalem at the Passover; and all of them being on holiday, were ready\nfor any kind of excitement. The idea of a festal procession was quite to\ntheir mind. And no sooner did the disciples appear with Jesus riding in\ntheir midst than the vast streams of people caught the infection of\nloyal enthusiasm, tore down branches of the palms and olives which were\nfound in abundance by the roadside, and either waved them in the air or\nstrewed them in the line of march. Others unwrapped their loose cloaks\nfrom their shoulders and spread them along the rough path to form a\ncarpet as He approached--a custom which is still, it seems, observed in\nthe East in royal processions, and which has indeed sometimes been\nimported into our own country on great occasions. Thus with every\ndemonstration of loyalty, with ceaseless shoutings that were heard\nacross the valley in the streets of Jerusalem itself, and waving the\npalm branches, they moved towards the city.\n\nThose who have entered the city from Bethany by this road tell us that\nthere are two striking points in it. The first is when at a turn of the\nbroad and well-defined mountain track the southern portion of the city\ncomes for an instant into view. This part of the city was called \"the\ncity of David,\" and the suggestion is not without probability that it\nmay have been at this point the multitude burst out in words that linked\nJesus with David. \"Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is the King that\ncometh in the name of the Lord. Blessed is the kingdom of our father\nDavid. Hosanna, peace and glory in the highest.\" This became the\nwatchword of the day, so that even the boys who had come out of the city\nto see the procession were heard afterwards, as they loitered in the\nstreets, still shouting the same refrain.\n\nAfter this the road again dips, and the glimpse of the city is lost\nbehind the intervening ridge of Olivet; but shortly a rugged ascent is\nclimbed and a ledge of bare rock is reached, and in an instant the whole\ncity bursts into view. The prospect from this point must have been one\nof the grandest of its kind in the world, the fine natural position of\nJerusalem not only showing to advantage, but the long line of city wall\nembracing, like the setting of a jewel, the marvellous structures of\nHerod, the polished marble and the gilded pinnacles glittering in the\nmorning sun and dazzling the eye. It was in all probability at this\npoint that our Lord was overcome with regret when He considered the sad\nfate of the beautiful city, and when in place of the smiling palaces and\napparently impregnable walls His imagination filled His eye with\nsmoke-blackened ruins, with pavements slippery with blood, with walls\nbreached at all points and choked with rotting corpses.\n\nOur Lord's choice of the ass was significant. The ass was commonly used\nfor riding, and the well-cared-for ass of the rich man was a very fine\nanimal, much larger and stronger than the little breed with which we\nare familiar. Its coat, too, is as glossy as a well-kept\nhorse's--\"shiny black, or satiny white, or sleek mouse colour.\" It was\nnot chosen by our Lord at this time that He might show His humility, for\nit would have been still humbler to walk like His disciples. So far from\nbeing a token of humility, He chose a colt which apparently had never\nborne another rider. He rather meant by claiming the ass and by riding\ninto Jerusalem upon it to assert His royalty; but He did not choose a\nhorse, because that animal would have suggested royalty of quite another\nkind from His--royalty which was maintained by war and outward force;\nfor the horse and the chariot had always been among the Hebrews symbolic\nof warlike force. The disciples themselves, strangely enough, did not\nsee the significance of this action, although, when they had time to\nreflect upon it, they remembered that Zechariah had said: \"Rejoice\ngreatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy\nKing cometh unto thee: He is just, and having salvation; lowly, and\nriding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass. And I will cut\noff the chariot from Ephraim, and the horse from Jerusalem, and the\nbattle bow shall be cut off: and He shall speak peace unto the heathen.\"\n\nWhen John says, \"these things understood not His disciples at the\nfirst,\" he cannot mean that they did not understand that Jesus by this\nact claimed to be the Messiah, because even the mob perceived the\nsignificance of this entry into Jerusalem and hailed Him \"Son of David.\"\nWhat they did not understand, probably, was why He chose this mode of\nidentifying Himself with the Messiah. At any rate, their perplexity\nbrings out very clearly that the conception was not suggested to Jesus.\nHe was not induced by the disciples nor led on by the people to make a\ndemonstration which He Himself scarcely approved or had not intended to\nmake. On the contrary, from His first recorded act that morning He had\ntaken command of the situation. Whatever was done was done with\ndeliberation, at His own instance and as His own act.[4]\n\nThis then in the first place; it was His own deliberate act. He put\nHimself forward, knowing that He would receive the hosannas of the\npeople, and intending that He should receive them. All His backwardness\nis gone; all shyness of becoming a public spectacle is gone. For this\nalso is to be noted--that no place or occasion could have been more\npublic than the Passover at Jerusalem. Whatever it was He meant to\nindicate by His action, it was to the largest possible public He meant\nto indicate it. No longer in the retirement of a Galilean village, nor\nin a fisherman's cottage, nor in dubious or ambiguous terms, but in the\nfull blaze of the utmost publicity that could possibly be given to His\nproclamation, and in language that could not be forgotten or\nmisinterpreted, He now declared Himself. He knew He must attract the\nattention of the authorities, and His entrance was a direct challenge to\nthem.\n\nWhat was it then that with such deliberation and such publicity He meant\nto proclaim? What was it that in these last critical hours of His life,\nwhen He knew He should have few more opportunities of speaking to the\npeople, He sought to impress upon them? What was it that, when free from\nthe solicitations of men and the pressure of circumstances, He sought\nto declare? It was that He was the Messiah. There might be those in the\ncrowd who did not understand what was meant. There might be persons who\ndid not know Him, or who were incompetent judges of character, and\nsupposed He was a mere enthusiast carried away by dwelling too much on\nsome one aspect of Old Testament prophecy. In every generation there are\ngood men who become almost crazed upon some one topic, and sacrifice\neverything to the promotion of one favourite hope. But however He might\nbe misjudged, there can be no question of His own idea of the\nsignificance of His action. He claims to be the Messiah.\n\nSuch a claim is the most stupendous that could be made. To be the\nMessiah is to be God's Viceroy and Representative on earth, able to\nrepresent God adequately to men, and to bring about that perfect\ncondition which is named \"the kingdom of God.\" The Messiah must be\nconscious of ability perfectly to accomplish the will of God with man,\nand to bring men into absolute harmony with God. This is claimed by\nJesus. He stands in His sober senses and claims to be that universal\nSovereign, that true King of men, whom the Jews had been encouraged to\nexpect, and who when He came would reign over Gentiles as well as Jews.\nBy this demonstration, to which His previous career had been naturally\nleading up, He claims to take command of earth, of this world in all its\ngenerations, not in the easier sense of laying down upon paper a\npolitical constitution fit for all races, but in the sense of being able\nto deliver mankind from the source of all their misery and to lift men\nto a true superiority. He has gone about on earth, not secluding Himself\nfrom the woes and ways of men, not delicately isolating Himself, but\nexposing Himself freely to the touch of the malignities, the\nvulgarities, the ignorance and wickedness of all; and He now claims to\nrule all this, and implies that earth can present no complication of\ndistress or iniquity which he cannot by the Divine forces within Him\ntransform into health and purity and hope.\n\nThis then is His deliberate claim. He quietly but distinctly proclaims\nthat He fulfils all God's promise and purpose among men; is that\npromised King who was to rectify all things, to unite men to Himself,\nand to lead them on to their true destiny; to be practically God upon\nearth, accessible to men and identified with all human interests. Many\nhave tested His claim and have proved its validity. By true allegiance\nto Him many have found that they have gained the mastery over the world.\nThey have entered into peace, have felt eternal verities underneath\ntheir feet, and have attained a connection with God such as must be\neverlasting. They are filled with a new spirit towards men and see all\nthings with purged eyes. Not abruptly and unintelligibly, by leaps and\nbounds, but gradually and in harmony with the nature of things, His\nkingdom is extending. Already His Spirit has done much: in time His\nSpirit will everywhere prevail. It is by Him and on the lines which He\nhas laid down that humanity is advancing to its goal.\n\nThis was the claim He made; and this claim was enthusiastically admitted\nby the popular instinct.[5] The populace was not merely humouring in\nholiday mood a whimsical person for their own diversion. Many of them\nknew Lazarus and knew Jesus, and taking the matter seriously gave the\ntone to the rest. The people indeed did not, any more than the\ndisciples, understand how different the kingdom of their expectation was\nfrom the kingdom Jesus meant to found. But while they entirely\nmisapprehended the purpose for which He was sent, they believed that He\nwas sent by God: His credentials were absolutely satisfactory, His work\nincomprehensible. But as yet they still thought He must be of the same\nmind as themselves regarding the work of the Messiah. To His claim,\ntherefore, the response given by the people was loud and demonstrative.\nIt was indeed a very brief reign they accorded to their King, but their\nprompt acknowledgment of Him was the instinctive and irrepressible\nexpression of what they really felt to be His due. A popular\ndemonstration is notoriously untrustworthy, always running to extremes,\nnecessarily uttering itself with a loudness far in excess of individual\nconviction, and gathering to itself the loose and floating mass of\npeople who have no convictions of their own, and are thankful to any one\nwho leads them and gives them a cue, and helps them to feel that they\nhave after all a place in the community. Who has not stood by as an\nonlooker at a public demonstration and smiled at the noise and glare\nthat a mass of people will produce when their feelings are ever so\nlittle stirred, and marked how even against their own individual\nsentiments they are carried away by the mere tide of the day's\ncircumstances, and for the mere sake of making a demonstration? This\ncrowd which followed our Lord with shoutings very speedily repented and\nchanged their shouts into a far blinder shriek of rage against Him who\nhad been the occasion of their folly. And it must indeed have been a\nhumbling experience for our Lord to have Himself ushered into Jerusalem\nby a crowd through whose hosannas He already heard the mutter of their\ncurses. Such is the homage He has to content Himself with--such is the\nhomage a perfect life has won.\n\nFor He knew what was in man; and while His disciples might be deceived\nby this popular response to His claim, He Himself was fully aware how\nlittle it could be built upon. Save in His own heart, there is no\npremonition of death. More than ever in His life before does His sky\nseem bright without a cloud. He Himself is in His early prime with life\nbefore Him; His followers are hopeful, the multitude jubilant; but\nthrough all this gay enthusiasm He sees the scowling hate of the priests\nand scribes; the shouting of the multitude does not drown in His ear the\nmutterings of a Judas and of the Sanhedrim. He knew that the throne He\nwas now hailed to was the cross, that His coronation was the reception\non His own brows of all the thorns and stings and burdens that man's sin\nhad brought into the world. He did not fancy that the redemption of the\nworld to God was an easy matter which could be accomplished by an\nafternoon's enthusiasm. He kept steadily before His mind the actual\ncondition of the men who were by His spiritual influence to become the\nwilling and devoted subjects of God's kingdom. He measured with accuracy\nthe forces against Him, and understood that His warfare was not with the\nlegions of Rome, against whom this Jewish patriotism and indomitable\ncourage and easily roused enthusiasm might tell, but with principalities\nand powers a thousandfold stronger, with the demons of hatred and\njealousy, of lust and worldliness, of carnality and selfishness. Never\nfor a moment did He forget His true mission and sell His spiritual\nthrone, hard-earned as it was to be, for popular applause and the\nglories of the hour. Knowing that only by the utmost of human goodness\nand self-sacrifice, and by the utmost of trial and endurance, could any\ntrue and lasting rule of men be gained, He chose this path and the\nthrone it led to. With the most comprehensive view of the kingdom He was\nto found, and with a spirit of profound seriousness strangely\ncontrasting in its composed and self-possessed insight with the blind\ntumult around Him, He claimed the crown of the Messiah. His suffering\nwas not formal and nominal, it was not a mere pageant; equally real was\nthe claim He now made and which brought Him to that suffering.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[4] This is more distinctly brought out in the Synoptic Gospels than in\nSt. John: cp. Mark xi. 1-10.\n\n[5] According to the reading of the scene by St. John, the people needed\nno prompting.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\n_THE CORN OF WHEAT._\n\n\n    \"Now there were certain Greeks among those that went up to worship\n    at the feast: these therefore came to Philip, which was of Bethsaida\n    of Galilee, and asked him, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus. Philip\n    cometh and telleth Andrew: Andrew cometh, and Philip, and they tell\n    Jesus. And Jesus answereth them, saying, The hour is come, that the\n    Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you,\n    Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it abideth by\n    itself alone; but if it die, it beareth much fruit. He that loveth\n    his life loseth it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall\n    keep it unto life eternal.\"--JOHN xii. 20-26.\n\n\nSt. John now introduces a third incident to show that all is ripe for\nthe death of Jesus. Already he has shown us that in the inmost circle of\nHis friends He has now won for Himself a permanent place, a love which\nensures that His memory will be had in everlasting remembrance. Next, he\nhas lifted into prominence the scene in which the outer circle of the\nJewish people were constrained, in an hour when their honest enthusiasm\nand instincts carried them away, to acknowledge Him as the Messiah who\nhad come to fulfil all God's will upon earth. He now goes on to tell us\nhow this agitation at the centre was found rippling in ever-widening\ncircles till it broke with a gentle whisper on the shores of the isles\nof the Gentiles. This is the significance which St. John sees in the\nrequest of the Greeks that they might be introduced to Jesus.\n\nThese Greeks were \"of those that came up to worship at the feast.\" They\nwere proselytes, Greeks by birth, Jews by religion. They suggest the\nimportance for Christianity of the leavening process which Judaism was\naccomplishing throughout the world. They may not have come from any\nremoter country than Galilee, but from traditions and customs separate\nas the poles from the Jewish customs and thoughts. From their heathen\nsurroundings they came to Jerusalem, possibly for the first time, with\nwondering anticipations of the blessedness of those who dwelt in God's\nhouse, and feeling their thirst for the living God burning within them\nas their eyes lighted on the pinnacles of the Temple, and as at last\ntheir feet stood within its precincts. But up through all these desires\ngrew one that overshadowed them, and, through all the petitions which a\nyear or many years of sin and difficulty had made familiar to their\nlips, this petition made its way: \"Sir, we would see Jesus.\"\n\nThis petition they address to Philip, not only because he had a Greek\nname, and therefore presumably belonged to a family in which Greek was\nspoken and Greek connections cultivated, but because, as St. John\nreminds us, he was \"of Bethsaida of Galilee,\" and might be expected to\nunderstand and speak Greek, if, indeed, he was not already known to\nthese strangers in Jerusalem. And by their request they obviously did\nnot mean that Philip should set them in a place of vantage from which\nthey might have a good view of Jesus as He passed by, for this they\ncould well have accomplished without Philip's friendly intervention. But\nthey wished to question and make Him out, to see for themselves whether\nthere were in Jesus what even in Judaism they felt to be\nlacking--whether He at last might not satisfy the longings of their\nDivinely awakened spirits. Possibly they may even have wished to\nascertain His purposes regarding the outlying nations, how the Messianic\nreign was to affect them. Possibly they may even have thought of\noffering Him an asylum where He might find shelter from the hostility of\nHis own people.\n\nEvidently Philip considered that this request was critical. The\nApostles had been charged not to enter into any Gentile city, and they\nmight naturally suppose that Jesus would be reluctant to be interviewed\nby Greeks. But before dismissing the request, he lays it before Andrew\nhis friend, who also bore a Greek name; and after deliberation the two\nmake bold, if not to urge the request, at least to inform Jesus that it\nhad been made. At once in this modestly urged petition He hears the\nwhole Gentile world uttering its weary, long-disappointed sigh, \"We\nwould see.\" This is no mere Greek inquisitiveness; it is the craving of\nthoughtful men recognising their need of a Redeemer. To the eye of\nJesus, therefore, this meeting opens a prospect which for the moment\novercomes Him with the brightness of its glory. In this little knot of\nstrangers He sees the firstfruits of the immeasurable harvest which was\nhenceforth to be continuously reaped among the Gentiles. No more do we\nhear the heart-broken cry, \"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem!\" no longer the\nreproachful \"Ye will not come to Me, that ye might have life,\" but the\nglad consummation of His utmost hope utters itself in the words, \"The\nhour is come that the Son of man should be glorified.\"\n\nBut while promise was thus given of the glorification of the Messiah by\nHis reception among all men, the path which led to this was never absent\nfrom the mind of our Lord. Second to the inspiriting thought of His\nrecognition by the Gentile world came the thought of the painful means\nby which alone He could be truly glorified. He checks, therefore, the\nshout of exultation which He sees rising to the lips of His disciples\nwith the sobering reflection: \"Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a\ncorn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it\ndie, it bringeth forth much fruit.\" As if He said, Do not fancy that I\nhave nothing to do but to accept the sceptre which these men offer, to\nseat Myself on the world's throne. The world's throne is the Cross.\nThese men will not know My power until I die. The manifestation of\nDivine presence in My life, has been distinct enough to win them to\ninquiry; they will be for ever won to Me by the Divine presence revealed\nin My death. Like the corn of wheat, I must die if I would be abundantly\nfruitful. It is through death My whole living power can be disengaged\nand can accomplish all possibilities.\n\nTwo points are here suggested: (I.) That the life, the living force that\nwas in Christ, reached its proper value and influence through His death;\nand (II.) that the proper value of Christ's life is that it propagates\nsimilar lives.\n\nI. The life of Christ acquired its proper value and received its fit\ndevelopment through His death. This truth He sets before us in the\nilluminating figure of the corn of wheat. \"Except a corn of wheat fall\ninto the ground and die, it abideth alone.\" There are three uses to\nwhich wheat may be put: it may be stored for sale, it may be ground and\neaten, it may be sown. For our Lord's purposes these three uses may be\nconsidered as only two. Wheat may be eaten, or it may be sown. With a\npickle of wheat or a grain of oats you may do one of two things: you may\neat it and enjoy a momentary gratification and benefit; or you may put\nit in the ground, burying it out of sight and suffering it to pass\nthrough uncomely processes, and it will reappear multiplied a\nhundredfold, and so on in everlasting series. Year by year men sacrifice\ntheir choicest sample of grain, and are content to bury it in the earth\ninstead of exposing it in the market, because they understand that\nexcept it die it abideth alone, but if it die it bringeth forth much\nfruit. The proper life of the grain is terminated when it is used for\nimmediate gratification: it receives its fullest development and\naccomplishes its richest end when it is cast into the ground, buried out\nof sight, and apparently lost.\n\nAs with the grain, so is it with each human life. One of two things you\ncan do with your life; both you cannot do, and no third thing is\npossible. You may consume your life for your own present gratification\nand profit, to satisfy your present cravings and tastes and to secure\nthe largest amount of immediate enjoyment to yourself--you may eat your\nlife; or you may be content to put aside present enjoyment and profits\nof a selfish kind and devote your life to the uses of God and men. In\nthe one case you make an end of your life, you consume it as it goes; no\ngood results, no enlarging influence, no deepening of character, no\nfuller life, follows from such an expenditure of life--spent on yourself\nand on the present, it terminates with yourself and with the present.\nBut in the other case you find you have entered into a more abundant\nlife; by living for others your interests are widened, your desire for\nlife increased, the results and ends of life enriched. \"He that loveth\nhis life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall\nkeep it unto life eternal.\" It is a law we cannot evade. He that\nconsumes his life now, spending it on himself--he who cannot bear to let\nhis life out of his own hand, but cherishes and pampers it and gathers\nall good around it, and will have the fullest present enjoyment out of\nit,--this man is losing his life; it comes to an end as certainly as the\nseed that is eaten. But he who devotes his life to other uses than his\nown gratification, who does not so prize self that everything must\nminister to its comfort and advancement, but who can truly yield himself\nto God and put himself at God's disposal for the general good,--this\nman, though he may often seem to lose his life, and often does lose it\nso far as present advantage goes, keeps it to life everlasting.\n\nThe law of the seed is the law of human life. Use your life for present\nand selfish gratification and to satisfy your present cravings, and you\nlose it for ever. Renounce self, yield yourself to God, spend your life\nfor the common good, irrespective of recognition or the lack of it,\npersonal pleasure or the absence of it, and although your life may thus\nseem to be lost, it is finding its best and highest development and\npasses into life eternal. Your life is a seed now, not a developed\nplant, and it can become a developed plant only by your taking heart to\ncast it from you and sow it in the fertile soil of other men's needs.\nThis will seem, indeed, to disintegrate it and fritter it away, and\nleave it a contemptible, obscure, forgotten thing; but it does, in fact,\nset free the vital forces that are in it, and give it its fit career and\nmaturity.\n\nLooking at the thing itself, apart from figure, it is apparent that \"he\nthat loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this\nworld shall keep it unto life eternal.\" The man who most freely uses his\nlife for others, keeping least to himself and living solely for the\ncommon interests of mankind, has the most enduring influence. He sets in\nmotion forces which propagate fresh results eternally. And not only so.\nHe who freely sows his life has it eternally, not only in so far as he\nhas set in motion an endless series of beneficent influences, but\ninasmuch as he himself enters into life eternal. An immortality of\ninfluence is one thing and a very great thing; but an immortality of\npersonal life is another, and this also is promised by our Lord when He\nsays (ver. 26), \"Where I am, there shall also My servant be.\"\n\nThis, then, being the law of human life, Christ, being man, must not\nonly enounce but observe it. He speaks of Himself even more directly\nthan of us when He says, \"He that loveth his life shall lose it.\" His\ndisciples thought they had never seen such promise in His life as at\nthis hour: seedtime seemed to them to be past, and the harvest at hand.\nTheir Master seemed to be fairly launched on the tide that was to carry\nHim to the highest pinnacle of human glory. And so He was, but not, as\nthey thought, by simply yielding Himself to be set as King and to\nreceive adoration from Jew and Gentile. He saw with different eyes, and\nthat it was a different exaltation which would win for Him lasting\nsovereignty: \"I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me.\" He knew\nthe law which governed the development of human life. He knew that a\ntotal and absolute surrender of self to the uses and needs of others was\nthe one path to permanent life, and that in His case this absolute\nsurrender involved death.\n\nA comparison of the good done by the life of Christ with that done by\nHis death shows how truly He judged when He declared that it was by His\ndeath He should effectually gather all men to Him. His death, like the\ndissolution of the seed, seemed to terminate His work, but really was\nits germination. So long as He lived, it was but His single strength\nthat was used; He abode alone. There was great virtue in His life--great\npower for the healing, the instruction, the elevation, of mankind. In\nHis brief public career He suggested much to the influential men of His\ntime, set all men who knew Him a-thinking, aided many to reform their\nlives, and removed a large amount of distress and disease. He\ncommunicated to the world a mass of new truth, so that those who have\nlived after Him have stood at quite a different level of knowledge from\nthat of those who lived before Him. And yet how little of the proper\nresults of Christ's influence, how little understanding of Christianity,\ndo you find even in His nearest friends until He died. By the visible\nappearance and the external benefits and the false expectations His\ngreatness created, the minds of men were detained from penetrating to\nthe spirit and mind of Christ. It was expedient for them that He should\ngo away, for until He went they depended on His visible power, and His\nspirit could not be wholly received by them. They were looking at the\nhusk of the seed, and its life could not reach them. They were looking\nfor help from Him instead of themselves becoming like Him.\n\nAnd therefore He chose at an early age to cease from all that was\nmarvellous and beneficent in His life among men. He might, as these\nGreeks suggested, have visited other lands and have continued His\nhealing and teaching there. He might have done more in His own time than\nHe did, and His time might have been indefinitely prolonged; but He\nchose to cease from all this and voluntarily gave Himself to die,\njudging that thereby He could do much more good than by His life. He was\nstraitened till this was accomplished; He felt as a man imprisoned and\nwhose powers are held in check. It was winter and not spring-time with\nHim. There was a change to pass upon Him which should disengage the\nvital forces that were in Him and cause their full power to be felt--a\nchange which should thaw the springs of life in Him and let them flow\nforth to all. To use His own figure, He was as a seed unsown so long as\nHe lived, valuable only in His own proper person; but by dying His life\nobtained the value of seed sown, propagating its kind in everlasting\nincrease.\n\nII. The second point suggested is, that the proper value of Christ's\nlife consists in this--that it propagates similar lives. As seed\nproduces grain of its own kind, so Christ produces men like Christ. He\nceasing to do good in this world as a living man, a multitude of others\nby this very cessation are raised in His likeness. By His death we\nreceive both inclination and ability to become with Him sons of God.\n\"The love of Christ constraineth us, because we thus judge that if one\ndied for all, then all died; and that He died for all, that they which\nlive should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him that died\nfor them.\" By His death He has effected an entrance for this law of\nself-surrender into human life, has exhibited it in a perfect form, and\nhas won others to live as He lived. So that, using the figure He used,\nwe may say that the company of Christians now on earth are Christ in a\nnew form, His body indeed. \"That which thou sowest, thou sowest not that\nbody which shall be, but bare grain: but God giveth it a body as it hath\npleased Him, and to every seed his own body.\" Christ having been sown,\nlives now in His people. They are the body in which He dwells. And this\nwill be seen. For standing and looking at a head of barley waving on its\nstalk, no amount of telling would persuade you that that had sprung from\na seed of wheat; and looking at any life which is characterised by\nselfish ambition and eagerness for advancement and little regard for the\nwants of other men, no persuasion can make it credible that that life\nsprings from the self-sacrificing life of Christ.\n\nWhat Christ here shows us, then, is that the principle which regulates\nthe development of seed regulates the growth, continuance, and\nfruitfulness of human life; that whatever is of the nature of seed gets\nto its full life only through death; that our Lord, knowing this law,\nsubmitted to it, or rather by His native love was attracted to the life\nand death which revealed this law to Him. He gave His life away for the\ngood of men, and therefore prolongs His days and sees His seed\neternally. There is not one way for Him and another for us. The same law\napplies to all. It is not peculiar to Christ. The work He did was\npeculiar to Him, as each individual has his own place and work; but the\nprinciple on which all right lives are led is one and the same\nuniversally. What Christ did He did because He was living a human life\non right principles. We need not die on the cross as He did, but we must\nas truly yield ourselves as living sacrifices to the interests of men.\nIf we have not done so, we have yet to go back to the very beginning of\nall lasting life and progress; and we are but deceiving ourselves by\nattainments and successes which are not only hollow, but are slowly\ncramping and killing all that is in us. Whoever will choose the same\ndestiny as Christ must take the same road to it that He took. He took\nthe one right way for men to go, and said, \"If any man follow Me, where\nI am there will he be also.\" If we do not follow Him, we really walk in\ndarkness and know not whither we go. We cannot live for selfish purposes\nand then enjoy the common happiness and glory of the race. Self-seeking\nis self-destroying.\n\nAnd it is needful to remark that this self-renunciation must be real.\nThe law of sacrifice is the law not for a year or two in order to gain\nsome higher selfish good--which is not self-sacrifice, but deeper\nself-seeking; it is the law of all human life, not a short test of our\nfidelity to Christ, but the only law on which life can ever proceed. It\nis not a barter of self I make, giving it up for a little that I may\nhave an enriched self to eternity; but it is a real foregoing and\nabandonment of self for ever, a change of desire and nature, so that\ninstead of finding my joy in what concerns myself only I find my joy in\nwhat is serviceable to others.\n\nThus only can we enter into permanent happiness. Goodness and happiness\nare one--one in the long-run, if not one in every step of the way. We\nare not asked to live for others without any heart to do so. We are not\nasked to choose as our eternal life what will be a constant pain and can\nonly be reluctantly done. The very heathen would not offer in sacrifice\nthe animal that struggled as it was led to the altar. All sacrifice must\nbe willingly made; it must be the sacrifice which is prompted by love.\nGod and this world demand our best work, and only what we do with\npleasure can be our best work. Sacrifice of self and labour for others\nare not like Christ's sacrifice and labour unless they spring from love.\nForced, reluctant, constrained sacrifice or service--service which is no\njoy to ourselves through the love we bear to those for whom we do it--is\nnot the service that is required of us. Service into which we can throw\nour whole strength, because we are convinced it will be of use to\nothers, and because we long to see them enjoying it--this is the service\nrequired. Love, in short, is the solution of all. Find your happiness in\nthe happiness of many rather than in the happiness of one, and life\nbecomes simple and inspiring.\n\nNor are we to suppose that this is an impracticable, high-pitched\ncounsel of perfection with which plain men need not trouble themselves.\n_Every_ human life is under this law. There is no path to goodness or to\nhappiness save this one. Nature herself teaches us as much. When a man\nis truly attracted by another, and when genuine affection possesses his\nheart, his whole being is enlarged, and he finds it his best pleasure to\nserve that person. The father who sees his children enjoying the fruit\nof his toil feels himself a far richer man than if he were spending all\non himself. But this family affection, this domestic solution of the\nproblem of happy self-sacrifice, is intended to encourage and show us\nthe way to a wider extension of our love, and thereby of our use and\nhappiness. The more love we have, the happier we are. Self-sacrifice\nlooks miserable, and we shrink from it as from death and destitution,\nbecause we look at it in separation from the love it springs from.\nSelf-sacrifice without love _is_ death; we abandon our own life and do\nnot find it again in any other. It is a seed ground under the heel, not\na seed lightly thrown into prepared soil. It is in love that goodness\nand happiness have their common root. And it is this love which is\nrequired of us and promised to us. So that as often as we shudder at the\ndissolution of our own personal interests, the scattering of our own\nselfish hopes and plans, the surrender of our life to the service of\nothers, we are to remember that this, which looks so very like death,\nand which often throws around our prospects the chilling atmosphere of\nthe tomb, is not really the termination, but the beginning of the true\nand eternal life of the spirit. Let us keep our heart in the fellowship\nof the sacrifice of Christ, let us feel our way into the meanings and\nuses of that sacrifice, and learn its reality, its utility, its grace,\nand at length it will lay hold of our whole nature, and we shall find\nthat it impels us to regard other men with interest and to find our true\njoy and life in serving them.\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\n_THE ATTRACTIVE FORCE OF THE CROSS._\n\n\n    \"Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save Me from\n    this hour. But for this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify\n    Thy name. There came therefore a voice out of heaven, saying, I have\n    both glorified it, and will glorify it again. The multitude\n    therefore, that stood by, and heard it, said that it had thundered:\n    others said, An angel hath spoken to Him. Jesus answered and said,\n    This voice hath not come for My sake, but for your sakes. Now is the\n    judgment of this world: now shall the prince of this world be cast\n    out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto\n    Myself. But this He said, signifying by what manner of death He\n    should die. The multitude therefore answered Him, We have heard out\n    of the law that the Christ abideth for ever: and how sayest thou,\n    The Son of man must be lifted up? who is this Son of man? Jesus\n    therefore said unto them, Yet a little while is the light among you.\n    Walk while ye have the light, that darkness overtake you not: and he\n    that walketh in the darkness knoweth not whither he goeth. While ye\n    have the light, believe on the light, that ye may become sons of\n    light.\"--JOHN xii. 27-36.\n\n\nThe presence of the Greeks had stirred in the soul of Jesus conflicting\nemotions. Glory by humiliation, life through death, the secured\nhappiness of mankind through His own anguish and abandonment,--well\nmight the prospect disturb Him. So masterly is His self-command, so\nsteadfast and constant His habitual temper, that one almost inevitably\nunderrates the severity of the conflict. The occasional withdrawal of\nthe veil permits us reverently to observe some symptoms of the turmoil\nwithin--symptoms which it is probably best to speak of in His own words:\n\"Now is My soul troubled; and what shall I say? Shall I say, 'Father,\nsave Me from this hour'? But for this cause came I unto this hour.\nFather, glorify Thy name.\" This Evangelist does not describe the agony\nin the Garden of Gethsemane. It was needless after this indication of\nthe same conflict. Here is the same shrinking from a public and shameful\ndeath conquered by His resolution to deliver men from a still darker and\nmore shameful death. Here is the same foretaste of the bitterness of the\ncup as it now actually touches His lips, the same clear reckoning of all\nit meant to drain that cup to the dregs, together with the deliberate\nassent to all that the will of the Father might require Him to endure.\n\nIn response to this act of submission, expressed in the words, \"Father,\nglorify Thy name,\" there came a voice from heaven, saying, \"I have both\nglorified it, and will glorify it again.\" The meaning of this assurance\nwas, that as in all the past manifestation of Christ the Father had\nbecome better known to men, so in all that was now impending, however\npainful and disturbed, however filled with human passions and to all\nappearance the mere result of them, the Father would still be glorified.\nSome thought the voice was thunder; others seemed almost to catch\narticulate sounds, and said, \"An angel spake to Him.\" But Jesus\nexplained that it was not \"to Him\" the voice was specially addressed,\nbut rather for the sake of those who stood by. And it was indeed of\nimmense importance that the disciples should understand that the events\nwhich were about to happen were overruled by God that He might be\nglorified in Christ. It is easy for us to see that nothing so glorifies\nthe Father's name as these hours of suffering; but how hard for the\nonlookers to believe that this sudden transformation of the Messianic\nthrone into the criminal's cross was no defeat of God's purpose, but its\nfinal fulfilment. He leads them, therefore, to consider that in His\njudgment the whole world is judged, and to perceive in His arrest and\ntrial and condemnation not merely the misguided and wanton outrage of a\nfew men in power, but the critical hour of the world's history.\n\nThis world has commonly presented itself to thoughtful minds as a\nbattle-field in which the powers of good and evil wage ceaseless war. In\nthe words He now utters the Lord declares Himself to be standing at the\nvery crisis of the battle, and with the deepest assurance He announces\nthat the opposing power is broken and that victory remains with Him.\n\"Now is the prince of this world cast out; and I will draw all men unto\nMe.\" The prince of this world, that which actually rules and leads men\nin opposition to God, was judged, condemned, and overthrown in the death\nof Christ. By His meek acceptance of God's will in the face of all that\ncould make it difficult and dreadful to accept it, He won for the race\ndeliverance from the thraldom of sin. At length a human life had been\nlived without submission at any point to the prince of this world. As\nman and in the name of all men Jesus resisted the last and most violent\nassault that could be made upon His faith in God and fellowship with\nHim, and so perfected His obedience and overcame the prince of this\nworld,--overcame him not in one act alone--many had done that--but in a\ncompleted human life, in a life which had been freely exposed to the\ncomplete array of temptations that can be directed against men in this\nworld.\n\nIn order more clearly to apprehend the promise of victory contained in\nour Lord's words, we may consider (I.) the object He had in view--to\n\"draw all men\" to Him; and (II.) the condition of His attaining this\nobject--namely, His death.\n\nI. The object of Christ was to draw all men to Him. The opposition in\nwhich He here sets Himself to the prince of this world shows us that by\n\"drawing\" He means attracting _as a king attracts_, to His name, His\nclaims, His standard, His person. Our life consists in our pursuance of\none object or another, and our devotion is continually competed for.\nWhen two claimants contest a kingdom, the country is divided between\nthem, part cleaving to the one and part to the other. The individual\ndetermines to which side he shall cleave,--by his prejudices or by his\njustice, as it may be; by his knowledge of the comparative capacity of\nthe claimants, or by his ignorant predilection. He is taken in by\nsounding titles, or he penetrates through all bombast and promises and\ndouceurs to the real merit or demerit of the man himself. One person\nwill judge by the personal manners of the respective claimants; another\nby their published manifesto, and professed object and style of rule;\nanother by their known character and probable conduct. And while men\nthus range themselves on this side or on that, they really pass judgment\non themselves, betraying as they do what it is that chiefly draws them,\nand taking their places on the side of good or evil. It is thus that we\nall judge ourselves by following this or that claimant to our faith,\nregard, and devotion, to ourself and our life. What we spend ourselves\non, what we aim at and pursue, what we make our object, that judges us\nand that rules us and that determines our destiny.\n\nChrist came into the world to be our King, to lead us to worthy\nachievements. He came that we might have a worthy object of choice and\nof the devotion of our life. He serves the same purpose as a king: He\nembodies in His own person, and thereby makes visible and attractive,\nthe will of God and the cause of righteousness. Persons who could only\nwith great difficulty apprehend His objects and plans can appreciate His\nperson and trust Him. Persons to whom there would seem little attraction\nin a cause or in an undefined \"progress of humanity\" can kindle with\nenthusiasm towards Him personally, and unconsciously promote His cause\nand the cause of humanity. And therefore, while some are attracted by\nHis person, others by the legitimacy of His claims, others by His\nprogramme of government, others by His benefactions, we must beware of\ndenying loyalty to any of these. Expressions of love to His person may\nbe lacking in the man who yet most intelligently enters into Christ's\nviews for the race, and sacrifices his means and his life to forward\nthese views. Those who gather to His standard are various in\ntemperament, are drawn by various attractions, and must be various in\ntheir forms of showing allegiance. And this, which is the strength of\nHis camp, can only become its weakness when men begin to think there is\nno way but their own; and that allegiance which is strenuous in labour\nbut not fluent in devout expression, or loyalty which shouts and throws\nits cap in the air but lacks intelligence, is displeasing to the King.\nThe King, who has great ends in view, will not inquire what it is\nprecisely which forms the bond between Him and His subjects so long as\nthey truly sympathise with Him and second His efforts. The one question\nis, Is He their actual leader?\n\nOf the kingdom of Christ, though a full description cannot be given, one\nor two of the essential characteristics may be mentioned.\n\n1. It is _a kingdom_, a community of men under one head. When Christ\nproposed to attract men to Himself, it was for the good of the race He\ndid so. It could achieve its destiny only if He led it, only if it\nyielded itself to His mind and ways. And those who are attracted to Him,\nand see reason to believe that the hope of the world lies in the\nuniversal adoption of His mind and ways, are formed into one solid body\nor community. They labour for the same ends, are governed by the same\nlaws, and whether they know one another or not they have the most real\nsympathy and live for one cause. Being drawn to Christ, we enter into\nabiding fellowship with all the good who have laboured or are labouring\nin the cause of humanity. We take our places in the everlasting kingdom,\nin the community of those who shall see and take part in the great\nfuture of mankind and the growing enlargement of its destiny. We are\nhereby entered among the living, and are joined to that body of mankind\nwhich is to go on and which holds the future--not to an extinct party\nwhich may have memories, but has no hopes. In sin, in selfishness, in\nworldliness, individualism reigns, and all profound or abiding unity is\nimpossible. Sinners have common interests only for a time, only as a\ntemporary guise of selfish interests. Every man out of Christ is really\nan isolated individual. But passing into Christ's kingdom we are no\nlonger isolated, abandoned wretches stranded by the stream of time, but\nmembers of the undying commonwealth of men in which our life, our work,\nour rights, our future, our association with all good, are assured.\n\n2. It is a _universal_ kingdom. \"I will draw _all_ men unto Me.\" The one\nrational hope of forming men into one kingdom shines through these\nwords. The idea of a universal monarchy has visited the great minds of\nour race. They have cherished their various dreams of a time when all\nmen should live under one law and possibly speak one language, and have\ninterests so truly in common that war should be impossible. But an\neffectual instrument for accomplishing this grand design has ever been\nwanting. Christ turns this grandest dream of humanity into a rational\nhope. He appeals to what is universally present in human nature. There\nis that in Him which every man needs,--a door to the Father; a visible\nimage of the unseen God; a gracious, wise, and holy Friend. He does not\nappeal exclusively to one generation, to educated or to uneducated, to\nOrientals or to Europeans alone, but to man, to that which we have in\ncommon with the lowest and the highest, the most primitive and most\nhighly developed of the species. The attractive influence He exerts upon\nmen is not conditioned by their historical insight, by their ability to\nsift evidence, by this or that which distinguishes man from man, but by\ntheir innate consciousness that some higher power than themselves\nexists, by their ability, if not to recognise goodness when they see it,\nat least to recognise love when it is spent upon them.\n\nBut while our Lord affirms that there is that in Him which all men can\nrecognise and learn to love and serve, He does not say that His kingdom\nwill therefore be quickly formed. He does not say that this greatest\nwork of God will take a shorter time than the common works of God which\nprolong one day of our hasty methods into a thousand years of solidly\ngrowing purpose. If it has taken a million ages for the rocks to knit\nand form for us a standing-ground and dwelling-place, we must not expect\nthat this kingdom, which is to be the one enduring result of this\nworld's history, and which can be built up only of thoroughly convinced\nmen and of generations slowly weeded of traditional prejudices and\ncustoms, can be completed in a few years. No doubt interests are at\nstake in human destiny and losses are made by human waste which had no\nplace in the physical creation of the world; still, God's methods are,\nas we judge, slow, and we must not think that He who \"works hitherto\" is\ndoing nothing because the swift processes of jugglery or the hasty\nmethods of human workmanship find no place in the extension of Christ's\nkingdom. This kingdom has a firm hold of the world and must grow. If\nthere is one thing certain about the future of the world, it is that\nrighteousness and truth will prevail. The world is bound to come to the\nfeet of Christ.\n\n3. Christ's kingdom being universal, it is also and necessarily\n_inward_. What is common to all men lies deepest in each. Christ was\nconscious that He held the key to human nature. He knew what was in man.\nWith the penetrating insight of absolute purity He had gone about among\nmen, freely mixing with rich and with poor, with the sick and the\nhealthy, with the religious and the irreligious. He was as much at home\nwith the condemned criminal as with the blameless Pharisee; saw through\nPilate and Caiaphas alike; knew all that the keenest dramatist could\ntell Him of the meannesses, the depravities, the cruelties, the blind\npassions, the obstructed goodness, of men; but knew also that He could\nsway all that was in man and exhibit that to men which should cause the\nsinner to abhor his sin and seek the face of God. This He would do by a\nsimple moral process, without violent demonstration or disturbance or\nassertion of authority. He would \"draw\" men. It is by inward conviction,\nnot by outward compulsion, men are to become His subjects. It is by the\nfree and rational working of the human mind that Jesus builds up His\nkingdom. His hope lies in a fuller and fuller light, in a clearer and\nclearer recognition of facts. Attachment to Christ must be the act of\nthe soul's self; everything, therefore, which strengthens the will or\nenlightens the mind or enlarges the man brings him nearer to the kingdom\nof Christ, and makes it more likely he will yield to His drawing.\n\nAnd because Christ's rule is inward it is therefore of universal\napplication. The inmost choice of the man being governed by Christ, and\nhis character being thus touched at its inmost spring, all his conduct\nwill be governed by Christ and be a carrying out of the will of Christ.\nIt is not the frame of society Christ seeks to alter, but the spirit of\nit. It is not the occupations and institutions of human life which the\nsubject of Christ finds to be incompatible with Christ's rule, so much\nas the aim and principles on which they are conducted. The kingdom of\nChrist claims all human life as its own, and the spirit of Christ finds\nnothing that is essentially human alien from it. If the statesman is a\nChristian, it will be seen in his policy; if the poet is a Christian,\nhis song will betray it; if a thinker be a Christian, his readers soon\nfind it out. Christianity does not mean religious services, churches,\ncreeds, Bibles, books, equipment of any kind; it means the Spirit of\nChrist. It is the most portable and flexible of all religions, and\ntherefore the most pervasive and dominant in the life of its adherent.\nIt needs but the Spirit of God and the spirit of man, and Christ\nmediating between them.\n\nII. Such being Christ's object, what is the condition of His attaining\nit? \"I, _if I be lifted up_, will draw all men unto Me.\" The elevation\nrequisite for becoming a visible object to men of all generations was\nthe elevation of the Cross. His death would accomplish what His life\ncould not accomplish. The words betray a distinct consciousness that\nthere was in His death a more potent spell, a more certain and real\ninfluence for good among men than in His teaching or in His miracles or\nin His purity of life.\n\nWhat is it, then, in the death of Christ which so far surpasses His life\nin its power of attraction? The life was equally unselfish and devoted;\nit was more prolonged; it was more directly useful,--why, then, would it\nhave been comparatively ineffective without the death? It may, in the\nfirst place, be answered, Because His death presents in a dramatic and\ncompact form that very devotedness which is diffused through every part\nof His life. Between the life and the death there is the same difference\nas between sheet lightning and forked lightning, between the diffused\nheat of the sun and the same heat focussed upon a point through a lens.\nIt discloses what was actually but latently there. The life and the\ndeath of Christ are one and mutually explain each other. From the life\nwe learn that no motive can have prompted Christ to die but the one\nmotive which ruled Him always--the desire to do all God willed in men's\nbehalf. We cannot interpret the death as anything else than a consistent\npart of a deliberate work undertaken for men's good. It was not an\naccident; it was not an external necessity: it was, as the whole life\nwas, a willing acceptance of the uttermost that was required to set men\non a higher level and unite them to God. But as the life throws this\nlight upon the death of Christ, how that light is gathered up and thrown\nabroad in world-wide reflection from the death of Christ! For here His\nself-sacrifice shines completed and perfect; here it is exhibited in\nthat tragic and supreme form which in all cases arrests attention and\ncommands respect. Even when a man of wasted life sacrifices himself at\nlast, and in one heroic act saves another by his death, his past life is\nforgotten or seems to be redeemed by his death, and at all events we own\nthe beauty and the pathos of the deed. A martyr to the faith may have\nbeen but a poor creature, narrow, harsh and overbearing, vain and\nvulgar in spirit; but all the past is blotted out, and our attention is\narrested on the blazing pile or the bloody scaffold. So the death of\nChrist, though but a part of the self-sacrificing life, yet stands by\nitself as the culmination and seal of that life; it catches the eye and\nstrikes the mind, and conveys at one view the main impression made by\nthe whole life and character of Him who gave Himself upon the cross.\n\nBut Christ is no mere hero or teacher sealing his truth with his blood;\nnor is it enough to say that His death renders, in a conspicuous form,\nthe perfect self-sacrifice with which He devoted Himself to our good. It\nis conceivable that in a long-past age some other man should have lived\nand died for his fellows, and yet we at once recognise that, though the\nhistory of such a person came into our hands, we should not be so\naffected and drawn by it as to choose him as our king and rest upon him\nthe hope of uniting us to one another and to God. Wherein, then, lies\nthe difference? The difference lies in this--that Christ was the\nrepresentative of God. This He Himself uniformly claimed to be. He knew\nHe was unique, different from all others; but He advanced no claim to\nesteem that did not pass to the Father who sent Him. Always he explained\nHis powers as being the proper equipment of God's representative, \"The\nwords that I speak unto you, I speak not of Myself.\" His whole life was\nthe message of God to man, the Word made flesh. His death was but the\nlast syllable of this great utterance--the utterance of God's love for\nman, the final evidence that nothing is grudged us by God. Greater love\nhath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. His\ndeath draws us because there is in it more than human heroism and\nself-sacrifice. It draws us because in it the very heart of God is laid\nbare to us. It softens, it breaks us down, by the irresistible\ntenderness it discloses in the mighty and ever-blessed God. Every man\nfeels it has a message for him, because in it the God and Father of us\nall speaks to us.\n\nIt is this which is special to the death of Christ, and which separates\nit from all other deaths and heroic sacrifices. It has a universal\nbearing--a bearing upon every man, because it is a Divine act, the act\nof that One who is the God and Father of all men. In the same century as\nour Lord many men died in a manner which strongly excites our\nadmiration. Nothing could well be more noble, nothing more pathetic,\nthan the fearless and loving spirit in which Roman after Roman met his\ndeath. But beyond respectful admiration these heroic deeds win from us\nno further sentiment. They are the deeds of men who have no connection\nwith us. The well-worn words, \"What's Hecuba _to me_ or I to Hecuba?\"\nrise to our lips when we try to fancy any deep connection. But the death\nof Christ concerns all men without exception, because it is the greatest\ndeclarative act of the God of all men. It is the manifesto all men are\nconcerned to read. It is the act of One with whom all men are already\nconnected in the closest way. And the result of our contemplation of it\nis, not that we admire, but that we are drawn, are attracted, into new\nrelations with Him whom that death reveals. This death moves and draws\nus as no other can, because here we get to the very heart of that which\nmost deeply concerns us. Here we learn what our God is and where we\nstand eternally. He who is nearest us of all, and in whom our life is\nbound up, reveals Himself; and seeing Him here full of ungrudging and\nmost reliable love, of tenderest and utterly self-sacrificing\ndevotedness to us, we cannot but give way to this central attraction,\nand with all other willing creatures be drawn into fullest intimacy and\nfirmest relations to the God of all.\n\nThe death of Christ, then, draws men chiefly because God here shows men\nHis sympathy, His love, His trustworthiness. What the sun is in the\nsolar system, Christ's death is in the moral world. The sun by its\nphysical attraction binds the several planets together and holds them\nwithin range of its light and heat. God, the central intelligence and\noriginal moral Being, draws to Himself and holds within reach of His\nlife-giving radiance all who are susceptible of moral influences; and He\ndoes so through the death of Christ. This is His supreme revelation.\nHere, if we may say so with reverence, God is seen at His best--not that\nat any time or in any action He is different, but here He is _seen_ to\nbe the God of love He ever is. Nothing is better than self-sacrifice:\nthat is the highest point a moral nature can touch. And God, by the\nsacrifice which is rendered visible on the cross, gives to the moral\nworld a real, actual, immovable centre, round which moral natures will\nmore and more gather, and which will hold them together in self-effacing\nunity.\n\nTo complete the idea of the attractiveness of the Cross, it must further\nbe kept in view that this particular form of the manifestation of the\nDivine love was adapted to the needs of those to whom it was made. To\nsinners the love of God manifested itself in providing a sacrifice for\nsin. The death on the cross was not an irrelevant display, but was an\nact required for the removal of the most insuperable obstacles that lay\nin man's path. The sinner, believing that in the death of Christ his\nsins are atoned for, conceives hope in God and claims the Divine\ncompassion in his own behalf. To the penitent the Cross is attractive as\nan open door to the prisoner, or the harbour-heads to the storm-tossed\nship.\n\nLet us not suppose, then, that we are not welcome to Christ. He desires\nto draw us to Himself and to form a connection with us. He understands\nour hesitations, our doubts of our own capacity for any steady and\nenthusiastic loyalty; but He knows also the power of truth and love, the\npower of His own person and of His own death to draw and fix the\nhesitating and wavering soul. And we shall find that as we strive to\nserve Christ in our daily life it is still His death that holds and\ndraws us. It is His death which gives us compunction in our times of\nfrivolity, or selfishness, or carnality, or rebellion, or unbelief. It\nis there Christ appears in His own most touching attitude and with His\nown most irresistible appeal. We cannot further wound One already so\nwounded in His desire to win us from evil. To strike One already thus\nnailed to the tree in helplessness and anguish, is more than the hardest\nheart can do. Our sin, our infidelity, our unmoved contemplation of His\nlove, our blind indifference to His purpose--these things wound Him more\nthan the spear and the scourge. To rid us of these things was His\npurpose in dying, and to see that His work is in vain and His sufferings\nunregarded and unfruitful is the deepest injury of all. It is not to the\nmere sentiment of pity He appeals: rather He says, \"Weep not for Me;\nweep for yourselves.\" It is to our power to recognise perfect goodness\nand to appreciate perfect love. He appeals to our power to see below the\nsurface of things, and through the outer shell of this world's life to\nthe Spirit of good that is at the root of all and that manifests itself\nin Him. Here is the true stay of the human soul: \"Come unto Me, all ye\nthat labour and are heavy laden\"; \"I am come a light into the world:\nwalk in the light.\"\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\n_RESULTS OF CHRIST'S MANIFESTATION._\n\n\n    \"But though He had done so many signs before them, yet they believed\n    not on Him: that the word of Isaiah the prophet might be fulfilled,\n    which he spake, Lord, who hath believed our report? and to whom hath\n    the arm of the Lord been revealed? For this cause they could not\n    believe, for that Isaiah said again, He hath blinded their eyes, and\n    He hardened their heart; lest they should see with their eyes, and\n    perceive with their heart, and should turn, and I should heal them.\n    These things said Isaiah, because he saw His glory; and he spake of\n    Him. Nevertheless even of the rulers many believed on Him; but\n    because of the Pharisees they did not confess it, lest they should\n    be put out of the synagogue: for they loved the glory of men more\n    than the glory of God. And Jesus cried and said, He that believeth\n    on Me, believeth not on Me, but on Him that sent Me. And he that\n    beholdeth Me beholdeth Him that sent Me. I am come a light into the\n    world, that whosoever believeth on Me may not abide in the darkness.\n    And if any man hear My sayings, and keep them not, I judge him not:\n    for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. He that\n    rejecteth Me, and receiveth not My sayings, hath One that judgeth\n    him: the word that I spake, the same shall judge him in the last\n    day. For I spake not from Myself; but the Father which sent Me, He\n    hath given Me a commandment, what I should say, and what I should\n    speak. And I know that His commandment is life eternal: the things\n    therefore which I speak, even as the Father hath said unto Me, so I\n    speak.\"--JOHN xii. 37-50.\n\n\nIn this Gospel the death of Christ is viewed as the first step in His\nglorification. When He speaks of being \"lifted up,\" there is a double\nreference in the expression, a local and an ethical reference.[6] He is\nlifted up on the cross, but lifted up on it as His true throne and as\nthe necessary step towards His supremacy at God's right hand. It was,\nJohn tells us, with direct reference to the cross that Jesus now used\nthe words: \"I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me.\" The Jews,\nwho heard the words, perceived that, whatever else was contained in\nthem, intimation of His removal from earth was given. But, according to\nthe current Messianic expectation, the Christ \"abideth for ever,\" or at\nany rate for four hundred or a thousand years. How then could this\nPerson, who announced His immediate departure, be the Christ? The Old\nTestament gave them ground for supposing that the Messianic reign would\nbe lasting; but had they listened to our Lord's teaching they would have\nlearned that this reign was spiritual, and not in the form of an earthly\nkingdom with a visible sovereign.\n\nAccordingly, although they had recognised Jesus as the Messiah, they\nare again stumbled by this fresh declaration of His. They begin to fancy\nthat perhaps after all by calling Himself \"the Son of man\" He has not\nmeant exactly what they mean by the Messiah. From the form of their\nquestion it would seem that Jesus had used the designation \"the Son of\nman\" in intimating His departure; for they say, \"How sayest thou, The\nSon of man must be lifted up?\" Up to this time, therefore, they had\ntaken it for granted that by calling Himself the Son of man He claimed\nto be the Christ, but now they begin to doubt whether there may not be\ntwo persons signified by those titles.\n\nJesus furnishes them with no direct solution of their difficulty. He\nnever betrays any interest in these external identifications. The time\nfor discussing the relation of the Son of man to the Messiah is past.\nHis manifestation is closed. Enough light has been given. Conscience has\nbeen appealed to and discussion is no longer admissible. \"Ye have light:\nwalk in the light.\" The way to come to a settlement of all their doubts\nand hesitations is to follow Him. There is still time for that. \"Yet a\nlittle while is the light among you.\" But the time is short; there is\nnone to waste on idle questionings, none to spend on sophisticating\nconscience--time only for deciding as conscience bids.\n\nBy thus believing in the light they will themselves become \"children of\nlight.\" The \"children of light\" are those who live in it as their\nelement,--as \"the children of this world\" are those who wholly belong to\nthis world and find in it what is congenial; as \"the son of perdition\"\nis he who is identified with perdition. The children of light have\naccepted the revelation that is in Christ, and live in the \"day\" that\nthe Lord has made. Christ contains the truth for them--the truth which\npenetrates to their inmost thought and illuminates the darkest problems\nof life. In Christ they have seen that which determines their relation\nto God; and that being determined, all else that is of prime importance\nfinds a settlement. To know God and ourselves; to know God's nature and\npurpose, and our own capabilities and relation to God,--these constitute\nthe light we need for living by; and this light Christ gives. It was in\na dim, uncertain twilight, with feebly shining lanterns, the wisest and\nbest of men sought to make out the nature of God and His purposes\nregarding man; but in Christ God has made noonday around us.\n\nThey, therefore, that stood, or that stand, in His presence, and yet\nrecognise no light, must be asleep, or must turn away from an excess of\nlight that is disagreeable or inconvenient. If we are not the fuller of\nlife and joy the more truth we know, if we shrink from admitting the\nconsciousness of a present and holy God, and do not feel it to be the\nvery sunshine of life in which alone we thrive, we must be spiritually\nasleep or spiritually dead. And this cry of Christ is but another form\nof the cry that His Church has prolonged: \"Awake, thou that sleepest,\nand arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.\"\n\nThe \"little while\" of their enjoyment of the light was short indeed, for\nno sooner had He made an end of these sayings than He \"departed, and did\nhide Himself from them.\" He probably found retirement from the feverish,\ninconstant, questioning crowd with His friends in Bethany. At any rate\nthis removal of the light, while it meant darkness to those who had not\nreceived Him and who did not keep His words, could bring no darkness to\nHis own, who had received Him and the light in Him. Perhaps the best\ncomment on this is the memorable passage from _Comus_:\n\n    \"Virtue could see to do what virtue would\n    By her own radiant light, though sun and moon\n    Were in the great sea sunk.\n    He that has light within his own clear breast\n    May sit i' the centre and enjoy bright day;\n    But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts\n    Benighted walks under the midday sun,\n    Himself is his own dungeon.\"\n\nAnd now the writer of this Gospel, before entering upon the closing\nscenes, pauses and presents a summary of the results of all that has\nbeen hitherto related. First, he accounts for the unbelief of the Jews.\nIt could not fail to strike his readers as remarkable that, \"though He\nhad done so many miracles before the people, yet they believed not in\nHim.\" In this John sees nothing inexplicable, however sad and\nsignificant it may be. At first sight it is an astounding fact that the\nvery people who had been prepared to recognise and receive the Messiah\nshould not have believed in Him. Might not this to some minds be\nconvincing evidence that Jesus was not the Messiah? If the same God who\nsent Him forth had for centuries specially prepared a people to\nrecognise and receive Him when He came, was it possible that this people\nshould repudiate Him? Was it likely that such a result should be\nproduced or should be allowed? But John turns the point of this argument\nby showing that a precisely similar phenomenon had often appeared in the\nhistory of Israel. The old prophets had the very same complaint to make:\n\"Who hath believed our report? and to whom hath the arm of the Lord been\nrevealed?\" The people had habitually, as a people with individual\nexceptions, refused to listen to God's voice or to acknowledge His\npresence in prophet and providence.\n\nBesides, might it not very well be that the blindness and callousness of\nthe Jews in rejecting Jesus was the inevitable issue of a long process\nof hardening? If, in former periods of their history, they had proved\nthemselves unworthy of God's training and irresponsive to it, what else\ncould be expected than that they should reject the Messiah when He came?\nThis hardening and blinding process was the inevitable, natural result\nof their past conduct. But what nature does, God does; and therefore the\nEvangelist says \"they could not believe, because that Esaias said again,\nHe hath blinded their eyes, and hardened their heart; that they should\nnot see with their eyes, nor understand with their heart.\" The organ for\nperceiving spiritual truth was blinded, and their susceptibility to\nreligious and moral impressions had become callous and hardened and\nimpervious.\n\nAnd while this was no doubt true of the people as a whole, still there\nwere not a few individuals who eagerly responded to this last message\nfrom God. In the most unlikely quarters, and in circumstances calculated\nto counteract the influence of spiritual forces, some were convinced.\n\"Even among the chief rulers many believed on Him.\" This belief,\nhowever, did not tell upon the mass, because, through fear of\nexcommunication, those who were convinced dared not utter their\nconviction. \"They loved the praise of men more than the praise of God.\"\nThey allowed their relations to men to determine their relation to God.\nMen were more real to them than God. The praise of men came home to\ntheir hearts with a sensible relish that the praise of God could not\nrival. They reaped what they had sown; they had sought the esteem of\nmen, and now they were unable to find their strength in God's approval.\nThe glory which consisted in following the lowly and outcast Jesus, the\nglory of fellowship with God, was quite eclipsed by the glory of living\nin the eye of the people as wise and estimable persons.\n\nIn the last paragraph of the chapter John gives a summary of the claims\nand message of Jesus. He has told us (ver. 36) that Jesus had departed\nfrom public view and had hidden Himself, and he mentions no return to\npublicity. It is therefore probable that in these remaining verses, and\nbefore he turns to a somewhat different aspect of Christ's ministry, he\ngives in rapid and brief retrospect the sum of what Jesus had advanced\nas His claim. He introduces this paragraph, indeed, with the words,\n\"Jesus cried and said\"; but as neither time nor place is mentioned, it\nis quite likely that no special time or place is supposed; and in point\nof fact each detail adduced in these verses can be paralleled from some\npreviously recorded utterance of Jesus.\n\nFirst, then, as everywhere in the Gospel, so here, He claims to be the\nrepresentative of God in so close and perfect a manner that \"he that\nbelieveth on Me, believeth not on Me, but on Him that sent Me. And he\nthat seeth Me, seeth Him that sent Me.\" No belief terminates in Christ\nHimself: to believe in Him is to believe in God, because all that He is\nand does proceeds from God and leads to God. The whole purpose of\nChrist's manifestation was to reveal God. He did not wish to arrest\nthought upon Himself, but through Himself to guide thought to Him whom\nHe revealed. He was sustained by the Father, and all He said and did\nwas of the Father's inspiration. Whoever, therefore, \"saw\" or\nunderstood Him \"saw\" the Father; and whoever believed in Him believed in\nthe Father.\n\nSecond, as regards men, He is \"come a light into the world.\" Naturally\nthere is in the world no sufficient light. Men feel that they are in\ndarkness. They feel the darkness all the more appalling and depressing\nthe more developed their own human nature is. \"More light\" has been the\ncry from the beginning. What are we? where are we? whence are we?\nwhither are we going? what is there above and beyond this world? These\nquestions are echoed back from an unanswering void, until Christ comes\nand gives the answer. Since He came men have felt that they did not any\nlonger walk in darkness. They see where they are going, and they see why\nthey should go.\n\nAnd if it be asked, as among the Jews it certainly must have been asked,\nwhy, if Jesus is the Messiah, does He not punish men for rejecting Him?\nthe answer is, \"I came not to judge the world, but to save the world.\"\nJudgment, indeed, necessarily results from His coming. Men are divided\nby His coming. \"The words that I have spoken, the same shall judge men\nin the last day.\" The offer of God, the offer of righteousness, is that\nwhich judges men. Why are they still dead, when life has been offered?\nThis is the condemnation. \"The commandment of the Father is life\neverlasting.\" This is the sum of the message of God to men in Christ;\nthis is \"the commandment\" which the Father has given Me; this is\nChrist's commission: to bring God in the fulness of His grace and love\nand life-giving power within men's reach. It is to give life eternal to\nmen that God has come to them in Christ. To refuse that life is their\ncondemnation.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[6] See iii. 14.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\n_THE FOOT-WASHING._\n\n\n\"Now before the feast of the Passover, Jesus knowing that His hour was\ncome that He should depart out of this world unto the Father, having\nloved His own which were in the world, He loved them unto the end. And\nduring supper, the devil having already put into the heart of Judas\nIscariot, Simon's son, to betray Him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had\ngiven all things into His hands, and that He came forth from God, and\ngoeth unto God, riseth from supper, and layeth aside His garments; and\nHe took a towel, and girded Himself. Then He poureth water into the\nbasin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the\ntowel wherewith He was girded. So He cometh to Simon Peter. He saith\nunto Him, Lord, dost Thou wash my feet? Jesus answered and said unto\nhim, What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt understand\nhereafter. Peter saith unto Him, Thou shalt never wash my feet. Jesus\nanswered him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with Me. Simon Peter\nsaith unto Him, Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head.\nJesus saith to him, He that is bathed needeth not save to wash his feet,\nbut is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all. For He knew him\nthat should betray Him; therefore said He, Ye are not all clean. So when\nHe had washed their feet, and taken His garments, and sat down again, He\nsaid unto them, Know ye what I have done to you? Ye call Me, Master,\nand, Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, the Lord and the\nMaster, have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one another's feet.\nFor I have given you an example, that ye also should do as I have done\nto you. Verily, verily, I say unto you, A servant is not greater than\nhis lord; neither one that is sent greater than he that sent him. If ye\nknow these things, blessed are ye if ye do them.\"--JOHN xiii. 1-17.\n\n\nSt. John, having finished his account of the public manifestation of\nJesus, proceeds now to narrate the closing scenes, in which the\ndisclosures He made to \"His own\" form a chief part. That the transition\nmay be observed, attention is drawn to it. At earlier stages of our\nLord's ministry He has given as His reason for refraining from proposed\nlines of action that His hour was not come: now He \"knew that His hour\nwas come, that He should depart out of this world unto the Father.\" This\nindeed was the last evening of His life. Within twenty-four hours He was\nto be in the tomb. Yet according to this writer it was not the paschal\nsupper which our Lord now partook of with His disciples; it was \"before\nthe feast of the Passover.\" Jesus being Himself the Paschal Lamb was\nsacrificed on the day on which the Passover was eaten, and in this and\nthe following chapters we have an account of the preceding evening.\n\nIn order to account for what follows, the precise time is defined in the\nwords \"supper being served\"[7] or \"supper-time having arrived\"; not, as\nin the Authorised Version, \"supper being ended,\" which plainly was not\nthe case;[8] nor, as in the Revised Version, \"during supper.\" The\ndifficulty about washing the feet could not have arisen after or during\nsupper, but only as the guests entered and reclined at table. In\nPalestine, as in other countries of the same latitude, shoes were not\nuniversally worn, and were not worn at all within doors; and where some\nprotection to the foot was worn, it was commonly a mere sandal, a sole\ntied on with a thong. The upper part of the foot was thus left exposed,\nand necessarily became heated and dirty with the fine and scorching dust\nof the roads. Much discomfort was thus produced, and the first duty of a\nhost was to provide for its removal. A slave was ordered to remove the\nsandals and wash the feet.[9] And in order that this might be done, the\nguest either sat on the couch appointed for him at table, or reclined\nwith his feet protruding beyond the end of it, that the slave, coming\nround with the pitcher and basin,[10] might pour cool water gently over\nthem. So necessary to comfort was this attention that our Lord\nreproached the Pharisee who had invited Him to dinner with a breach of\ncourtesy because he had omitted it.\n\nOn ordinary occasions it is probable that the disciples would perform\nthis humble office by turns, where there was no slave to discharge it\nfor all. But this evening, when they gathered for the last supper, all\ntook their places at the table with a studied ignorance of the\nnecessity, a feigned unconsciousness that any such attention was\nrequired. As a matter of course, the pitcher of cool water, the basin,\nand the towel had been set as part of the requisite furnishing of the\nsupper chamber; but no one among the disciples betrayed the slightest\nconsciousness that he understood that any such custom existed. Why was\nthis? Because, as Luke tells us (xxii. 24), \"there had arisen among them\na contention, which of them is accounted to be the greatest.\" Beginning,\nperhaps, by discussing the prospects of their Master's kingdom, they had\npassed on to compare the importance of this or that faculty for\nforwarding the interests of the kingdom, and had ended by easily\nrecognised personal allusions and even the direct pitting of man against\nman. The assumption of superiority on the part of the sons of Zebedee\nand others was called in question, and it suddenly appeared how this\nassumption had galled the rest and rankled in their minds. That such a\ndiscussion should arise may be disappointing, but it was natural. All\nmen are jealous of their reputation, and crave that credit be given them\nfor their natural talent, their acquired skill, their professional\nstanding, their influence, or at any rate for their humility.\n\nHeated, then, and angry and full of resentment these men hustle into the\nsupper-room and seat themselves like so many sulky schoolboys. They\nstreamed into the room and doggedly took their places; and then came a\npause. For any one to wash the feet of the rest was to declare himself\nthe servant of all; and that was precisely what each one was resolved\nhe, for his part, would not do. No one of them had humour enough to see\nthe absurdity of the situation. No one of them was sensitive enough to\nbe ashamed of showing such a temper in Christ's presence. There they\nsat, looking at the table, looking at the ceiling, arranging their\ndress, each resolved upon this--that he would not be the man to own\nhimself servant of all.\n\nBut this unhealthy heat quite unfits them to listen to what their Lord\nhas to say to them that last evening. Occupied as they are, not with\nanxiety about Him nor with absorbing desire for the prosperity of His\nkingdom, but with selfish ambitions that separate them alike from Him\nand from one another, how can they receive what He has to say? But how\nis He to bring them into a state of mind in which they can listen wholly\nand devotedly to Him? How is He to quench their heated passions and stir\nwithin them humility and love? \"He riseth from the supper-table, and\nlaid aside His garments, and took a towel, and girded Himself. After\nthat He poureth water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples'\nfeet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith He was girded.\" Each\nseparate action is a fresh astonishment and a deeper shame to the\nbewildered and conscience-stricken disciples. \"Who is not able to\npicture the scene,--the faces of John and James and Peter; the intense\nsilence, in which each movement of Jesus was painfully audible; the\nfurtive watching of Him, as He rose, to see what He would do; the sudden\npang of self-reproach as they perceived what it meant; the bitter\nhumiliation and the burning shame?\"\n\nBut not only is the time noted, in order that we may perceive the\nrelevancy of the foot-washing, but the Evangelist steps aside from his\nusual custom and describes the mood of Jesus that we may more deeply\npenetrate into the significance of the action. Around this scene in the\nsupper-chamber St. John sets lights which permit us to see its various\nbeauty and grace. And first of all he would have us notice what seems\nchiefly to have struck himself as from time to time he reflected on this\nlast evening--that Jesus, even in these last hours, was wholly possessed\nand governed by love. Although He knew \"that His hour had come, that He\nshould depart out of this world unto the Father, yet having loved His\nown which were in the world He loved them unto the end.\" Already the\ndeep darkness of the coming night was touching the spirit of Jesus with\nits shadow. Already the pain of the betrayal, the lonely desolation of\ndesertion by His friends, the defenceless exposure to fierce, unjust,\nruthless men, the untried misery of death and dissolution, the critical\ntrial of His cause and of all the labour of His life, these and many\nanxieties that cannot be imagined, were pouring in upon His spirit, wave\nupon wave. If ever man might have been excused for absorption in His own\naffairs Jesus was then that man. On the edge of what He knew to be the\ncritical passage in the world's history, what had He to do attending to\nthe comfort and adjusting the silly differences of a few unworthy men?\nWith the weight of a world on His arm, was He to have His hands free for\nsuch a trifling attention as this? With His whole soul pressed with the\nheaviest burden ever laid on man, was it to be expected He should turn\naside at such a call?\n\nBut His love made it seem no turning aside at all. His love had made Him\nwholly theirs, and though standing on the brink of death He was\ndisengaged to do them the slightest service. His love was love, devoted,\nenduring, constant. He had loved them, and He loved them still. It was\ntheir condition which had brought Him into the world, and His love for\nthem was that which would carry Him through all that was before Him. The\nvery fact that they showed themselves still so jealous and childish, so\nunfit to cope with the world, drew out His affection towards them. He\nwas departing from the world and they were remaining in it, exposed to\nall its opposition and destined to bear the brunt of hostility directed\nagainst Him--how then can He but pity and strengthen them? Nothing is\nmore touching on a death-bed than to see the sufferer hiding and making\nlight of his own pain, and turning the attention of those around him\naway from him to themselves, and making arrangements, not for his own\nrelief, but for the future comfort of others. This which has often\ndimmed with tears the eyes of the bystanders struck John when he saw his\nMaster ministering to the wants of His disciples, although He knew that\nHis own hour had come.\n\nAnother side-light which serves to bring out the full significance of\nthis action is Jesus' consciousness of His own dignity. \"Jesus, knowing\nthat the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He came\nforth from God, and goeth unto God,\" riseth from supper, and took a\ntowel and girded Himself. It was not in forgetfulness of His Divine\norigin, but in full consciousness of it, He discharged this menial\nfunction. As He had divested Himself of the \"form of God\" at the first,\nstripping Himself of the outward glory attendant on recognised Divinity,\nand had taken upon Him the form of a servant, so now He \"laid aside His\ngarments and girded Himself,\" assuming the guise of a household slave.\nFor a fisherman to pour water over a fisherman's feet was no great\ncondescension; but that He, in whose hands are all human affairs and\nwhose nearest relation is the Father, should thus condescend is of\nunparalleled significance. It is this kind of action that is suitable to\nOne whose consciousness is Divine. Not only does the dignity of Jesus\nvastly augment the beauty of the action, but it sheds new light on the\nDivine character.\n\nStill another circumstance which seemed to John to accentuate the grace\nof the foot-washing was this--that Judas was among the guests, and that\n\"the devil had now put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to\nbetray him.\" The idea had at last formed itself in Judas' mind that the\nbest use he could make of Jesus was to sell Him to His enemies. His\nhopes of gain in the Messianic kingdom were finally blighted, but he\nmight still make something out of Jesus and save himself from all\nimplication in a movement frowned upon by the authorities. He clearly\napprehended that all hopes of a temporal kingdom were gone. He had\nprobably not strength of mind enough to say candidly that he had joined\nthe company of disciples on a false understanding, and meant now quietly\nto return to his trading at Kerioth. If he could break up the whole\nmovement, he would be justified in his dissatisfaction, and would also\nbe held to be a useful servant of the nation. So he turns traitor. And\nJohn does not whitewash him, but plainly brands him as a traitor. Now,\nmuch may be forgiven a man; but treachery--what is to be done with it;\nwith the man who uses the knowledge only a friend can have, to betray\nyou to your enemies? Suppose Jesus had unmasked him to Peter and the\nrest, would he ever have left that room alive? Instead of unmasking him,\nJesus makes no difference between him and the others, kneels by his\ncouch, takes his feet in His hands, washes and gently dries them.\nHowever difficult it is to understand why Jesus chose Judas at the\nfirst, there can be no question that throughout His acquaintance with\nhim He had done all that was possible to win him. The kind of treatment\nJudas had received throughout may be inferred from the treatment he\nreceived now. Jesus knew him to be a man of a low type and impenitent;\nHe knew him to be at that very time out of harmony with the little\ncompany, false, plotting, meaning to save himself by bringing ruin on\nthe rest. Yet Jesus will not denounce him to the others. His sole weapon\nis love. Conquests which He cannot achieve with this He will not achieve\nat all. In the person of Judas the utmost of malignity the world can\nshow is present to Him, and He meets it with kindness. Well may Astie\nexclaim: \"Jesus at the feet of the traitor--what a picture! what lessons\nfor us!\"\n\nShame and astonishment shut the mouths of the disciples, and not a sound\nbroke the stillness of the room but the tinkle and plash of the water in\nthe basin as Jesus went from couch to couch. But the silence was broken\nwhen He came to Peter. The deep reverence which the disciples had\ncontracted for Jesus betrays itself in Peter's inability to suffer Him\nto touch his feet. Peter could not endure that the places of master and\nservant should thus be reversed. He feels that shrinking and revulsion\nwhich we feel when a delicate person or one much above us in station\nproceeds to do some service from which we ourselves would shrink as\nbeneath us. That Peter should have drawn up his feet, started up on the\ncouch, and exclaimed, \"Lord, do you actually propose to wash my feet!\"\nis to his credit, and just what we should have expected of a man who\nnever lacked generous impulses. Our Lord therefore assures him that his\nscruples will be removed, and that what he could not understand would be\nshortly explained to him. He treats Peter's scruples very much as He\ntreated the Baptist's when John hesitated about baptizing Him. Let Me,\nsays Jesus, do it now, and I will explain My reason when I have\nfinished the washing of you all. But this does not satisfy Peter. Out he\ncomes with one of his blunt and hasty speeches: \"Lord, Thou shalt never\nwash my feet!\" He knew better than Jesus, that is to say, what should be\ndone. Jesus was mistaken in supposing that any explanation could be\ngiven of it. Hasty, self-confident, knowing better than anybody else,\nPeter once again ran himself into grave fault. The first requirement in\na disciple is entire self-surrender. The others had meekly allowed Jesus\nto wash their feet, cut to the heart with shame as they were, and\nscarcely able to let their feet lie in His hands; but Peter must show\nhimself of a different mind. His first refusal was readily forgiven as a\ngenerous impulse; the second is an obstinate, proud, self-righteous\nutterance, and was forthwith met by the swift rebuke of Jesus: \"If I\nwash thee not, thou hast no part with Me.\"\n\nSuperficially, these words might have been understood as intimating to\nPeter that, if he wished to partake of the feast prepared, he must allow\nJesus to wash his feet. Unless he was prepared to leave the room and\nreckon himself an outcast from that company, he must submit to the\nfeet-washing which his friends and fellow-guests had submitted to. There\nwas that in the tone of our Lord which awakened Peter to see how great\nand painful a rupture this would be. He almost hears in the words a\nsentence of expulsion pronounced on himself; and as rapidly as he had\nwithdrawn from the touch of Christ, so rapidly does he now run to the\nopposite extreme and offer his whole body to be washed--\"not my feet\nonly, but my hands and my head.\" If this washing means that we are Thy\nfriends and partners, let me be all washed, for every bit of me is\nThine. Here again Peter was swayed by blind impulse, and here again he\nerred. If he could only have been quiet! If he could only have held his\ntongue! If only he could have allowed his Lord to manage without his\ninterference and suggestion at every point! But this was precisely what\nPeter had as yet not learned to do. In after-years he was to learn\nmeekness; he was to learn to submit while others bound him and carried\nhim whither they would; but as yet that was impossible to him. His\nLord's plan is never good enough for him; Jesus is never exactly right.\nWhat He proposes must always be eked out by Peter's superior wisdom.\nWhat gusts of shame must have stormed through Peter's soul when he\nlooked back on this scene! Yet it concerns us rather to admire than to\ncondemn Peter's fervour. How welcome to our Lord as He passed from the\ncold and treacherous heart of Judas must this burst of enthusiastic\ndevotion have been! \"Lord, if washing be any symbol of my being Thine,\nwash hands and head as well as feet.\"\n\nJesus throws a new light upon His action in His reply: \"He that is\nwashed, needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit: and\nye are clean, but not all.\" The words would have more readily disclosed\nChrist's meaning had they been literally rendered: He that has bathed\nneedeth not save to wash his feet. The daily use of the bath rendered it\nneedless to wash more than the feet, which were soiled with walking from\nthe bath to the supper-chamber. But that Christ had in view as He washed\nthe disciples' feet something more than the mere bodily cleansing and\ncomfort is plain from His remark that they were not all clean. All had\nenjoyed the feet-washing, but all were not clean. The feet of Judas were\nas clean as the feet of John or Peter, but his heart was foul. And what\nChrist intended when He girt Himself with the towel and took up the\npitcher was not merely to wash the soil from their feet, but to wash\nfrom their hearts the hard and proud feelings which were so uncongenial\nto that night of communion and so threatening to His cause. Far more\nneedful to their happiness at the feast than the comfort of cool and\nclean feet was their restored affection and esteem for one another, and\nthat humility that takes the lowest place. Jesus could very well have\neaten with men who were unwashed; but He could not eat with men hating\none another, glaring fiercely across the table, declining to answer or\nto pass what they were asked for, showing in every way malice and\nbitterness of spirit. He knew that at bottom they were good men; He knew\nthat with one exception they loved Him and one another; He knew that as\na whole they were clean, and that this vicious temper in which they at\npresent entered the room was but the soil contracted for the hour. But\nnone the less must it be washed off. _And He did effectually wash it off\nby washing their feet._ For was there a man among them who, when he saw\nhis Lord and Master stooping at his couch-foot, would not most gladly\nhave changed places with Him? Was there one of them who was not softened\nand broken down by the action of the Lord? Is it not certain that shame\nmust have cast out pride from every heart; that the feet would be very\nlittle thought of, but that the change of feeling would be marked and\nobvious? From a group of angry, proud, insolent, implacable, resentful\nmen, they were in five minutes changed into a company of humbled, meek,\nloving disciples of the Lord, each thinking hardly of himself and\nesteeming others better. They were effectually cleansed from the stain\nthey had contracted, and could enter on the enjoyment of the Last\nSupper with pure conscience, with restored and increased affection for\none another, and with deepened adoration for the marvellous wisdom and\nall-accomplishing grace of their Master.\n\nJesus, then, does not mistake present defilement for habitual impurity,\nnor partial stain for total uncleanness. He knows whom He has chosen. He\nunderstands the difference between deep-seated alienation of spirit and\nthe passing mood which for the hour disturbs friendship. He\ndiscriminates between Judas and Peter: between the man who has not been\nin the bath, and the man whose feet are soiled in walking from it;\nbetween him who is at heart unmoved and unimpressed by His love, and him\nwho has for a space fallen from the consciousness of it. He does not\nsuppose that because we have sinned this morning we have no real root of\ngrace in us. He knows the heart we bear Him; and if just at present\nunworthy feelings prevail, He does not misunderstand as men may, and\nstraightway dismiss us from His company. He recognises that our feet\nneed washing, that our present stain must be removed, but not on this\naccount does He think we need to be all washed and have never been right\nin heart towards Him.\n\nThese present stains, then, Christ seeks to remove, that our fellowship\nwith Him may be unembarrassed; and that our heart, restored to humility\nand tenderness, may be in a state to receive the blessing He would\nbestow. It is not enough to be once forgiven, to begin the day \"clean\nevery whit.\" No sooner do we take a step in the life of the day than our\nfootfall raises a little puff of dust which does not settle without\nsullying us. Our temper is ruffled, and words fall from our lips that\ninjure and exasperate. In one way or other stain attaches to our\nconscience, and we are moved away from cordial and open fellowship with\nChrist. All this happens to those who are at heart as truly Christ's\nfriends as those first disciples. But we must have these stains washed\naway even as they had. Humbly we must own them, and humbly accept their\nforgiveness and rejoice in their removal. As these men had with shame to\nlay their feet in Christ's hands, so must we. As His hands had to come\nin contact with the soiled feet of the disciples, so has His moral\nnature to come in contact with the sins from which He cleanses us. His\nheart is purer than were His hands, and He shrinks more from contact\nwith moral than with physical pollution; and yet without ceasing we\nbring Him into contact with such pollution. When we consider what those\nstains actually are from which we must ask Christ to wash us, we feel\ntempted to exclaim with Peter, \"Lord, Thou shalt never wash my feet!\" As\nthese men must have shivered with shame through all their nature, so do\nwe when we see Christ stoop before us to wash away once again the\ndefilement we have contracted; when we lay our feet soiled with the miry\nand dusty ways of life in His sacred hands; when we see the\nuncomplaining, unreproachful grace with which He performs for us this\nlowly and painful office. But only thus are we prepared for communion\nwith Him and with one another. Only by admitting that we need cleansing,\nand by humbly allowing Him to cleanse us, are we brought into true\nfellowship with Him. With the humble and contrite spirit which has\nthrown down all barriers of pride and freely admits His love and\nrejoices in His holiness does He abide. Whoso sits down at Christ's\ntable must sit down clean; he may not have come clean, even as those\nfirst guests were not clean, but he must allow Christ to cleanse him,\nmust honestly suffer Christ to remove from his heart, from his desire\nand purpose, all that He counts defiling.\n\nBut our Lord was not content to let His action speak for itself; He\nexpressly explains (vv. 12-17) the meaning of what He had now done. He\nmeant that they should learn to wash one another's feet, to be humble\nand ready to be of service to one another even when to serve seemed to\ncompromise their dignity.[11] No disciple of Christ need go far to find\nfeet that need washing, feet that are stained or bleeding with the hard\nways that have been trodden. To recover men from the difficulties into\nwhich sin or misfortune has brought them--to wipe off some of the soil\nfrom men's lives--to make them purer, sweeter, readier to listen to\nChrist, even unostentatiously to do the small services which each hour\ncalls for--is to follow Him who girt Himself with the slave's apron. As\noften as we thus condescend we become like Christ. By putting Himself in\nthe servant's place, our Lord has consecrated all service. The disciple\nwho next washed the feet of the rest would feel that he was representing\nChrist, and would suggest to the minds of the others the action of their\nLord; and as often as we lay aside the conventional dignity in which we\nare clad, and gird ourselves to do what others despise, we feel that we\nare doing what Christ would do, and are truly representing Him.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[7] Compare Mark vi. 2, =genomenou sabbatou=; and the Latin \"posita\nmensa.\"\n\n[8] See ver. 2.\n\n[9] =hypolyete, paides, kai aponizete=.\n\n[10] The \"tusht\" and \"ibriek\" of modern Palestine.\n\n[11] For the formal Foot-washing by the Lord High Almoner, the Pope, or\nother officials, see Augustine's _Letters_ LV.; Herzog art.\n_Fusswaschung_; Smith's _Dict. of Christian Antiq._ art. _Maundy\nThursday_.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\n_JUDAS._\n\n\n    \"I speak not of you all: I know whom I have chosen: but that the\n    Scripture may be fulfilled, He that eateth My bread lifted up his\n    heel against Me. From henceforth I tell you before it come to pass,\n    that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe that I am He. Verily,\n    verily, I say unto you, He that receiveth whomsoever I send\n    receiveth Me; and he that receiveth Me receiveth Him that sent Me.\n    When Jesus had thus said, He was troubled in the spirit, and\n    testified, and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you\n    shall betray Me. The disciples looked one on another, doubting of\n    whom He spake. There was at the table reclining in Jesus' bosom one\n    of His disciples, whom Jesus loved. Simon Peter therefore beckoneth\n    to him, and saith unto him, Tell us who it is of whom He speaketh.\n    He leaning back, as he was, on Jesus' breast saith unto Him, Lord,\n    who is it? Jesus therefore answereth, He it is, for whom I shall dip\n    the sop, and give it to him. So when He had dipped the sop, He\n    taketh and giveth it to Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot. And after\n    the sop, then entered Satan into him. Jesus therefore saith unto\n    him, That thou doest, do quickly. Now no man at the table knew for\n    what intent He spake this unto him. For some thought, because Judas\n    had the bag, that Jesus said unto him, Buy what things we have need\n    of for the feast; or, that he should give something to the poor. He\n    then having received the sop went out straightway: and it was\n    night.\"--JOHN xiii. 18-30.\n\n\nWhen Jesus had washed the disciples' feet, apparently in dead silence\nsave for the interruption of Peter, He resumed those parts of His dress\nHe had laid aside, and reclined at the table already spread for the\nsupper. As the meal began, and while He was explaining the meaning of\nHis act and the lesson He desired them to draw from it, John, who lay\nnext Him at table, saw that His face did not wear the expression of\nfestal joy, nor even of untroubled composure, but was clouded with deep\nconcern and grief. The reason of this was immediately apparent: already,\nwhile washing Peter's feet, He had awakened the attention and excited\nthe consciences of the disciples by hinting that on some one of them at\nleast, if not on more, uncleansed guilt still lay, even though all\npartook in the symbolic washing. And now in His explanation of the\nfoot-washing He repeats this limitation and warning, and also points at\nthe precise nature of the guilt, though not yet singling out the guilty\nperson. \"I speak not of you all; I know whom I have chosen; I have not\nbeen deceived: but it was necessary that this part of God's purpose be\nfulfilled, and that this Scripture, 'He that eateth bread with Me, hath\nlifted up his heel against Me,' receive accomplishment in Me.\"\n\nIt was impossible that Jesus should undisturbedly eat out of the same\ndish with the man whom He knew to have already sold Him to the priests;\nit were unfair to the other disciples and a violence to His own feelings\nto allow such a man any longer to remain in their company. But our Lord\ndoes not name the traitor and denounce him; he singles him out and sends\nhim from the table on his hateful mission by a process that left every\nman at the table unaware on what errand he was despatched. In this\nprocess there were three steps. First of all, our Lord indicated that\namong the disciples there was a traitor. With dismay these true-hearted\nmen hear the firmly pronounced statement \"one of _you_ shall betray Me\"\n(ver. 21). All of them, as another Evangelist informs us, were exceeding\nsorrowful, and looked on one another in bewilderment; and unable to\ndetect the conscious look of guilt in the face of any of their\ncompanions, or to recall any circumstance which might fix even suspicion\non any of them, each, conscious of the deep, unfathomed capacity for\nevil in his own heart, can but frankly ask of the Master, \"Lord, is it\nI?\" It is a question that at once proves their consciousness of actual\ninnocence and possible guilt. It was a kindness in the Lord to give\nthese genuine men, who were so shortly to go through trial for His sake,\nan opportunity of discovering how much they loved Him and how closely\nknit their hearts had really become to Him. This question of theirs\nexpressed the deep pain and shame that the very thought of the\npossibility of their being false to Him gave them. They must at all\nhazards be cleared of this charge. And from this shock of the very idea\nof being untrue their hearts recoiled towards Him with an enthusiastic\ntenderness that made this moment possibly as moving a passage as any\nthat occurred that eventful night But there was one of them that did not\njoin in the question \"Lord, is it I?\"--else must not our Lord have\nbroken silence? The Twelve are still left in doubt, none noticing in the\neagerness of questioning who has not asked, each only glad to know he\nhimself is not charged.\n\nThe second step in the process is recorded in the 26th chapter of\nMatthew, where we read that, when the disciples asked \"Lord, is it I?\"\nJesus answered, \"He that dippeth his hand with Me in the dish, the same\nshall betray Me.\" It was a large company, and there were necessarily\nseveral dishes on the table, so that probably there were three others\nusing the same dish as our Lord: John we know was next Him; Peter was\nnear enough to John to make signs and whisper to him; Judas was also\nclose to Jesus, a position which he either always occupied as treasurer\nand purveyor of the company, or into which he thrust himself this\nevening with the purpose of more effectually screening himself from\nsuspicion. The circle of suspicion is thus narrowed to the one or two\nwho were not only so intimate as to be eating at the same table, but as\nto be dipping in the same dish.\n\nThe third step in the process of discovery went on almost simultaneously\nwith this. The impatient Peter, who had himself so often unwittingly\ngiven offence to his Master, is resolved to find out definitely who is\npointed at, and yet dare not say to Christ \"Who is it?\" He beckons\ntherefore to John to ask Jesus privately, as he lay next to Jesus. John\nleans a little back towards Jesus and puts in a whisper the definite\nquestion \"Who is it?\" and Jesus in the ear of the beloved disciple\nwhispers the reply, \"He it is to whom I shall give a sop when I have\ndipped it.\" And when He had dipped the sop, He gave it to Judas\nIscariot. This reveals to John, but to no one else, who the traitor was,\nfor the giving of the sop was no more at that table than the handing of\na plate or the offer of any article of food is at any table. John alone\nknew the significance of it. But Judas had already taken alarm at the\nnarrowing of the circle of suspicion, and had possibly for the moment\nceased dipping in the same dish with Jesus, lest he should be identified\nwith the traitor. Jesus therefore dips for him and offers him the sop\nwhich he will not himself take, and the look that accompanies the act,\nas well as the act itself, shows Judas that his treachery is discovered.\nHe therefore mechanically takes up in a somewhat colder form the\nquestion of the rest, and says, \"Master, is it I?\" His fear subdues his\nvoice to a whisper, heard only by John and the Lord; and the answer,\n\"Thou hast said. That thou doest, do quickly,\" is equally unobserved by\nthe rest. Judas need fear no violence at their hands; John alone knows\nthe meaning of his abrupt rising and hurrying from the room, and John\nsees that Jesus wishes him to go unobserved. The rest, therefore,\nthought only that Judas was going out to make some final purchases that\nhad been forgotten, or to care for the poor in this season of festivity.\nBut John saw differently. \"The traitor,\" he says, \"went immediately out;\nand it was night.\" As his ill-omened, stealthy figure glided from the\nchamber, the sudden night of the Eastern twilightless sunset had fallen\non the company; sadness, silence, and gloom fell upon John's spirit; the\nhour of darkness had at length fallen in the very midst of this quiet\nfeast.\n\nThis sin of Judas presents us with one of the most perplexed problems\nof life and character that the strange circumstances of this world have\never produced. Let us first of all look at the connection of this\nbetrayal with the life of Christ, and then consider the phase of\ncharacter exhibited in Judas. In connection with the life of Christ the\ndifficulty is to understand why the death of Christ was to be brought\nabout in this particular way of treachery among His own followers. It\nmay be said that it came to pass \"that Scripture might be fulfilled,\"\nthat this special prediction in the 41st Psalm might be fulfilled. But\nwhy was such a prediction made? It was of course the event which\ndetermined the prediction, not the prediction which determined the\nevent. Was it, then, an accident that Jesus should be handed over to the\nauthorities in this particular way? Or was there any significance in it,\nthat justifies its being made so prominent in the narrative? Certainly\nif our Lord was to be brought into contact with the most painful form of\nsin, He must have experience of treachery. He had known the sorrow that\ndeath brings to the survivors; He had known the pain and disappointment\nof being resisted by stupid, obstinate, bad-hearted men; but if He was\nto know the utmost of misery which man can inflict upon man, He must be\nbrought into contact with one who could accept His love, eat His bread,\npress His hand with assurance of fidelity, and then sell Him.\n\nWhen we endeavour to set before our minds a clear idea of the character\nof Judas, and to understand how such a character could be developed, we\nhave to acknowledge that we could desire a few more facts in order to\ncertify us of what we can now only conjecture. Obviously we must start\nfrom the idea that with extraordinary capacity for wickedness Judas had\nalso more than ordinary leanings to what was good. He was an Apostle,\nand had, we must suppose, been called to that office by Christ under the\nimpression that he possessed gifts which would make him very serviceable\nto the Christian community. He was himself so impressed with Christ as\nto follow Him: making those pecuniary sacrifices of which Peter\nboastfully spoke, and which must have been specially sore to Judas. It\nis possible, indeed, that he may have followed Jesus as a speculation,\nhoping to receive wealth and honour in the new kingdom; but this motive\nmingled with the attachment to Christ's person which all the Apostles\nhad, and mingles in a different form with the discipleship of all\nChristians. With this motive, therefore, there probably mingled in the\nmind of Judas a desire to be with One who could shield him from evil\ninfluences; he judged that with Jesus he would find continual aid\nagainst his weaker nature. Possibly he wished by one bold abandonment of\nthe world to get rid for ever of his covetousness. That Judas was\ntrusted by the other Apostles is manifest from the fact that to him they\ncommitted their common fund,--not to John, whose dreamy and abstracted\nnature ill fitted him for minute practical affairs; not to Peter, whose\nimpulsive nature might often have landed the little company in\ndifficulties; not even to Matthew, accustomed as he was to accounts; but\nto Judas, who had the economical habits, the aptitude for finance, the\nlove of bargaining, which regularly go hand in hand with the love of\nmoney. This practical faculty for finance and for affairs generally\nmight, if rightly guided, have become a most serviceable element in the\nApostolate, and might have enabled Judas more successfully than any\nother of the Apostles to mediate between the Church and the world. That\nJudas in all other respects conducted himself circumspectly is proved by\nthe fact that, though other Apostles incurred the displeasure of Christ\nand were rebuked by Him, Judas committed no glaring fault till this last\nweek. Even to the end he was unsuspected by his fellow-Apostles; and to\nthe end he had an active conscience. His last act, were it not so awful,\nwould inspire us with something like respect for him: he is overwhelmed\nwith remorse and shame; his sense of guilt is stronger even than the\nlove of money that had hitherto been his strongest passion: he judges\nhimself fairly, sees what he has become, and goes to his own place;\nrecognises as not every man does recognise what is his fit habitation,\nand goes to it.\n\nBut this man, with his good impulses, his resolute will, his enlightened\nconscience, his favouring circumstances, his frequent feelings of\naffection towards Christ and desire to serve Him, committed a crime so\nunparalleled in wickedness that men practically make very little attempt\nto estimate it or measure it with sins of their own. Commonly we think\nof it as a special, exceptional wickedness--not so much the natural\nproduct of a heart like our own and what may be reproduced by ourselves,\nas the work of Satan using a man as his scarcely responsible tool to\neffect a purpose which needs never again to be effected.\n\nIf we ask what precisely it was in the crime of Judas that makes us so\nabhor it, manifestly its most hateful ingredient was its treachery. \"It\nwas not an enemy that reproached me; then I could have borne it; but it\nwas thou, a man mine equal, my guide, and mine acquaintance.\" Caesar\ndefended himself till the dagger of a friend pierced him; then in\nindignant grief he covered his head with his mantle and accepted his\nfate. You can forgive the open blow of a declared enemy against whom you\nare on your guard; but the man that lives with you on terms of the\ngreatest intimacy for years, so that he learns your ways and habits, the\nstate of your affairs and your past history--the man whom you so confide\nin and like that you communicate to him freely much that you keep hidden\nfrom others, and who, while still professing friendship, uses the\ninformation he has gained to blacken your character and ruin your peace,\nto injure your family or damage your business,--this man, you know, has\nmuch to repent of. So one can forgive the Pharisees who knew not what\nthey did, and were throughout the declared opponents of Christ; but\nJudas attached himself to Christ, knew that His life was one of unmixed\nbenevolence, was conscious that Christ would have given up anything to\nserve him, felt moved and proud from time to time by the fact that\nChrist loved him, and yet at the last used all these privileges of\nfriendship against his Friend.\n\nAnd Judas did not scruple to use this power that only the love of Jesus\ncould have given him, to betray Him to men whom he knew to be\nunscrupulous and resolved to destroy Him. The garden where the Lord\nprayed for His enemies was not sacred to Judas; the cheek that a seraph\nwould blush to kiss, and to salute which was the beginning of joy\neternal to the devout disciple, was mere common clay to this man into\nwhom Satan had entered. The crime of Judas is invested with a horror\naltogether its own by the fact that this Person whom he betrayed was the\nSon of God and the Saviour of the world, the Best-beloved of God and\nevery man's Friend. The greatest blessing that God had ever given to\nearth Judas was forward to reject: not altogether unaware of the majesty\nof Christ, Judas presumed to use Him in a little money-making scheme of\nhis own.\n\nThe best use that Judas could think of putting Jesus to, the best use he\ncould make of _Him_ whom all angels worship, was to sell Him for L5.[12]\nHe could get nothing more out of Christ than that. After three years'\nacquaintanceship and observation of the various ways in which Christ\ncould bless people, this was all he could get from Him. And there are\nstill such men: men for whom there is nothing in Christ; men who can\nfind nothing in Him that they sincerely care for; men who, though\ncalling themselves His followers, would, if truth were told, be better\ncontent and feel they had more substantial profit if they could turn Him\ninto money.\n\nSo difficult is it to comprehend how any man who had lived as the friend\nof Jesus could find it in his heart to betray Him, should resist the\ntouching expressions of love that were shown him, and brave the awful\nwarning uttered at the supper-table--so difficult is it to suppose that\nany man, however infatuated, would so deliberately sell his soul for L5,\nthat a theory has been started to explain the crime by mitigating its\nguilt. It has been supposed that when he delivered up his Master into\nthe hands of the chief priests he expected that our Lord would save\nHimself by a miracle. He knew that Jesus meant to proclaim a kingdom; he\nhad been waiting for three years now, eagerly expecting that this\nproclamation and its accompanying gains would arrive. Yet he feared the\nopportunity was once more passing: Jesus had been brought into the city\nin triumph, but seemed indisposed to make use of this popular\nexcitement for any temporal advantage. Judas was weary of this\ninactivity: might he not himself bring matters to a crisis by giving\nJesus into the hands of His enemies, and thus forcing Him to reveal His\nreal power and assert by miracle His kingship? In corroboration of this\ntheory, it is said that it is certain that Judas did not expect Jesus to\nbe condemned; for when he saw that he was condemned he repented of his\nact.\n\nThis seems a shallow view to take of Judas' remorse, and a feeble ground\non which to build such a theory. A crime seems one thing before, another\nafter, its commission. The murderer expects and wishes to kill his\nvictim, but how often is he seized with an agony of remorse as soon as\nthe blow is struck? Before we sin, it is the gain we see; after we sin,\nthe guilt. It is impossible to construe the act of Judas into a mistaken\nact of friendship or impatience; the terms in which he is spoken of in\nScripture forbid this idea; and one cannot suppose that a keen-sighted\nman like Judas could expect that, even supposing he did force our Lord\nto proclaim Himself, his own share in the business would be rewarded. He\ncould not suppose this after the terrible denunciation and explicit\nstatement that still rang in his ears when he hanged himself: \"The Son\nof man goeth as it is written of Him: but woe unto that man by whom the\nSon of man is betrayed! it had been good for that man if he had not been\nborn.\"\n\nWe must then abide by the more commonplace view of this crime. The only\nmitigating circumstance that can be admitted is, that possibly among the\nmany perplexed thoughts entertained by Judas he may have supposed that\nJesus would be acquitted, or would at least not be punished with death.\nStill, this being admitted, the fact remains that he cared so little\nfor the love of Christ, and regarded so little the good He was doing,\nand had so little common honour in him, that he sold his Master to His\ndeadly enemies. And this monstrous wickedness is to be accounted for\nmainly by his love of money. Naturally covetous, he fed his evil\ndisposition during those years he carried the bag for the disciples:\nwhile the rest are taken up with more spiritual matters, he gives more\nof his thought than is needful to the matter of collecting as much as\npossible; he counts it his special province to protect himself and the\nothers against all \"the probable emergencies and changes of life.\" This\nhe does, regardless of the frequent admonitions he hears from the Lord\naddressed to others; and as he finds excuses for his own avarice in the\nface of these admonitions, and hardens himself against the better\nimpulses that are stirred within him by the words and presence of\nChrist, his covetousness roots itself deeper and deeper in his soul. Add\nto this, that now he was a disappointed man: the other disciples,\nfinding that the kingdom of Christ was to be spiritual, were pure and\nhigh-minded enough to see that their disappointment was their great\ngain. The love of Christ had transformed them, and to be like Him was\nenough for them; but Judas still clung to the idea of earthly grandeur\nand wealth, and finding Christ was not to give him these he was soured\nand embittered. He saw that now, since that scene at Bethany the week\nbefore, his covetousness and earthliness would be resisted and would\nalso betray him. He felt that he could no longer endure this\npoverty-stricken life, and had some rage at himself and at Christ that\nhe had been inveigled into it by what he might be pleased to say to\nhimself were false pretences. His self-restraint, he felt, was breaking\ndown; his covetousness was getting the better of him; he felt that he\nmust break with Christ and His followers; but in doing so he would at\nonce win what he had lost during these years of poverty, and also\nrevenge himself on those who had kept him poor, and finally would\njustify his own conduct in deserting this society by exploding it and\ncausing it to cease from among men.\n\nThe sin of Judas, then, first of all teaches us the great power and\ndanger of the love of money. The mere thirty pieces of silver would not\nhave been enough to tempt Judas to commit so dastardly and black a\ncrime; but he was now an embittered and desperate man, and he had become\nso by allowing money to be all in all to him for these last years of his\nlife. For the danger of this passion consists very much in this--that it\ninfallibly eats out of the soul every generous emotion and high aim: it\nis the failing of a sordid nature--a little, mean, earthly nature--a\nfailing which, like all others, may be extirpated through God's grace,\nbut which is notoriously difficult to extirpate, and which notoriously\nis accompanied by or produces other features of character which are\namong the most repulsive one meets. The love of money is also dangerous,\nbecause it can be so easily gratified; all that we do in the world day\nby day is in the case of most of us connected with money, so that we\nhave continual and not only occasional opportunity of sinning if we be\ninclined to the sin. Other passions are appealed to only now and again,\nbut our employments touch this passion at all points. It leaves no long\nintervals, as other passions do, for repentance and amendment; but\nsteadily, constantly, little by little, increases in force. Judas had\nhis fingers in the bag all day; it was under his pillow and he dreamt\nupon it all night; and it was this that accelerated his ruin. And by\nthis constant appeal it is sure to succeed at one time or other, if we\nbe open to it. Judas could not suppose that his quiet\nself-aggrandisement by pilfering little coins from the bag could ever\nbring him to commit such a crime against his Lord: so may every covetous\nperson fancy that his sin is one that is his own business, and will not\ndamage his religious profession and ruin his soul as some wild lust or\nreckless infidelity would do. But Judas and those who sin with him in\nmaking continually little gains to which they have no right are wrong in\nsupposing their sin is less dangerous; and for this reason--that\ncovetousness is more a sin of the _will_ than sins of the flesh or of a\npassionate nature; there is more choice in it; it is more the sin of the\nwhole man unresisting; and therefore it, above all others, is called\nidolatry--it, above all others, proves that the man is in his heart\nchoosing the world and not God. Therefore it is that even our Lord\nHimself spoke almost despairingly, certainly quite differently, of\ncovetous men in comparison with other sinners.\n\nDisappointment in Christ is not an unknown thing among ourselves. Men\nstill profess to be Christians who are so only in the degree in which\nJudas was. They expect _some_ good from Christ, but not all. They attach\nthemselves to Christ in a loose, conventional way, expecting that,\nthough they are Christians, they need not lose anything by their\nChristianity, nor make any great efforts or sacrifices. They retain\ncommand of their own life, and are prepared to go with Christ only so\nfar as they find it agreeable or inviting. The eye of an observer may\nnot be able to distinguish them from Christ's true followers; but the\ndistinction is present and is radical. They are seeking to use Christ,\nand are not willing to be used by Him. They are not wholly and heartily\nHis, but merely seek to derive some influences from Him. The result is\nthat they one day find that, through all their religious profession and\napparent Christian life, their characteristic sin has actually been\ngaining strength. And finding this, they turn upon Christ with\ndisappointment and rage in their hearts, because they become aware that\nthey have lost both this world and the next--have lost many pleasures\nand gains they might have enjoyed, and yet have gained no spiritual\nattainment. They find that the reward of double-mindedness is the most\nabsolute perdition, that both Christ and the world, to be made anything\nof, require the whole man, and that he who tries to get the good of both\ngets the good of neither. And when a man awakes to see that this is the\nresult of his Christian profession, there is no deadliness of hatred to\nwhich the bitter disappointment of his soul will not carry him. He has\nhimself been a dupe, and he calls Christ an impostor. He know himself to\nbe damned, and he says there is no salvation in Christ.\n\nBut to this disastrous issue _any_ cherished sin may also in its own way\nlead; for the more comprehensive lesson which this sin of Judas brings\nwith it is the rapidity of sin's growth and the enormous proportions it\nattains when the sinner is sinning against light, when he is in\ncircumstances conducive to holiness and still sins. To discover the\nwickedest of men, to see the utmost of human guilt, we must look, not\namong the heathen, but among those who know God; not among the\nprofligate, dissolute, abandoned classes of society, but among the\nApostles. The good that was in Judas led him to join Christ, and kept\nhim associated with Christ for some years; but the devil of\ncovetousness that was cast out for a while returned and brought with him\nseven devils worse than himself. There was everything in his position to\nwin him to unworldliness: the men he lived with cared not one whit for\ncomforts or anything that money could buy; but instead of catching their\nspirit he took advantage of their carelessness. He was in a public\nposition, liable to detection; but this, instead of making him honest\nperforce, made him only the more crafty and studiedly hypocritical. The\nsolemn warnings of Christ, so far from intimidating him, only made him\nmore skilful in evading all good influence, and made the road to hell\neasier. The position he enjoyed, and by which he might have been for\never enrolled among the foremost of mankind, one of the twelve\nfoundations of the eternal city, he so skilfully misused that the\ngreatest sinner feels glad that he has yet not been left to commit the\nsin of Judas. Had Judas not followed Christ he could never have attained\nthe pinnacle of infamy on which he now for ever stands. In all\nprobability he would have passed his days as a small trader with false\nweights in the little town of Kerioth, or, at the worst, might have\ndeveloped into an extortionous publican, and have passed into oblivion\nwith the thousands of unjust men who have died and been at last forced\nto let go the money that should long ago have belonged to others. Or had\nJudas followed Christ truly, then there lay before him the noblest of\nall lives, the most blessed of destinies. But he followed Christ and yet\ntook his sin with him: and thence his ruin.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[12] More exactly, L3 10 8, the legal value of a slave.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\n_JESUS ANNOUNCES HIS DEPARTURE._\n\n\n    \"When therefore he was gone out, Jesus saith, Now is the Son of man\n    glorified, and God is glorified in Him; and God shall glorify Him in\n    Himself, and straightway shall He glorify Him. Little children, yet\n    a little while I am with you. Ye shall seek Me: and as I said unto\n    the Jews, Whither I go, ye cannot come; so now I say unto you. A new\n    commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; even as I\n    have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men\n    know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one to another. Simon\n    Peter saith unto Him, Lord, whither goest Thou? Jesus answered,\n    Whither I go, thou canst not follow Me now; but thou shalt follow\n    afterwards. Peter saith unto Him, Lord, why cannot I follow Thee\n    even now? I will lay down my life for Thee. Jesus answereth, Wilt\n    thou lay down thy life for Me? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, The\n    cock shall not crow, till thou hast denied Me thrice. Let not your\n    heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in Me. In My\n    Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have\n    told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and\n    prepare a place for you, I come again, and will receive you unto\n    Myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. And whither I go, ye\n    know the way.\"--JOHN xiii. 31-xiv. 4.\n\n\nWhen Judas glided out of the supper-room on his terrible mission, a\nweight seemed to be lifted from the spirit of Jesus. The words which\nfell from Him, however, indicated that He not only felt the relief of\nbeing rid of a disturbing element in the company, but that He recognised\nthat a crisis in His own career had been reached and successfully passed\nthrough. \"Now is the Son of man glorified, and God is glorified in Him.\"\nIn sending Judas forth He had in point of fact delivered Himself to\ndeath. He had taken the step which cannot be withdrawn, and He is\nconscious of taking it in fulfilment of the will of the Father. The\nconflict in His own mind is revealed only by the decision of the\nvictory. No man in soundness of body and of mind can voluntarily give\nhimself to die without seeing clearly other possibilities, and without\nfeeling it to be a hard and painful thing to relinquish life. Jesus had\nmade up His mind. His death is the beginning of His glorification. In\nchoosing the cross He chooses the crown. \"The Son of man is glorified\"\nin His perfect self-sacrifice that wins all men to Him; and God is\nglorified in Him because this sacrifice is a tribute at once to the\njustice and the love of God. The Cross reveals God as nothing else\ndoes.\n\nNot only has this decision glorified the Son of man and God through Him\nand in Him, but as a consequence \"God will glorify\" the Son of man \"in\nHimself.\" He will lift Him to participation in the Divine glory. It was\nwell that the disciples should know that this would \"straightway\" result\nfrom all that their Master was now to pass through; that the perfect\nsympathy with the Father's will which He was now showing would be\nrewarded by permanent participation in the authority of God. It must be\nthrough such an one as their Lord, who is absolutely at one with God,\nthat God fulfils His purpose towards men. By this life and death of\nperfect obedience, of absolute devotedness to God and man, Christ\nnecessarily wins dominion over human affairs and exercises a determining\ninfluence on all that is to be. In all that Christ did upon earth God\nwas glorified; His holiness, His fatherly love were manifested to men:\nin all that God now does upon earth Christ will be glorified; the\nuniqueness and power of His life will become more manifest, the\nsupremacy of His Spirit be more and more apparent.\n\nThis glorification was not the far-off result of the impending\nsacrifice. It was to date from the present hour and to begin in the\nsacrifice. God will glorify Him \"straightway.\" \"Yet _a little while_\"\nwas He to be with His disciples. Therefore does He tenderly address\nthem, recognising their incompetence, their inability to stand alone, as\n\"little children\"; and in view of the exhibition of bad feeling, and\neven of treachery, which the Twelve had at that very hour given, His\ncommandment, \"Love one another,\" comes with a tenfold significance. I am\nleaving you, He says: put away, then, all heart-burnings and\njealousies; cling together; do not let quarrels and envyings divide\nyou. This was to be their safeguard when He left them and went where\nthey could not come. \"A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love\none another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this\nshall all men know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one to\nanother.\"\n\nThe commandment to love our neighbour as ourselves was no new\ncommandment. But to love \"as I have loved you\" was so new that its\npractice was enough to identify a man as a disciple of Christ. The\nmanner and the measure of the love that is possible and that is\ncommanded could not even be understood until Christ's love was revealed.\nBut probably what Jesus had even more directly in view was the love that\nwas to bind His followers together[13] and make them one solid body. It\nwas on their mutual attachment that the very existence of the Christian\nChurch depended; and this love of men to one another springing out of\nthe love of Christ for them, and because of their acknowledgment and\nlove of a common Lord, was a new thing in the world. The bond to Christ\nproved itself stronger than all other ties, and those who cherished a\ncommon love to Him were drawn to one another more closely than even to\nblood relations. In fact, Christ, by His love for men, has created a new\nbond, and that the strongest by which men can be bound to one another.\nAs the Christian Church is a new institution upon earth, so is the\nprinciple which forms it a new principle. The principle has, indeed, too\noften been hidden from sight, if not smothered, by the institution; too\nlittle has love been regarded as the one thing by which the disciple of\nChrist is to be recognised, the one note of the true Church. But that\nthis form of love was a new thing upon earth is apparent.[14]\n\nTenderly as Jesus made the announcement of His departure, it filled the\nminds of the disciples with consternation. Even the buoyant and hardy\nPeter felt for the moment staggered by the intelligence, and still more\nby the announcement that he was not able to accompany his Lord. He was\nassured that one day he should follow Him, but at present this was\nimpossible. This, Peter considered a reflection upon his courage and\nfidelity; and although his headlong self-confidence had only a few\nminutes before been so severely rebuked, he exclaims, \"Lord, why cannot\nI follow Thee now? I will lay down my life for Thy sake.\" This was the\ntrue expression of Peter's present feeling, and he was allowed in the\nend to give proof that these vehement words were not mere bluster. But\nas yet he had not at all apprehended the separateness of his Lord and\nthe uniqueness of His work. He did not know precisely what Jesus alluded\nto, but he thought a strong arm would not be out of place in any\nconflict that was coming. The offers which even true fidelity makes are\noften only additional hindrances to our Lord's purposes, and additional\nburdens for Him to bear. On Himself alone must He depend. No man can\ncounsel Him, and none can aid save by first receiving from Him His own\nspirit.\n\nPeter thus rebuked falls into unwonted silence, and takes no further\npart in the conversation. The rest, knowing that Peter has more courage\nthan any of them, fear that if he is thus to fall it cannot be hopeful\nfor themselves. They feel that if they are left without Jesus they have\nno strength to make head against the rulers, no skill in argument such\nas made Jesus victorious when assailed by the scribes, no popular\neloquence which might enable them to win the people. Eleven more\nhelpless men could not well be. \"Sheep without a shepherd\" was not too\nstrong an expression to depict their weakness and want of influence,\ntheir incompetence to effect anything, their inability even to keep\ntogether. Christ was their bond of union and the strength of each of\nthem. It was to be with Him that they had left all. And in forsaking\nall--father and mother, wife and children, home and kindred and\ncalling--they had found in Christ that hundredfold more even in this\nlife which He had promised. He had so won their hearts, there was about\nHim something so fascinating, that they felt no loss when they enjoyed\nHis presence, and feared no danger in which He was their leader. They\nhad perhaps not thought very definitely of their future; they felt so\nconfident in Jesus that they were content to let Him bring in His\nkingdom as He pleased; they were so charmed with the novelty of their\nlife as His disciples, with the great ideas that dropped from His lips,\nwith the wonderful works He did, with the new light He shed upon all the\npersonages and institutions of the world, that they were satisfied to\nleave their hope undefined. But all this satisfaction and secret\nassurance of hope depended on Christ. As yet He had not given to _them_\nanything which could enable them to make any mark upon the world. They\nwere still very ignorant, so that any lawyer could entangle and puzzle\nthem. They had not received from Christ any influential position in\nsociety from which they could sway men. There were no great visible\ninstitutions with which they could identify themselves and so become\nconspicuous.\n\nIt was with dismay, therefore, that they heard that He was going where\nthey could not accompany Him. A cloud of gloomy foreboding gathered on\ntheir faces as they lay round the table and fixed their eyes on Him as\non one whose words they would interpret differently if they could. Their\nanxious looks are not disregarded. \"Let not your heart be troubled,\" He\nsays: \"believe in God, and in Me, too, believe.\" Do not give way to\ndisturbing thoughts; do not suppose that only failure, disgrace,\nhelplessness, and calamity await you. Trust God. In this, as in all\nmatters, He is guiding and ruling and working His own good ends through\nall present evil. Trust Him, even when you cannot penetrate the\ndarkness. It is His part to bring you successfully through; it is your\npart to follow where He leads. Do not question and debate and vex your\nsoul, but leave all to Him. \"Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why\nart thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise\nHim who is the health of my countenance and my God.\"\n\n\"And in Me, too, trust.\" I would not leave you had I not a purpose to\nserve. It is not to secure My own safety or happiness I go. It is not to\noccupy the sole available room in My Father's house. There are many\nrooms there, and I go to prepare a place for you. Trust Me. In order\nthat they may fully understand the reasonableness of His departure He\nassures them, first of all, that it has a purpose. The parent mourns\nover the son who in mere waywardness leaves his home and his occupation;\nbut with very different feelings does he follow one who has come to see\nthat the greater good of the family requires that he should go, and who\nhas carefully ascertained where and how he can best serve those he\nleaves behind. To such an absence men can reconcile themselves. The\nparting is bitter, but the greater good to be gained by it enables them\nto approve its reasonableness and to submit. And what our Lord says to\nHis disciples is virtually this: I have not wearied of earth and tired\nof your company, neither do I go because I must. I could escape Judas\nand the Jews. But I have a purpose which requires that I should go. You\nhave not found Me impulsive, neither am I now acting without good\nreason. Could I be of more use to you by staying, I would stay.\n\nThis is a new kind of assertion to be made by human lips: \"I am going\ninto the other world to effect a a purpose.\" Often the sense of duty has\nbeen so strong in men that they have left this world without a murmur.\nBut no one has felt so clear about what lies beyond, or has been so\nconfident of his own power to effect any change for the better in the\nother world, that he has left this for a sphere of greater usefulness.\nThis is what Christ does.\n\nBut He also explains what His purpose is: \"In My Father's house are many\nmansions. I go to prepare a place for you.\" The Father's house was a new\nfigure for heaven. The idea of God's house was, however, familiar to the\nJews. But in the Temple the freedom and familiarity which we associate\nwith home were absent. It was only when One came who felt that His real\nhome was in God that the Temple could be called \"the Father's house.\"\nYet there is nothing that the heart of man more importunately craves\nthan the freedom and ease which this name implies. To live unafraid of\nGod, not shrinking from Him, but so truly at one with Him that we live\nas one household brightened by His presence--this is the thirst for God\nwhich is one day felt in every heart. And on His part God has many\nmansions in His house, proclaiming that He desires to have us at home\nwith Him; that He wishes us to know and trust Him, not to change our\ncountenances when we meet Him at a corner, save by an added brightness\nof joy. And this is what we have to look forward to--that after all our\ncoldness and distrust have been removed and our hearts thawed by His\npresence, we shall live in the constant enjoyment of a Father's love,\nfeeling ourselves more truly at home with Him than with any one else,\ndelighting in the perfectness of His sympathy and the abundance of His\nprovision.\n\nInto this intimacy with God, this freedom of the universe, this sense\nthat \"all things are ours\" because we are His, this entirely attractive\nheaven, we are to be introduced by Christ. \"I go to prepare a place for\nyou.\" It is He who has transformed the darkness of the grave into the\nbright gateway of the Father's home, where all His children are to find\neternal rest and everlasting joy. As an old writer says, \"Christ is the\nquartermaster who provides quarters for all who follow Him.\" He has gone\non before to make ready for those whom He has summoned to come after\nHim.\n\nIf we ask why it was needful that Christ should go forward thus, and\nwhat precisely He had to do in the way of preparation, the question may\nbe answered in different ways. These disciples in after-years compared\nChrist's passing into the Father's presence to the high priest's\nentrance within the veil to present the blood of sprinkling and to make\nintercession. But in the language of Christ there is no hint that such\nthoughts were in His mind. It is the Father's house that is in His mind,\nthe eternal home of men; and He sees the Father welcoming Him as the\nleader of many brethren, and with gladness in His heart going from room\nto room, always adding some new touch for the comfort and surprise of\nthe eagerly expected children. If God, like a grieved and indignant\nfather whose sons have preferred other company to his, had dismantled\nand locked the rooms that once were ours, Christ has made our peace, and\nhas given to the yearning heart of the Father opportunity to open these\nrooms once more and deck them for our home-coming. With the words of\nChrist there enters the spirit a conviction that when we pass out of\nthis life we shall find ourselves as much fuller of life and deeper in\njoy as we are nearer to God, the source of all life and joy; and that\nwhen we come to the gates of God's dwelling it will not be as the\nvagabond and beggar unknown to the household and who can give no good\naccount of himself, but as the child whose room is ready for him, whose\ncoming is expected and prepared for, and who has indeed been sent for.\n\nThis of itself is enough to give us hopeful thoughts of the future\nstate. Christ is busied in preparing for us what will give us\nsatisfaction and joy. When we expect a guest we love and have written\nfor, we take pleasure in preparing for his reception,--we hang in his\nroom the picture he likes; if he is infirm, we wheel in the easiest\nchair; we gather the flowers he admires and set them on his table; we go\nback and back to see if nothing else will suggest itself to us, so that\nwhen he comes he may have entire satisfaction. This is enough for us to\nknow--that Christ is similarly occupied. He knows our tastes, our\ncapabilities, our attainments, and he has identified a place as ours and\nholds it for us. What the joys and the activities and occupations of the\nfuture shall be we do not know. With the body we shall lay aside many of\nour appetites and tastes and proclivities, and what has here seemed\nnecessary to our comfort will at once become indifferent. We shall not\nbe able to desire the pleasures that now allure and draw us. The need of\nshelter, of retirement, of food, of comfort, will disappear with the\nbody; and what the joys and the requirements of a spiritual body will be\nwe do not know. But we do know that at home with God the fullest life\nthat man can live will certainly be ours.\n\nIt is a touching evidence of Christ's truthfulness and fidelity to His\npeople that is given in the words, \"If it were not so, I would have told\nyou\"--that is to say, if it had not been possible for you to follow Me\ninto the Father's presence and find a favourable reception there, I\nwould have told you this long ago. I would not have taught you to love\nMe, only to have given you the grief of separation. I would not have\nencouraged you to hope for what I was not sure you are to receive. He\nhad all along seen how the minds of the disciples were working; He had\nseen that by being admitted to familiarity with Him they had learnt to\nexpect God's eternal favour; and had this been a deceitful expectation\nHe would have undeceived them. So it is with Him still. The hopes His\nword begets are not vain. These dreams of glory that pass before the\nspirit that listens to Christ and thinks of Him are to be realised. If\nit were not so, He would have told us. We ourselves feel that we are\nscarcely acting an honest part when we allow persons to entertain false\nhopes, even when these hopes help to comfort and support them, as in the\ncase of persons suffering from disease. So our Lord does not beget hopes\nHe cannot satisfy. If there were still difficulties in the way of our\neternal happiness, He would have told us of these. If there were any\nreason to despair, He Himself would have been the first to tell us to\ndespair. If eternity were to be a blank to us, if God were inaccessible,\nif the idea of a perfect state awaiting us were mere talk, He would have\ntold us so.\n\nNeither will the Lord leave His disciples to find their own way to the\nFather's home: \"If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again,\nand receive you unto Myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.\"\nPresent separation was but the first step towards abiding union. And as\neach disciple was summoned to follow Christ in death, he recognised that\nthis was the summons, not of an earthly power, but of his Lord; he\nrecognised that to him the Lord's promise was being kept, and that he\nwas being taken into eternal union with Jesus Christ. From many all the\npain and darkness of death have been taken away by this assurance. They\nhave accepted death as the needful transition from a state in which much\nhinders fellowship with Christ to a state in which that fellowship is\nall in all.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[13] \"That ye love _one another_\" is the twice-expressed commandment.\n\n[14] \"Any Church that professes to be _the_ Church of Christ cannot be\nthat Church. The true Church refuses to be circumscribed or parted by\nany denominational wall. It knows that Christ is repudiated when His\npeople are repudiated. Not even a Biblical creed can yield satisfactory\nevidence that a specified Church is the true Church. True Christians are\nthose who love one another across denominational differences, and\nexhibit the spirit of Him who gave Himself to death upon the cross that\nHis murderers might live.\"\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\n_THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE._\n\n\n    \"Thomas saith unto Him, Lord, we know not whither Thou goest; how\n    know we the way? Jesus saith unto him, I am the Way, and the Truth,\n    and the Life: no one cometh unto the Father, but by Me. If ye had\n    known Me, ye would have known My Father also: from henceforth ye\n    know Him, and have seen Him.\"--JOHN xiv. 5-7.\n\n\nIt surprises us to find that words which have become familiar and most\nintelligible to us should have been to the Apostles obscure and\npuzzling. Apparently they were not yet persuaded that their Master was\nshortly to die; and, accordingly, when He spoke of going to His Father's\nhouse, it did not occur to them that He meant passing into the spiritual\nworld. His assuring words, \"Where I am, there ye shall be also,\"\ntherefore fell short. And when He sees their bewilderment written on\ntheir faces, He tentatively, half interrogatively, adds, \"And whither I\ngo ye know, and the way ye know.\"[15] Unless they knew where He was\ngoing, there was less consolation even in the promise that He would come\nfor them after He had gone and prepared a place for them. And when He\nthus challenges them candidly to say whether they understood where He\nwas going, and where He would one day take them also, Thomas, always the\nmouthpiece for the despondency of the Twelve, at once replies, \"Lord, we\nknow not whither Thou goest; and how can we know the way?\"\n\nThis interruption by Thomas gives occasion to the great declaration, \"I\nam the Way, and the Truth, and the Life: no man cometh unto the Father,\nbut by Me.\" It is, then, to the Father that Christ is the Way. And He is\nthe Way by being the Truth and the Life. We must first, then, consider\nin what sense He is the Truth and the Life.\n\nI. I am the Truth. Were these words merely equivalent to \"I speak the\ntruth,\" it would be much to know this of One who tells us things of so\nmeasureless a consequence to ourselves. The faith of the disciples was\nbeing strained by what He had just been saying to them. Here was a man\nin most respects like themselves: a man who got hungry and sleepy, a man\nwho was to be arrested and executed by the rulers, assuring them that He\nwas going to prepare for them everlasting habitations, and that He would\nreturn to take them to these habitations. He saw that they found it hard\nto believe this. Who does not find it hard to believe all our Lord tells\nus of our future? Think how much we trust simply to His word. If He is\nnot true, then the whole of Christendom has framed its life on a false\nissue, and is met at death by blank disappointment. Christ has aroused\nin our minds by His promises and statements a group of ideas and\nexpectations which nothing but His word could have persuaded us to\nentertain. Nothing is more remarkable about our Lord than the calmness\nand assurance with which He utters the most astounding statements. The\nablest and most enlightened men have their hesitations, their periods of\nagonising doubt, their suspense of judgment, their laboured inquiries,\ntheir mental conflicts. With Jesus there is nothing of this. From first\nto last He sees with perfect clearness to the utmost bound of human\nthought, knows with absolute certainty whatever is essential for us to\nknow. His is not the assurance of ignorance, nor is it the dogmatism of\ntraditional teaching, nor the evasive assurance of a superficial and\nreckless mind. It is plainly the assurance of One who stands in the full\nnoon of truth and speaks what He knows.\n\nBut in His endeavours to gain the confidence of men there is discernible\nno anger at their incredulity. Again and again He brings forward reasons\nwhy His word should be believed. He appeals to their knowledge of His\ncandour: \"If it were not so, I would have told you.\" It was the _truth_\nHe came into the world to bear witness to. Lies enough were current\nalready. He came to be the Light of the world, to dispel the darkness\nand bring men into the very truth of things. But with all His\nimpressiveness of asseveration there is no anger, scarcely even wonder\nthat men did not believe, because He saw as plainly as we see that to\nventure our eternal hope on His word is not easy. And yet He answered\npromptly and with authority the questions which have employed the\nlifetime of many and baffled them in the end. He answered them as if\nthey were the very alphabet of knowledge. These alarmed and perturbed\ndisciples ask Him: \"Is there a life beyond? is there another side of\ndeath?\" \"Yes,\" He says, \"through death I go to the Father.\" \"Is there,\"\nthey ask, \"for us also a life beyond? shall such creatures as we find\nsufficient and suitable habitation and welcome when we pass from this\nwarm, well-known world?\" \"In My Father's house,\" He says, \"are many\nmansions.\" Confronted with the problems that most deeply exercise the\nhuman spirit, He without faltering pronounces upon them. For every\nquestion which our most anxious and trying experiences dictate He has\nthe ready and sufficient answer. \"He is the Truth.\"\n\nBut more than this is contained in His words. He says not merely \"I\nspeak the truth,\" but \"I am the Truth.\" In His person and work we find\nall truth that it is essential to know. He is the true Man, the\nrevelation of perfect manhood, in whom we see what human life truly is.\nIn His own history He shows us our own capacities and our own destiny.\nAn angel or an inanimate law might _tell_ us the truth about human life,\nbut Christ is the Truth. He is man like ourselves. If we are\nextinguished at death, so is He. If for us there is no future life,\nneither is there for Him. He is Himself human.\n\nFurther and especially, He is the truth about God: \"If ye had known Me,\nye had known My Father also.\" Strenuous efforts are being made in our\nday to convince us that all our search after God is vain, because by the\nvery nature of the case it is impossible to know God. We are assured\nthat all our imaginations of God are but a reflection of ourselves\nmagnified infinitely; and that what results from all our thinking is not\nGod, but only a magnified man. We form in our thoughts an ideal of human\nexcellence--perfect holiness and perfect love; and we add to this\nhighest moral character we can conceive a supernatural power and wisdom,\nand this we call God. But this, we are assured, is but to mislead\nourselves; for what we thus set before our minds as Divine is not God,\nbut only a higher kind of man. But God is not a higher kind of man: He\nis a different kind of being--a Being to whom it is absurd to ascribe\nintelligence, or will, or personality, or anything human.\n\nWe have felt the force of what is thus urged; and feeling most deeply\nthat for us the greatest of all questions is, What is God? we have been\nafraid lest, after all, we have been deluding ourselves with an image of\nour own creating very different from the reality. We have felt that\nthere is a great truth lying at the heart of what is thus urged, a truth\nwhich the Bible makes as much of as philosophy does--the truth that we\ncannot find out God, cannot comprehend Him. We say certain things about\nHim, as that He is a Spirit; but which of us knows what a pure spirit\nis, which of us can conceive in our minds a distinct idea of what we so\nfreely speak of as a spirit? Indeed, it is because it is impossible for\nus to have any sufficient idea of God as He is in Himself that He has\nbecome man and manifested Himself in flesh.\n\nThis revelation of God in man implies that there is an affinity and\nlikeness between God and man--that man is made in God's image. Were it\nnot so, we should see in Christ, not God at all, but only man. If God is\nmanifest in Christ, it is because there is that in God which can find\nsuitable expression in a human life and person. In fact, this revelation\ntakes for granted that in a sense it is quite true that God is a\nmagnified Man--that He is a Being in whom there is much that resembles\nwhat is in man. And it stands to reason that this must be so. It is\nquite true that man can only conceive what is like himself; but that is\nonly half the truth. It is also true that God can only create what is\nconsistent with His own mind. In His creatures we see a reflection of\nHimself. And as we ascend from the lowest of them to the highest, we see\nwhat He considers the highest qualities. Finding in ourselves these\nhighest qualities--qualities which enable us to understand all lower\ncreatures and to use them--we gather that in God Himself there must be\nsomething akin to our mind and to our inner man.\n\nChrist, then, is \"the Truth,\" because He is the Revealer of God. In Him\nwe learn what God is and how to approach Him. But knowledge is not\nenough. It is conceivable that we should have learned much about God and\nyet have despaired of ever becoming like Him. It might gradually have\nbecome our conviction that we were for ever shut out from all good,\nalthough that is incompatible with a true knowledge of God; for if God\nis known at all, He must be known as Love, as self-communicating. But\nthe possibility of having knowledge which we cannot use is precluded by\nthe fact that He who is the Truth is also the Life. In Him who is the\nRevealer we at the same time find power to avail ourselves of the\nrevelation. For:\n\nII. \"I am the Life.\" The declaration need not be restricted to the\nimmediate occasion, Christ imparts to men power to use the knowledge of\nthe Father He gives them. He gives men desire, will, and power to live\nwith God and in God. But is not all life implied in this? This is life\nas men are destined to know it.\n\nIn every man there is a thirst for life. Everything that clogs, impedes,\nor retards life we hate; sickness, imprisonment, death, whatever\ndiminishes, enfeebles, limits, or destroys life, we abhor. Happiness\nmeans abundant life, great vitality finding vent for itself in healthy\nways. Great scope or opportunity of living to good purpose is useless to\nthe invalid who has little life in himself; and, on the other hand,\nabundant vitality is only a pain to the man who is shut up and can spend\nhis energy only in pacing a cell eight feet by four. Our happiness\ndepends upon these two conditions--perfect energy and infinite scope.\n\nBut can we assure ourselves of either? Is not the one certainty of life,\nas we know it, that it must end? Is it not certain that, no matter what\nenergy the most vigorous of us enjoy, we shall all one day \"lie in cold\nobstruction\"? Naturally we fear that time, as if all life were then to\nend for us. We shrink from that apparent termination, as if beyond it\nthere could be but a shadowy, spectral life in which nothing is\nsubstantial, nothing lively, nothing delightsome, nothing strong. That\nstate which we shrink from our Lord chooses as a condition of perfect\nlife, abundant and untrammelled. And what He has chosen for Himself He\nmeans to bestow upon us.\n\nWhy should we find it so hard to believe in that abundant life? There is\na sufficient source of physical life which upholds the universe and is\nnot burdened, which in continuance and exuberantly brings forth life in\ninconceivably various forms. The world around us indicates a source of\nlife which seems always to grow and expand rather than to be exhausted.\nSo there is a source of spiritual life, a force sufficient to uphold all\nmen in righteousness and in eternal vitality of spirit, and which can\ngive birth to ever new and varied forms of heroic, holy, godly living--a\nforce which is ever pressing forward to find expression through all\nmoral beings, and capable of making all human action as perfect, as\nbeautiful, and infinitely more significant than the products of physical\nlife which we see around us. If the flowers profusely scattered by the\nwayside are marvels of beauty, if the bodily frame of man and of the\nother animals is continually surprising us with some new revelation of\nexquisite arrangement of parts, if nature is so lavish and so perfect in\nphysical life, may we not believe that there is as rich a fountain of\nmoral and spiritual life? Nay, \"the youths may faint and be weary, and\nthe young men utterly fall,\" physical life may fail and in the nature of\nthings must fail, \"but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their\nstrength, they shall run and not be weary.\"\n\nIt is Jesus Christ who brings us into connection with this source of\nlife eternal--He bears it in His own person. In Him we receive a new\nspirit; in Him our motive to live for righteousness is continually\nrenewed; we are conscious that in Him we touch what is undying and never\nfails to renew spiritual life in us. Whatever we need to give us true\nand everlasting life we have in Christ. Whatever we need to enable us to\ncome to the Father, whatever we shall need between this present stage of\nexperience and our final stage, we have in Him.\n\nThe more, then, we use Christ, the more life we have. The more we are\nwith Him and the more we partake of His Spirit, the fuller does our own\nlife become. It is not by imitating successful men we become influential\nfor good, but by living with Christ. It is not by adopting the habits\nand methods of saints we become strong and useful, but by accepting\nChrist and His Spirit. Nothing can take the place of Christ. Nothing can\ntake His words and say to us, \"I am the Life.\" If we wish life, if we\nsee that we are doing little good and desire energy to overtake the good\nthat needs to be done, it is to Him we must go. If we feel as if all our\nefforts were vain, and as if we could not bear up any longer against our\ncircumstances or against our wicked nature we can receive fresh vigour\nand hopefulness only from Christ. We need not be surprised at our\nfailures if we are not receiving from Christ the life that is in Him.\nAnd nothing can give us the life that is in Him but our own personal\napplication to Him, our direct dealing with Himself. Ordinances and\nsacraments help to bring Him clearly before us, but they are not living\nand cannot give us life. It is only in so far as through and in them we\nreach Christ and receive Him that we partake of that highest of all\nforms of life--the life that is in Him, the living One, by whom all\nthings were made, and who in the very face of death can say, \"Because I\nlive ye shall live also.\"\n\nIII. Being the Revealer of the Father, and giving men power to approach\nGod and live in Him, Jesus legitimately designates Himself \"the Way.\"\nJesus never says \"I am the Father\"; He does not even say \"I am God,\" for\nthat might have produced misunderstanding. He uniformly speaks as if\nthere were One on whom He Himself leant, and to whom He prayed, and with\nwhom, as with another person, He had fellowship. \"I am the Way,\" He\nsays; and a way implies a goal beyond itself, some further object to\nwhich it leads and brings us. He is not the Being revealed, but the\nRevealer; not the terminal object of our worship, but the image of the\ninvisible God, the Priest, the Sacrifice.\n\nChrist announces Himself to Thomas as the Way, in order to remove from\nthe mind of the disciple the uncertainty he felt about the future. He\nknew there were heights of glory and blessedness to which the Messiah\nwould certainly attain, but which seemed dim and remote and even quite\nunattainable to sinful men. Jesus defines at once the goal and the way.\nAll our vague yearnings after what will satisfy us He reduces to this\nsimple expression: \"the Father.\" This, He implies, is the goal and\ndestiny of man; to come to the Father, who embraces in His loving care\nall our wants, our incapacities, our sorrows; to reach and abide in a\nlove that is strong, wise, educative, imperishable; to reach this love\nand be so transformed by it as to feel more at home with this perfectly\nholy God than with any besides. And to bring us to this goal is the\nfunction of Christ, the Way. It is His to bring together what is highest\nand what is lowest. It is His to unite those who are separated by the\nmost real obstacles: to bring us, weak and unstable and full of evil\nimaginings, into abiding union with the Supreme, glad to be conformed to\nHim and to accomplish His purposes. In proclaiming Himself \"the Way,\"\nChrist pronounces Himself able to effect the most real union between\nparties and conditions as separate as heaven and earth, sin and\nholiness, the poor creature I know myself to be and the infinite and\neternal God who is so high I cannot know Him.\n\nFurther, the way to which we commit ourselves when we seek to come to\nthe Father through Christ is a _Person_. \"I am the Way.\" It is not a\ncold, dead road we have to make the most of for ourselves, pursuing it\noften in darkness, in weakness, in fear. It is a living way--a way that\nrenews our strength as we walk in it, that enlivens instead of\nexhausting us, that gives direction and light as we go forward. Often we\nseem to find our way barred; we do not know how to get farther forward;\nwe wonder if there is no book in which we can find direction; we long\nfor some wise guide who could show us how to proceed. At such times\nChrist would have us hear Him saying, \"I am the Way. If you abide in Me,\nif you continue in My love, you are in the way and must be carried\nforward to all good.\" Often we seem to lose ourselves and cannot tell\nwhether our faces and our steps are directed aright or not; we become\ndoubtful whether we have been making any progress or have not rather\nbeen going back. Often we lose heart and begin to doubt whether it is\npossible for us men ever to reach any purer, higher life; we are going,\nwe say, we know not whither; this life is full of blunders and failures.\nMany of the best and most earnest and gifted men have owned their\nignorance of the purpose of life and of its end. No voice comes to us\nout of the unseen world to give us assurance that there is life there.\nHow can lonely, ignorant, irresolute, weak, and helpless creatures such\nas we are ever attain to anything we can call blessedness? To all such\ngloom and doubting Christ, with the utmost confidence, says, \"I am the\nWay. Wherever you are, at whatever point of experience, at whatever\nstage of sin, this way begins where you are, and you have but to take it\nand it leads to God, to that unknown Highest you yearn for even while\nyou shrink from Him. From your person, as you are at this moment, there\nleads a way to the Father.\"\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[15] Or, \"And whither I go ye know the way.\"\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\n_THE FATHER SEEN IN CHRIST._\n\n\n    \"Philip saith unto Him, Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth\n    us. Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so longtime with you, and dost\n    thou not know Me, Philip? he that hath seen Me hath seen the Father;\n    how sayest thou, Show us the Father? Believest thou not that I am in\n    the Father, and the Father in Me? the words that I say unto you I\n    speak not from Myself: but the Father abiding in Me doeth His works.\n    Believe Me that I am in the Father, and the Father in Me: or else\n    believe Me for the very works' sake. Verily, verily, I say unto you,\n    He that believeth on Me, the works that I do shall he do also; and\n    greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto the Father.\n    And whatsoever ye shall ask in My name, that will I do, that the\n    Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask Me anything in\n    My name, that will I do. If ye love Me, ye will keep My\n    commandments. And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you\n    another Comforter, that He may be with you for ever, even the Spirit\n    of truth: whom the world cannot receive; for it beholdeth Him not,\n    neither knoweth Him: ye know Him; for He abideth with you, and shall\n    be in you. I will not leave you desolate: I come unto you. Yet a\n    little while, and the world beholdeth Me no more; but ye behold Me:\n    because I live, ye shall live also. In that day ye shall know that I\n    am in My Father, and ye in Me, and I in you. He that hath My\n    commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and he that\n    loveth Me shall be loved of My Father and I will love him, and will\n    manifest Myself unto him.\"--JOHN xiv. 8-21.\n\n\nA third interruption on the part of one of the disciples gives the Lord\noccasion to be still more explicit. Philip is only further bewildered by\nthe words, \"from henceforth ye know the Father and have seen Him.\" He\ncatches, however, at the idea that the Father can be seen, and eagerly\nexclaims, \"Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us.\" In this\nexclamation there may be a little of that vexed and almost irritated\nfeeling that every one at times has felt in reading the words of Christ.\nWe feel as if He might have made things plainer. We unconsciously\nreproach Him with making a mystery, with going about and about a subject\nand refusing to speak straight at it. Philip felt that if Christ could\nshow the Father, then there was no need of any more enigmatical talk.\n\nIgnorant as this request may be, it sprang from the thirst for God which\nwas felt by an earnest and godly man. It arose from the craving that now\nand again visits every soul to get to the heart of all mystery. Here in\nthis life we are much in the dark. We feel ourselves to be capable of\nbetter enjoyments, of a higher life. The whole creation groaneth and\ntravaileth, as if striving towards some better and more satisfying\nstate. There is a something not yet attained which we feel we must\nreach. Were this life all, we should pronounce existence a failure. And\nyet there is great uncertainty over our future. There is no familiar\nintercourse with those who have passed on and are now in the other\nworld. We have no opportunity of informing ourselves of their state and\noccupations. We go on in great darkness and often with a feeling of\ngreat insecurity and trepidation; feeling lost, in darkness, not knowing\nwhither we are going, not sure that we are in the way to life and\nhappiness. Why, we are tempted to ask, should there be so much\nuncertainty? Why should we live so remote from the centre of things, and\nhave to grope our way to life and light, clouded by doubts, beset by\nmisleading and disturbing influences? \"_Show_ us the Father,\" we are\ntempted to say with Philip--show us the Father and it sufficeth us. Show\nus the Supreme. Show us the eternal One who governs all. Take us but\nonce to the centre of things and show us the Father in whom we live.\nTake us for once behind the scenes and let us see the hand that moves\nall things; let us know all that can be known, that we may see what it\nis we are going to, and what is to become of us when this visible world\nis done. Give us assurance that behind all this dumb, immovable mask of\noutward things there is a living God whose love we can trust and whose\npower can preserve us to life everlasting.\n\nTo Philip's eager request Jesus replies: \"Have I been so long time with\nyou, and hast thou not known Me, Philip? He that hath seen Me hath seen\nthe Father; how sayest thou, Show us the Father?\" And it is thus our\nLord addresses all whose unsatisfied craving finds voice in Philip's\nrequest. To all who crave some more immediate, if not more sensible\nmanifestation of God, to all who live in doubt and feel as if more might\nbe done to give us certitude regarding the relation we hold to God and\nto the future, Christ says: No further revelation is to be made, because\nno further revelation is needed or can be made. All has been shown that\ncan be shown. There is no more of the Father you can see than you have\nseen in Me. God has taken that form which is most comprehensible to\nyou--your own form, the form of man. You have seen the Father. I am the\ntruth, the reality. It is no longer a symbol telling you something about\na distant God, but the Father Himself is in Me, speaking and acting\namong you through Me.\n\nWhat do we find in Christ? We find perfection of moral character,\nsuperiority to circumstances, to the elements, to disease, to death. We\nfind in Him One who forgives sin and brings peace of conscience, who\nbestows the Holy Spirit and leads to perfect righteousness. We cannot\nimagine anything in God which is not made present to us in Christ In any\npart of the universe we should feel secure with Christ. In the most\ncritical spiritual emergency we should have confidence that He could\nright matters. In the physical and in the spiritual world He is equally\nat home and equally commanding. We can believe Him when He says that he\nthat has seen Him has seen the Father.\n\nWhat precisely does this utterance mean? Does it only mean that Jesus in\nHis holy and loving ways and in the whole of His character was God's\nvery image? As you might say of a son who strongly resembles his father,\n\"If you have seen the one, you have seen the other.\" It is true that the\nself-sacrifice and humility and devotedness of Jesus did give men new\nviews of the true character of God, that His conduct was an exact\ntranscript of God's mind and conveyed to men new thoughts of God.\n\nBut it is plain that the connection between Jesus and God was a\ndifferent _kind_ of connection from that which subsists between every\nman and God. Every man might in a sense say, \"I am in the Father and the\nFather in me.\" But plainly the very fact that Jesus said to Philip,\n\"Believest thou not that I am in the Father and the Father in Me?\" is\nproof that it was not this ordinary connection He had in view. Philip\ncould have had no difficulty in perceiving and acknowledging that God\nwas in Jesus as He is in every man. But if that were all that Jesus\nmeant, then it was wholly out of place to appeal to the works the Father\nhad given Him to do in proof of this assertion.\n\nWhen, therefore, Jesus said, \"He that hath seen Me hath seen the\nFather,\" He did not merely mean that by His superior holiness He had\nrevealed the Father as no other man had done (although even this would\nbe a most surprising assertion for any mere man to make--that He was so\nholy that whoever had seen Him had seen the absolutely holy God), but He\nmeant that God was present with Him in a special manner.\n\nSo important was it that the disciples should firmly grasp the truth\nthat the Father was in Christ that Jesus proceeds to enlarge upon the\nproof or evidence of this. In the course of doing so He imparts to them\nthree assurances fitted to comfort them in the prospect of His\ndeparture: first, that so far from being weakened by His going to the\nFather, they will do greater works than even those which had proved that\nthe Father was present with Him; second, that He would not leave them\nfriendless and without support, but would send them the Paraclete, the\nSpirit of truth, who should abide with them; and third, that although\nthe world would not see Him, they would, and would recognise that He was\nthe maintainer of their own life.\n\nBut all this experience would serve to convince them that the Father was\nin Him. He had, He says, lived among them as the representative of the\nFather, uttering His will, doing His works. These works might have\nconvinced them even if they were not spiritual enough to perceive that\nHis words were Divine utterances. But a time was coming when a\nsatisfying conviction of the truth that God had been present with them\nin the presence of Jesus would be wrought in them. When, after His\ndeparture, they found _themselves_ doing the works of God, greater works\nthan Jesus had done, when they found that the Spirit of truth dwelt in\nthem, imparting to them the very mind and life of Christ Himself, then\nthey should be certified of the truth that Jesus now declared, that the\nFather was in Him and He in the Father. \"At that day ye shall know that\nI am in My Father, and you in Me, and I in you.\" What their\nunderstanding could not at present quite grasp, the course of events and\ntheir own spiritual experience would make plain to them. When in the\nprosecution of Christ's instructions they strove to fulfil His commands\nand carry out His will upon earth, they would find themselves\ncountenanced and supported by powers unseen, would find their life\nsustained by the life of Christ.\n\nJesus, then, speaks here of three grades of conviction regarding His\nclaim to be God's representative: three kinds of evidence--a lower, a\nhigher, and the highest. There is the evidence of His miracles, the\nevidence of His words or His own testimony, and the evidence of the new\nspiritual life He would maintain in His followers.\n\nMiracles are not the highest evidence, but they are evidence. One\nmiracle might not be convincing evidence. Many miracles of the same\nkind, such as a number of cures of nervous complaints, or several\nsuccessful treatments of blind persons, might only indicate superior\nknowledge of morbid conditions and of remedies. A physician in advance\nof his age might accomplish wonders. Or had all the miracles of Jesus\nbeen such as the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, it might, with\na shade of plausibility, have been urged that this was legerdemain. But\nwhat we see in Jesus is not power to perform an occasional wonder to\nmake men stare or to win for Himself applause, but power as God's\nrepresentative on earth to do whatever is needful for the manifestation\nof God's presence and for the fulfilment of God's will. It may surely at\nthis time of day be taken for granted that Jesus was serious and true.\nThe works are given Him by the Father to do: it is as an exhibition of\nGod's power He performs them. They are therefore performed not in one\nform only, but in every needed form. He shows command over all nature,\nand gives evidence that spirit is superior to matter and rules it.\n\nThe miracles of Christ are also convincing because they are performed by\na miraculous Person. That an ordinary man should seem to rule nature, or\nshould exhibit wonders on no adequate occasion, must always seem\nunlikely, if not incredible. But that a Person notoriously exceptional,\nbeing what no other man has ever been, should do things that no other\nman has done, excites no incredulity. That Christ was supremely and\nabsolutely holy no one doubts; but this itself is a miracle; and that\nthis miraculous Person should act miraculously is not unlikely.\nMoreover, there was adequate occasion both for the miracle of Christ's\nperson and the miracle of His life and separate acts. There was an end\nto be served so great as to justify this interruption of the course of\nthings as managed by men. If miracles are possible, then they could\nnever be more worthily introduced. If at any time it might seem\nappropriate and needful that the unseen, holy, and loving God should\nassert His power over all that touches us His children, so as to give us\nthe consciousness of His presence and of His faithfulness, surely that\ntime was precisely then when Christ came forth from the Father to reveal\nHis holiness and His love, to show men that supreme power and supreme\nholiness and love reside together in God.\n\nAt present men are swinging from an excessive exaltation of miracles to\nan excessive depreciation of them. They sometimes speak as if no one\ncould work a miracle, and sometimes as if any one could work a miracle.\nHaving discovered that miracles do not convince every one, they leap to\nthe conclusion that they convince no one; and perceiving that Christ\ndoes not place them on the highest platform of evidence, they proceed to\nput them out of court altogether. This is inconsiderate and unwise. The\nmiracles of Christ are appealed to by Himself as evidence of His truth;\nand looking at them in connection with His person, His life, and His\nmission or object, considering their character as works of compassion,\nand their instructive revelation of the nature and purpose of Him who\ndid them, we cannot, I think, but feel that they carry in them a very\nstrong claim upon our most serious attention and do help us to trust in\nChrist.\n\nBut Christ Himself, in the words before us, expects that those who have\nlistened to His teaching and seen His life should need no other evidence\nthat God is in Him and He in God--should not require to go down and back\nto the preliminary evidence of miracles which may serve to attract\nstrangers. And, obviously, we get closer to the very heart of any\nperson, nearer to the very core of their being, through their ordinary\nand habitual demeanour and conversation than by considering their\nexceptional and occasional acts. And it is a great tribute to the power\nand beauty of Christ's personality that it actually is not His miracles\nwhich solely or chiefly convince us of His claims upon our confidence,\nbut rather His own character as it shines through His talks with His\ndisciples and with all men He met. This, we feel, is the Person for us.\nHere we have the human ideal. The characteristics here disclosed are\nthose which ought everywhere to prevail.\n\nBut the crowning evidence of Christ's unity with the Father can be\nenjoyed only by those who share His life. The conclusive evidence which\nfor ever scatters doubt and remains abidingly as the immovable ground of\nconfidence in Christ is our individual acceptance of His Spirit.\nChrist's life in God, His identification with the ultimate source of\nlife and power, is to become one of the unquestioned facts of\nconsciousness, one of the immovable data of human existence. We shall\none day be as sure of His unity with the Father, and that in Christ our\nlife is hid in God, as we are sure that now we are alive. Faith in\nChrist is to become an unquestioned certainty. How then is this\nassurance to be attained? It is to be attained when we ourselves as\nChrist's agents do greater works than He Himself did, and when by the\npower of His spiritual presence with us we live as He lived.\n\nChrist calls our attention to this with His usual formula when about to\ndeclare a surprising but important truth: \"Verily, verily, I say unto\nyou, He that believeth on Me shall do greater works than these.\"\nBeginning with such evidence and such trust as we can attain, we shall\nbe encouraged by finding the practical strength which comes of union\nwith Christ. It speedily became apparent to the disciples that our Lord\nmeant what He said when He assured them that they would do greater works\nthan He had done. His miracles had amazed them and had done much good.\nAnd yet, after all, they were necessarily very limited in number, in the\narea of their exercise, and in the permanence of their results. Many\nwere healed; but many, many more remained diseased. And even those who\nwere healed were not rendered permanently unassailable by disease. The\neyes of the blind which were opened for a year or two must close shortly\nin death. The paralysed, though sent from Christ's presence healed, must\nyield to the debilitating influences of age and betake themselves again\nto the crutch or the couch. Lazarus given back for a time to his\nsorrowing sisters must again, and this time without recall, own the\npower of death. And how far did the influence of Christ penetrate into\nthese healed persons? Did they all obey His words and sin no more? or\ndid some worse thing than the disease He freed them from fall upon some\nof them? Was there none who used his restored eyesight to minister to\nsin, his restored energies to do more wickedness than otherwise would\nhave been possible? In one word, the miracles of Christ, great as they\nwere and beneficent as they were, were still confined to the body, and\ndid not directly touch the spirit of man.\n\nBut was this the object of Christ's coming? Did He come to do a little\nless than several of the great medical discoverers have done? Assuredly\nnot. These works of healing which He wrought on the bodies of men were,\nas John regularly calls them, \"signs\"; they were not acts terminating in\nthemselves, and finding their full significance in the happiness\ncommunicated to the healed persons; they were signs pointing to a power\nover men's spirits, and suggesting to men analogous but everlasting\nbenefits. Christ wrought His miracles that men, beginning with what they\ncould see and appreciate, might be led on to believe in and trust Him\nfor power to help them in all their matters. And now He expressly\nannounces to His disciples that these works which He had been doing were\nnot miracles of the highest kind; that miracles of the highest kind were\nworks of healing and renewal wrought not on the bodies but on the souls\nof men, works whose effects would not be deleted by disease and death,\nbut would be permanent, works which should not be confined to Palestine,\nbut should be coextensive with the human race. And these greater works\nHe would now proceed to accomplish through His disciples. By His removal\nfrom earth His work was not to be stopped, but to pass into a higher\nstage. He had come to earth not to make a passing display of Divine\npower, not to give a tantalising glimpse of what the world might be were\nHis power acting freely and continuously in it; but He had come to lead\nus to apprehend the value of spiritual health and to trust Him for that.\nAnd now that He had won men's trust and taught a few to love Him and to\nvalue His Spirit, He removes Himself from their sight, and puts Himself\nbeyond the reach of those who merely sought for earthly benefits, that\nHe may through the Spirit come to all who understood how much greater\nare spiritual benefits.\n\nThis crowning evidence of Christ's being with the Father and in Him the\ndisciples very soon enjoyed. On the day of Pentecost they found such\nresults following from their simple word as had never followed the word\nof Christ. Thousands were renewed in heart and life. And from that day\nto this these greater works have never ceased. And why? \"Because I go to\nthe Father.\" And two reasons are given in these simple words. In the\nfirst place, no such results could be accomplished by Christ because not\ntill He died was the Father's love fully known. It was the death and\nresurrection of Christ that convinced men of the truth of what Christ\nhad proclaimed in His life and in His words regarding the Father. The\ntender compunction which was stirred by His death gave a purchase to the\npreacher of repentance which did not previously exist. It is Christ's\ndeath and resurrection which have been the converting influence through\nall the ages, and these Christ Himself could not preach. It was only\nwhen He had gone to the Father that the greater works of His kingdom\ncould be done. Besides, it was only then that the greater works could be\nunderstood and longed for. The fact is, that the death and resurrection\nof Christ radically altered men's conceptions of the spiritual world,\nand gave them a belief in a future life of the spirit such as they\npreviously had not and could not have. When men came experimentally into\ncontact with One who had passed through death, and who now entered the\nunseen world full of plans and of vitality to execute them, a new sense\nof the value of spiritual benefits was born within them. The fact of\nbeing associated with a living Christ at God's right hand has refined\nthe spiritual conceptions of men, and has given a quality to holiness\nwhich was not previously conspicuous. The spiritual world is now real\nand near, and men no longer think of Christ as a worker of miracles on\nphysical nature, but as the King of the world unseen and the willing\nSource of all spiritual good. We sometimes wonder Christ preached so\nlittle and spoke so little as men do now in directing sinners to Him;\nbut He knew that while He lived this was almost useless, and that events\nwould proclaim Him more effectually than any words.\n\nBut when Christ gives as a reason for the greater works of His disciples\nthat He Himself went to the Father, He also means that, being with the\nFather, He would be in the place of power, able to respond to the\nprayers of His people. \"I go unto the Father, and whatsoever ye shall\nask in My name that will I do.\" No man in Christ's circumstances would\nutter such words at random. They are uttered with a perfect knowledge of\nthe difficulties and in absolute good faith. But praying \"in Christ's\nname\" is not so easy an achievement as we are apt to think. Praying in\nChrist's name means, no doubt, that we go to God, not in our own name,\nbut in His. He has given us power to use His name, as when we send a\nmessenger we bid him use our name. Sometimes when we send a person to a\nfriend we are almost afraid to give him our name, knowing that our\nfriend will be anxious for our sakes to do all he can and perhaps too\nmuch for the applicant. And in going to God in the name of Christ, as\nthose who can plead His friendship and are identified with Him, we know\nwe are sure of a loving and liberal reception.\n\nBut praying in Christ's name means more than this. It means that we pray\nfor such things as will promote Christ's kingdom. When we do anything in\nanother's name, it is for him we do it. When we take possession of a\nproperty or a legacy in the name of some society, it is not for our own\nprivate advantage but for the society we take possession. When an\nofficer arrests any one in the Queen's name, it is not to satisfy his\nprivate malice he does so; and when he collects money in the name of\ngovernment, it is not to fill his own pocket. Yet how constantly do we\noverlook this obvious condition of acceptable prayer! To pray in\nChrist's name is to seek what He seeks, to ask aid in promoting what He\nhas at heart. To come in Christ's name and plead selfish and worldly\ndesires is absurd. To pray in Christ's name is to pray in the spirit in\nwhich He Himself prayed and for objects He desires. When we measure our\nprayers by this rule, we cease to wonder that so few seem to be\nanswered. Is God to answer prayers that positively lead men away from\nHim? Is He to build them up in the presumption that happiness can be\nfound in the pursuit of selfish objects and worldly comfort? It is when\na man stands, as these disciples stood, detached from worldly hopes and\nfinding all in Christ, so clearly apprehending the sweep and benignity\nof Christ's will as to see that it comprehends all good to man, and that\nlife can serve no purpose if it do not help to fulfil that will--it is\nthen a man prays with assurance and finds his prayer answered. Christ\nhad won the love of these men and knew that their chief desire would be\nto serve Him, that their prayers would always be that they might fulfil\nHis purposes. Their fear was, not that He would summon them to live\nwholly for the ends for which He had lived, but that when He was gone\nthey should find themselves unfit to contend with the world.\n\nAnd therefore He gives them the final encouragement that He would still\nbe with them, not indeed in a visible form apparent to all eyes, but in\na valid and powerful spiritual manner appreciable by those who loved\nChrist and strove to do His will. \"If ye love Me, keep My commandments.\nAnd I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter,\"\nanother _Advocate_, one _called to_ your aid, and who shall so\neffectually aid you that in His presence and help you will know Me\npresent with you. \"I will not leave you comfortless, like orphans: I\nwill come to you.\" Christ Himself was still to be with them. He was not\nmerely to leave them His memory and example, but was to be with them,\nsustaining and guiding and helping them even as He had done. The only\ndifference was to be this--that whereas up to this time they had\nverified His presence by their senses, seeing His body, hearing His\nwords, and so forth, they should henceforward verify His presence by a\nspiritual sense which the world of those who did not love Him could not\nmake use of. \"Yet a little while, and the world seeth Me no more; but ye\nsee Me: because I live, ye shall live also.\" They would find that their\nlife was bound up in His; and as that new life of theirs grew strong and\nproved itself victorious over the world and powerful to subdue men's\nhearts to Christ and win the world to Christ's kingdom, they should feel\na growing persuasion, a deepening consciousness, that this life of\ntheirs was but the manifestation of the continued life of Christ. \"At\nthat day they would know that Christ was in the Father, and they in Him,\nand He in them.\"\n\nConsciousness, then, of Christ's present life and of His close relation\nto ourselves is to be won only by loving Him and living in Him and for\nHim. Lower grades of faith there are on which most of us stand, and by\nwhich, let us hope, we are slowly ascending to this assured and\nineradicable consciousness. Drawn to Christ we are by the beauty of His\nlife, by His evident mastery of all that concerns us, by His knowledge,\nby the revelation He makes; but doubts assail us, questionings arise,\nand we long for the full assurance of the personal love of God and of\nthe continued personal life and energy of Christ which would give us an\nimmovable ground to stand on. According to Christ's explanation given in\nthis passage to His disciples, this deepest conviction, this\nunquestionable consciousness of His presence, is attained only by those\nwho proceed upon the lower grades of faith, and with true love for Him\nseek to find their life in Him. It is a conviction which can only be won\nexperimentally. The disciples passed from the lower to the higher faith\nat a bound. The sight of the risen Lord, the new world vividly present\nto them in His person, gave their devotedness an impulse which carried\nthem at once and for ever to certainty. There are many still who are so\ndrawn by spiritual affinity to Christ that unhesitatingly and\nunrepentingly they give themselves wholly to Him, and have the reward of\na conscious life in Christ. Others have more slowly to win their way\nupwards, fighting against unbelief, striving to give themselves more\nundividedly to Christ, and encouraging themselves with the hope that\nfrom their hearts also all doubts will one day for ever vanish. Certain\nit is that Christ's life can only be given to those who are willing to\nreceive it--certain it is that only those who seek to do His work seek\nto be sustained by His life. If we are not striving to attain those ends\nwhich He gave His life to accomplish, we cannot be surprised if we are\nnot sensible of receiving His aid. If we aim at worldly ends, we shall\nneed no other energy than what the world supplies; but if we throw\nourselves heartily into the Christian order of things and manner of\nlife, we shall at once be sensible of our need of help, and shall know\nwhether we receive it or not.\n\nChrist's promise is explicit--a promise given as the stay of His friends\nin their bitterest need: \"He that hath My commandments, and keepeth\nthem, he it is that loveth Me: and he that loveth Me shall be loved of\nMy Father, and I will love Him, and will manifest Myself to him.\" It\nwill still be a spiritual manifestation which can be perceived only by\nthose whose spirits are exercised to discern such things; but it will be\nabsolutely satisfying. We shall find one day that Christ's work has been\nsuccessful, that He has brought men and God into a perfect harmony.\n\"That day\" shall arrive for us also, when we shall find that Christ has\nactually accomplished what He undertook, and has set our life and\nourselves on an enduring foundation--has given us eternal life in God, a\nlife of perfect joy. Things are under God's guidance progressive, and\nChrist is the great means He uses for the progress of all that concerns\nourselves. And what Christ has done is not to be fruitless or only half\neffective; He will see of the travail of His soul and be\nsatisfied--satisfied because in us the utmost of happiness and the\nutmost of good have been attained, because greater and richer things\nthan man has conceived have been made ours.\n\nThese utterances are fitted to dispel a form of unbelief which seriously\nhinders many sincere inquirers. It arises from the difficulty of\nbelieving in Christ as now alive and able to afford spiritual\nassistance. Many persons who enthusiastically admit the perfectness of\nChrist's character and of the morality He taught, and who desire above\nall else to make that morality their own, are yet unable to believe that\nHe can give them any real and present assistance in their efforts after\nholiness. A teacher is a very different thing from a Saviour. They are\nsatisfied with Christ's teaching; but they need more than teaching--they\nneed not only to see the road, but to be enabled to follow it. Unless a\nman can find some real connection between himself and God, unless he can\nrely upon receiving inward support from God, he feels that there is\nnothing which can truly be called salvation.\n\nThis form of unbelief assails almost every man. Very often it results\nfrom the slow-growing conviction that the Christian religion is not\nworking in ourselves the definite results we expected. When we read the\nNew Testament, we see the reasonableness of faith, we cannot but\nsubscribe to the _theory_ of Christianity; but when we endeavour to\npractise it we fail. We have tried it, and it does not seem to work. At\nfirst we think this is something peculiar to ourselves, and that through\nsome personal carelessness or mistake we have failed to receive all the\nbenefit which others receive. But as time goes on the suspicion\nstrengthens in some minds that faith is a delusion: prayer seems to be\nunanswered; effort seems to be unacknowledged. The power of an almighty\nspirit within the human spirit cannot be traced. Perhaps this\nsuspicion, more than all other causes put together, produces undecided,\nheartless Christians.\n\nWhat, then, is to be said in view of such doubts? Perhaps it may help us\npast them if we consider that spiritual things are spiritually\ndiscerned, and that the one proof of His ascension to God's right hand\nwhich Christ Himself promised was the bestowal of His Spirit. If we find\nthat, however slowly, we are coming into a truer harmony with God; if we\nfind that we can more cordially approve the Spirit of Christ, and give\nto that Spirit a more real place in our life; if we are finding that we\ncan be satisfied with very little in the way of selfish and worldly\nadvancement, and that it is a greater satisfaction to us to do good than\nto get good; if we find ourselves in any degree more patient, more\ntemperate, more humble,--then Christ is manifesting in us His present\nlife in the only way in which He promised to do so. Even if we have more\nknowledge, more perception of what moral greatness is, if we see through\nthe superficial formalisms which once passed for religion with us, this\nis a step in the right direction, and if wisely used may be the\nfoundation of a superstructure of intelligent service and real\nfellowship with God. Every discovery and abandonment of error, every\nunmasking of delusion, every attainment of truth, is a step nearer to\npermanent reality, and is a true spiritual gain; and if in times past we\nhave had little experience of spiritual joy and confidence, if our\nthoughts have been sceptical and questioning and perplexed, all this may\nbe the needful preliminary to a more independent and assured and truer\nfaith, and may be the very best proof that Christ is guiding our mind\nand attending to our prayers. It is for \"the world\" to refuse to\nbelieve in the Spirit, because \"it beholdeth Him not, neither knoweth\nHim.\"\n\nIt may also be said that to think of Christ as a good man who has passed\naway like other good men, leaving an influence and no more behind Him,\nto think of Him as lying still in His tomb outside Jerusalem, is to\nreverse not only the belief of those who knew Christ best, but the\nbelief of godly men in all ages. For in all ages both before and after\nChrist it has been the clear conviction of devout souls that God sought\nthem much more ardently and persistently than they sought God. The truth\nwhich shines most conspicuously in the experience of all the saved is\nthat they were saved by God and not by themselves. If human experience\nis to be trusted at all, if it in any case reflects the substantial\nverities of the spiritual world, then we may hold it as proved in the\nuniform experience of men that God somehow communicated to them a living\nenergy, and not only taught them what to do, but gave them strength to\ndo it. If under the Christian dispensation we are left to make the best\nwe can for ourselves of the truth taught by Christ and of the example He\nset us in His life and death, then the Christian dispensation, so far\nfrom being an advance on all that went before, fails to supply us with\nthat very thing which is sought through all religions--actual access to\na living source of spiritual strength. I believe that the resurrection\nof Christ is established by stronger evidence than exists for any other\nhistorical fact; but apart altogether from the historical evidence, the\nentire experience of God's people goes to show that Christ, as the\nmediator between God and man, as the representative of God and the\nchannel of His influence upon us, must be now alive, and must be in a\nposition to exert a personal care and a personal influence, and to yield\na present and inward assistance. Were it otherwise, we should be left\nwithout a Saviour to struggle against the enemies of the soul in our own\nstrength, and this would be a complete reversal of the experience of all\nthose who in past ages have been engaged in the same strife and have\nbeen victorious.\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\n_THE BEQUEST OF PEACE._\n\n\n    \"Judas (not Iscariot) saith unto Him, Lord, what is come to pass\n    that Thou wilt manifest Thyself unto us, and not unto the world?\n    Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man love Me, he will keep My\n    word: and My Father will love him, and We will come unto him, and\n    make our abode with him. He that loveth Me not keepeth not My words:\n    and the word which ye hear is not Mine, but the Father's who sent\n    Me. These things have I spoken unto you, while yet abiding with you.\n    But the Comforter, even the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send\n    in My name, He shall teach you all things, and bring to your\n    remembrance all that I said unto you. Peace I leave with you; My\n    peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let\n    not your heart be troubled, neither let it be fearful. Ye heard how\n    I said to you, I go away, and I come unto you. If ye loved Me, ye\n    would have rejoiced, because I go unto the Father: for the Father is\n    greater than I. And now I have told you before it come to pass,\n    that, when it is come to pass, ye may believe. I will no more speak\n    much with you, for the prince of the world cometh: and he hath\n    nothing in Me; but that the world may know that I love the Father,\n    and as the Father gave Me commandment, even so I do. Arise, let us\n    go hence.\"--JOHN xiv. 22-31.\n\n\nThe encouraging assurances of our Lord are interrupted by Judas\nThaddeus. As Peter, Thomas, and Philip had availed themselves of their\nMaster's readiness to solve their difficulties, so now Judas utters his\nperplexity. He perceives that the manifestation of which Jesus has\nspoken is not public and general, but special and private; and he says,\n\"Lord, what has happened, that Thou art to manifest Thyself to us, and\nnot to the world?\" It would seem as if Judas had been greatly impressed\nby the public demonstration in favour of Jesus a day or two previously,\nand supposed that something must have occurred to cause Him now to wish\nto manifest Himself only to a select few.\n\nApparently Judas' construction of the future was still entangled with\nthe ordinary Messianic expectation. He thought Jesus, although departing\nfor a little, would return speedily in outward Messianic glory, and\nwould triumphantly enter Jerusalem and establish Himself there. But how\nthis could be done privately he could not understand. And if Jesus had\nentirely altered His plan, and did not mean immediately to claim\nMessianic supremacy, but only to manifest Himself to a few, was this\npossible?\n\nBy His reply our Lord shows for the hundredth time that outward\nproclamation and external acknowledgment were not in His thoughts. It is\nto the individual and in response to individual love He will manifest\nHimself. It is therefore a spiritual manifestation He has in view.\nMoreover, it was not to a specially privileged few, whose number was\nalready complete, that He would manifest Himself. Judas supposed that to\nhim and his fellow-Apostles, \"us,\" Jesus would manifest Himself, and\nover against this select company he set \"the world.\" But this mechanical\nline of demarcation our Lord obliterates in His reply, \"If _any man_\nloveth Me, ... We will come to him.\" He enounces the great spiritual law\nthat they who seek to have Christ's presence manifested to them must\nlove and obey Him. He that longs for more satisfying knowledge of\nspiritual realities, he that thirsts for certainty and to see God as if\nface to face, must expect no sudden or magical revelation, but must be\ncontent with the true spiritual education which proceeds by loving and\nliving. To the disciples the method might seem slow--to us also it often\nseems slow; but it is the method which nature requires. Our knowledge of\nGod, our belief that in Christ we have a hold of ultimate truth and are\nliving among eternal verities, grow with our love and service of Christ.\nIt may take us a lifetime--it will take us a lifetime--to learn to love\nHim as we ought, but others have learned and we also may learn, and\nthere is no possible experience so precious to us.\n\nIt is, then, to those who serve Him that Christ manifests Himself, and\nmanifests Himself in an abiding, spiritual, influential manner. That\nthose who do not serve Him do not believe in His presence and power is\nto be expected. But were those who have served Him asked if they had\nbecome more convinced of His spiritual and effectual presence, their\nvoice would be that this promise had been fulfilled. And this is the\nvery citadel of the religion of Christ. If Christ does not now abide\nwith and energetically aid those who serve Him, then their faith is\nvain. If His spiritual presence with them is not manifested in spiritual\nresults, if they have no evidence that He is personally and actively\nemployed in and with them, their faith is vain. To believe in a Christ\nlong since removed from earth and whose present life cannot now\ninfluence or touch mankind is not the faith which Christ Himself\ninvites. And if His promise to abide with those who love and serve Him\nis not actually performed, Christendom has been produced by a mistake\nand has lived on a delusion.\n\nAt this point (ver. 25) Jesus pauses; and feeling how little He had time\nto say of what was needful, and how much better they would understand\ntheir relation to Him after He had finally passed from their bodily\nsight, He says: \"These things I have spoken to you, while yet I remain\nwith you; but the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, which the Father will send\nin My name, He will teach you all things, and will remind you of all\nthat I have said to you.\" Jesus cannot tell them all He would wish them\nto know; but the same Helper whom He has already promised will\nespecially help them by giving them understanding of what has already\nbeen told them, and by leading them into further knowledge. He is to\ncome \"in the name\" of Jesus--that is to say, as His representative--and\nto carry on His work in the world.[16]\n\nHere, then, the Lord predicts that one day His disciples will know more\nthan He has taught them. They were to advance in knowledge beyond the\npoint to which He had brought them. His teaching would necessarily be\nthe foundation of all future attainment, and whatever would not square\nwith that they must necessarily reject; but they were to add much to the\nfoundation He had laid. We cannot therefore expect to find in the\nteaching of Jesus all that His followers ought to know regarding Himself\nand His connection with them. All that is absolutely necessary we shall\nfind there; but if we wish to know all that He would have us know, we\nmust look beyond. The teaching which we receive from the Apostles is the\nrequisite and promised complement of the teaching which Christ Himself\ndelivered. He being the subject taught as much as the teacher, and His\nwhole experience as living, dying, rising, and ascending, constituting\nthe facts which Christian teaching was to explain, it was impossible\nthat He Himself should be the final teacher. He could not at once be\ntext and exposition. He lived among men, and by His teaching shed much\nlight on the significance of His life; He died, and was not altogether\nsilent regarding the meaning of His death, but it was enough that He\nfurnished matter for His Apostles to explain, and confined Himself to\nsketching the mere outline of Christian truth.\n\nAgain and again throughout this last conversation Jesus tries to break\noff, but finds it impossible. Here (ver. 27), when He has assured them\nthat, although He Himself leaves them in ignorance of many things, the\nSpirit will lead them into all truth, He proceeds to make His parting\nbequest. He would fain leave them what will enable them to be free from\ncare and distress; but He has none of those worldly possessions which\nmen usually lay up for their children and those dependent on them.\nHouse, lands, clothes, money, He had none. He could not even secure for\nthose who were to carry on His work an exemption from persecution which\nHe Himself had not enjoyed. He did not leave them, as some initiators\nhave done, stable though new institutions, an empire of recent origin\nbut already firmly established. \"Not as the world giveth, give I unto\nyou.\"\n\nBut He does give them that which all other bequests aim at producing:\n\"Peace I leave with you.\" Men may differ as to the best means of\nattaining peace, or even as to the kind of peace that is desirable, but\nall agree in seeking an untroubled state. We seek a condition in which\nwe shall have no unsatisfied desires gnawing at our heart and making\npeace impossible, no stings of conscience, dipped in the poison of past\nwrong-doing, torturing us hour by hour, no foreboding anxiety darkening\nand disturbing a present which might otherwise be peaceful. The\ncomprehensive nature of this possession is shown by the fact that peace\ncan be produced only by the contribution of past, present, and future.\nAs health implies that all the laws which regulate bodily life are being\nobserved, and as it is disturbed by the infringement of any one of\nthese, so peace of mind implies that in the spiritual life all is as it\nshould be. Introduce remorse or an evil conscience, and you destroy\npeace; introduce fear or anxiety, and peace is impossible. Introduce\nanything discordant, ambition alongside of indolence, a sensitive\nconscience alongside of strong passions, and peace takes flight. He,\ntherefore, who promises to give peace promises to give unassailable\nsecurity, inward integrity and perfectness, all which goes to make up\nthat perfect condition in which we shall be for ever content to abide.\n\nJesus further defines the peace which He was leaving to the disciples as\nthat peace which He had Himself enjoyed: \"_My_ peace I give unto\nyou,\"--as one hands over a possession he has himself tested, the shield\nor helmet that has served him in battle. \"That which has protected Me in\na thousand fights I make over to you.\" The peace which Christ desires\nHis disciples to enjoy is that which characterised Himself; the same\nserenity in danger, the same equanimity in troublous circumstances, the\nsame freedom from anxiety about results, the same speedy recovery of\ncomposure after anything which for a moment ruffled the calm surface of\nHis demeanour. This is what He makes over to His people; this is what He\nmakes possible to all who serve Him.\n\nThere is nothing which more markedly distinguishes Jesus and proves His\nsuperiority than His calm peace in all circumstances. He was poor, and\nmight have resented the incapacitating straitness of poverty. He was\ndriven from place to place, His purpose and motives were suspected, His\naction and teaching resisted, the good He strove to do continually\nmarred; but He carried Himself through all with serenity. It is said\nthat nothing shakes the nerve of brave men so much as fear of\nassassination: our Lord lived among bitterly hostile men, and was again\nand again on the brink of being made away with; but He was imperturbably\nresolute to do the work given Him to do. Take Him at an unguarded\nmoment, tell Him the boat is sinking underneath Him, and you find the\nsame undisturbed composure. He was never troubled at the results of His\nwork or about His own reputation; when He was reviled, He reviled not\nagain.\n\nThis unruffled serenity was so obvious a characteristic of the demeanour\nof Jesus, that as it was familiar to His friends, so it was perplexing\nto His judges. The Roman governor saw in His bearing an equanimity so\ndifferent from the callousness of the hardened criminal and from the\nagitation of the self-condemned, that he could not help exclaiming in\nastonishment, \"Dost Thou not know that I have power over Thee?\"\nTherefore without egotism our Lord could speak of \"My peace.\" The world\nhad come to Him in various shapes, and He had conquered it. No\nallurement of pleasure, no opening to ambition had distracted Him and\nbroken up His serene contentment; no danger had filled His spirit with\nanxiety and fear. On one occasion only could He say, \"Now is My soul\ntroubled.\" Out of all that life had presented to Him He had wrought out\nfor Himself and for us peace.\n\nBy calling it specifically \"My peace\" our Lord distinguishes it from the\npeace which men ordinarily pursue. Some seek it by accommodating\nthemselves to the world, by fixing for themselves a low standard and\ndisbelieving in the possibility of living up to any high standard in\nthis world. Some seek peace by giving the fullest possible gratification\nto all their desires; they seek peace in external things--comfort, ease,\nplenty, pleasant connections. Some stifle anxiety about worldly things\nby impressing on themselves that fretting does no good, and that what\ncannot be cured must be endured; and any anxiety that might arise about\ntheir spiritual condition they stifle by the imagination that God is too\ngreat or too good to deal strictly with their shortcomings. Such kinds\nof peace, our Lord implies, are delusive. It is not outward things which\ncan give peace of mind, no more than it is a soft couch which can give\nrest to a fevered body. Restfulness must be produced from within.\n\nThere are, in fact, two roads to peace--we may conquer or we may be\nconquered. A country may always enjoy peace, if it is prepared always to\nsubmit to indignities, to accommodate itself to the demands of stronger\nparties, and absolutely to dismiss from its mind all ideas of honour or\nself-respect. This mode of obtaining peace has the advantages of easy\nand speedy attainment--advantages to which every man naturally attaches\ntoo high a value. For in the individual life we are daily choosing\neither the one peace or the other; the unrighteous desires which\ndistract us we are either conquering or being conquered by. We are\neither accepting the cheap peace that lies on this side of conflict, or\nwe are attaining or striving towards the peace that lies on the other\nside of conflict. But the peace we gain by submission is both\nshort-lived and delusive. It is short-lived, for a gratified desire is\nlike a relieved beggar, who will quickly find his way back to you with\nhis request rather enlarged than curtailed; and it is delusive, because\nit is a peace which is the beginning of bondage of the worst kind. Any\npeace that is worth the having or worth the speaking about lies beyond,\nat the other side of conflict. We cannot long veil this from ourselves:\nwe may decline the conflict and put off the evil day; but still we are\nconscious that we have not the peace our natures crave until we subdue\nthe evil that is in us. We look and look for peace to distil upon us\nfrom without, to rise and shine upon us as to-morrow's sun, without\neffort of our own, and yet we know that such expectation is the merest\ndelusion, and that peace must begin within, must be found in ourselves\nand not in our circumstances. We know that until our truest purposes are\nin thorough harmony with our conscientious convictions we have no right\nto peace. We know that we can have no deep and lasting peace until we\nare satisfied with our own inward state, or are at least definitely on\nthe road to satisfaction.\n\nAgain, the peace of which Christ here speaks may be called His, as being\nwrought out by Him, and as being only attainable by others through His\ncommunication of it to them. We do at first inquire with surprise how it\nis possible that any one can bequeath to us his own moral qualities.\nThis, in fact, is what one often wishes were possible--that the father\nwho by long discipline, by many painful experiences, has at last become\nmeek and wise, could transmit these qualities to his son who has life\nall before him. As we read the notices of those who pass away from among\nus, it is the loss of so much moral force we mourn; it may be, for all\nwe know, as indispensable elsewhere, but nevertheless it is our loss, a\nloss for which no work done by the man, nor any works left behind him,\ncompensate; for the man is always, or generally, greater than his works,\nand what he has done only shows us the power and possibilities that are\nin him. Each generation needs to raise its own good men, not\nindependent, certainly, of the past, but not altogether inheriting what\npast generations have done; just as each new year must raise its own\ncrops, and only gets the benefit of past toil in the shape of improved\nland, good seed, better implements and methods of agriculture. Still,\nthere is a transmission from father to son of moral qualities. What the\nfather has painfully acquired may be found in the son by inheritance.\nAnd this is _analogous_ to the transfusion of moral qualities from\nChrist to His people. For it is true of all the graces of the Christian,\nthat they are first acquired by Christ, and only from Him derived to the\nChristian. It is of His fulness we all receive, and grace for grace. He\nis the Light at whom we must all kindle, the Source from whom all flows.\n\nHow, then, does Christ communicate to us His peace or any of His own\nqualities--qualities in some instances acquired by personal experience\nand personal effort? He gives us peace, first, by reconciling us to God\nby removing the burden of our past guilt and giving us access to God's\nfavour. His work sheds quite a new light upon God; reveals the fatherly\nlove of God following us into our wandering and misery, and claiming us\nin our worst estate as His, acknowledging us and bidding us hope.\nThrough Him we are brought back to the Father. He comes with this\nmessage from God, that He loves us. Am I, then, troubled about the past,\nabout what I have done? As life goes on, do I only see more and more\nclearly how thoroughly I have been a wrong-doer? Does the present, as I\nlive through it, only shed a brighter and brighter light on the evil of\nthe past? Do I fear the future as that which can only more and more\npainfully evolve the consequences of my past wrong-doing? Am I gradually\nawaking to the full and awful import of being a sinner? After many\nyears of a Christian profession, am I coming at last to see that above\nall else my life has been a life of sin, of shortcoming or evasion of\nduty, of deep consideration for my own pleasure or my own purpose, and\nutter or comparative regardlessness of God? Are the slowly evolving\ncircumstances of my life at length effecting what no preaching has ever\neffected? are they making me understand that sin is the real evil, and\nthat I am beset by it and my destiny entangled and ruled by it? To me,\nthen, what offer could be more appropriate than the offer of peace? From\nall fear of God and of myself I am called to peace in Christ.\n\nReconcilement with God is the foundation, manifestly and of course, of\nall peace; and this we have as Christ's direct gift to us. But this\nfundamental peace, though it will eventually pervade the whole man, does\nin point of fact only slowly develop into a peace such as our Lord\nHimself possessed. The peace which our Lord spoke of to His disciples,\npeace amidst all the ills of life, can only be attained by a real\nfollowing of Christ, and a hearty and profound acceptance of His\nprinciples and spirit. And it is not the less His gift because we have\nthus to work for it, to alter or be altered wholly in our own inward\nbeing. It is not therefore a deceptive bequest. When the father gives\nhis son a good education, he cannot do so irrespective of the hard work\nof the son himself. When the general promises victory to his men, they\ndo not expect to have it without fighting. And our Lord does not upset\nor supersede the fundamental laws of our nature and of our spiritual\ngrowth. He does not make effort of our own unnecessary; He does not give\nus a ready-made character irrespective of the laws by which character\ngrows, irrespective of deep-seated thirst for holiness in ourselves and\nlong-sustained conflict with outward obstacles and internal weaknesses\nand infidelities.\n\nBut He helps us to peace, not only though primarily by bringing us back\nto God's favour, but also by showing us in His own person and life how\npeace is attained and preserved, and by communicating to us His Spirit\nto aid us in our efforts to attain it. He found out more perfectly than\nany one else the secret of peace; and we are stirred by His example and\nsuccess, not only as we are stirred by the example of any dead saint or\nsage with whom we have no present personal living fellowship, but as we\nare stirred by the example of a living Father who is always with us to\ninfuse new heart into us, and to give us effectual counsel and aid.\nWhile we put forth our own efforts to win this self-conquest, and so\nschool all within us as to enter into peace, Christ is with us securing\nthat our efforts shall not be in vain, giving us the fixed and clear\nidea of peace as our eternal condition, and giving us also whatever we\nneed to win it.\n\nThese words our Lord uttered at a time when, if ever, He was not likely\nto use words of course, to adopt traditional and misleading phrases. He\nloved the men He was speaking to, He knew He was after this to have few\nmore opportunities of speaking with them, His love interpreted to Him\nthe difficulties and troubles which would fall upon them, and this was\nthe armour which He knew would bear them scathless through all. That His\npromise was fulfilled we know. We do not know what became of the\nmajority of the Apostles, whether they did much or little; but if we\nlook at the men who stood out prominently in the early history of the\nChurch, we see how much they stood in need of this peace and how truly\nthey received it. Look at Stephen, sinking bruised and bleeding under\nthe stones of a cursing mob, and say what characterises him--what makes\nhis face shine and his lips open in prayer for his murderers? Look at\nPaul, driven out of one city, dragged lifeless out of another, clinging\nto a spar on a wild sea, stripped by robbers, arraigned before\nmagistrate after magistrate--what keeps his spirit serene, his purpose\nunshaken through a life such as this? What put into his lips these\nvalued words and taught him to say to others, \"Rejoice evermore, and let\nthe peace of God which passeth understanding keep your heart and mind\"?\nIt was the fulfilment of this promise--a promise which is meant for us\nas for them. It will be fulfilled in us as in these men, not by a mere\nverbal petition, not by a craving however strong, or a prayer however\nsincere, but by a true and profound acceptance of Christ, by a\nconscientious following of Him as our real leader, as that One from whom\nwe take our ideas of life, of what is worthy and what is unworthy.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[16] \"In this designation of the teaching Spirit as holy, there lie\nlessons for two classes of people. All fanatical professions of\npossessing Divine illumination, which are not warranted and sealed by\npurity of life, are lies or self-delusion. And, on the other hand,\ncold-blooded intellectualism will never force the locks of the palace of\nDivine truth; but they that come there must have clean hands and a pure\nheart; and only those who have the love and the longing for goodness\nwill be wise scholars in Christ's school.\"--MACLAREN.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\n_THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES._\n\n\n    \"Arise, let us go hence. I am the true Vine, and My Father is the\n    Husbandman. Every branch in Me that beareth not fruit, He taketh it\n    away: and every branch that beareth fruit, He cleanseth it, that it\n    may bear more fruit. Already ye are clean because of the word which\n    I have spoken unto you. Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch\n    cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; so neither\n    can ye, except ye abide in Me. I am the Vine, ye are the branches:\n    He that abideth in Me, and I in him, the same beareth much fruit:\n    for apart from Me ye can do nothing. If a man abide not in Me, he is\n    cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and they gather them, and\n    cast them into the fire, and they are burned. If ye abide in Me, and\n    My words abide in you, ask whatsoever ye will, and it shall be done\n    unto you. Herein is My Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit;\n    and so shall ye be My disciples. Even as the Father hath loved Me, I\n    also have loved you; abide ye in My love. If ye keep My\n    commandments, ye shall abide in My love; even as I have kept My\n    Father's commandments, and abide in His love. These things have I\n    spoken unto you, that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be\n    fulfilled. This is My commandment, that ye love one another, even as\n    I have loved you.\"--JOHN xiv. 31-xv. 12.\n\n\nLike a friend who cannot tear himself away and has many more last words\nafter he has bid us good-bye, Jesus continues speaking to the disciples\nwhile they are selecting and putting on their sandals and girding\nthemselves to face the chill night air. He had to all appearance said\nall He meant to say. He had indeed closed the conversation with the\nmelancholy words, \"Henceforth I will not talk much with you.\" He had\ngiven the signal for breaking up the feast and leaving the house, rising\nfrom table Himself and summoning the rest to do the same. But as He saw\ntheir reluctance to move, and the alarmed and bewildered expression that\nhung upon their faces, He could not but renew His efforts to banish\ntheir forebodings and impart to them intelligent courage to face\nseparation from Him. All He had said about His spiritual presence with\nthem had fallen short: they could not as yet understand it. They were\npossessed with the dread of losing Him whose future was their future,\nand with the success of whose plans all their hopes were bound up. The\nprospect of losing Him was too dreadful; and though He had assured them\nHe would still be with them, there was an appearance of mystery and\nunreality about that presence which prevented them from trusting it.\nThey knew they could effect nothing if He left them: their work was\ndone, their hopes blighted.\n\nAs Jesus, then, rises, and as they all fondly cluster round Him, and as\nHe recognises once more how much He is to these men, there occurs to His\nmind an allegory which may help the disciples to understand better the\nconnection they have with Him, and how it is still to be maintained. It\nhas been supposed that this allegory was suggested to Him by some vine\ntrailing round the doorway or by some other visible object, but such\noutward suggestion is needless. Recognising their fears and difficulties\nand dependence on Him as they hung upon Him for the last time, what more\nnatural than that He should meet their dependence and remove their fears\nof real separation by saying, \"I am the Vine, ye the branches\"? What\nmore natural, when He wished to set vividly before them the importance\nof the work He was bequeathing to them, and to stimulate them faithfully\nto carry on what He had begun, than to say, \"I am the Vine, ye the\nfruit-bearing branches: abide in Me, and I in you\"?\n\nDoubtless our Lord's introduction of the word \"true\" or \"real\"--\"I am\nthe true Vine\"--implies a comparison with other vines, but not\nnecessarily with any vines then outwardly visible. Much more likely is\nit that as He saw the dependence of His disciples upon Him, He saw new\nmeaning in the old and familiar idea that Israel was the vine planted by\nGod. He saw that in Himself[17] and His disciples all that had been\nsuggested by this figure was in reality accomplished. God's intention in\ncreating man was fulfilled. It was secured by the life of Christ and by\nthe attachment of men to Him that the purpose of God in creation would\nbear fruit. That which amply satisfied God was now in actual existence\nin the person and attractiveness of Christ. Seizing upon the figure of\nthe vine as fully expressing this, Christ fixes it for ever in the mind\nof His disciples as the symbol of His connection with them, and with a\nfew decisive strokes He gives prominence to the chief characteristics of\nthis connection.\n\nI. The first idea, then, which our Lord wished to present by means of\nthis allegory is, that He and His disciples together form one whole,\nneither being complete without the other. The vine can bear no fruit if\nit has no branches; the branches cannot live apart from the vine.\nWithout the branches the stem is a fruitless pole; without the stem the\nbranches wither and die. Stem and branches together constitute one\nfruit-bearing tree. I, for my part, says Christ, am the Vine; ye are the\nbranches, neither perfect without the other, the two together forming\none complete tree, essential to one another as stem and branches.\n\nThe significance underlying the figure is obvious, and no more welcome\nor animating thought could have reached the heart of the disciples as\nthey felt the first tremor of separation from their Lord. Christ, in His\nown visible person and by His own hands and words, was no longer to\nextend His kingdom on earth. He was to continue to fulfil God's purpose\namong men, no longer however in His own person, but through His\ndisciples. They were now to be His branches, the medium through which He\ncould express all the life that was in Him, His love for man, His\npurpose to lift and save the world. Not with His own lips was He any\nlonger to tell men of holiness and of God, not with His own hand was He\nto dispense blessing to the needy ones of earth, but His disciples were\nnow to be the sympathetic interpreters of His goodness and the\nunobstructed channels through which He might still pour out upon men all\nHis loving purpose. As God the Father is a Spirit and needs human hands\nto do actual deeds of mercy for Him, as He does not Himself in His own\nseparate personality make the bed of the sick poor, but does it only\nthrough the intervention of human charity, so can Christ speak no\naudible word in the ear of the sinner, nor do the actual work required\nfor the help and advancement of men. This He leaves to His disciples,\nHis part being to give them love and perseverance for it, to supply them\nwith all they need as His branches.\n\nThis, then, is the last word of encouragement and of quickening our Lord\nleaves with these men and with us: I leave you to do all for Me; I\nentrust you with this gravest task of accomplishing in the world all I\nhave prepared for by My life and death. This great end, to attain which\nI thought fit to leave the glory I had with the Father, and for which I\nhave spent all--this I leave in your hands. It is in this world of men\nthe whole results of the Incarnation are to be found, and it is on you\nthe burden is laid of applying to this world the work I have done. You\nlive for Me. But on the other hand I live for you. \"Because I live, ye\nshall live also.\" I do not really leave you. If I say, \"Abide in Me,\" I\nnone the less say, \"and I in you.\" It is in you I spend all the Divine\nenergy you have witnessed in my life. It is through you I live. I am the\nVine, the life-giving Stem, sustaining and quickening you. Ye are the\nbranches, effecting what I intend, bearing the fruit for the sake of\nwhich I have been planted in the world by My Father, the Husbandman.\n\nII. The second idea is that this unity of the tree is formed by unity\n_of life_. It is a unity brought about, not by mechanical juxtaposition,\nbut by organic relationship. \"As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself,\nbut must abide in the vine, so neither can ye except ye abide in Me.\" A\nball of twine or a bag of shot cannot be called a whole. If you cut off\na yard of the twine, the part cut off has all the qualities and\nproperties of the remainder, and is perhaps more serviceable apart from\nthe rest than in connection with it. A handful of shot is more\nserviceable for many purposes than a bagful, and the quantity you take\nout of the bag retains all the properties it had while in the bag;\nbecause there is _no common life_ in the twine or in the shot, making\nall the particles one whole. But take anything which is a true unity or\nwhole--your body, for example. Different results follow here from\nseparation. Your eye is useless taken from its place in the body. You\ncan lend a friend your knife or your purse, and it may be more\nserviceable in his hands than in yours; but you cannot lend him your\narms or your ears. Apart from yourself, the members of your body are\nuseless, because here there is one common life forming one organic\nwhole.\n\nIt is thus in the relation of Christ and His followers. He and they\ntogether form one whole, _because_ one common _life_ unites them. \"_As_\nthe branch cannot bear fruit of itself, so neither can ye.\" Why can the\nbranch bear no fruit except it abide in the vine? Because it is a\n_vital_ unity that makes the tree one. And what is a vital unity between\npersons? It can be nothing else than a spiritual unity--a unity not of\na bodily kind, but inward and of the spirit. In other words, _it is a\nunity of purpose and of resources for attaining that purpose_. The\nbranch is one with the tree because it draws its life from the tree and\nbears the fruit proper to the tree. We are one with Christ when we adopt\nHis purpose in the world as the real governing aim of our life, and when\nwe renew our strength for the fulfilment of that purpose by fellowship\nwith His love for mankind and His eternal purpose to bless men.\n\nWe must be content, then, to be branches. We must be content not to\nstand isolated and grow from a private root of our own. We must utterly\nrenounce selfishness. Successful selfishness is absolutely impossible.\nThe greater the apparent success of selfishness is, the more gigantic\nwill the failure one day appear. An arm severed from the body, a branch\nlopped off the tree, is the true symbol of the selfish man. He will be\nleft behind as the true progress of mankind proceeds, with no part in\nthe common joy, stranded and dying in cold isolation. We must learn that\nour true life can only be lived when we recognise that we are parts of a\ngreat whole, that we are here not to prosecute any private interest of\nour own and win a private good for ourselves, but to forward the good\nthat others share in and the cause that is common.\n\nHow this unity is formed received no explanation on this occasion. The\nmanner in which men become branches of the true Vine was not touched\nupon in the allegory. Already the disciples were branches, and no\nexplanation was called for. It may, however, be legitimate to gather a\nhint from the allegory itself regarding the formation of the living bond\nbetween Christ and His people. However ignorant we may be of the\npropagation of fruit trees and the processes of grafting we can at any\nrate understand that no mere tying of a branch to a tree, bark to bark,\nwould effect anything save the withering of the branch. The branch, if\nit is to be fruitful, must form a solid part of the tree, must be\ngrafted so as to become of one structure and life with the stem. It must\nbe cut through, so as to lay bare the whole interior structure of it,\nand so as to leave open all the vessels that carry the sap; and a\nsimilar incision must be made in the stock upon which the branch is to\nbe grafted, so that the cut sap-vessels of the branch may be in contact\nwith the cut sap-vessels of the stock. Such must be our grafting into\nChrist. It must be a laying bare of our inmost nature to His inmost\nnature, so that a vital connection may be formed between these two. What\nwe expect to receive by being connected with Christ is the very Spirit\nwhich made Him what He was. We expect to receive into the source of\nconduct in us all that was the source of conduct in Him. We wish to be\nin such a connection with Him that His principles, sentiments, and aims\nshall become ours.\n\nOn His side Christ has laid bare His deepest feelings and spirit. In His\nlife and in His death He submitted to that severest operation which\nseemed to be a maiming of Him, but which in point of fact was the\nnecessary preparation for His receiving fruitful branches. He did not\nhide the true springs of His life under a hard and rough bark; but\nsubmitting Himself to the Husbandman's knife, He has suffered us through\nHis wounds to see the real motives and vital spirit of His\nnature--truth, justice, holiness, fidelity, love. Whatever in this life\ncut our Lord to the quick, whatever tested most thoroughly the true\nspring of His conduct, only more clearly showed that deepest within Him\nand strongest within Him lay holy love. And He was not shy of telling\nmen His love for them: in the public death He died He loudly declared\nit, opening His nature to the gaze of all. And to this open heart He\ndeclined to receive none; as many as the Father gave Him were welcome;\nHe had none of that aversion we feel to admit all and sundry into close\nrelations with us. He at once gives His heart and keeps back nothing to\nHimself; He invites us into the closest possible connection with Him,\nwith the intention that we should grow to Him and for ever be loved by\nHim. Whatever real, lasting, and influential connection can be\nestablished between two persons, this He wishes to have with us. If it\nis possible for two persons so to grow together that separation in\nspirit is for ever impossible, it is nothing short of this Christ seeks.\n\nBut when we turn to the cutting of the branch, we see reluctance and\nvacillation and much to remind us that, in the graft we now speak of,\nthe Husbandman has to deal, not with passive branches which cannot\nshrink from his knife, but with free and sensitive human beings. The\nhand of the Father is on us to sever us from the old stock and give us a\nplace in Christ, but we feel it hard to be severed from the root we have\ngrown from and to which we are now so firmly attached. We refuse to see\nthat the old tree is doomed to the axe, or after we have been inserted\ninto Christ we loosen ourselves again and again, so that morning by\nmorning as the Father visits His tree He finds us dangling useless with\nsigns of withering already upon us. But in the end the Vinedresser's\npatient skill prevails. We submit ourselves to those incisive operations\nof God's providence or of His gentler but effective word which finally\nsever us from what we once clung to. We are impelled to lay bare our\nheart to Christ and seek the deepest and truest and most influential\nunion.\n\nAnd even after the graft has been achieved the husbandman's care is\nstill needed that the branch may \"abide in the vine,\" and that it may\n\"bring forth more fruit.\" There are two risks--the branch may be\nloosened, or it may run to wood and leaves. Care is taken when a graft\nis made that its permanent participation in the life of the tree be\nsecured. The graft is not only tied to the tree, but the point of\njuncture is cased in clay or pitch or wax, so as to exclude air, water,\nor any disturbing influence. Analogous spiritual treatment is certainly\nrequisite if the attachment of the soul to Christ is to become solid,\nfirm, permanent. If the soul and Christ are to be really one, nothing\nmust be allowed to tamper with the attachment. It must be sheltered from\nall that might rudely impinge upon it and displace the disciple from the\nattitude towards Christ he has assumed. When the graft and the stock\nhave grown together into one, then the point of attachment will resist\nany shock; but, while the attachment is recent, care is needed that the\njuncture be hermetically secluded from adverse influences.\n\nThe husbandman's care is also needed that after the branch is grafted it\nmay bring forth fruit increasingly. Stationariness is not to be\ntolerated. As for fruitlessness, that is out of the question. More fruit\neach season is looked for, and arranged for by the vigorous prunings of\nthe husbandman. The branch is not left to nature. It is not allowed to\nrun out in every direction, to waste its life in attaining size. Where\nit seems to be doing grandly and promising success, the knife of the\nvinedresser ruthlessly cuts down the flourish, and the fine appearance\nlies withering on the ground. But the vintage justifies the husbandman.\n\nIII. This brings us to the third idea of the allegory--that the result\naimed at in our connection with Christ is fruit-bearing. The allegory\nbids us think of God as engaged in the tendance and culture of men with\nthe watchful, fond interest with which the vinedresser tends his plants\nthrough every stage of growth and every season of the year, and even\nwhen there is nothing to be done gazes on them admiringly and finds\nstill some little attention he can pay them; but all in the hope of\nfruit. All this interest collapses at once, all this care becomes a\nfoolish waste of time and material, and reflects discredit and ridicule\non the vinedresser, if there is no fruit. God has prepared for us in\nthis life a soil than which nothing can be better for the production of\nthe fruit He desires us to yield; He has made it possible for every man\nto serve a good purpose; He does His part not with reluctance, but, if\nwe may say so, as His chief interest; but all in the expectation of\nfruit. We do not spend days of labour and nights of anxious thought, we\ndo not lay out all we have at command, on that which is to effect\nnothing and give no satisfaction to ourselves or any one else; and\nneither does God. He did not make this world full of men for want of\nsomething better to do, as a mere idle pastime. He made it that the\nearth might yield her increase, that each of us might bring forth fruit.\nFruit alone can justify the expense put upon this world. The wisdom, the\npatience, the love that have guided all things through the slow-moving\nages will be justified in the product. And what this product is we\nalready know: it is the attainment of moral perfection by created\nbeings. To this all that has been made and done in the past leads up.\n\"The whole creation groaneth and travaileth,\"--for what? \"For the\nmanifestation of the sons of God.\" The lives and acts of good men are\nthe adequate return for all past outlay, the satisfying fruit.\n\nThe production of this fruit became a certainty when Christ was planted\nin the world as a new moral stem. He was sent into the world not to make\nsome magnificent outward display of Divine power, to carry us to some\nother planet, or alter the conditions of life here. God might have\ndeparted from His purpose of filling this earth with holy men, and might\nhave used it for some easier display which for the moment might have\nseemed more striking. He did not do so. It was human obedience, the\nfruit of genuine human righteousness, of the love and goodness of men\nand women, that He was resolved to reap from earth. He was resolved to\ntrain men to such a pitch of goodness that in a world contrived to tempt\nthere should be found nothing so alluring, nothing so terrifying, as to\nturn men from the straight path. He was to produce a race of men who,\nwhile still in the body, urged by appetites, assaulted by passions and\ncravings, with death threatening and life inviting, should prefer all\nsuffering rather than flinch from duty, should prove themselves actually\nsuperior to every assault that can be made on virtue, should prove that\nspirit is greater than matter. And God set Christ in the world to be the\nliving type of human perfection, to attract men by their love for Him to\nHis kind of life, and to furnish them with all needed aid in becoming\nlike Him--that as Christ had kept the Father's commandments, His\ndisciples should keep His commandments, that thus a common\nunderstanding, an identity of interest and moral life, should be\nestablished between God and man.\n\nPerhaps it is not pressing the figure too hard to remark that the fruit\ndiffers from timber in this respect--that it enters into and nourishes\nthe life of man. No doubt in this allegory fruit-bearing primarily and\nchiefly indicates that God's purpose in creating man is satisfied. The\ntree He has planted is not barren, but fruitful. But certainly a great\ndistinction between the selfish and the unselfish man, between the man\nwho has private ambitions and the man who labours for the public good,\nlies in this--that the selfish man seeks to erect a monument of some\nkind for himself, while the unselfish man spends himself in labours that\nare not conspicuous, but assist the life of his fellows. An oak carving\nor a structure of hard wood will last a thousand years and keep in\nmemory the skill of the designer: fruit is eaten and disappears, but it\npasses into human life, and becomes part of the stream that flows on for\never. The ambitious man longs to execute a monumental work, and does not\nmuch regard whether it will be for the good of men or not; a great war\nwill serve his turn, a great book, anything conspicuous. But he who is\ncontent to be a branch of the True Vine will not seek the admiration of\nmen, but will strive to introduce a healthy spiritual life into those he\ncan reach, even although in order to do so he must remain obscure and\nmust see his labours absorbed without notice or recognition.\n\nDoes the teaching of this allegory, then, accord with the facts of life\nas we know them? Is it a truth, and a truth we must act upon, that apart\nfrom Christ we can do nothing? In what sense and to what extent is\nassociation with Christ really necessary to us?\n\nSomething may of course be made of life apart from Christ. A man may\nhave much enjoyment and a man may do much good apart from Christ. He may\nbe an inventor, who makes human life easier or safer or fuller of\ninterest. He may be a literary man, who by his writings enlightens,\nexhilarates, and elevates mankind. He may, with entire ignorance or\nutter disregard of Christ, toil for his country or for his class or for\nhis cause. But the best uses and ends of human life cannot be attained\napart from Christ. Only in Him does the reunion of man with God seem\nattainable, and only in Him do God and God's aim and work in the world\nbecome intelligible. He is as necessary for the spiritual life of men as\nthe sun is for this physical life. We may effect something by\ncandle-light; we may be quite proud of electric light, and think we are\ngetting far towards independence; but what man in his senses will be\nbetrayed by these attainments into thinking we may dispense with the\nsun? Christ holds the key to all that is most permanent in human\nendeavour, to all that is deepest and best in human character. Only in\nHim can we take our place as partners with God in what He is really\ndoing with this world. And only from Him can we draw courage,\nhopefulness, love to prosecute this work. In Him God does reveal\nHimself, and in Him the fulness of God is found by us. He is in point of\nfact the one moral stem apart from whom we are not bearing and cannot\nbear the fruit God desires.\n\nIf, then, we are not bringing forth fruit, it is because there is a flaw\nin our connection with Christ; if we are conscious that the results of\nour life and activity are not such results as He designs, and are in no\nsense traceable to Him, this is because there is something about our\nadherence to Him that is loose and needs rectification. Christ calls us\nto Him and makes us sharers in His work; and he who listens to this call\nand counts it enough to be a branch of this Vine and do His will is\nupheld by Christ's Spirit, is sweetened by His meekness and love, is\npurified by His holy and fearless rectitude, is transformed by the\ndominant will of this Person whom he has received deepest into his soul,\nand does therefore bring forth, in whatever place in life he holds, the\nsame kind of fruit as Christ Himself would bring forth; it is indeed\nChrist who brings forth these fruits, Christ at a few steps removed--for\nevery Christian learns, as well as Paul, to say, \"Not I, but Christ in\nme.\" If, then, the will of Christ is not being fulfilled through us, if\nthere is good that it belongs to us to do, but which remains undone,\nthen the point of juncture with Christ is the point that needs looking\nto. It is not some unaccountable blight that makes us useless; it is not\nthat we have got the wrong piece of the wall, a situation in which\nChrist Himself could bear no precious fruit. The Husbandman knew His own\nmeaning when He trained us along that restricted line and nailed us\ndown; He chose the place for us, knowing the quality of fruit He desires\nus to yield. The reason of our fruitlessness is the simple one, that we\nare not closely enough attached to Christ.\n\nHow, then, is it with ourselves? By examining the results of our lives,\nwould any one be prompted to exclaim, \"These are trees of\n_righteousness_, the planting of the Lord that He may be glorified\"? For\nthis examination is made, and made not by one who chances to pass, and\nwho, being a novice in horticulture, might be deceived by a show of\nleaves or poor fruit, or whose examination might terminate in wonder at\nthe slothfulness or mismanagement of the owner who allowed such trees\nto cumber his ground; but the examination is made by One who has come\nfor the express purpose of gathering fruit, who knows exactly what has\nbeen spent upon us and what might have been made of our opportunities,\nwho has in His own mind a definite idea of the fruit that should be\nfound, and who can tell by a glance whether such fruit actually exists\nor no. To this infallible Judge of produce what have we to offer? From\nall our busy engagement in many affairs, from all our thought, what has\nresulted that we can offer as a satisfactory return for all that has\nbeen spent upon us? It is deeds of profitable service such as men of\nlarge and loving nature would do that God seeks from us. And He\nrecognises without fail what is love and what only seems so. He\ninfallibly detects the corroding spot of selfishness that rots the whole\nfair-seeming cluster. He stands undeceivable before us, and takes our\nlives precisely for what they are worth.\n\nIt concerns us to make such inquiries, for fruitless branches cannot be\ntolerated. The purpose of the tree is fruit. If, then, we would escape\nall suspicion of our own state and all reproach of fruitlessness, what\nwe have to do is, not so much to find out new rules for conduct, as to\nstrive to renew our hold upon Christ and intelligently to enter into His\npurposes. \"Abide in Him.\" This is the secret of fruitfulness. All that\nthe branch needs is in the Vine; it does not need to go beyond the Vine\nfor anything. When we feel the life of Christ ebbing from our soul, when\nwe see our leaf fading, when we feel sapless, heartless for Christian\nduty, reluctant to work for others, to take anything to do with the\nrelief of misery and the repression of vice, there is a remedy for this\nstate, and it is to renew our fellowship with Christ--to allow the mind\nonce again to conceive clearly the worthiness of His aims, to yield the\nheart once again to the vitalising influence of His love, to turn from\nthe vanities and futilities with which men strive to make life seem\nimportant to the reality and substantial worth of the life of Christ. To\nabide in Christ is to abide by our adoption of His view of the true\npurpose of human life after testing it by actual experience; it is to\nabide by our trust in Him as the true Lord of men, and as able to supply\nus with all that we need to keep His commandments. And thus abiding in\nChrist we are sustained by Him; for He abides in us, imparts to us, His\nbranches now on earth, the force which is needful to accomplish His\npurposes.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[17] That the vine was a recognised symbol of the Messiah is shown by\nDelitzsch in the _Expositor_, 3rd series, vol. iii., pp. 68, 69. See\nalso his _Iris_, pp. 180-190, E. Tr.\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\n_NOT SERVANTS, BUT FRIENDS._\n\n\n    \"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life\n    for his friends. Ye are My friends, if ye do the things which I\n    command you. No longer do I call you servants; for the servant\n    knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for\n    all things that I heard from My Father I have made known unto you.\n    Ye did not choose Me, but I chose you, and appointed you, that ye\n    should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should abide: that\n    whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in My name, He may give it\n    you. These things I command you, that ye may love one\n    another.\"--JOHN xv. 13-17.\n\n\nThese words of our Lord are the charter of our emancipation. They give\nus entrance into true freedom. They set us in the same attitude towards\nlife and towards God as Christ Himself occupied. Without this\nproclamation of freedom and all it covers we are the mere drudges of\nthis world,--doing its work, but without any great and far-reaching aim\nthat makes it worth doing; accepting the tasks allotted to us because we\nmust, not because we will; living on because we happen to be here, but\nwithout any part in that great future towards which all things are\nrunning on. But this is of the very essence of slavery. For our Lord\nhere lays His finger on the sorest part of this deepest of human sores\nwhen He says, \"The slave knows not what his master does.\" It is not that\nhis back is torn with the lash, it is not that he is underfed and\noverworked, it is not that he is poor and despised; all this would be\ncheerfully undergone to serve a cherished purpose and accomplish ends a\nman had chosen for himself. But when all this must be endured to work\nout the purposes of another, purposes never hinted to him, and with\nwhich, were they hinted, he might have no sympathy, this is slavery,\nthis is to be treated as a tool for accomplishing aims chosen by\nanother, and to be robbed of all that constitutes manhood. Sailors and\nsoldiers have sometimes mutinied when subjected to similar treatment,\nwhen no inkling has been given them of the port to which they are\nshipped or the nature of the expedition on which they are led. Men do\nnot feel degraded by any amount of hardship, by going for months on\nshort rations or lying in frost without tents; but they do feel degraded\nwhen they are used as weapons of offence, as if they had no intelligence\nto appreciate a worthy aim, no power of sympathising with a great\ndesign, no need of an interest in life and a worthy object on which to\nspend it, no share in the common cause. Yet such is the life with which,\napart from Christ, we must perforce be content, doing the tasks\nappointed us with no sustaining consciousness that our work is part of a\ngreat whole working out the purposes of the Highest. Even such a spirit\nas Carlyle is driven to say: \"Here on earth we are soldiers, fighting in\na foreign land, that understand not the plan of campaign and have no\nneed to understand it, seeing what is at our hand to be\ndone,\"--excellent counsel for slaves, but not descriptive of the life we\nare meant for, nor of the life our Lord would be content to give us.\n\nTo give us true freedom, to make this life a thing we choose with the\nclearest perception of its uses and with the utmost ardour, our Lord\nmakes known to us all that He heard of the Father. What He had heard of\nthe Father, all that the Spirit of the Father had taught Him of the need\nof human effort and of human righteousness, all that as He grew up to\nmanhood He recognised of the deep-seated woes of humanity, and all that\nHe was prompted to do for the relief of these woes, He made known to His\ndisciples. The irresistible call to self-sacrifice and labour for the\nrelief of men which He heard and obeyed, He made known and He makes\nknown to all who follow Him. He did not allot clearly defined tasks to\nHis followers; He did not treat them as slaves, appointing one to this\nand another to that: He showed them His own aim and His own motive, and\nleft them as His friends to be attracted by the aim that had drawn Him,\nand to be ever animated with the motive that sufficed for Him. What had\nmade His life so glorious, so full of joy, so rich in constant reward,\nHe knew would fill their lives also; and He leaves them free to choose\nit for themselves, to stand before life as independent, unfettered,\nundriven men, and choose without compulsion what their own deepest\nconvictions prompted them to choose. The \"friend\" is not compelled\nblindly to go through with a task whose result he does not understand or\ndoes not sympathise with; the friend is invited to share in a work in\nwhich he has a direct personal interest and to which he can give himself\ncordially. All life should be the forwarding of purposes we approve, the\nbringing about of ends we earnestly desire: all life, if we are free\nmen, must be matter of choice, not of compulsion. And therefore Christ,\nhaving heard of the Father that which made Him feel straitened until the\ngreat aim of His life could be accomplished, which made Him press\nforward through life attracted and impelled by the consciousness of its\ninfinite value as achieving endless good, imparts to us what moved and\nanimated Him, that we may freely choose as He chose and enter into the\njoy of our Lord.\n\nThis, then, is the point of this great utterance: Jesus takes our lives\nup into partnership with His own. He sets before us the same views and\nhopes which animated Himself, and gives us a prospect of being useful to\nHim and in His work. If we engage in the work of life with a dull and\nheartless feeling of its weariness, or merely for the sake of gaining a\nlivelihood, if we are not drawn to labour by the prospect of result,\nthen we have scarcely entered into the condition our Lord opens to us.\nIt is for the merest slaves to view their labour with indifference or\nrepugnance. Out of this state our Lord calls us, by making known to us\nwhat the Father made known to Him, by giving us the whole means of a\nfree, rational, and fruitful life. He gives us the fullest satisfaction\nmoral beings can have, because He fills our life with intelligent\npurpose. He lifts us into a position in which we see that we are not the\nslaves of fate or of this world, but that _all things are ours_, that\nwe, through and with Him, are masters of the position, and that so far\nfrom thinking it almost a hardship to have been born into so melancholy\nand hopeless a world, we have really the best reason and the highest\npossible object for living. He comes among us and says, \"Let us all work\ntogether. Something can be made of this world. Let us with heart and\nhope strive to make of it something worthy. Let unity of aim and of work\nbind us together.\" This is indeed to redeem life from its vanity.\n\nHe says this, and lest any should think, \"This is fantastic; how can\nsuch an one as I am forward the work of Christ? It is enough if I get\nfrom Him salvation for myself,\" He goes on to say, \"Ye have not chosen\nMe, but I have chosen you, and ordained you that ye should go and bring\nforth fruit, and that your fruit should remain. It was,\" He says,\n\"precisely in view of the eternal results of your work that I selected\nyou and called you to follow Me.\" It was true then, and it is true now,\nthat the initiative in our fellowship with Christ is with Him. So far as\nthe first disciples were concerned Jesus might have spent His life\nmaking ploughs and cottage furniture. No one discovered Him. Neither\ndoes any one now discover Him. It is He who comes and summons us to\nfollow and to serve Him. He does so because He sees that there is that\nwhich we can do which no one else can: relationships we hold,\nopportunities we possess, capacities for just this or that, which are\nour special property into which no other can possibly step, and which,\nif we do not use them, cannot otherwise be used.\n\nDoes He, then, point out to us with unmistakable exactness what we are\nto do, and how we are to do it? Does He lay down for us a code of rules\nso multifarious and significant that we cannot mistake the precise piece\nof work He requires from us? He does not. He has but one sole\ncommandment, and this is no commandment, because we cannot keep it on\ncompulsion, but only at the prompting of our own inward spirit: He bids\nus love one another. He comes back and back to this with significant\npersistence, and declines to utter one other commandment. In love alone\nis sufficient wisdom, sufficient motive, and sufficient reward for human\nlife. It alone has adequate wisdom for all situations, new resource for\nevery fresh need, adaptability to all emergencies, an inexhaustible\nfertility and competency; it alone can bring the capability of each to\nthe service of all. Without love we beat the air.\n\nThat love is our true life is shown further by this--that it is its own\nreward. When a man's life is in any intelligible sense proceeding from\nlove, when this is his chief motive, he is content with living, and\nlooks for no reward. His joy is already full; he does not ask, What\nshall I be the better of thus sacrificing myself? what shall I gain by\nall this regulation of my life? what good return in the future shall I\nhave for all I am losing now? He cannot ask these questions, if the\nmotive of his self-sacrificing life be love; just as little as the\nhusband could ask what reward he should have for loving his wife. A man\nwould be astounded and would scarcely know what you meant if you asked\nhim what he expected to get by loving his children or his parents or his\nfriends. Get? Why he does not expect to get anything; he does not love\nfor an object: he loves because he cannot help it; and the chief joy of\nhis life is in these unrewarded affections. He no longer looks forward\nand thinks of a fulness of life that is to be; he already lives and is\nsatisfied with the life he has. His happiness is present; his reward is\nthat he may be allowed to express his love, to feed it, to gratify it by\ngiving and labouring and sacrificing. In a word, he finds in love\neternal life--life that is full of joy, that kindles and enlivens his\nwhole nature, that carries him out of himself and makes him capable of\nall good.\n\nThis truth, then, that whatever a man does from love is its own reward,\nis the solution of the question whether virtue is its own reward. Virtue\nis its own reward when it is inspired by love. Life is its own reward\nwhen love is the principle of it. We know that we should always be happy\nwere we always loving. We know that we should never weary of living nor\nturn with distaste from our work were all our work only the expression\nof our love, of our deep, true, and well-directed regard for the good\nof others. It is when we disregard our Lord's one commandment and try\nsome other kind of virtuous living that joy departs from our life, and\nwe begin to hope for some future reward which may compensate for the\ndulness of the present--as if a change of time could change the\nessential conditions of life and happiness. If we are not joyful now, if\nlife is dreary and dull and pointless to us, so that we crave the\nexcitement of a speculative business, or of boisterous social meetings,\nor of individual success and applause, then it should be quite plain to\nus that as yet we have not found life, and have not the capacity for\neternal life quickened in us. If we are able to love one human being in\nsome sort as Christ loved us--that is to say, if our affection is so\nfixed upon any one that we feel we could give our life for that\nperson--let us thank God for this; for this love of ours gives us the\nkey to human life, and will better instruct us in what is most essential\nto know, and lead us on to what is most essential to be and to do than\nany one can teach us. It is profoundly and widely true, as John says,\nthat every one that loveth is born of God and knoweth God. If we love\none human being, we at least know that a life in which love is the main\nelement needs no reward and looks for none. We see that God looks for no\nreward, but is eternally blessed because simply God is eternally love.\nLife eternal must be a life of love, of delight in our fellows, of\nrejoicing in their good and seeking to increase their happiness.\n\nSometimes, however, we find ourselves grieving at the prosperity of the\nwicked: we think that they should be unhappy, and yet they seem more\nsatisfied than ourselves. They pay no regard whatever to the law of life\nlaid down by our Lord; they never dream of living for others; they have\nnever once proposed to themselves to consider whether His great law,\nthat a man must lose his life if he is to have it eternally, has any\napplication to them; and yet they seem to enjoy life as much as anybody\ncan. Take a man who has a good constitution, and who is in easy\ncircumstances, and who has a good and pure nature; you will often see\nsuch a man living with no regard to the Christian rule, and yet enjoying\nlife thoroughly to the very end. And of course it is just such a\nspectacle, repeated everywhere throughout society, that influences men's\nminds and tempts all of us to believe that such a life is best after\nall, and that selfishness as well as unselfishness can be happy; or at\nall events that we can have as much happiness as our own disposition is\ncapable of by a self-seeking life. Now, when we are in a mood to compare\nour own happiness with that of other men, our own happiness must\nobviously be at a low ebb; but when we resent the prosperity of the\nwicked, we should remember that, though they may flourish like the green\nbay tree, their fruit does not remain: living for themselves, their\nfruit departs with themselves, their good is interred with their bones.\nBut it is also to be considered that we should never allow ourselves to\nget the length of putting this question or of comparing our happiness\nwith that of others. For we can only do so when we are ourselves\ndisappointed and discontented and have missed the joy of life; and this\nagain can be only when we have ceased to live lovingly for others.\n\nBut this one essential of Christian service and human freedom--how are\nwe to attain it? Is it not the one thing which seems obstinately to\nstand beyond our grasp? For the human heart has laws of its own, and\ncannot love to order or admire because it ought. But Christ brings, in\nHimself, the fountain out of which our hearts can be supplied, the fire\nwhich kindles all who approach it. No one can receive His love without\nsharing it. No one can dwell upon Christ's love for him and treasure it\nas his true and central possession without finding his own heart\nenlarged and softened. Until our own heart is flooded with the great and\nregenerating love of Christ, we strive in vain to love our fellows. It\nis when we fully admit it that it overflows through our own satisfied\nand quickened affections to others.\n\nAnd perhaps we do well not too curiously to question and finger our\nlove, making sure only that we are keeping ourselves in Christ's\nfellowship and seeking to do His will. Affection, indeed, induces\ncompanionship, but also companionship produces affection, and the honest\nand hopeful endeavour to serve Christ loyally will have its reward in a\ndeepening devotion. It is not the recruit but the veteran whose heart is\nwholly his chief's. And he who has long and faithfully served Christ\nwill not need to ask where his heart is. We hate those whom we have\ninjured, and we love those whom we have served; and if by long service\nwe can win our way to an intimacy with Christ which no longer needs to\nquestion itself or test its soundness, in that service we may most\njoyfully engage. For what can be a happier consummation than to find\nourselves finally overcome by the love of Christ, drawn with all the\nforce of a Divine attraction, convinced that here is our rest, and that\nthis is at once our motive and our reward?\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\n_THE SPIRIT CHRIST'S WITNESS._\n\n\n    \"If the world hateth you, ye know that it hath hated Me before it\n    hated you. If ye were of the world, the world would love its own:\n    but because ye are not of the world, but I chose you out of the\n    world, therefore the world hateth you. Remember the word that I said\n    unto you, A servant is not greater than his lord. If they persecuted\n    Me, they will also persecute you; if they kept My word, they will\n    keep yours also. But all these things will they do unto you for My\n    name's sake, because they know not Him that sent Me. If I had not\n    come and spoken unto them, they had not had sin: but now they have\n    no excuse for their sin. He that hateth Me hateth My Father also. If\n    I had not done among them the works which none other did, they had\n    not had sin: but now have they both seen and hated both Me and My\n    Father. But this cometh to pass, that the word may be fulfilled that\n    is written in their law, They hated Me without a cause. But when the\n    Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even\n    the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, He shall bear\n    witness of Me: and ye also bear witness, because ye have been with\n    Me from the beginning. These things have I spoken unto you, that ye\n    should not be made to stumble. They shall put you out of the\n    synagogues: yea, the hour cometh, that whosoever killeth you shall\n    think that he offereth service unto God. And these things will they\n    do, because they have not known the Father, nor Me. But these things\n    have I spoken unto you, that when their hour is come, ye may\n    remember them, how that I told you. And these things I said not unto\n    you from the beginning, because I was with you. But now I go unto\n    Him that sent Me; and none of you asketh Me, Whither goest Thou? But\n    because I have spoken these things unto you, sorrow hath filled your\n    heart. Nevertheless I tell you the truth; It is expedient for you\n    that I go away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come\n    unto you; but if I go, I will send Him unto you. And He, when He is\n    come, will convict the world in respect of sin, and of\n    righteousness, and of judgment: of sin, because they believe not on\n    Me; of righteousness, because I go to the Father, and ye behold Me\n    no more; of judgment, because the prince of this world hath been\n    judged. I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear\n    them now. Howbeit when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He shall\n    guide you into all the truth: for He shall not speak from Himself;\n    but what things soever He shall hear, these shall He speak: and He\n    shall declare unto you the things that are to come. He shall glorify\n    Me: for He shall take of Mine, and shall declare it unto you. All\n    things whatsoever the Father hath are Mine: therefore said I, that\n    He taketh of Mine, and shall declare it unto you.\"--JOHN xv. 18-xvi.\n    15.\n\n\nHaving shown His disciples that by them only can His purposes on earth\nbe fulfilled, and that He will fit them for all work that may be\nrequired of them, the Lord now adds that their task will be full of\nhazard and hardship: \"They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the\ntime cometh that whosoever killeth you will think that he offereth\nservice unto God.\" This was but a dreary prospect, and one to make each\nApostle hesitate, and in the privacy of his own thoughts consider\nwhether he should face a life so devoid of all that men naturally crave.\nTo live for great ends is no doubt animating, but to be compelled in\ndoing so to abandon all expectation of recognition, and to lay one's\naccount for abuse, poverty, persecution, calls for some heroism in him\nthat undertakes such a life. He forewarns them of this persecution, that\nwhen it comes they may not be taken aback and fancy that things are not\nfalling out with them as their Lord anticipated. And He offers them two\nstrong consolations which might uphold and animate them under all they\nshould be called upon to suffer.\n\nI. \"If the world hateth you, ye know that it hath hated Me before it\nhated you. If ye were of the world, the world would love its own; but\nbecause ye are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world,\ntherefore the world hateth you.\" Persecution is thus turned into a joy,\nbecause it is the testimony paid by the world to the disciples' identity\nwith Christ. The love of the world would be a sure evidence of their\nunfaithfulness to Christ and of their entire lack of resemblance to Him;\nbut its hate was the tribute it would pay to their likeness to Him and\nsuccessful promotion of His cause. They might well question their\nloyalty to Christ, if the world which had slain Him fawned upon them.\nThe Christian may conclude he is reckoned a helpless and harmless foe if\nhe suffers no persecution, if in no company he is frowned upon or felt\nto be uncongenial, if he is treated by the world as if its aims were his\naims and its spirit his spirit. No faithful follower of Christ who mixes\nwith society can escape every form of persecution. It is the seal which\nthe world puts on the choice of Christ. It is proof that a man's\nattachment to Christ and endeavour to forward His purposes have been\nrecognised by the world. Persecution, then, should be welcome as the\nworld's testimony to the disciple's identity with Christ.\n\nNo idea had fixed itself more deeply in the mind of John than this of\nthe identity of Christ and His people. As he brooded upon the life of\nChrist and sought to penetrate to the hidden meanings of all that\nappeared on the surface, he came to see that the unbelief and hatred\nwith which He was met was the necessary result of goodness presented to\nworldliness and selfishness. And as time went on he saw that the\nexperience of Christ was exceptional only in degree, that His experience\nwas and would be repeated in every one who sought to live in His Spirit\nand to do His will. The future of the Church accordingly presented\nitself to him as a history of conflict, of extreme cruelty on the part\nof the world and quiet conquering endurance on the part of Christ's\npeople. And it was this which he embodied in the Book of Revelation.\nThis book he wrote as a kind of detailed commentary on the passage\nbefore us, and in it he intended to depict the sufferings and final\nconquest of the Church. The one book is a reflex and supplement to the\nother; and as in the Gospel he had shown the unbelief and cruelty of the\nworld against Christ, so in the Revelation he shows in a series of\nstrongly coloured pictures how the Church of Christ would pass through\nthe same experience, would be persecuted as Christ was persecuted, but\nwould ultimately conquer. Both books are wrought out with extreme care\nand finished to the minutest detail, and both deal with the cardinal\nmatters of human history--sin, righteousness, and the final result of\ntheir conflict. Underneath all that appears on the surface in the life\nof the individual and in the history of the race there are just these\nabiding elements--sin and righteousness. It is the moral value of things\nwhich in the long run proves of consequence, the moral element which\nultimately determines all else.\n\nII. The second consolation and encouragement the Lord gave them was that\nthey would receive the aid of a powerful champion--_the_ Paraclete, the\none effectual, sufficient Helper. \"When the Paraclete is come, whom I\nwill send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which\nproceedeth from the Father, he shall bear witness of Me: and ye also\nbear witness, because ye have been with Me from the beginning.\"\nInevitably the disciples would argue that, if the words and works of\nJesus Himself had not broken down the unbelief of the world, it was not\nlikely that anything which they could say or do would have that effect.\nIf the impressive presence of Christ Himself had not attracted and\nconvinced all men, how was it possible that mere telling about what He\nhad said and done and been would convince them? And He has just been\nreminding them how little effect His own words and works had had. \"If I\nhad not come and spoken unto them, they had not had sin: ... if I had\nnot done among them the works which none other did, they had not had\nsin: but now have they both seen and hated both Me and My Father.\" What\npower, then, could break down this obstinate unbelief?\n\nOur Lord assures them that together with their witness-bearing there\nwill be an all-powerful witness--\"the Spirit of truth\"; one who could\nfind access to the hearts and minds to which they addressed themselves\nand carry truth home to conviction. It was on this account that it was\n\"expedient\" that their Lord should depart, and that His visible presence\nshould be superseded by the presence of the Spirit. It was necessary\nthat His death, resurrection, and ascension to the right hand of the\nFather should take place, in order that His supremacy might be secured.\nAnd in order that He might be everywhere and inwardly present with men,\nit was necessary that He should be visible nowhere on earth. The inward\nspiritual presence depended on the bodily absence.\n\nBefore passing to the specific contents of the Spirit's testimony, as\nstated in vv. 8-11, it is necessary to gather up what our Lord indicates\nregarding the Spirit Himself and His function in the Christian\ndispensation. First, the Spirit here spoken of is a personal existence.\nThroughout all that our Lord says in this last conversation regarding\nthe Spirit personal epithets are applied to Him, and the actions\nascribed to Him are personal actions. He is to be the substitute of the\nmost marked and influential Personality with whom the disciples had ever\nbeen brought in contact. He is to supply His vacated place. He is to be\nto the disciples as friendly and staunch an ally and a more constantly\npresent and efficient teacher than Christ Himself. What as yet was not\nin their minds He was to impart to them; and He was to mediate and\nmaintain communication between the absent Lord and themselves. Was it\npossible that the disciples should think of the Spirit otherwise than as\na conscious and energetic Person when they heard Him spoken of in such\nwords as these: \"Howbeit when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He shall\nguide you into all the truth: for He shall not speak from Himself; but\nwhat things soever He shall hear, these shall He speak: and He shall\ndeclare unto you the things that are to come. He shall glorify Me: for\nHe shall take of Mine, and shall declare it unto you\"? From these words\nit would seem as if the disciples were justified in expecting the\npresence and aid of One who was very closely related to their Lord, but\nyet distinct from Him, who could understand their state of mind and\nadapt Himself to them, who is not identical with the Master they are\nlosing, and yet comes into still closer contact with them. What\nunderlies this, and what is the very nature of the Spirit and His\nrelation to the Father and the Son, we do not know; but our Lord chose\nthese expressions which to our thought involve personality because this\nis the truest and safest form under which we can now conceive of the\nSpirit.\n\nThe function for the discharge of which this Spirit is necessary is the\n\"glorification\" of Christ. Without Him the manifestation of Christ will\nbe lost. He is needed to secure that the world be brought into contact\nwith Christ, and that men recognise and use Him. This is the most\ngeneral and comprehensive aspect of the Spirit's work: \"He shall glorify\nMe\" (ver. 14). In making this announcement our Lord assumes that\nposition of commanding importance with which this Gospel has made us\nfamiliar. The Divine Spirit is to be sent forth, and the direct object\nof His mission is the glorifying of Christ. The meaning of Christ's\nmanifestation is the essential thing for men to understand. In\nmanifesting Himself He has revealed the Father. He has in His own person\nshown what a Divine nature is; and therefore in order to His\nglorification all that is required is that light be shed upon what He\nhas done and been, and that the eyes of men be opened to see Him and His\nwork. The recognition of Christ and of God in Him is the blessedness of\nthe human race; and to bring this about is the function of the Spirit.\nAs Jesus Himself had constantly presented Himself as the revealer of the\nFather and as speaking His words, so, in \"a rivalry of Divine humility,\"\nthe Spirit glorifies the Son and speaks \"what He shall hear.\"\n\nTo discharge this function a twofold ministry is undertaken by the\nSpirit: He must enlighten the Apostles, and He must convince the world.\n\nHe must enlighten the Apostles. From the nature of the case much had to\nbe left unsaid by Christ. But this would not prevent the Apostles from\nunderstanding what Christ had done, and what applications His work had\nto themselves and their fellow-men. \"I have yet many things to say unto\nyou, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit when He, the Spirit of truth,\nis come, He will guide you into all the truth.\" A great untravelled\ncountry lay before them. Their Master had led them across its border,\nand set their faces in the right direction; but who was to find a way\nfor them through all its intricacies and perplexities? The Spirit of\ntruth, He who is Himself perfect knowledge and absolute light, \"will\nguide you\"; He will go before you and show you your way.[18] There may\nbe no sudden impartation of truth, no lifting of the mist that hangs on\nthe horizon, no consciousness that now you have mastered all\ndifficulties and can see your way to the end; there may be no violation\nof the natural and difficult processes by which men arrive at truth; the\nroad may be slow, and sometimes there may even be an appearance of\nignominious defeat by those who use swifter but more precarious means of\nadvance; much will depend on your own patience and wakefulness and\ndocility; but if you admit the Spirit, He will guide you into all the\ntruth.\n\nThis promise does not involve that the Apostles, and through them all\ndisciples, should know everything. \"All the truth\" is relative to the\nsubject taught. All that they need to know regarding Christ and His work\nfor them they will learn. All that is needed to glorify Christ, to\nenable men to recognise Him as the manifestation of God, will be\nimparted. To the truth which the Apostles learn, therefore, nothing need\nbe added. Nothing essential has been added. Time has now been given to\ntest this promise, and what time has shown is this--that while libraries\nhave been written on what the Apostles thought and taught, their\nteaching remains as the sufficient guide into all the truth regarding\nChrist. Even in non-essentials it is marvellous how little has been\nadded. Many corrections of misapprehensions of their meaning have been\nrequired, much laborious inquiry to ascertain precisely what they meant,\nmuch elaborate inference and many buildings upon their foundations; but\nin their teaching there remain a freshness and a living force which\nsurvive all else that has been written upon Christ and His religion.\n\nThis instruction of the Apostles by the Spirit was to recall to their\nminds what Christ Himself had said, and was also to show them things to\ncome. The changed point of view introduced by the dispensation of the\nSpirit and the abolition of earthly hopes would cause many of the\nsayings of Jesus which they had disregarded and considered\nunintelligible to spring into high relief and ray out significance,\nwhile the future also would shape itself quite differently in their\nconception. And the Teacher who should superintend and inspire this\naltered attitude of mind is the Spirit.[19]\n\nNot only must the Spirit enlighten the Apostles; He must also convince\nthe world. \"He shall bear witness of Me,\" and by His witness-bearing the\ntestimony of the Apostles would become efficacious. They had a natural\nfitness to witness about Christ, \"because they had been with Him from\nthe beginning.\" No more trustworthy witnesses regarding what Christ had\nsaid or done or been could be called than those men with whom He had\nlived on terms of intimacy. No men could more certainly testify to the\nidentity of the risen Lord. But the significance of the facts they spoke\nof could best be taught by the Spirit. The very fact of the Spirit's\npresence was the greatest evidence that the Lord had risen and was using\n\"all power in heaven\" in behalf of men. And possibly it was to this\nPeter referred when he said: \"We are His witnesses of these things; and\nso is also the Holy Ghost, whom God hath given to them that obey Him.\"\nCertainly the gifts of the Holy Ghost, the power to speak with tongues\nor to work miracles of healing, were accepted by the primitive Church as\na seal of the Apostolic word and as the appropriate evidence of the\npower of the risen Christ.\n\nBut it is apparent from our Lord's description of the subject-matter of\nthe Spirit's witness that here He has especially in view the function of\nthe Spirit as an inward teacher and strengthener of the moral powers. He\nis the fellow-witness of the Apostles, mainly and permanently, by\nenlightening men in the significance of the facts reported by them, and\nby opening the heart and conscience to their influence.\n\nThe subject-matter of the Spirit's testimony is threefold: \"He will\nconvict the world in respect of sin, and of righteousness, and of\njudgment.\"\n\nI. He should convict the world of sin. No conviction cuts so deeply and\nproduces results of such magnitude as the conviction of sin. It is like\nsubsoil ploughing: it turns up soil that nothing else has got down to.\nIt alters entirely a man's attitude towards life. He cannot know himself\na sinner and be satisfied with that condition. This awakening is like\nthe waking of one who has been buried in a trance, who wakes to find\nhimself bound round with grave-clothes, hemmed in with all the insignia\nof corruption, terror and revulsion distracting and overwhelming his\nsoul. In spirit he has been far away, weaving perhaps a paradise out of\nhis fancies, peopling it with choice and happy society, and living\nthrough scenes of gorgeous beauty and comfort in fulness of interest and\nlife and felicity; but suddenly comes the waking, a few brief moments of\npainful struggle and the dream gives place to the reality, and then\ncomes the certain accumulation of misery till the spirit breaks beneath\nits fear. So does the strongest heart groan and break when it wakes to\nthe full reality of sin, when the Spirit of Christ takes the veil from a\nman's eyes and gives him to see what this world is and what he has been\nin it, when the shadows that have occupied him flee away and the naked\ninevitable reality confronts him.\n\nNothing is more overwhelming than this conviction, but nothing is more\nhopeful. Given a man who is alive to the evil of sin and who begins to\nunderstand his errors, and you know some good will come of that. Given a\nman who sees the importance of being in accord with perfect goodness and\nwho feels the degradation of sin, and you have the germ of all good in\nthat man. But how were the Apostles to produce this? how were they to\ndispel those mists which blurred the clear outline of good and evil, to\nbring to the self-righteous Pharisee and the indifferent and worldly\nSadducee a sense of their own sin? What instrument is there which can\nintroduce to every human heart, howsoever armoured and fenced round,\nthis healthy revolution? Looking at men as they actually are, and\nconsidering how many forces are banded together to exclude the knowledge\nof sin, how worldly interest demands that no brand shall be affixed to\nthis and that action, how the customs we are brought up in require us to\ntake a lenient view of this and that immorality, how we deceive\nourselves by sacrificing sins we do not care for in order to retain sins\nthat are in our blood, how the resistance of certain sins makes us a\nprey to self-righteousness and delusion--considering what we have learnt\nof the placidity with which men content themselves with a life they know\nis not the highest, does there seem to be any instrument by which a true\nand humbling sense of sin can be introduced to the mind?\n\nChrist, knowing that men were about to put Him to death because He had\ntried to convict them of sin, confidently predicts that His servants\nwould by His Spirit's aid convince the world of sin and of this in\nparticular--that they had not believed in Him. That very death which\nchiefly exhibits human sin has, in fact, become the chief instrument in\nmaking men understand and hate sin. There is no consideration from which\nthe deceitfulness of sin will not escape, nor any fear which the\nrecklessness of sin will not brave, nor any authority which self-will\ncannot override but only this: Christ has died for me, to save me from\nmy sin, and I am sinning still, not regarding His blood, not meeting His\npurpose. It was when the greatness and the goodness of Christ were\ntogether let in to Peter's mind that he fell on his face before Him,\nsaying, \"Depart from me, O Lord, for I am a sinful man.\" And the\nexperience of thousands is recorded in that more recent confession:\n\n    \"In evil long I took delight, unawed by shame or fear,\n    Till a new object struck my sight and stopped my wild career:\n    I saw One hanging on a tree in agonies and blood.\n    Who fixed His languid eyes on me as near His cross I stood.\n    Sure never till my latest breath can I forget that look;\n    It seemed to charge me with His death, though not a word He spoke.\"\n\nOf other convictions we may get rid; the consequences of sin we may\nbrave, or we may disbelieve that in our case sin will produce any very\ndisastrous fruits; but in the death of Christ we see, not what sin may\npossibly do in the future, but what it actually has done in the past. In\npresence of the death of Christ we cannot any longer make a mock of sin\nor think lightly of it, as if it were on our own responsibility and at\nour own risk we sinned.\n\nBut not only does the death of Christ exhibit the intricate connections\nof our sin with other persons and the grievous consequence of sin in\ngeneral, but also it exhibits the enormity of this particular sin of\nrejecting Christ. \"He will convince the world of sin, _because they\nbelieve not on Me_.\" It was this sin in point of fact which cut to the\nheart the crowd at Jerusalem first addressed by Peter. Peter had nothing\nto say of their looseness of life, of their worldliness, of their\ncovetousness: he did not go into particulars of conduct calculated to\nbring a blush to their cheeks; he took up but one point, and by a few\nconvincing remarks showed them the enormity of crucifying the Lord of\nglory. The lips which a few days before had cried out \"Crucify Him,\ncrucify Him!\" now cried, Men and brethren, what shall we do, how escape\nfrom the crushing condemnation of mistaking God's image for a criminal?\nIn that hour Christ's words were fulfilled; they were convinced of sin\nbecause they believed not on Him.\n\nThis is ever the damning sin--to be in presence of goodness and not to\nlove it, to see Christ and to see Him with unmoved and unloving hearts,\nto hear His call without response, to recognise the beauty of holiness\nand yet turn away to lust and self and the world. This is the\ncondemnation--that light is come into the world and we have loved\ndarkness rather than the light. \"If I had not come and spoken unto\nthem, they had not had sin: but now they have no cloke for their sin. He\nthat hateth Me, hateth My Father also.\" To turn away from Christ is to\nturn away from absolute goodness. It is to show that however much we may\nrelish certain virtues and approve particular forms of goodness,\ngoodness absolute and complete does not attract us.\n\nII. The conviction of righteousness is the complement, the other half,\nof the conviction of sin. In the shame of guilt there is the germ of the\nconviction of righteousness. The sense of guilt is but the\nacknowledgment that we ought to be righteous. No guilt attaches to the\nincapable. The sting of guilt is poisoned with the knowledge that we\nwere capable of better things. Conscience exclaims against all excuses\nthat would lull us into the idea that sin is insuperable, and that there\nis nothing better for us than a moderately sinful life. When conscience\nceases to condemn, hope dies. A mist rises from sin that obscures the\nclear outline between its own domain and that of righteousness, like the\nmist that rises from the sea and mingles shore and water in one\nundefined cloud. But let it rise off the one and the other is at once\ndistinctly marked out; and so in the conviction of sin there is already\ninvolved the conviction of righteousness. The blush of shame that\nsuffuses the face of the sinner as the mist-dispelling Sun of\nrighteousness arises upon him is the morning flush and promise of an\neverlasting day of righteous living.\n\nFor each of us it is of the utmost importance to have a fixed and\nintelligent persuasion that righteousness is what we are made for. The\nrighteous Lord loveth righteousness and made us in His image to widen\nthe joy of rational creatures. He waits for righteousness and cannot\naccept sin as an equally grateful fruit of men's lives. And though in\nthe main perhaps our faces are turned towards righteousness, and we are\non the whole dissatisfied and ashamed of sin, yet the conviction of\nrighteousness has much to struggle against in us all. Sin, we\nunconsciously plead, is so finely interwoven with all the ways of the\nworld that it is impossible to live wholly free from it. As well cast a\nsponge into the water and command that it absorb none nor sink as put me\nin the world and command that I do not admit its influences or sink to\nits level. It presses in on me through all my instincts and appetites\nand hopes and fears; it washes ceaselessly at the gateways of my senses,\nso that one unguarded moment and the torrent bursts in on me and pours\nover my wasted bulwarks, resolves, high aims, and whatever else. It is\nsurely not now and here that I am expected to do more than learn the\nrudiments of righteous living and make small experiments in it;\nendeavours will surely stand for accomplishment, and pious purposes in\nplace of heroic action and positive righteousness. Men take sin for\ngranted and lay their account for it. Will not God also, who remembers\nour frailty, consider the circumstances and count sin a matter of\ncourse? Such thoughts haunt and weaken us; but every man whose heart is\ntouched by the Spirit of God clings to this as his hopeful prayer:\n\"Teach me to do Thy will, for Thou art my God: Thy Spirit is good; lead\nme into the land of uprightness.\"\n\nBut, after all, it is by fact men are convinced; and were there no facts\nto appeal to in this matter conviction could not be attained. It does\nseem that we are made for righteousness, but sin is in this world so\nuniversal that there must surely be some way of accounting for it which\nshall also excuse it. Had righteousness been to be our life, surely some\nfew would have attained it. There must be some necessity of sin, some\nimpossibility of attaining perfect righteousness, and therefore we need\nnot seek it. Here comes in the proof our Lord speaks of: \"The Spirit\nwill convince of righteousness, because I go to the Father.\"\nRighteousness has been attained. There has lived One, bone of our bone,\nand flesh of our flesh, tempted in all points like as we are, open to\nthe same ambitious views of life, growing up with the same appetites and\nas sensitive to bodily pleasure and bodily pain, feeling as keenly the\nneglect and hatred of men, and from the very size of His nature and\nwidth of His sympathy tempted in a thousand ways we are safe from, and\nyet in no instance confounding right and wrong, in no instance falling\nfrom perfect harmony with the Divine will to self-will and self-seeking;\nnever deferring the commandments of God to some other sphere or waiting\nfor holier times; never forgetting and never renouncing the purpose of\nGod in His life; but at all times, in weariness and lassitude, in\npersonal danger and in domestic comfort, putting Himself as a perfect\ninstrument into God's hand, ready at all cost to Himself to do the\nFather's will. Here was One who not only recognised that men are made to\nwork together with God, but who actually did so work; who not only\napproved, as we all approve, of a life of holiness and sacrifice, but\nactually lived it; who did not think the trial too great, the privation\nand risk too dreadful, the self-effacement too humbling; but who met\nlife with all it brings to all of us--its conflict, its interests, its\nopportunities, its allurements, its snares, its hazards. But while out\nof this material we fail to make a perfect life, He by His integrity of\npurpose and devotedness and love of good fashioned a perfect life. Thus\nHe simply by living accomplished what the law with its commands and\nthreats had not accomplished: He condemned sin in the flesh.\n\nBut it was open to those whom the Apostles addressed to deny that Jesus\nhad thus lived; and therefore the conviction of righteousness is\ncompleted by the evidence of the resurrection and ascension of Christ.\n\"Of righteousness, because I go to My Father, and ye see Me no more.\"\nWithout holiness no man shall see God. It was this that the Apostles\nappealed to when first moved to address their fellow-men and proclaim\nChrist as the Saviour. It was to His resurrection they confidently\nappealed as evidence of the truth of His claim to have been sent of God.\nThe Jews had put Him to death as a deceiver; but God proclaimed His\nrighteousness by raising Him from the dead. \"Ye denied the Holy One and\nthe Just, and desired a murderer to be granted unto you, and killed the\nPrince of life whom God hath raised from the dead, whereof we are\nwitnesses.\"\n\nProbably, however, another idea underlies the words \"because I go to My\nFather, and ye see Me no more.\" So long as Christ was on earth the Jews\nbelieved that Jesus and His followers were plotting a revolution: when\nHe was removed beyond sight such a suspicion became ludicrous. But when\nHis disciples could no longer see Him, they continued to serve Him and\nto strive with greater zeal than ever to promote His cause. Slowly then\nit dawned on men's minds that righteousness was what Christ and His\nApostles alone desired and sought to establish on earth. This new\nspectacle of men devoting their lives to the advancement of\nrighteousness, and confident they could establish a kingdom of\nrighteousness and actually establishing it--this spectacle penetrated\nmen's minds, and gave them a new sense of the value of righteousness,\nand quite a new conviction of the possibility of attaining it.\n\nIII. The third conviction by which the Apostles were to prevail in their\npreaching of Christ was the conviction \"of judgment, because the prince\nof this world is judged.\" Men were to be persuaded that a distinction is\nmade between sin and righteousness, that in no case can sin pass for\nrighteousness and righteousness for sin. The world that has worldly ends\nin view and works towards them by appropriate means, disregarding moral\ndistinctions, will be convicted of enormous error. The Spirit of truth\nwill work in men's minds the conviction that all and every sin is\nmistake and productive of nothing good, and can in no instance\naccomplish what righteousness would have accomplished. Men will find,\nwhen truth shines in their spirit, that they have not to await a great\nday of judgment in the end, when the good results of sin shall be\nreversed and reward allotted to those who have done righteously, but\nthat judgment is a constant and universal element in God's government\nand to be found everywhere throughout it, distinguishing between sin and\nrighteousness in every present instance, and never for one moment\nallowing to sin the value or the results which only righteousness has.\nIn the minds of men who have been using the world's unrighteous methods\nand living for the world's selfish ends, the conviction is to be wrought\nthat no good can come of all that--that sin is sin and not valid for any\ngood purpose. Men are to recognise that a distinction is made between\nhuman actions, and that condemnation is pronounced on all that are\nsinful.\n\nAnd this conviction is to be wrought in the light of the fact that in\nChrist's victory the prince of this world is judged. The powers by which\nthe world is actually led are seen to be productive of evil, and not the\npowers by which men can permanently be led or should at any time have\nbeen led. The prince of this world was judged by Christ's refusal\nthroughout His life to be in anything guided by him. The motives by\nwhich the world is led were not Christ's motives.\n\nBut it is in the death of Christ the prince of this world was especially\njudged. That death was brought about by the world's opposition to\nunworldliness. Had the world been seeking spiritual beauty and\nprosperity, Christ would not have been crucified. He was crucified\nbecause the world was seeking material gain and worldly glory, and was\nthereby blinded to the highest form of goodness. And unquestionably the\nvery fact that worldliness led to this treatment of Christ is its most\ndecided condemnation. We cannot think highly of principles and\ndispositions which so blind men to the highest form of human goodness\nand lead them to actions so unreasonable and wicked. As an individual\nwill often commit one action which illustrates his whole character, and\nflashes sudden light into the hidden parts of it, and discloses its\ncapabilities and possible results, so the world has in this one act\nshown what worldliness essentially is and at all times is capable of. No\nstronger condemnation of the influences which move worldly men can be\nfound than the crucifixion of Christ.\n\nBut, besides, the death of Christ exhibits in so touching a form the\nlargeness and power of spiritual beauty, and brings so vividly home to\nthe heart the charm of holiness and love, that here more than anywhere\nelse do men learn to esteem beauty of character and holiness and love\nmore than all the world can yield them. We feel that to be wholly out of\nsympathy with the qualities and ideas manifested in the Cross would be a\npitiable condition. We adopt as our ideal the kind of glory there\nrevealed, and in our hearts condemn the opposed style of conduct that\nthe world leads to. As we open our understanding and conscience to the\nmeaning of Christ's love and sacrifice and devotedness to God's will,\nthe prince of this world is judged and condemned within us. We feel that\nto yield to the powers that move and guide the world is impossible for\nus, and that we must give ourselves to this Prince of holiness and\nspiritual glory.\n\nIn point of fact the world is judged. To adhere to worldly motives and\nways and ambitions is to cling to a sinking ship, to throw ourselves\naway on a justly doomed cause. The world may trick itself out in what\ndelusive splendours it may; it is judged all the same, and men who are\ndeluded by it and still in one way or other acknowledge the prince of\nthis world destroy themselves and lose the future.\n\nSuch was the promise of Christ to His disciples. Is it fulfilled in us?\nWe may have witnessed in others the entrance and operation of\nconvictions which to all appearance correspond with those here\ndescribed. We may even have been instrumental in producing these\nconvictions. But a lens of ice will act as a burning-glass, and itself\nunmelted will fire the tinder to which it transmits the rays. And\nperhaps we may be able to say with much greater confidence that we have\ndone good than that we are good. Convinced of sin we may be, and\nconvinced of righteousness we may be--so far at least as to feel most\nkeenly that the distinction between sin and righteousness is real, wide,\nand of eternal consequence--but is the prince of this world judged? has\nthe power that claims us as the servants of sin and mocks our strivings\nafter righteousness been, so far as we can judge from our own\nexperience, defeated? For this is the final test of religion, of our\nfaith in Christ, of the truth of His words and the efficacy of His work.\nDoes He accomplish in me what He promised?\n\nNow, when we begin to doubt the efficacy of the Christian method on\naccount of its apparent failure in our own case, when we see quite\nclearly how it ought to work and as clearly that it has not worked, when\nthis and that turns up in our life and proves beyond controversy that we\nare ruled by much the same motives and desires as the world at large,\ntwo subjects of reflection present themselves. First, have we remembered\nthe word of Christ, \"The servant is not greater than his Lord\"? Are we\nso anxious to be His servants that we would willingly sacrifice whatever\nstood in the way of our serving Him? Are we content to be as He was in\nthe world? There are always many in the Christian Church who are, first,\nmen of the world, and, secondly, varnished with Christianity; who do not\nseek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness; who do not yet\nunderstand that the _whole_ of life must be consecrated to Christ and\nspring from His will, and who therefore without compunction do make\nthemselves greater in every worldly respect than their professed Lord.\nThere are also many in the Christian Church at all times who decline to\nmake more of this world than Christ Himself did, and whose constant\nstudy it is to put all they have at His disposal. Now, we cannot too\nseriously inquire to which of these classes we belong. Are we making a\n_bona-fide_ thing of our attachment to Christ? Do we feel it in every\npart of our life? Do we strive, not to minimise our service and His\nclaims, but to be wholly His? Have His words, \"The servant is not\ngreater than his Lord,\" any meaning to us at all? Is His service truly\nthe main thing we seek in life? I say we should seriously inquire if\nthis is so; for not hereafter, but now, are we finally determining our\nrelation to all things by our relation to Christ.\n\nBut, secondly, we must beware of disheartening ourselves by hastily\nconcluding that in our case Christ's grace has failed. If we may accept\nthe Book of Revelation as a true picture, not merely of the conflict of\nthe Church, but also of the conflict of the individual, then only in the\nend can we look for quiet and achieved victory--only in the closing\nchapters does conflict cease and victory seem no more doubtful. If it is\nto be so with us, the fact of our losing some of the battles must not\ndiscourage us from continuing the campaign. Nothing is more painful and\nhumbling than to find ourselves falling into unmistakable sin after much\nconcernment with Christ and His grace; but the very resentment we feel\nand the deep and bitter humiliation must be used as incentive to further\neffort, and must not be allowed to sound permanent defeat and surrender\nto sin.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[18] =hodegesei=.\n\n[19] Godet says: \"The saying xiv. 26 gives the formula of the\ninspiration of our Gospels; ver. 13 gives that of the inspiration of the\nEpistles and the Apocalypse.\"\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\n_LAST WORDS._\n\n\n    \"A little while, and ye behold Me no more; and again a little while,\n    and ye shall see Me. Some of His disciples therefore said one to\n    another, What is this that He saith unto us, A little while, and ye\n    behold Me not; and again a little while, and ye shall see Me: and,\n    Because I go to the Father? They said therefore, What is this that\n    He saith, A little while? We know not what He saith. Jesus perceived\n    that they were desirous to ask Him, and He said unto them, Do ye\n    inquire among yourselves concerning this, that I said, A little\n    while, and ye behold Me not, and again a little while, and ye shall\n    see Me? Verily, verily, I say unto you, that ye shall weep and\n    lament, but the world shall rejoice: ye shall be sorrowful, but your\n    sorrow shall be turned into joy. A woman when she is in travail hath\n    sorrow, because her hour is come: but when she is delivered of the\n    child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for the joy that a man\n    is born into the world. And ye therefore now have sorrow: but I will\n    see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no one\n    taketh away from you. And in that day ye shall ask Me nothing.\n    Verily, verily, I say unto you, If ye shall ask anything of the\n    Father, He will give it you in My name. Hitherto have ye asked\n    nothing in My name: ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be\n    fulfilled. These things have I spoken unto you in proverbs: the hour\n    cometh, when I shall no more speak unto you in proverbs, but shall\n    tell you plainly of the Father. In that day ye shall ask in My name:\n    and I say not unto you, that I will pray the Father for you; for the\n    Father Himself loveth you, because ye have loved Me, and have\n    believed that I came forth from the Father. I came out from the\n    Father, and am come into the world: again, I leave the world, and go\n    unto the Father. His disciples say, Lo, now speakest Thou plainly,\n    and speakest no proverb. Now know we that Thou knowest all things,\n    and needest not that any man should ask Thee: by this we believe\n    that Thou camest forth from God. Jesus answered them, Do ye now\n    believe? Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is come, that ye shall be\n    scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave Me alone: and yet I\n    am not alone, because the Father is with Me. These things have I\n    spoken unto you, that in Me ye may have peace. In the world ye have\n    tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.\"--JOHN\n    xvi. 16-33.\n\n\nIn the intercourse of Jesus with His disciples He at all times showed\none of the most delightful qualities of a friend--a quick and perfect\napprehension of what was passing in their mind. They did not require to\nbring their mental condition before Him by laboured explanations. He\nknew what was in man, and He especially knew what was in them. He could\nforecast the precise impression which His announcements would make upon\nthem, the doubts and the expectations they would give rise to. Sometimes\nthey were surprised at this insight, always they profited by it. In\nfact, on more occasions than one this insight convinced them that Jesus\nhad this clear knowledge of men given to Him that He might effectually\ndeal with all men. It seemed to them, as of course it is, one of the\nessential equipments of One who is to be a real centre for the whole\nrace and to bring help to each and all men. How could a person who was\ndeficient in this universal sympathy and practical understanding of the\nvery thoughts of each of us offer himself as our helper? There is\ntherefore evidence in the life of Jesus that He was never non-plussed,\nnever at a loss to understand the kind of man He had to do with. There\nis evidence of this, and it would seem that we all receive this\nevidence; for are we not conscious that our spiritual condition is\nunderstood, our thoughts traced, our difficulties sympathised with? We\nmay feel very unlike many prominent Christians; we may have no sympathy\nwith a great deal that passes for Christian sentiment; but Christ's\nsympathy is universal, and nothing human comes wrong to Him. Begin with\nHim as you are, without professing to be, though hoping to be, different\nfrom what you are, and by the growth of your own spirit in the sunshine\nof His presence and under the guidance of His intelligent sympathy your\ndoubts will pass away, your ungodliness be renounced. He is offered for\nyour help as the essential condition of your progress and your growth.\n\nSeeing the perplexity which certain of His expressions had created in\nthe minds of His disciples, He proceeds to remove it. They had great\nneed of hopefulness and courage, and He sought to inspire them with\nthese qualities. They were on the edge of a most bitter experience, and\nit was of untold consequence that they should be upheld in it. He does\nnot hide from them the coming distress, but He reminds them that very\ncommonly pain and anxiety accompany the birth-throes of a new life; and\nif they found themselves shortly in depression and grief which seemed\ninconsolable, they were to believe that this was the path to a new and\nhigher phase of existence and to a joy that would be lasting. Your\ngrief, He says, will shortly end: your joy never. Your grief will soon\nbe taken away: your joy no one shall take away. When Christ rose again,\nthe disciples remembered and understood these words; and a few chapters\nfurther on we find John returning upon the word and saying, \"When they\nsaw the Lord, they were glad,\"--they had this _joy_. It was a joy to\nthem, because love for Christ and hope in Him were their dominant\nfeelings. They had the joy of having their Friend again, of seeing Him\nvictorious and proved to be all and more than they had believed. They\nhad the first glowing visions of a new world for which the preparation\nwas the life and resurrection of the Son of God. What were they not\nprepared to hope for as the result of the immeasurably great things they\nhad themselves seen and known? It was a mere question now of Christ's\nwill: of His power they were assured.\n\nThe resurrection of Christ was, however, meant to bring lasting joy, not\nto these men only, but to all. These greatest of all events, the descent\nto earth of the Son of God with all Divine power and love, and His\nresurrection as the conqueror of all that bars the path of men from a\nlife of light and joy, became solid facts in this world's history, that\nall men might calculate their future by such a past, and might each for\nhimself conclude that a future of which such events are the preparation\nmust be great and happy indeed. Death, if not in all respects the most\ndesolating, is the most certain of all human ills. Anguish and mourning\nit has brought and will bring to many human hearts. Do what we will we\ncannot save our friends from it; by us it is unconquerable. Yet it is in\nthis most calamitous of human ills God has shown His nearness and His\nlove. It is to the death of Christ men look to see the full brightness\nof God's fatherly love. It is this darkest point of human experience\nthat God has chosen to irradiate with His absorbing glory. Death is at\nonce our gravest fear and the spring of our hope; it cuts short human\nintercourse, but in the cross of Christ it gives us a never-failing,\ndivinely loving Friend. The death of Christ is the great compensation\nof all the ill that death has brought into human life; and when we see\ndeath made the medium of God's clearest manifestation, we are almost\ngrateful to it for affording material for an exhibition of God's love\nwhich transforms all our own life and all our own hopes.\n\nLasting joy is the condition in which God desires us to be, and He has\ngiven us cause of joy. In Christ's victory we see all that is needed to\ngive us hopefulness about the future. Each man finds for himself\nassurance of God's interest in us and in our actual condition: assurance\nthat whatever is needful to secure for us a happy eternity has been\ndone; assurance that in a new heavens and a new earth we shall find\nlasting satisfaction. This true, permanent, all-embracing joy is open to\nall, and is actually enjoyed by those who have something of Christ's\nSpirit, whose chief desire is to see holiness prevail and to keep\nthemselves and others in harmony with God. To such the accomplishment of\nGod's will seems a certainty, and they have learned that the\naccomplishment of that will means good to them and to all who love God.\nThe holiness and harmony with God that win this joy are parts of it. To\nbe the friends of Christ, imbued with His views of life and of God, this\nfrom first to last is a thing of joy.\n\nThat which the disciples at length believed and felt to be the\nculmination of their faith was that Jesus had come forth from God. He\nHimself more fully expresses what He desired them to believe about Him\nin the words: \"I came forth from the Father, and am come into the world:\nagain I leave the world, and go to the Father.\" No doubt there is a\nsense in which any man may use this language of himself. We can all\ntruthfully say we came forth from God and came into the world; and we\npass out from the world and return to God. But that the disciples did\nnot understand the words in this sense is obvious from the difficulty\nthey found in reaching this belief. Had Jesus merely meant that it was\ntrue of Him, as of all others, that God is the great existence out of\nwhom we spring and to whom we return, the disciples could have found no\ndifficulty and the Jews must all have believed in Him. In some special\nand exceptional sense, then, He came forth from God. What, then, was\nthis sense?\n\nWhen Nicodemus came to Jesus, he addressed Him as a teacher \"come from\nGod,\" because, he added, \"no man can do these miracles which Thou doest\nexcept God be with Him.\" In Nicodemus' lips, therefore, the words \"a\nteacher come from God\" meant a teacher with a Divine mission and\ncredentials. In this sense all the prophets were teachers \"come from\nGod.\" And accordingly many careful readers of the Gospels believe that\nnothing more than this is meant by any of those expressions our Lord\nuses of Himself, as \"sent from God,\" \"come forth from God,\" and so on.\nThe only distinction, it is supposed, between Christ and other prophets\nis that He is more highly endowed, is commissioned and equipped as God's\nrepresentative in a more perfect degree than Moses or Samuel or Elijah.\nHe had their power to work miracles, their authority in teaching; but\nhaving a more important mission to accomplish, He had this power and\nauthority more fully. Now, it is quite certain that some of the\nexpressions which a careless reader might think conclusive in proof of\nChrist's divinity were not intended to express anything more than that\nHe was God's commissioner. Indeed, it is remarkable how He Himself seems\nto wish men to believe this above all else--that He was sent by God. In\nreading the Gospel of John one is tempted to say that Jesus almost\nintentionally avoids affirming His divinity explicitly and directly when\nthere seemed opportunity to do so. Certainly His main purpose was to\nreveal the Father, to bring men to understand that His teaching about\nGod was true, and that He was sent by God.\n\nThere are, however, some expressions which unquestionably affirm\nChrist's pre-existence, and convince us that before He appeared in this\nworld He lived with God. And among these expressions the words He uses\nin this passage hold a place: \"I came forth from the Father, and am come\ninto the world: again, I leave the world, and go to the Father.\" These\nwords, the disciples felt, lifted a veil from their eyes; they told Him\nat once that they found an explicitness in this utterance which had been\na-wanting in others. And, indeed, nothing could be more explicit: the\ntwo parts of the sentence balance and interpret one another. \"I leave\nthe world, and go to the Father,\" interprets \"I came forth from the\nFather, and am come into the world.\" To say \"I leave the world\" is not\nthe same as to say \"I go to the Father\": this second clause describes a\nstate of existence which is entered upon when existence in this world is\ndone. And to say \"I came forth from the Father\" is not the same as to\nsay \"I came into the world\"; it describes a state of existence\nantecedent to that which began by coming into the world.\n\nThus the Apostles understood the words, and felt therefore that they had\ngained a new platform of faith. This they felt to be plain-speaking,\nmeant to be understood. It so precisely met their craving and gave them\nthe knowledge they sought, that they felt more than ever Christ's\ninsight into their state of mind and His power to satisfy their minds.\nAt length they are able to say with assurance that He has come forth\nfrom God. They are persuaded that behind what they see there is a higher\nnature, and that in Christ's presence they are in the presence of One\nwhose origin is not of this world. It was this pre-existence of Christ\nwith God which gave the disciples assurance regarding all He taught\nthem. He spoke of what He had seen with the Father.\n\nThis belief, however, assured though it was, did not save them from a\ncowardly desertion of Him whom they believed to be God's representative\non earth. They would, when confronted with the world's authorities and\npowers, abandon their Master to His fate, and \"would leave Him alone.\"\nHe had always, indeed, been alone. All men who wish to carry out some\nnovel design or accomplish some extensive reform must be prepared to\nstand alone, to listen unmoved to criticism, to estimate at their real\nand very low value the prejudiced calumnies of those whose interests are\nopposed to their design. They must be prepared to live without reward\nand without sympathy, strong in the consciousness of their own rectitude\nand that God will prosper the right. Jesus enjoyed the affection of a\nconsiderable circle of friends; He was not without the comfort and\nstrength which come of being believed in; but in regard to His purpose\nin life He was always alone. And yet, unless He won men over to His\nviews, unless He made some as ardent as Himself regarding them, His work\nwas lost. This was the special hardship of Christ's solitariness. Those\nwhom He had gathered were to desert Him in the critical hour; but the\nsore part of this desertion was that they were to go \"each to his\nown\"--oblivious, that is to say, of the great cause in which they had\nembarked with Christ.\n\nAt all times this is the problem Christ has to solve: how to prevail\nupon men to look at life from His point of view, to forget their own\nthings and combine with Him, to be as enamoured of His cause as He\nHimself is. He looks now upon us with our honest professions of faith\nand growing regard, and He says: Yes, you believe; but you scatter each\nto his own at the slightest breath of danger or temptation. This\nscattering, each to his own, is that which thwarts Christ's purpose and\nimperils His work. The world with its enterprises and its gains, its\nglitter and its glory, its sufficiency for the present life, comes in\nand tempts us; and apart from the common good, we have each our private\nschemes of advantage. And yet there is nothing more certain than that\nour ultimate advantage is measured by the measure in which we throw in\nour lot with Christ--by the measure in which we practically recognise\nthat there is an object for which all men in common can work, and that\nto scatter \"each to his own\" is to resign the one best hope of life, the\none satisfying and remunerative labour.\n\nIn revealing what sustained Himself Christ reveals the true stay of\nevery soul of man. His trial was indeed severe. Brought without a single\nfriend to the bar of unsympathetic and unscrupulous judges: the Friend\nof man, loving as no other has ever loved, and craving love and sympathy\nas no other has craved it, yet standing without one pitying eye, without\none voice raised in His favour. Alone in a world He came to convince and\nto win; at the end of His life, spent in winning men, left without one\nto say He had not lived in vain; abandoned to enemies, to ignorant,\ncruel, profane men. He was dragged through the streets where He had\nspoken words of life and healed the sick, but no rescue was attempted.\nSo outcast from all human consideration was He, that a Barabbas found\nfriendly voices where He found none. Hearing the suborned witnesses\nswear His life away, He heard at the same time His boldest disciple deny\nthat he knew any person of the name of Jesus. But through this\nabandonment He knew the Father's presence was with Him. \"I am not alone,\nbecause the Father is with Me.\"\n\nTimes which in their own degree try us with the same sense of\nsolitariness come upon us all. All pain is solitary; you must bear it\nalone: kind friends may be round you, but they cannot bear one pang for\nyou. You feel how separate and individual an existence you have when\nyour body is racked with pain and healthy people are by your side; and\nyou feel it also when you visit some pained or sorrowing person and sit\nsilently in their presence, feeling that the suffering is theirs and\nthat they must bear it. We should not brood much over any apparent want\nof recognition we may meet with; all such brooding is unwholesome and\nweak. Many of our minor sufferings we do best to keep to ourselves and\nsay nothing about them. Let us strive to show sympathy, and we shall\nfeel less the pain of not having it. To a large extent every one must be\nalone in life--forming his own views of things, working out his own idea\nof life, conquering his own sins, and schooling his own heart. And every\none is more or less misunderstood even by his most intimate friends. He\nfinds himself congratulated on occurrences which are no joy to him,\napplauded for successes he is ashamed of; the very kindnesses of his\nfriends reveal to him how little they understand his nature. But all\nthis will not deeply affect a healthy-minded man, who recognises that he\nis in the world to do good, and who is not always craving applause and\nrecognition.\n\nBut there are occasional times in which the want of sympathy is\ncrushingly felt. Some of the most painful and enduring sorrows of the\nhuman heart are of a kind which forbid that they be breathed to the\nnearest friend. Even if others know that they have fallen upon us they\ncannot allude to them; and very often they are not even known. And there\nare times even more trying, when we have not only to bear a sorrow or an\nanxiety all our own, but when we have to adopt a line of conduct which\nexposes us to misunderstanding, and to act continuously in a manner\nwhich shuts us off from the sympathy of our friends. Our friends\nremonstrate and advise, and we feel that their advice is erroneous: we\nare compelled to go our own way and bear the charge of obstinacy and\neven of cruelty; for sometimes, like Abraham offering Isaac, we cannot\nsatisfy conscience without seeming to injure or actually injuring those\nwe love.\n\nIt is in times like these that our faith is tested. We gain a firmer\nhold of God than ever before when we in actual life prefer His\ncountenance and fellowship to the approbation and good-will of our\nfriends. When in order to keep conscience clean we dare to risk the\ngood-will of those we depend upon for affection and for support, our\nfaith becomes a reality and rapidly matures. For a time we may seem to\nhave rendered ourselves useless, and to have thrown ourselves out of all\nprofitable relations to our fellow-men: we may be shunned, and our\nopinions and conduct may be condemned, and the object we had in view may\nseem to be further off than ever; but such was the experience of Christ\nalso, till even He was forced to cry out, not only Why have ye, My\nfriends, forsaken Me? but \"My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?\" But as in\nHis case, so in ours--this is only the natural and necessary path to the\nperfect justification of ourselves and of the principles our conduct has\nrepresented. If in obedience to conscience we are exposed to isolation\nand the various loss consequent upon it, we are not alone--God is with\nus. It is in the line of our conduct He is working and will carry out\nHis purposes. And well might such an one be envied by those who have\nfeared such isolation and shrunk from the manifold wretchedness that\ncomes of resisting the world's ways and independently following an\nunworldly and Christian path.\n\nFor really in our own life, as in the life of Christ, all is summed up\nin the conflict between Christ and the world; and therefore the last\nwords of this His last conversation are: \"In the world ye shall have\ntribulation: but be of good courage. I have overcome the world.\" When\nChrist speaks of \"the world\" as comprising all that was opposed to Him,\nit is not difficult to understand His meaning. By \"the world\" we\nsometimes mean this earth; sometimes all external things, sun, moon, and\nstars as well as this earth; sometimes we mean the world of men, as when\nwe say \"All the world knows\" such and such a thing, or as when Christ\nsaid \"God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son.\" But\nmuch more commonly Christ uses it to denote all in the present state of\nthings which opposes God and leads man away from God. We speak of\nworldliness as fatal to the spirit, because worldliness means preference\nfor what is external and present to what is inward and both present and\nfuture. Worldliness means attachment to things as they are--to the ways\nof society, to the excitements, the pleasures, the profits, of the\npresent. It means surrender to what appeals to the sense--to comfort to\nvanity, to ambition, to love of display. Worldliness is the spirit which\nuses the present world without reference to the lasting and spiritual\npurposes for the sake of which men are in this world. It ignores what is\neternal and what is spiritual; it is satisfied with present comfort,\nwith what brings present pleasure, with what ministers to the beauty of\nthis present life, to the material prosperity of men. And no soul\nwhatsoever or wheresoever situated can escape the responsibility of\nmaking his choice between the world and God. To each of us the question\nwhich determines all else is, Am I to live for ends which find their\naccomplishment in this present life, or for ends which are eternal? Am I\nto live so as to secure the utmost of comfort, of ease, of money, of\nreputation, of domestic enjoyment, of the good things of this present\nworld? or am I to live so as to do the most I can for the forwarding of\nGod's purposes with men, for the forwarding of spiritual and eternal\ngood? There is no man who is not living for one or other of these ends.\nTwo men enter the same office and transact the same business; but the\none is worldly, the other Christian: two men do the same work, use the\nsame material, draw the same salary; but one cherishes a spiritual end,\nthe other a worldly,--the one works, always striving to serve God and\nhis fellows, the other has nothing in view but himself and his own\ninterests. Two women live in the same street, have children at the same\nschool, dress very much alike; but you cannot know them long without\nperceiving that the one is worldly, with her heart set on position and\nearthly advancement for her children, while the other is unworldly and\nprays that her children may learn to conquer the world and to live a\nstainless and self-sacrificing life though it be a poor one. This is the\ndetermining probation of life; this it is which determines what we are\nand shall be. We are, every one of us, living either with the world as\nour end or for God. The difficulty of choosing rightly and abiding by\nour choice is extreme: no man has ever found it easy; for every man it\nis a sufficient test of his reality, of his dependence on principle, of\nhis moral clear-sightedness, of his strength of character.\n\nTherefore Christ, as the result of all His work, announces that He has\n\"overcome the world.\" And on the ground of this conquest of His He bids\nHis followers rejoice and take heart, as if somehow His conquest of the\nworld guaranteed theirs, and as if their conflict would be easier on\naccount of His. And so indeed it is. Not only has every one now who\nproposes to live for high and unworldly ends the satisfaction of knowing\nthat such a life is possible, and not only has he the vast encouragement\nof knowing that One has passed this way before and attained His end;\nbut, moreover, it is Christ's victory which has really overcome the\nworld in a final and public way. The world's principles of action, its\npleasure-seeking, its selfishness, its childish regard for glitter and\nfor what is present to sense, in a word, its worldliness when set over\nagainst the life of Christ, is for ever discredited. The experience of\nChrist in this world reflects such discredit upon merely worldly ways,\nand so clearly exhibits its blindness, its hatred of goodness, its\nimbecility when it strives to counterwork God's purposes, that no man\nwho morally has his eyes open can fail to look with suspicion and\nabhorrence on the world. And the dignity, the love, the apprehension of\nwhat is real and abiding in human affairs, and the ready application of\nHis life to a real and abiding purpose--all this, which is so visible in\nthe life of Christ, gives certainty and attractiveness to the principles\nopposed to worldliness. We have in Christ's life at once an\nauthoritative and an experimental teaching on the greatest of all human\nsubjects--how life should be spent.\n\nChrist has overcome the world, then, by resisting its influence upon\nHimself, by showing Himself actually superior to its most powerful\ninfluences; and His overcoming of the world is not merely a private\nvictory availing for Himself alone, but it is a public good, because in\nHis life the perfect beauty of a life devoted to eternal and spiritual\nends is conspicuously shown. The man who can look upon the conflict\nbetween the world and Christ as John has shown it, and say, \"I would\nrather be one of the Pharisees than Christ,\" is hopelessly blind to the\nreal value of human life. But what says our life regarding the actual\nchoice we have made?\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\n_CHRIST'S INTERCESSORY PRAYER._\n\n\n    \"These things spake Jesus; and lifting up His eyes to heaven, He\n    said, Father, the hour is come; glorify Thy Son, that the Son may\n    glorify Thee: even as Thou gavest Him authority over all flesh, that\n    whatsoever Thou hast given Him, to them He should give eternal life.\n    And this is life eternal, that they should know Thee the only true\n    God, and Him whom Thou didst send, even Jesus Christ. I glorified\n    Thee on the earth, having accomplished the work which Thou hast\n    given Me to do. And now, O Father, glorify Thou Me with Thine own\n    self with the glory which I had with Thee before the world was. I\n    manifested Thy name unto the men whom Thou gavest Me out of the\n    world: Thine they were, and Thou gavest them to Me; and they have\n    kept Thy word. Now they know that all things whatsoever Thou hast\n    given Me are from Thee: for the words which Thou gavest Me I have\n    given unto them; and they received them, and knew of a truth that I\n    came forth from Thee, and they believed that Thou didst send Me. I\n    pray for them: I pray not for the world, but for those whom Thou\n    hast given Me; for they are Thine: and all things that are Mine are\n    Thine, and Thine are Mine: and I am glorified in them. And I am no\n    more in the world, and these are in the world, and I come to Thee.\n    Holy Father, keep them in Thy name which Thou hast given Me, that\n    they may be one, even as We are. While I was with them, I kept them\n    in Thy name which Thou hast given Me: and I guarded them, and not\n    one of them perished, but the son of perdition; that the Scripture\n    might be fulfilled. But now I come to Thee; and these things I speak\n    in the world, that they may have My joy fulfilled in themselves. I\n    have given them Thy word; and the world hated them, because they are\n    not of the world, even as I am not of the world. I pray not that\n    Thou shouldest take them from the world, but that Thou shouldest\n    keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am\n    not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth: Thy word is truth. As\n    Thou didst send Me into the world, even so sent I them into the\n    world. And for their sakes I sanctify Myself, that they themselves\n    also may be sanctified in truth. Neither for these only do I pray,\n    but for them also that believe on Me through their word; that they\n    may all be one; even as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that\n    they also may be in Us: that the world may believe that Thou didst\n    send Me. And the glory which Thou hast given Me I have given unto\n    them; that they may be one, even as We are one; I in them, and Thou\n    in Me, that they may be perfected into one; that the world may know\n    that Thou didst send Me, and lovedst them, even as Thou lovedst Me.\n    Father, that which Thou hast given Me, I will that, where I am, they\n    also may be with Me; that they may behold My glory, which Thou hast\n    given Me: for Thou lovedst Me before the foundation of the world. O\n    righteous Father, the world knew Thee not, but I knew Thee; and\n    these knew that Thou didst send Me; and I made known unto them Thy\n    name, and will make it known; that the love wherewith Thou lovedst\n    me may be in them, and I in them.\"--JOHN xvii.\n\n\nThis prayer of Christ is in some respects the most precious relic of the\npast. We have here the words which Christ addressed to God in the\ncritical hour of His life--the words in which He uttered the deepest\nfeeling and thought of His Spirit, clarified and concentrated by the\nprospect of death. What a revelation it would be to us had we Christ's\nprayers from His boyhood onwards! what a liturgy and promptuary of\ndevotion if we knew what He had desired from His early years--what He\nhad feared, what He had prayed against, what He had never ceased to hope\nfor; the things that one by one dropped out of His prayers, the things\nthat gradually grew into them; the persons He commended to the Father\nand the manner of this commendation; His prayers for His mother, for\nJohn, for Peter, for Lazarus, for Judas! But here we have a prayer\nwhich, if it does not so abundantly satisfy pardonable curiosity, does\nat least bring us into as sacred a presence. For even among the prayers\nof Christ this stands by itself as that in which He gathered up the\nretrospect of His past and surveyed the future of His Church; in which,\nas if already dying, He solemnly presented to the Father Himself, His\nwork, and His people. Recognising the grandeur of the occasion, we may\nbe disposed to agree with Melanchthon, who, when giving his last\nlecture shortly before His death, said: \"There is no voice which has\never been heard, either in heaven or in earth, more exalted, more holy,\nmore fruitful, more sublime, than this prayer offered up by the Son of\nGod Himself.\"\n\nThe prayer was the natural conclusion to the conversation which Jesus\nand the disciples had been carrying on. And as the Eleven saw Him\nlifting His eyes to heaven, as if the Father He addressed were visible,\nthey no doubt felt a security which had not been imparted by all His\npromises. And when in after-life they spoke of Christ's intercession,\nthis instance of it must always have risen in memory and have formed all\ntheir ideas of that part of the Redeemer's work. It has always been\nbelieved that those who have loved and cared for us while on earth\ncontinue to do so when through death they have passed nearer to the\nSource of all love and goodness; this lively interest in us is supposed\nto continue because it formed so material an element in their life here\nbelow; and it was impossible that those who heard our Lord thus awfully\ncommending them to the Father should ever forget this earnest\nconsideration of their state or should ever come to fancy that they were\nforgotten.\n\nBeginning with prayer for Himself, our Lord passes at the sixth verse\ninto prayer for His disciples, and at the twentieth verse the prayer\nexpands still more widely and embraces the world, all those who should\nbelieve on Him.\n\nFirst, Jesus prays for Himself; and His prayer is, \"Father, glorify Thy\nSon; glorify Thou Me with Thine own self with the glory which I had with\nThee before the world was.\" The work for which He came into the world\nwas done; \"I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do.\" There\nremains no more reason why He should stay longer on earth; \"the hour is\ncome,\" the hour for closing His earthly career and opening to Him a new\nperiod and sphere. He does not wish and does not need a prolongation of\nlife. He has found time enough in less than a half of three-score years\nand ten to do all He can do on earth. It is character, not time, we need\nto do our work. To make a deep and abiding impression it is not longer\nlife we need, but intensity. Jesus did not find Himself cramped,\nlimited, or too soon hurried out of life. He viewed death as the\nsuitable timely step, and took it with self-command and in order to pass\nto something better than earthly life.\n\nHow immeasurably beneath this level is the vaunted equanimity of the\nthinker who says, \"Death can be no evil because it is universal\"! How\nimmeasurably beneath it is the habit of most of us! Which of us can\nstand in that clear air on that high point which separates life from\nwhat is beyond and can say, \"I have finished the work which Thou gavest\nMe to do\"? A broken column is the fit monument of our life, unfinished,\nfrustrated, useless. Wasted energy, ill-repaired blunders, unfulfilled\npurposes, fruitless years, much that is positively evil, much that was\ndone mechanically and carelessly and for the day; plans ill conceived\nand worse executed; imperfect ideals of life imperfectly realised;\npursuits dictated by uneducated tastes, unchastened whims, accidental\ncircumstances,--such is the retrospect which most of us have as we look\nback over life. Few men even recognise the reality of life as part of an\neternal order, and, of the few who do so, still fewer seriously and\npersistently aim at fitting in their life as a solid part of that\norder.\n\nBefore we know whether we have finished the work given us to do we must\nknow what that work is. At the outset of his account of Christ's work\nJohn gives us his conception of it. \"The Word was made flesh, and dwelt\namong us; and _we beheld His glory_, the glory as of the Only-begotten\nof the Father.\" This work was now accomplished, and Jesus can say, \"I\nhave glorified Thee on the earth\"; \"I have manifested Thy name unto the\nmen which Thou gavest Me out of the world.\" We may all add our humble\nresponsive \"Amen\" to this account of His finished work. John has carried\nus through the scenes in which Jesus manifested the glory of the Father\nand showed the full meaning of that name, displaying the Father's love\nin His self-sacrificing interest in men, the Father's holiness and\nsupremacy in His devoted filial obedience. Never again can men separate\nthe idea of the true God from the life of Jesus Christ; it is in that\nlife we come to know God, and through that life His glory shines. This\nmany a man has felt is the true Divine glory; this God yearning over His\nlost and wretched children, coming down and sharing in their\nwretchedness to win them to Himself and blessedness--this is the God for\nus. This alone is glory such as we bow before and own to be infinitely\nworthy of trust and adoration, almightiness applying itself to the\nnecessities and fears of the weak, perfect purity winning to itself the\nimpure and the outcast, love showing itself to be Divine by its\npatience, its humility, its absolute sacrifice. It is Christ who has\nfound entrance for these conceptions of God once for all into the human\nmind; it is to Christ we owe it that we know a God we can entirely love\nand increasingly worship. With the most assured truth He could say, \"I\nhave finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do; I have glorified\nThee on the earth; I have manifested Thy name unto the men which Thou\ngavest Me out of the world.\"\n\nBut Christ recognises a work which ran parallel with this, a work which\ncontinually resulted from His manifestation of the Father. By His\nmanifesting the Father He gave eternal life to those who accepted and\nbelieved His revelation. The power to reveal the Father which Christ had\nreceived He had not on His own account, but that He might give eternal\nlife to men. For \"this is life eternal, that they might know Thee the\nonly true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent.\" Eternal life is\nnot merely life indefinitely prolonged. It is rather life under new\nconditions and fed from different sources. It can be entered upon now,\nbut a full understanding of it is now impossible. The grub might as well\ntry to understand the life of the butterfly, or the chick in the shell\nthe life of the bird. To know what Christ revealed, this is the birth to\nlife eternal. To know that love and holiness are the governing powers in\nconformity with which all things are carried onward to their end; to\nknow what God is, that He is a Father who cannot leave us His children\nof earth behind and pass on to His own great works and purposes in the\nuniverse, but stoops to our littleness and delays that He may carry\nevery one of us with Him,--this is life eternal. This it is that subdues\nthe human heart and cleanses it from pride, self-seeking, and lust, and\nthat inclines it to bow before the holy and loving God, and to choose\nHim and life in Him. This it is that turns it from the brief joys and\nimperfect meanings of time and gives it a home in eternity--that severs\nit in disposition and in destiny from the changing, passing world and\ngives it an eternal inheritance as God's child. To as many as believed\nChrist, to them He gave power to become the sons of God. To believe Him\nand to accept the God He reveals is to become a son of God and is to\nenter into life eternal. To be conquered by the Divine love shown us; to\nfeel that not in worldly ambition or any self-seeking, but only in\ndevotion to interests that are spiritual and general, is the true life\nfor us; to yield ourselves to the Spirit of Christ and seek to be\nanimated and possessed by that Spirit,--this is to throw in our lot with\nGod, to be satisfied in Him, to have eternal life.\n\nThe earthly work of Christ, then, being finished, He asks the Father to\nglorify Him with His own self, with the glory He had with Him before the\nworld was. It seems to me vain to deny that this petition implies on\nChrist's part a consciousness of a life which He had before He appeared\non earth. His mind turns from the present hour, from His earthly life,\nto eternity, to those regions beyond time into which no created\nintelligence can follow Him, and in which God alone exists, and in that\nDivine solitude He claims a place for Himself. If He merely meant that\nfrom eternity God had conceived of Him, the ideal man, and if the\nexistence and glory He speaks of were merely existence in God's mind,\nbut not actual, His words do not convey His meaning. The glory which He\nprayed for now was a conscious, living glory; He did not wish to become\nextinct or to be absorbed in the Divine being; He meant to continue and\ndid continue in actual, personal, living existence. This was the glory\nHe prayed for, and this therefore must also have been the glory He had\nbefore the world was. It was a glory of which it was proper to say, \"_I\nhad_ it,\" and not merely God conceived it: it was enjoyed by Christ\nbefore the worlds were, and was not only in the mind of God.\n\nWhat that glory was, who can tell? We know it was a glory not of\nposition only, but of character--a glory which disposed and prepared Him\nto sympathize with suffering and to give Himself to the actual needs of\nmen. From that glory He came to share with men in their humiliation, to\nexpose Himself to their scorn and abuse, to win them to eternal life and\nto some true participation in His glory.\n\nBut Christ's removal from the earthly and visible life involved a great\nchange in the condition of the disciples. Hitherto He had been present\nwith them day by day, always exhibiting to them spiritual glory, and\nattracting them to it in His own person. So long as they saw God's glory\nin so attractive and friendly a form it was not difficult for them to\nresist the world's temptations. \"While I was with them in the world, I\nkept them in Thy name\"--that is, by revealing the Father to them; but\n\"now I am no more in the world, but these are in the world, and I come\nto Thee. Holy Father, keep through Thine own name those whom Thou hast\ngiven Me. Sanctify them through Thy truth: Thy word is truth.\" Christ\nhad been the Word Incarnate, the utterance of God to men; in Him men\nrecognised what God is and what God wills. And this sanctified them;\nthis marvellous revelation of God and His love for men drew men to Him:\nthey felt how Divine and overcoming a love this was; they adored the\nname Father which Christ the Son made known to them; they felt\nthemselves akin to God and claimed by Him, and spurned the world; they\nrecognised in themselves that which could understand and be appealed to\nby such a love as God's. Their glory was to be God's children.\n\nBut now the visible image, the Incarnate Word, is withdrawn, and Christ\ncommits to the Father those whom He leaves on earth. \"Holy Father,\" Thou\nwhose holiness moves Thee to keep men separate to Thyself from every\nevil contagion, \"keep through Thine own name those whom Thou hast given\nMe.\" It is still by the recognition of God in Christ that we are to be\nkept from evil, by contemplating and penetrating this great\nmanifestation of God to us, by listening humbly and patiently to this\nIncarnate Word. Knowledge of the God whose the world and all existence\nis, knowledge of Him in whom we live and whose holiness is silently\njudging and ruling all things, knowledge that He who rules all and who\nis above all gives Himself to us with a love that thinks no sacrifice\ntoo great--it is this knowledge of the truth that saves us from the\nworld. It is the knowledge of those abiding realities which Christ\nrevealed, of those great and loving purposes of God to man, and of the\ncertainty of their fulfilment, which recalls us to holiness and to God.\nThere is reality here; all else is empty and delusive.\n\nBut these realities are obscured and thrust aside by a thousand\npretentious frivolities which claim our immediate attention and\ninterest. We are in the world, and day by day the world insists that we\nshall consider it the great reality. Christ had conquered it and was\nleaving it. Why, then, did He not take with Him all whom He had won to\nHimself out of the world? He did not do so because they had a work to\naccomplish which could only be accomplished in the world. As He had\nconsecrated Himself to the work of making known the Father, so must\nthey consecrate themselves to the same work. As Christ in His own person\nand life had brought clear before their minds the presence of the\nFather, so must they by their person and life manifest in the world the\nexistence and the grace of Christ. They must make permanent and\nuniversal the revelation He had brought, that all the world might\nbelieve that He was the true representative of God. Christ had lighted\nthem, and with their light they were to kindle all men, till the world\nwas full of light. A share in this work is given to each of us. We are\npermitted to mediate between God and men, to carry to some the knowledge\nwhich gives life eternal. It is made possible to us to be benefactors in\nthe highest kind, to give to this man and that a God. To parents it is\nmade possible to fill the opening and hungry mind of their child with a\nsense of God which will awe, restrain, encourage, gladden him all his\nlife through. To relieve the wants of to-day, to refresh any human\nspirit by kindness, and to forward the interests of any struggler in\nlife is much; but it is little compared with the joy and solid utility\nof disclosing to a human soul that which he at last recognises as\nDivine, and before which at last he bows in spontaneous adoration and\nabsolute trust. To the man who has long questioned whether there is a\nGod, who has doubted whether there is any morally perfect Being, any\nSpirit existent greater and purer than man, you have but to show Christ,\nand through His unconquerable love and untemptable holiness reveal to\nhim a God.\n\nBut as it was not by telling men about God that Christ convinced men\nthat somewhere there existed a holy God who cared for them, but by\nshowing God's holiness and love present to them in His own person, so\nour words may fail to accomplish much if our life does not reveal a\npresence men cannot but recognise as Divine. It was by being one with\nthe Father Christ revealed Him; it was the Father's will His life\nexhibited. And the extension of this to the whole world of men is the\nutmost of Christ's desire. All will be accomplished when all men are\none, even as Christ and the Father are already one.\n\nThis text is often cited by those who seek to promote the union of\nchurches. But we find it belongs to a very different category and much\nhigher region. That all churches should be under similar government,\nshould adopt the same creed, should use the same forms of worship, even\nif possible, is not supremely desirable; but real unity of sentiment\ntowards Christ and of zeal to promote His will is supremely desirable.\nChrist's will is all-embracing; the purposes of God are wide as the\nuniverse, and can be fulfilled only by endless varieties of\ndispositions, functions, organisations, labours. We must expect that, as\ntime goes on, men, so far from being contracted into a narrow and\nmonotonous uniformity, will exhibit increasing diversities of thought\nand of method, and will be more and more differentiated in all outward\nrespects. If the infinitely comprehensive purposes of God are to be\nfulfilled, it must be so. But also, if these purposes are to be\nfulfilled, all intelligent agents must be at one with God, and must be\nso profoundly in sympathy with God's mind as revealed in Christ that,\nhowever different one man's work or methods may be from another's, God's\nwill shall alike be carried out by both. If this will can be more freely\ncarried out by separate churches, then outward separation is no great\ncalamity. Only when outward separation leads one church to despise or\nrival or hate another is it a calamity. But whether churches abide\nseparate or are incorporated in outward unity, the desirable thing is\nthat they be one in Christ, that they have the same eagerness in His\nservice, that they be as regiments of one army fighting a common foe and\nsupporting one another, diverse in outward appearance, in method, in\nfunction, as artillery, infantry, cavalry, engineers, or even as the\narmy and navy of the same country, but fighting for one flag and one\ncause, and their very diversity more vividly exhibiting their real\nunity.\n\nBut why should unity be the ultimate desire of Christ, the highest point\nto which the Saviour's wishes for mankind can reach? Because spirit is\nthat which rules; and if we be one with God in spirit the future is\nours. This mighty universe in which we find ourselves, apparently\ngoverned by forces compared to which the most powerful of human engines\nare weak as the moth--forces which keep this earth, and orbs\nimmeasurably larger, suspended in space,--this universe is controlled by\nspirit, is designed for spiritual ends, for ends of the highest kind and\nwhich concern conscious and moral beings.\n\nIt is as yet only by glimpses we can see the happiness of those who are\none with God; it is only by inadequate comparisons and with mental\neffort we can attain to even a rudimentary conception of the future that\nawaits those who are thus eternally blessed. Of them well may Paul say,\n\"All things are yours; for ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's.\" It is\nfor Christ all things are governed by God; to be in Him is to be above\nthe reach of catastrophe--to be, as Christ Himself expresses it, beside\nHimself on the throne, from which all things are ruled. Having been\nattracted by His character, by what He is and does, and having sought\nhere on earth to promote His will, we shall be His agents hereafter, but\nin a life in which spiritual glory irradiates everything, and in which\nan ecstasy and strength which this frail body could not contain will be\nthe normal and constant index of the life of God in us. To do good, to\nutter by word or deed the love and power that are in us, is the\npermanent joy of man. With what alacrity does the surgeon approach the\noperation he knows will be successful! with what pleasure does the\npainter put on canvas the idea which fills his mind and which he knows\nwill appeal to every one who sees it! And whoever learns to do good by\npartaking of God's spirit of communicative goodness will find\neverlasting joy in imparting what he has and can. He will do so, not\nwith the feeble and hesitating mind and hand which here make almost\nevery good action partly painful, but with a spontaneity and sense of\npower which will be wholly pleasure; he will know that being one with\nGod he can do good, can accomplish and effect some solid and needful\nwork. Slowly, very slowly, is this arrived at; but time is of no\nconsequence in work that is eternal, so long only as we are sure we do\nnot idly miss present opportunities of learning, so long only as we know\nthat our faces are turned in the right direction, and that a right\nspirit is in us.\n\nIf there lingers in our minds a feeling that the end Christ proposes and\nutters as His last prayer for men does not draw us with irresistible\nforce, it might be enough to say to our own heart that this is our\nweakness, that certainly in this prayer we do touch the very central\nsignificance of human life, and that however dimly human words may be\nable to convey thoughts regarding eternity we have here in Christ's\nwords sufficient indication of the one abiding end and aim of all wisely\ndirected human life. Whatever the future of man is to be, whatever joy\n_life_ is to become, in whatever far-reaching and prolonged experiences\nwe are to learn the fruitfulness and efficacy of God's love, whatever\nnew sources and conditions of happiness we may in future worlds be\nintroduced to, whatever higher energies and richer affections are to be\nopened in us, all this can only be by our becoming one with God, in\nwhose will the future now lies. And it may also be said, if we think\nthis the prayer of One who was not in the full current of actual human\nlife, and had little understanding of men's ways, that this prayer is\nfulfilled in very many who are deeply involved and busily occupied in\nthis world. They give their mind to their employment, but their heart\ngoes to higher aims and more enduring results. To do good is to them of\ngreater consequence than to make money. To see the number of Christ's\nsincere followers increasing is to them truer joy than to see their own\nbusiness extending. In the midst of their greatest prosperity they\nrecognise that there is something far better than worldly prosperity,\nand that is, to be kept from the evil that is in the world and to extend\nthe knowledge of God. They feel in common with all men that it is not\nalways easy to remember that great spiritual kingdom with its mighty but\nunobtrusive interests, but they are kept by the Father's name, and they\ndo on the whole live under the influence of God and hoping in His\nsalvation. And it would help us all to do so were we to believe that\nChrist's interest in us is such as this prayer reveals, and that the\ngreat subject of His intercession is, that we be kept from the evil that\nis in the world and be helpful in the great and enduring work of\nbringing into truer fellowship men's lives and God's goodness. Alongside\nof all our profitless labour and unworthiness of aim there runs this\nlofty aim of Christ for us; and while we are greedily following after\npleasure, or thoughtlessly throwing ourselves into mere worldliness, our\nLord is praying the Father that we be lifted into harmony with Him and\nbe used as channels of His grace to others.\n\n\n\n\nXVII.\n\n_THE ARREST._\n\n\n    \"When Jesus had spoken these words, He went forth with His disciples\n    over the brook Kidron, where was a garden, into the which He\n    entered, Himself and His disciples. Now Judas also, which betrayed\n    Him, knew the place: for Jesus ofttimes resorted thither with His\n    disciples. Judas then, having received the band of soldiers, and\n    officers from the chief priests and the Pharisees, cometh thither\n    with lanterns and torches and weapons. Jesus therefore, knowing all\n    the things that were coming upon Him, went forth, and saith unto\n    them, Whom seek ye? They answered Him, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus\n    saith unto them, I am He. And Judas also, which betrayed Him, was\n    standing with them. When therefore He said unto them, I am He, they\n    went backward, and fell to the ground. Again therefore He asked\n    them, Whom seek ye? And they said, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus\n    answered, I told you that I am He: if therefore ye seek Me, let\n    these go their way: that the word might be fulfilled which He spake,\n    Of those whom Thou hast given Me I lost not one. Simon Peter\n    therefore having a sword drew it, and struck the high priest's\n    servant, and cut off his right ear. Now the servant's name was\n    Malchus. Jesus therefore said unto Peter, Put up the sword into the\n    sheath: the cup which the Father hath given Me, shall I not drink\n    it? So the band and the chief captain, and the officers of the Jews,\n    seized Jesus and bound Him, and led Him to Annas first; for he was\n    father-in-law to Caiaphas, which was high priest that year. Now\n    Caiaphas was he which gave counsel to the Jews, that it was\n    expedient that one man should die for the people.\"--JOHN xviii.\n    1-14.\n\n\nJesus having commended to the Father Himself and His disciples, left the\ncity, crossed the Kidron, and entered the Garden of Gethsemane, where He\nfrequently went for quiet and to pass the night. The time He had spent\nin encouraging His disciples and praying for them Judas had spent in\nmaking preparations for His arrest. In order to impress Pilate with the\ndangerous nature of this Galilean he asks him for the use of the Roman\ncohort to effect His capture. It was possible His arrest might occasion\na tumult and rouse the people to attempt a rescue. Perhaps Judas also\nhad an alarming remembrance of the miraculous power he had seen Jesus\nput forth, and was afraid to attempt His apprehension with only the\nunderstrappers of the Sanhedrim or the Temple guard; so he takes the\nRoman cohort of five hundred men, or whatever number he would reckon\nwould be more than a match for a miracle. And though the moon was full,\nhe takes the precaution of furnishing the expedition with lanterns and\ntorches, for he knew that down in that deep Kidron gully it was often\ndark when there was plenty of light above; and might not Jesus hide\nHimself in some of the shadows, in some thicket or cavern, or in some\ngarden-shed or tower? He could not have made more elaborate\npreparations had he been wishing to take a thief or to surprise a\ndangerous chief of banditti in his stronghold.\n\nThe futility of such preparations became at once apparent. So far from\ntrying to hide Himself or slip out by the back of the garden, Jesus no\nsooner sees the armed men than He steps to the front and asks, \"Whom\nseek ye?\" Jesus, in order that He might screen His disciples, wished at\nonce to be identified by His captors themselves as the sole object of\ntheir search. By declaring that they sought Jesus of Nazareth, they\nvirtually exempted the rest from apprehension. But when Jesus identified\nHimself as the person they sought, instead of rushing forward and\nholding Him fast, as Judas had instructed them, those in front shrank\nback; they felt that they had no weapons that would not break upon the\ncalmness of that spiritual majesty; they went backward and fell to the\nground. This was no idle display; it was not a needless theatrical\ngarnishing of the scene for the sake of effect. If we could imagine the\nDivine nobility of Christ's appearance at that critical moment when He\nfinally proclaimed His work done and gave Himself up to die, we should\nall of us sink humbled and overcome before Him. Even in the dim and\nflickering light of the torches there was that in His appearance which\nmade it impossible for the bluntest and rudest soldier to lay a hand\nupon Him. Discipline was forgotten; the legionaries who had thrown\nthemselves on spear-points unawed by the fiercest of foes saw in this\nunarmed figure something which quelled and bewildered them.\n\nBut this proof of His superiority was lost upon His disciples. They\nthought that armed force should be met by armed force. Recovering from\ntheir discomfiture, and being ashamed of it, the soldiers and servants\nof the Sanhedrim advance to bind Jesus. Peter, who had with some dim\npresentiment of what was coming possessed himself of a sword, aims a\nblow at the head of Malchus, who having his hands occupied in binding\nJesus can only defend himself by bending his head to one side, and so\ninstead of his life loses only his ear. To our Lord this interposition\nof Peter seemed as if he were dashing out of His hand the cup which the\nFather had put into it. Disengaging His hands from those who already\nheld them He said, \"Suffer ye thus far\"[20] (Permit Me to do this one\nthing); and laying His hand on the wound He healed it, this forgiving\nand beneficent act being the last done by His unbound\nhands--significant, indeed, that such should be the style of action from\nwhich they prevented Him by binding His hands. Surely the Roman officer\nin command, if none of the others, must have observed the utter\nincongruity of the bonds, the fatuous absurdity and wickedness of tying\nhands because they wrought miracles of healing.\n\nWhile our Lord thus calmly resigned Himself to His fate, He was not\nwithout an indignant sense of the wrong that was done Him, not only in\nHis being apprehended, but in the manner of it. \"Are ye come out as\nagainst a thief with swords and with staves? I sat daily teaching in the\nTemple, and ye laid no hold on Me.\" Many of the soldiers must have felt\nhow ungenerous it was to treat such a Person as a common felon,--coming\nupon Him thus in the dead of night, as if He were one who never appeared\nin the daylight; coming with bludgeons and military aid, as if He were\nlikely to create a disturbance. Commonly an arrest is considered to be\nbest made if the culprit is seized red-handed in the very act. Why,\nthen, had they not thus taken Him? They knew that the popular conscience\nwas with Him, and they dared not take Him on the streets of Jerusalem.\nIt was the last evidence of their inability to understand His kingdom,\nits nature and its aims. Yet surely some of the crowd must have felt\nashamed of themselves, and been uneasy till they got rid of their\nunsuitable weapons, stealthily dropping their sticks as they walked or\nhurling them deep into the shade of the garden.\n\nThis, then, is the result produced by our Lord's labours of love and\nwisdom. His conduct had been most conciliatory--conciliatory to the\npoint of meekness unintelligible to those who could not penetrate His\nmotives. He had innovated certainly, but His innovations were blessings,\nand were so marked by wisdom and sanctioned by reason that every direct\nassault against them had broken down. He did not seek for power further\nthan for the power of doing good. He knew He could lift men to a far\nother life than they were living, and permission to do so was His grand\ndesire. The result was that He was marked as the object of the most\nrancorous hatred of which the human heart is capable. Why so? Do we need\nto ask? What is more exasperating to men who fancy themselves the\nteachers of the age than to find another teacher carrying the\nconvictions of the people? What is more painful than to find that in\nadvanced life we must revolutionise our opinions and admit the truth\ntaught by our juniors? He who has new truths to declare or new methods\nto introduce must recognise that he will be opposed by the combined\nforces of ignorance, pride, self-interest, and sloth. The majority are\nalways on the side of things as they are. And whoever suggests\nimprovement, whoever shows the faultiness and falseness of what has been\nin vogue, must be prepared to pay the price and endure misunderstanding,\ncalumny, opposition, and ill-usage. If all men speak well of us, it is\nonly while we go with the stream. As soon as we oppose popular customs,\nexplode received opinions, introduce reforms, we must lay our account\nfor ill-treatment. It has always been so, and in the nature of things it\nmust always be so. We cannot commit a crime more truly hated by society\nthan to convince it there are better ways of living than its own and a\ntruth beyond what it has conceived, and it has been the consolation and\nencouragement of many who have endeavoured to improve matters around\nthem and have met with contempt or enmity that they share the lot of Him\nwhose reward for seeking to bless mankind was that He was arrested as a\ncommon felon.\n\nWhen thus treated, men are apt to be embittered towards their fellows.\nWhen all their efforts to do good are made the very ground of accusation\nagainst them, there is the strongest provocation to give up all such\nattempts and to arrange for one's own comfort and safety. This world has\nfew more sufficient tests to apply to character than this; and it is\nonly the few who, when misinterpreted and ill-used by ignorance and\nmalignity, can retain any loving care for others. It struck the\nspectators, therefore, of this scene in the garden as a circumstance\nworthy of record, that when Jesus was Himself bound He should shield His\ndisciples. \"If ye seek Me, let these go their way.\" Some of the crowd\nhad perhaps laid hands on the disciples or were showing a disposition to\napprehend them as well as their Master. Jesus therefore interferes,\nreminding His captors that they had themselves said that _He_ was the\nobject of this midnight raid, and that the disciples must therefore be\nscatheless.\n\nIn relating this part of the scene John puts an interpretation on it\nwhich was not merely natural, but which has been put upon it\ninstinctively by all Christians since. It seemed to John as if, in thus\nacting, our Lord was throwing into a concrete and tangible form His true\nsubstitution in the room of His people. To John these words He utters\nseem the motto of His work. Had any of the disciples been arrested along\nwith Jesus and been executed by His side as act and part with Him, the\nview which the Christian world has taken of Christ's position and work\nmust have been blurred if not quite altered. But the Jews had\npenetration enough to see where the strength of this movement lay. They\nbelieved that if the Shepherd was smitten the sheep would give them no\ntrouble, but would necessarily scatter. Peter's flourish with the sword\nattracted little attention; they knew that great movements were not led\nby men of his type. They passed him by with a smile and did not even\narrest him. It was Jesus who stood before them as alone dangerous. And\nJesus on His side knew that the Jews were right, that He was the\nresponsible person, that these Galileans would have been dreaming at\ntheir nets had He not summoned them to follow Him. If there was any\noffence in the matter, it belonged to Him, not to them.\n\nBut in Jesus thus stepping to the front and shielding the disciples by\nexposing Himself, John sees a picture of the whole sacrifice and\nsubstitution of Christ. This figure of his Master moving forward to meet\nthe swords and staves of the party remains indelibly stamped upon his\nmind as the symbol of Christ's whole relation to His people. That night\nin Gethsemane was to them all the hour and power of darkness; and in\nevery subsequent hour of darkness John and the rest see the same Divine\nfigure stepping to the front, shielding them and taking upon Himself all\nthe responsibility. It is thus Christ would have us think of Him--as our\nfriend and protector, watchful over our interests, alive to all that\nthreatens our persons, interposing between us and every hostile event.\nIf by following Him according to our knowledge we are brought into\ndifficulties, into circumstances of trouble and danger, if we are\nbrought into collision with those in power, if we are discouraged and\nthreatened by serious obstacles, let us be quite sure that in the\ncritical moment He will interpose and convince us that, though He cannot\nsave Himself, He can save others. He will not lead us into difficulties\nand leave us to find our own way out of them. If in striving to\ndischarge our duty we have become entangled in many distressing and\nannoying circumstances, He acknowledges His responsibility in leading us\ninto such a condition, and will see that we are not permanently the\nworse for it. If in seeking to know Him more thoroughly we have been led\ninto mental perplexities, He will stand by us and see that we come to no\nharm. He encourages us to take this action of His in shielding His\ndisciples as the symbol of what we all may expect He will do for\nourselves. In all matters between God and us He interposes and claims to\nbe counted as the true Head who is accountable, as that One who desires\nto answer all charges that can be made against the rest of us. If\ntherefore, in view of much duty left undone, of many sinful imaginings\nharboured, of much vileness of conduct and character, we feel that it is\nourselves the eye of God is seeking and with _us_ He means to take\naccount; if we know not how to answer Him regarding many things that\nstick in our memory and conscience,--let us accept the assurance here\ngiven us that Christ presents Himself as responsible.\n\nIt is not without surprise that we read that when Jesus was arrested all\nthe disciples forsook Him and fled. John, indeed, and Peter speedily\nrecovered themselves and followed to the hall of judgment; and the\nothers may not only have felt that they were in danger so long as they\nremained in His company, but also that by accompanying Him they could\nnot mend matters. Still, the kind of loyalty that stands by a falling\ncause, and the kind of courage that risks all to show sympathy with a\nfriend or leader, are qualities so very common that one would have\nexpected to find them here. And no doubt had the matter been to be\ndecided in Peter's fashion, by the sword, they would have stood by Him.\nBut there was a certain mysteriousness about our Lord's purpose that\nprevented His followers from being quite sure where they were being led\nto. They were perplexed and staggered by the whole transaction. They had\nexpected things to go differently and scarcely knew what they were doing\nwhen they fled.\n\nThere are times when we feel a slackening of devotion to Christ, times\nwhen we are doubtful whether we have not been misled, times when the\nbond between us and Him seems to be of the slenderest possible\ndescription, times when we have as truly forsaken Him as these\ndisciples, and are running no risks for Him, doing nothing to advance\nHis interests, seeking only our own comfort and our own safety. These\ntimes will frequently be found to be the result of disappointed\nexpectations. Things have not gone with us in the spiritual life as we\nexpected. We have found things altogether more difficult than we looked\nfor. We do not know what to make of our present state nor what to expect\nin the future, and so we lose an active interest in Christ and fall away\nfrom any hope that is living and influential.\n\nAnother point which John evidently desires to bring prominently before\nus in this narrative is Christ's willingness to surrender Himself; the\nvoluntary character of all He afterwards suffered. It was at this point\nof His career, at His apprehension, this could best be brought out.\nAfterwards He might say He suffered willingly, but so far as appearances\nwent He had no option. Previous to His apprehension His professions of\nwillingness would not have been attended to. It was precisely now that\nit could be seen whether He would flee, hide, resist, or calmly yield\nHimself. And John is careful to bring out His willingness. He went to\nthe garden as usual, \"knowing all things that should come upon Him.\" It\nwould have been easy to seek some safer quarters for the night, but He\nwould not. At the last moment escape from the garden could not have been\nimpossible. His followers could have covered His retreat. But He\nadvances to meet the party, avows Himself to be the man they sought,\nwill not suffer Peter to use his sword, in every way shows that His\nsurrender is voluntary. Still, had He not shown His power to escape,\nonlookers might have thought this was only the prudent conduct of a\nbrave man who wished to preserve His dignity, and therefore preferred\ndelivering Himself up to being ignominiously dragged from a\nhiding-place. Therefore it was made plain that if He yielded it was not\nfor want of power to resist. By a word He overthrew those who came to\nbind Him, and made them feel ashamed of their preparations. He spoke\nconfidently of help that would have swept the cohort off the field.[21]\nAnd thus it was brought out that, if He died, He laid down His life and\nwas not deprived of it solely by the hate and violence of men. The hate\nand violence were there; but they were not the sole factors. He yielded\nto these because they were ingredients in the cup His Father wished Him\nto drink.\n\nThe reason of this is obvious. Christ's life was to be all sacrifice,\nbecause self-sacrifice is the essence of holiness and of love. From\nbeginning to end the moving spring of all His actions was deliberate\nself-devotement to the good of men or to the fulfilment of God's will;\nfor these are equivalents. And His death as the crowning act of this\ncareer was to be conspicuously a death embodying and exhibiting the\nspirit of self-sacrifice. He offered Himself on the cross through the\neternal Spirit. That death was not compulsory; it was not the outcome of\na sudden whim or generous impulse; it was the expression of a constant\nuniform \"eternal\" Spirit, which on the cross, in the yielding of life\nitself, rendered up for men all that was possible. Unwillingly no\nsacrifice can be made. When a man is taxed to support the poor, we do\nnot call that a sacrifice. Sacrifice must be free, loving, uncompelled;\nit must be the exhibition in act of love, the freest and most\nspontaneous of all human emotions. \"It is a true Christian instinct in\nour language which has seized upon the word _sacrifice_ to express the\nself-devotion prompted by an unselfish love for others: we speak of the\n_sacrifices_ made by a loving wife or mother; and we test the sincerity\nof a Christian by the _sacrifices_ he will make for the love of Christ\nand the brethren.... The reason why Christianity has approved itself a\nliving principle of regeneration to the world is specially because a\nDivine example and a Divine spirit of self-sacrifice have wrought\ntogether in the hearts of men, and thereby an ever-increasing number\nhave been quickened with the desire and strengthened with the will to\nspend and be spent for the cleansing, the restoration, and the life of\nthe most guilty, miserable, and degraded of their fellows.\" It was in\nChrist's life and death this great principle of the life of God and man\nwas affirmed: there self-sacrifice is perfectly exhibited.\n\nIt is to this willingness of Christ to suffer we must ever turn. It is\nthis voluntary, uncompelled, spontaneous devotion of Himself to the good\nof men which is the magnetic point in this earth. Here is something we\ncan cleave to with assurance, something we can trust and build upon.\nChrist in His own sovereign freedom of will and impelled by love of us\nhas given Himself to work out our perfect deliverance from sin and evil\nof every kind. Let us deal sincerely with Him, let us be in earnest\nabout these matters, let us hope truly in Him, let us give Him time to\nconquer by moral means all our moral foes within and without, and we\nshall one day enter into His joy and His triumph.\n\nBut when we thus apply John's words we are haunted with a suspicion that\nthey were perhaps not intended to be thus used. Is John justified in\nfinding in Christ's surrender of Himself to the authorities, on\ncondition that the disciples should escape, fulfilment of the words that\nof those whom God had given Him He had lost none? The actual occurrence\nwe see here is Jesus arrested as a false Messiah, and claiming to be the\nsole culprit if any culprit there be. Is this an occurrence that has any\nbearing upon us or any special instruction regarding the substitution of\na sin-bearer in our room? Can it mean that He alone bears the punishment\nof our sin and that we go free? Is it any more than an illustration of\nHis substitutionary work, one instance out of many of His habit of\nself-devotion in the room of others? Can I build upon this act in the\nGarden of Gethsemane and conclude from it that He surrenders Himself\nthat I may escape punishment? Can I legitimately gather from it anything\nmore than another proof of His constant readiness to stand in the\nbreach? It is plain enough that a person who acted as Christ did here is\none we could trust; but had this action any special virtue as the actual\nsubstitution of Christ in our room as sin-bearer?\n\nIt is, I think, well that we should occasionally put to ourselves such\nquestions and train ourselves to look at the events of Christ's life as\nactual occurrences, and to distinguish between what is fanciful and what\nis real. So much has been said and written regarding His work, it has\nbeen the subject of so much sentiment, the basis of so many conflicting\ntheories, the text of so much loose and allegorising interpretation,\nthat the original plain and substantial fact is apt to be overlaid and\nlost sight of. And yet it is that plain and substantial reality which\nhas virtue for us, while all else is delusive, howsoever finely\nsentimental, howsoever rich in coincidences with Old Testament sayings\nor in suggestions of ingenious doctrine. The subject of substitution is\nobscure. Inquiry into the Atonement is like the search for the North\nPole: approach it from what quarter we may, there are unmistakable\nindications that a finality exists in that direction; but to make our\nway to it and take a survey all round it at once is still beyond us. We\nmust be content if we can correct certain variations of the compass and\nfind so much as one open waterway through which our own little vessel\ncan be steered.\n\nLooking, then, at this surrender of Christ in the light of John's\ncomment, we see clearly enough that Christ sought to shelter His\ndisciples at His own expense, and that this must have been the habit of\nHis life. He sought no companion in misfortune. His desire was to save\nothers from suffering. This willingness to be the responsible party was\nthe habit of His life. It is impossible to think of Christ as in any\nmatter sheltering Himself behind any man or taking a second place. He is\nalways ready to bear the burden and the brunt. We recognise in this\naction of Christ that we have to do with One who shirks nothing, fears\nnothing, grudges nothing; who will substitute Himself for others\nwherever possible, if danger is abroad. So far as the character and\nhabit of Christ go, there is unquestionably here manifest a good\nfoundation for His substitution in our stead wheresoever such\nsubstitution is possible.\n\nIt is also in this scene, probably more than in any other, that we see\nthat the work Christ had come to do was one which He must do entirely by\nHimself. It is scarcely exaggeration to say He could employ no assistant\neven in its minor details. He did indeed send forth men to proclaim His\nkingdom, but it was to proclaim what He _alone did_. In His miracles He\ndid not use His disciples as a surgeon uses His assistants. Here in the\ngarden He explicitly puts the disciples aside and says that this\nquestion of the Messiahship is solely His affair. This separate,\nsolitary character of Christ's work is important: it reminds us of the\nexceptional dignity and greatness of it; it reminds us of the unique\ninsight and power possessed by Him who alone conceived and carried it\nthrough.\n\nThere is no question, then, of Christ's willingness to be our\nsubstitute; the question rather is, Is it possible that He should suffer\nfor our sin and so save us from suffering? and does this scene in the\ngarden help us to answer that question? That this scene, in common with\nthe whole work of Christ, had a meaning and relations deeper than those\nthat appear on the surface none of us doubts. The soldiers who arrested\nHim, the judges who condemned Him, saw nothing but the humble and meek\nprisoner, the bar of the Sanhedrim, the stripes of the Roman scourge,\nthe material cross and nails and blood; but all this had relations of\ninfinite reach, meaning of infinite depth. Through all that Christ did\nand suffered God was accomplishing the greatest of His designs, and if\nwe miss this Divine intention we miss the essential significance of\nthese events. The Divine intention was to save us from sin and give us\neternal life. This is accomplished by Christ's surrender of Himself to\nthis earthly life and all the anxiety, the temptation, the mental and\nspiritual strain which this involved. By revealing the Father's love to\nus He wins us back to the Father; and the Father's love was revealed in\nthe self-sacrificing suffering He necessarily endured in numbering\nHimself with sinners. Of Christ's satisfying the law by suffering the\npenalty under which we lay Paul has much to say. He explicitly affirms\nthat Christ bore and so abolished the curse or penalty of sin. But in\nthis Gospel there may indeed be hints of this same idea, but it is\nmainly another aspect of the work of Christ which is here presented. It\nis the exhibition of Christ's self-sacrificing love as a revelation of\nthe Father which is most prominent in the mind of John.\n\nWe can certainly say that Christ suffered our penalties in so far as a\nperfectly holy person can suffer them. The gnawing anguish of remorse He\nnever knew; the haunting anxieties of the wrong-doer were impossible to\nHim; the torment of ungratified desire, eternal severance from God, He\ncould not suffer; but other results and penalties of sin He suffered\nmore intensely than is possible to us. The agony of seeing men He loved\ndestroyed by sin, all the pain which a sympathetic and pure spirit must\nbear in a world like this, the contradiction of sinners, the provocation\nand shame which daily attended Him--all this He bore because of sin and\nfor us, that we might be saved from lasting sin and unrelieved misery.\nSo that even if we cannot take this scene in the garden as an exact\nrepresentation of the whole substitutionary work of Christ, we can say\nthat by suffering with and for us He has saved us from sin and restored\nus to life and to God.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[20] Luke xxii. 51.\n\n[21] Matt. xxvi. 53.\n\n\n\n\nXVIII.\n\n_PETER'S DENIAL AND REPENTANCE._\n\n\n    \"So the band and the chief captain, and the officers of the Jews,\n    seized Jesus and bound Him, and led Him to Annas first; for he was\n    father-in-law to Caiaphas, which was high priest that year. Now\n    Caiaphas was he which gave counsel to the Jews, that it was\n    expedient that one man should die for the people. And Simon Peter\n    followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. Now that disciple was\n    known unto the high priest, and entered in with Jesus into the court\n    of the high priest; but Peter was standing at the door without. So\n    the other disciple, which was known unto the high priest, went out\n    and spake unto her that kept the door, and brought in Peter. The\n    maid therefore that kept the door saith unto Peter, Art thou also\n    one of this man's disciples? He saith, I am not. Now the servants\n    and the officers were standing there, having made a fire of coals;\n    for it was cold; and they were warming themselves: and Peter also\n    was with them, standing and warming himself.... Now Simon Peter was\n    standing and warming himself. They said therefore unto him, Art thou\n    also one of His disciples? He denied, and said, I am not. One of the\n    servants of the high priest, being a kinsman of him whose ear Peter\n    cut off, saith, Did not I see thee in the garden with Him? Peter\n    therefore denied again: and straightway the cock crew.\"--JOHN xviii.\n    12-18, 25-27.\n\n\nThe examination of Jesus immediately followed His arrest. He was first\nled to Annas, who at once sent Him to Caiaphas, the high priest, that he\nmight carry out his policy of making one man a scapegoat for the\nnation.[22] To John the most memorable incident of this midnight hour\nwas Peter's denial of his Master. It happened on this wise. The high\npriest's palace was built, like other large Oriental houses, round a\nquadrangular court, into which entrance was gained by a passage running\nfrom the street through the front part of the house. This passage or\narchway is called in the Gospels the \"porch,\" and was closed at the end\nnext the street by a heavy folding gate with a wicket for single\npersons. This wicket was kept on this occasion by a maid. The interior\ncourt upon which this passage opened was paved or flagged and open to\nthe sky, and as the night was cold the attendants had made a fire here.\nThe rooms round the court, in one of which the examination of Jesus was\nproceeding, were open in front--separated, that is to say, from the\ncourt only by one or two pillars or arches and a railing, so that our\nLord could see and even hear Peter.\n\nWhen Jesus was led in bound to this palace, there entered with the crowd\nof soldiers and servants one at least of His disciples. He was in some\nway acquainted with the high priest, and presuming on this\nacquaintanceship followed to learn the fate of Jesus. He had seen Peter\nfollowing at a distance, and after a little he goes to the gate-keeper\nand induces her to open to his friend. The maid seeing the familiar\nterms on which these two men were, and knowing that one of them was a\ndisciple of Jesus, very naturally greets Peter with the exclamation,\n\"Art not thou also one of this man's disciples?\" Peter, confused by\nbeing suddenly confronted with so many hostile faces, and remembering\nthe blow he had struck in the garden, and that he was now in the place\nof all others where it was likely to be avenged, suddenly in a moment of\ninfatuation, and doubtless to the dismay of his fellow-disciple, denies\nall knowledge of Jesus. Having once committed himself, the two other\ndenials followed as matter of course.\n\nYet the third denial is more guilty than the first. Many persons are\nconscious that they have sometimes acted under what seems an\ninfatuation. They do not plead this in excuse for the wrong they have\ndone. They are quite aware that what has come out of them must have\nbeen in them, and that their acts, unaccountable as they seem, have\ndefinite roots in their character. Peter's first denial was the result\nof surprise and infatuation. But an hour seems to have elapsed between\nthe first and the third. He had time to think, time to remember his\nLord's warning, time to leave the place if he could do no better. But\none of those reckless moods which overtake good-hearted children seems\nto have overtaken Peter, for at the end of the hour he is talking right\nround the whole circle at the fire, not in monosyllables and guarded\nvoice, but in his own outspoken way, the most talkative of them all,\nuntil suddenly one whose ear was finer than the rest detected the\nGalilean accent, and says, \"You need not deny you are one of this man's\ndisciples, for your speech betrays you.\" Another, a kinsman of him whose\near Peter had cut off, strikes in and declares that he had seen him in\nthe garden. Peter, driven to extremities, hides his Galilean accent\nunder the strong oaths of the city, and with a volley of profane\nlanguage asseverates that he has no knowledge of Jesus. At this moment\nthe first examination of Jesus closes and He is led across the court:\nthe first chill of dawn is felt in the air, a cock crows, and as Jesus\npasses He looks upon Peter; the look and the cock-crow together bring\nPeter to himself, and he hurries out and weeps bitterly.\n\nThe remarkable feature of this sin of Peter's is that at first sight it\nseems so alien to his character. It was a lie; and he was unusually\nstraightforward. It was a heartless and cruel lie, and he was a man full\nof emotion and affection. It was a cowardly lie, even more cowardly than\ncommon lies, and yet he was exceptionally bold. Peter himself was quite\npositive that this at least was a sin he would never commit. \"Though\nall men should deny Thee, yet will not I.\" Neither was this a baseless\nboast. He was not a mere braggart, whose words found no correspondence\nin his deeds. Far from it; he was a hardy, somewhat over-venturesome\nman, accustomed to the risks of a fisherman's life, not afraid to fling\nhimself into a stormy sea, or to face the overwhelming armed force that\ncame to apprehend his Master, ready to fight for him single-handed, and\nquickly recovering from the panic which scattered his fellow-disciples.\nIf any of his companions had been asked at what point of Peter's\ncharacter the vulnerable spot would be found, not one of them would have\nsaid, \"He will fall through cowardice.\" Besides, Peter had a few hours\nbefore been so emphatically warned against denying Christ that he might\nhave been expected to stand firm this night at least.\n\nPerhaps it was this very warning which betrayed Peter. When he struck\nthe blow in the garden, he thought he had falsified his Lord's\nprediction. And when he found himself the only one who had courage to\nfollow to the palace, his besetting self-confidence returned and led him\ninto circumstances for which he was too weak. He was equal to the test\nof his courage which he was expecting, but when another kind of test was\napplied in circumstances and from a quarter he had not anticipated his\ncourage failed him utterly.\n\nPeter probably thought he might be brought bound with his Master before\nthe high priest, and had he been so he would probably have stood\nfaithful. But the devil who was sifting him had a much finer sieve than\nthat to run him through. He brought him to no formal trial, where he\ncould gird himself for a special effort, but to an unobserved, casual\nquestioning by a slave-girl. The whole trial was over before he knew he\nwas being tried. So do our most real trials come; in a business\ntransaction that turns up with others in the day's work, in the few\nminutes' talk or the evening's intercourse with friends, it is\ndiscovered whether we are so truly Christ's friends that we cannot\nforget Him or disguise that we are His. A word or two with a person he\nnever saw before and would never see again brought the great trial of\nPeter's life; and as unexpectedly shall we be tried. In these battles we\nmust all encounter, we receive no formal challenge that gives us time to\nchoose our ground and our weapons; but a sudden blow is dealt us, from\nwhich we can be saved only by habitually wearing a shirt of mail\nsufficient to turn it, and which we can carry into all companies.\n\nHad Peter distrusted himself and seriously accepted his Lord's warning,\nhe would have gone with the rest; but ever thinking of himself as able\nto do more than other men, faithful where others were faithless,\nconvinced where others hesitated, daring where others shrank, he once\nagain thrust himself forward, and so fell. For this self-confidence,\nwhich might to a careless observer seem to underprop Peter's courage,\nwas to the eye of the Lord undermining it. And if Peter's true bravery\nand promptitude were to serve the Church in days when fearless\nsteadfastness would be above all other qualities needed, his courage\nmust be sifted and the chaff of self-confidence thoroughly separated\nfrom it. In place of a courage which was sadly tainted with vanity and\nimpulsiveness Peter must acquire a courage based upon recognition of his\nown weakness and his Lord's strength. And it was this event which\nwrought this change in Peter's character.\n\nFrequently we learn by a very painful experience that our best qualities\nare tainted, and that actual disaster has entered our life from the very\nquarter we least suspected. We may be conscious that the deepest mark\nhas been made on our life by a sin apparently as alien to our character\nas cowardice and lying were to the too venturesome and outspoken\ncharacter of Peter. Possibly we once prided ourselves on our honesty,\nand felt happy in our upright character, plain-dealing, and direct\nspeech; but to our dismay we have been betrayed into double-dealing,\nequivocation, evasive or even fraudulent conduct. Or the time was when\nwe were proud of our friendships; it was frequently in our mind that,\nhowever unsatisfactory in other respects our character might be, we were\nat any rate faithful and helpful friends. Alas! events have proved that\neven in this particular we have failed, and have, through absorption in\nour own interests, acted inconsiderately and even cruelly to our friend,\nnot even recognising at the time how his interests were suffering. Or we\nare by nature of a cool temperament, and judged ourselves safe at least\nfrom the faults of impulse and passion; yet the mastering combination of\ncircumstances came, and we spoke the word, or wrote the letter, or did\nthe deed which broke our life past mending.\n\nNow, it was Peter's salvation, and it will be ours, when overtaken in\nthis unsuspected sin, to go out and weep bitterly. He did not\nfrivolously count it an accident that could never occur again; he did\nnot sullenly curse the circumstances that had betrayed and shamed him.\nHe recognised that there was that in him which could render useless his\nbest natural qualities, and that the sinfulness which could make his\nstrongest natural defences brittle as an egg-shell must be serious\nindeed. He had no choice but to be humbled before the eye of the Lord.\nThere was no need of words to explain and enforce his guilt: the eye can\nexpress what the tongue cannot utter. The finer, tenderer, deeper\nfeelings are left to the eye to express. The clear cock-crow strikes\nhome to his conscience, telling him that the very sin he had an hour or\ntwo ago judged impossible is now actually committed. That brief space\nhis Lord had named as sufficient to test his fidelity is gone, and the\nsound that strikes the hour rings with condemnation. Nature goes on in\nher accustomed, inexorable, unsympathetic round; but he is a fallen man,\nconvicted in his own conscience of empty vanity, of cowardice, of\nheartlessness. He who in his own eyes was so much better than the rest\nhad fallen lower than all. In the look of Christ Peter sees the\nreproachful loving tenderness of a wounded spirit, and understands the\ndimensions of his sin. That he, the most intimate disciple, should have\nadded to the bitterness of that hour, should not only have failed to\nhelp his Lord, but should actually at the crisis of His fate have added\nthe bitterest drop to His cup, was humbling indeed. There was that in\nChrist's look that made him feel the enormity of his guilt; there was\nthat also that softened him and saved him from sullen despair.\n\nAnd it is obvious that if we are to rise clear above the sin that has\nbetrayed us we can do so only by as lowly a penitence. We are all alike\nin this: that we have fallen; we cannot any more with justice think\nhighly of ourselves; we have sinned and are disgraced in our own eyes.\nIn this, I say, we are all alike; that which makes the difference among\nus is, how we deal with ourselves and our circumstances in connection\nwith our sin. It has been very well said by a keen observer of human\nnature that \"men and women are often more fairly judged by the way in\nwhich they bear the burden of their own deeds, the fashion in which they\ncarry themselves in their entanglements, than by the prime act which\nlaid the burden on their lives and made the entanglement fast knotted.\nThe deeper part of us shows in the manner of accepting consequences.\"\nThe reason of this is that, like Peter, we are often _betrayed_ by a\nweakness; the part of our nature which is least able to face difficulty\nis assaulted by a combination of circumstances which may never again\noccur in our life. There was guilt, great guilt it may be, concerned in\nour fall, but it was not deliberate, wilful wickedness. But in our\ndealing with our sin and its consequences our whole nature is concerned\nand searched; the real bent and strength of our will is tried. We are\ntherefore in a crisis, _the_ crisis, of our life. Can we accept the\nsituation? Can we humbly, frankly own that, since that evil has appeared\nin our life, it must have been, however unconsciously, in ourselves\nfirst? Can we with the genuine manliness and wisdom of a broken heart\nsay to ourselves and to God, Yes, it is true I am the wretched, pitiful,\nbad-hearted creature that was capable of doing, and did that thing? I\ndid not think that was my character; I did not think it was in me to\nsink so very low; but now I see what I am. Do we thus, like Peter, go\nout and weep bitterly?\n\nEvery one who has passed through a time such as this single night was to\nPeter knows the strain that is laid upon the soul, and how very hard it\nis to yield utterly. So much rises up in self-defence; so much strength\nis lost by the mere perplexity and confusion of the thing; so much is\nlost in the despondency that follows these sad revelations of our\ndeep-seated evil. What is the use, we think, of striving, if even in\nthe point in which I thought myself most secure I have fallen? What is\nthe meaning of so perplexed and deceiving a warfare? Why was I exposed\nto so fatal an influence? So Peter, had he taken the wrong direction,\nmight have resented the whole course of the temptation, and might have\nsaid, Why did Christ not warn me by His look before I sinned, instead of\nbreaking me by it after? Why had I no inkling of the enormity of the sin\nbefore as I have after the sin? My reputation now is gone among the\ndisciples; I may as well go back to my old obscure life and forget all\nabout these perplexing scenes and strange spiritualities. But Peter,\nthough he was cowed by a maid, was man enough and Christian enough to\nreject such falsities and subterfuges. It is true we did not see the\nenormity, never do see the enormity, of the sin until it is committed;\nbut is it possible it can be otherwise? Is not this the way in which a\nblunt conscience is educated? Nothing seems so bad until it finds place\nin our own life and haunts us. Neither need we despond or sour because\nwe are disgraced in our own eyes, or even in the eyes of others; for we\nare hereby summoned to build for ourselves a new and different\nreputation with God and our own consciences--a reputation founded on a\nbasis of reality and not of seeming.\n\nIt may be worth while to note the characteristics and danger of that\nspecial form of weakness which Peter here exhibited. We commonly call it\nmoral cowardice. It is originally a weakness rather than a positive sin,\nand yet it is probably as prolific of sin and even of great crime as any\nof the more definite and vigorous passions of our nature, such as hate,\nlust, avarice. It is that weakness which prompts a man to avoid\ndifficulties, to escape everything rough and disagreeable, to yield to\ncircumstances, and which above all makes him incapable of facing the\nreproach, contempt, or opposition of his fellow-men. It is often found\nin combination with much amiability of character. It is commonly found\nin persons who have some natural leanings to virtue, and who, if\ncircumstances would only favour them, would prefer to lead, and would\nlead, at least an inoffensive and respectable, if not a very useful,\nnoble, or heroic life. Finely strung natures that are very sensitive to\nall impressions from without, natures which thrill and vibrate in\nresponse to a touching tale or in sympathy with fine scenery or soft\nmusic, natures which are housed in bodies of delicate nervous\ntemperament, are commonly keenly sensitive to the praise or blame of\ntheir fellows, and are therefore liable to moral cowardice, though by no\nmeans necessarily a prey to it.\n\nThe examples of its ill-effects are daily before our eyes. A man cannot\nbear the coolness of a friend or the contempt of a leader of opinion,\nand so he stifles his own independent judgment and goes with the\nmajority. A minister of the Church finds his faith steadily diverging\nfrom that of the creed he has subscribed, but he cannot proclaim this\nchange because he cannot make up his mind to be the subject of public\nastonishment and remark, of severe scrutiny on the one side and still\nmore distasteful because ignorant and canting sympathy on the other. A\nman in business finds that his expenditure exceeds his income, but he is\nunable to face the shame of frankly lowering his position and curtailing\nhis expenses, and so he is led into dishonest appearances; and from\ndishonest appearances to fraudulent methods of keeping them up the\nstep, as we all know, is short. Or in trade a man knows that there are\nshameful, contemptible, and silly practices, and yet he has not moral\ncourage to break through them. A parent cannot bear to risk the loss of\nhis child's good-will even for an hour, and so omits the chastisement he\ndeserves. The schoolboy, fearing his parents' look of disappointment,\nsays he stands higher in his class than he does; or fearing to be\nthought soft and unmanly by his schoolfellows, sees cruelty or a cheat\nor some wickedness perpetrated without a word of honest anger or manly\ncondemnation. All this is moral cowardice, the vice which brings us down\nto the low level which bold sinners set for us, or which at any rate\nsweeps the weak soul down to a thousand perils, and absolutely forbids\nthe good there is in us from finding expression.\n\nBut of all the forms into which moral cowardice develops this of denying\nthe Lord Jesus is the most iniquitous and disgraceful. One of the\nfashions of the day which is most rapidly extending and which many of us\nhave opportunity to resist is the fashion of infidelity. Much of the\nstrongest and best-trained intellect of the country ranges itself\nagainst Christianity--that is, against Christ. No doubt the men who have\nled this movement have adopted their opinions on conviction. They deny\nthe authority of Scripture, the divinity of Christ, even the existence\nof a personal God, because by long years of painful thought they have\nbeen forced to such conclusions. Even the best of them cannot be\nacquitted of a contemptuous and bitter way of speaking of Christians,\nwhich would seem to indicate that they are not quite at ease in their\nbelief. Still, we cannot but think that so far as any men can be quite\nunbiassed in their opinions, they are so; and we have no right to judge\nother men for their honestly formed opinions. The moral cowards of whom\nwe speak are not these men, but their followers, persons who with no\npatience or capacity to understand their reasonings adopt their\nconclusions because they seem advanced and are peculiar. There are many\npersons of slender reading and no depth of earnestness who, without\nspending any serious effort on the formation of their religious belief,\npresume to disseminate unbelief and treat the Christian creed as an\nobsolete thing merely because part of the intellect of the day leans in\nthat direction. Weakness and cowardice are the real spring of such\npersons' apparent advance and new position regarding religion. They are\nashamed to be reckoned among those who are thought to be behind the age.\nAsk them for a reason of their unbelief, and they are either unable to\ngive you any, or else they repeat a time-worn objection which has been\nanswered so often that men have wearied of the interminable task and let\nit pass unnoticed.\n\nSuch persons we aid and abet when we do either of two things: when we\neither cleave to what is old as unreasoningly as they take up with what\nis new, refusing to look for fresh light and better ways and acting as\nif we were already perfect; or when we yield to the current and adopt a\nhesitating way of speaking about matters of faith, when we _cultivate_ a\nsceptical spirit and seem to connive at if we do not applaud the cold,\nirreligious sneer of ungodly men. Above all, we aid the cause of\ninfidelity when in our own life we are ashamed to live godly, to act on\nhigher principles than the current prudential maxims, when we hold our\nallegiance to Christ in abeyance to our fear of our associates, when we\nfind no way of showing that Christ is our Lord and that we delight in\nopportunities of confessing Him. The confessing of Christ is a duty\nexplicitly imposed on all those who expect that He will acknowledge them\nas His. It is a duty to which we might suppose every manly and generous\ninstinct in us would eagerly respond, and yet we are often more ashamed\nof our connection with the loftiest and holiest of beings than of our\nown pitiful and sin-infected selves, and as little practically\nstimulated and actuated by a true gratitude to Him as if His death were\nthe commonest boon and as if we were expecting and needing no help from\nHim in the time that is yet to come.[23]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[22] There is a difficulty in tracing the movements of Jesus at this\npoint. John tells us He was led to Annas first, and at ver. 24 he says\nthat Annas sent Him to Caiaphas. We should naturally conclude,\ntherefore, that the preceding examination was conducted by Annas. But\nCaiaphas has been expressly indicated as chief priest, and it is by the\nchief priest and in the chief priest's palace the examination is\nconducted. The name \"chief priest\" was not confined to the one actually\nin office, but was applied to all who had held the office, and might\ntherefore be applied to Annas. Possibly the examination recorded vv.\n19-23 was before him, and probably he was living with his son-in-law in\nthe palace of the chief priest.\n\n[23] Some of the ideas in this chapter were suggested by a sermon of\nBishop Temple's.\n\n\n\n\nXIX.\n\n_JESUS BEFORE PILATE._\n\n\n    \"They led Jesus therefore from Caiaphas into the palace: and it was\n    early; and they themselves entered not into the palace, that they\n    might not be defiled, but might eat the Passover. Pilate therefore\n    went out unto them, and saith, What accusation bring ye against this\n    man? They answered and said unto him, If this man were not an\n    evil-doer, we should not have delivered Him up unto thee. Pilate\n    therefore said unto them, Take Him yourselves, and judge Him\n    according to your law. The Jews said unto him, It is not lawful for\n    us to put any man to death: that the word of Jesus might be\n    fulfilled, which He spake, signifying by what manner of death He\n    should die. Pilate therefore entered again into the palace, and\n    called Jesus, and said unto Him, Art Thou the King of the Jews?\n    Jesus answered, Sayest thou this of thyself, or did others tell it\n    thee concerning Me? Pilate answered, Am I a Jew? Thine own nation\n    and the chief priests delivered Thee unto me: what hast Thou done?\n    Jesus answered, My kingdom is not of this world: if My kingdom were\n    of this world, then would My servants fight, that I should not be\n    delivered to the Jews: but now is My kingdom not from hence. Pilate\n    therefore said unto Him, Art Thou a king then? Jesus answered, Thou\n    sayest that I am a king. To this end have I been born, and to this\n    end am I come into the world, that I should bear witness unto the\n    truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth My voice. Pilate saith\n    unto Him, What is truth? And when he had said this, he went out\n    again unto the Jews, and saith unto them, I find no crime in Him.\n    But ye have a custom, that I should release unto you one at the\n    Passover: will ye therefore that I release unto you the King of the\n    Jews? They cried out therefore again, saying, Not this man, but\n    Barabbas. Now Barabbas was a robber. Then Pilate therefore took\n    Jesus, and scourged Him. And the soldiers plaited a crown of thorns,\n    and put it on His head, and arrayed Him in a purple garment; and\n    they came unto Him, and said, Hail, King of the Jews! and they\n    struck Him with their hands. And Pilate went out again, and saith\n    unto them, Behold I bring Him out to you, that ye may know that I\n    find no crime in Him. Jesus therefore came out, wearing the crown of\n    thorns and the purple garment. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold,\n    the man! When therefore the chief priests and the officers saw Him,\n    they cried out, saying, Crucify Him, crucify Him. Pilate saith unto\n    them, Take Him yourselves, and crucify Him: for I find no crime in\n    Him. The Jews answered him, We have a law, and by that law He ought\n    to die, because He made Himself the Son of God. When Pilate\n    therefore heard this saying he was the more afraid; and he entered\n    into the palace again, and saith unto Jesus, Whence art Thou? But\n    Jesus gave him no answer. Pilate therefore saith unto Him, Speakest\n    Thou not unto me? knowest Thou not that I have power to release\n    Thee, and have power to crucify Thee? Jesus answered Him, Thou\n    wouldest have no power against Me, except it were given thee from\n    above: therefore he that delivered Me unto thee hath greater sin.\n    Upon this Pilate sought to release Him: but the Jews cried out,\n    saying, If thou release this man, thou art not Caesar's friend: every\n    one that maketh himself a king speaketh against Caesar. When Pilate\n    therefore heard these words, he brought Jesus out, and sat down on\n    the judgment-seat at a place called The Pavement, but in Hebrew,\n    Gabbatha. Now it was the preparation of the Passover: it was about\n    the sixth hour. And he saith unto the Jews, Behold, your King! They\n    therefore cried out, Away with Him, away with Him, crucify Him.\n    Pilate saith unto them, Shall I crucify your King? The chief priests\n    answered, We have no king but Caesar. Then therefore he delivered Him\n    unto them to be crucified.\"--JOHN xviii. 28-xix. 16.\n\n\nJohn tells us very little of the examination of Jesus by Annas and\nCaiaphas, but he dwells at considerable length on His trial by Pilate.\nThe reason of this different treatment is probably to be found in the\nfact that the trial before the Sanhedrim was ineffective until the\ndecision had been ratified by Pilate, as well as in the circumstance\nnoted by John that the decision of Caiaphas was a foregone conclusion.\nCaiaphas was an unscrupulous politician who allowed nothing to stand\nbetween him and his objects. To the weak councillors who had expressed a\nfear that it might be difficult to convict a person so innocent as Jesus\nhe said with supreme contempt: \"Ye know nothing at all. Do you not see\nthe opportunity we have of showing our zeal for the Roman Government by\nsacrificing this man who claims to be King of the Jews? Innocent of\ncourse He is, and all the better so, for the Romans cannot think He dies\nfor robbery or wrong-doing. He is a Galilean of no consequence,\nconnected with no good family who might revenge His death.\" This was the\nscheme of Caiaphas. He saw that the Romans were within a very little of\nterminating the incessant troubles of this Judaean province by enslaving\nthe whole population and devastating the land; this catastrophe might\nbe staved off a few years by such an exhibition of zeal for Rome as\ncould be made in the public execution of Jesus.\n\nSo far as Caiaphas and his party were concerned, then, Jesus was\nprejudged. His trial was not an examination to discover whether He was\nguilty or innocent, but a cross-questioning which aimed at betraying Him\ninto some acknowledgment which might give colour to the sentence of\ndeath already decreed. Caiaphas or Annas[24] invites Him to give some\naccount of His disciples and of His doctrines. In some cases His\ndisciples carried arms, and among them was one zealot, and there might\nbe others known to the authorities as dangerous or suspected characters.\nAnd Annas might expect that in giving some account of His teaching the\nhonesty of Jesus might betray Him into expressions which could easily be\nconstrued to His prejudice. But he is disappointed. Jesus replies that\nit is not for Him, arraigned and bound as a dangerous prisoner, to give\nevidence against Himself. Thousands had heard Him in all parts of the\ncountry. He had delivered those supposed inflammatory addresses not to\nmidnight gatherings and secret societies, but in the most public places\nHe could find--in the Temple, from which no Jew was excluded, and in the\nsynagogues, where official teachers were commonly present. Annas is\nsilenced; and mortified though he is, he has to accept the ruling of his\nprisoner as indicating the lines on which the trial should proceed. His\nmortification does not escape the notice of one of those poor creatures\nwho are ever ready to curry favour with the great by cruelty towards the\ndefenceless, or at the best of that large class of men who cannot\ndistinguish between official and real dignity; and the first of those\ninsults is given to the hitherto sacred person of Jesus, the first of\nthat long series of blows struck by a dead, conventional religion\nseeking to quench the truth and the life of what threatens its slumber\nwith awakening.\n\nHad the Roman governor not been present in the city the high priests and\ntheir party might have ventured to carry into effect their own sentence.\nBut Pilate had already shown during his six years of office that he was\nnot a man to overlook anything like contempt of his supremacy. Besides,\nthey were not quite sure of the temper of the people; and a rescue, or\neven an attempted rescue, of their prisoner would be disastrous.\nPrudence therefore bids them hand Him over to Pilate, who had both legal\nauthority to put Him to death and means to quell any popular\ndisturbance. Besides, the purpose of Caiaphas could better be served by\nbringing before the governor this claimant to the Messiahship.\n\nPilate was present in Jerusalem at this time in accordance with the\ncustom of the Roman procurators of Judaea, who came up annually from\ntheir usual residence at Caesarea to the Jewish capital for the double\npurpose of keeping order while the city was crowded with all kinds of\npersons who came up to the feast, and of trying cases reserved for his\ndecision. And the Jews no doubt thought it would be easy to persuade a\nman who, as they knew to their cost, set a very low value on human blood\nto add one victim more to the robbers or insurgents who might be\nawaiting execution. Accordingly, as soon as day dawned and they dared to\ndisturb the governor, they put Jesus in chains as a condemned criminal\nand led Him away, all their leading men following, to the quarters of\nPilate, either in the fortress Antonia or in the magnificent palace of\nHerod. Into this palace, being the abode of a Gentile, they could not\nenter lest they should contract pollution and incapacitate themselves\nfor eating the Passover,--the culminating instance of religious\nscrupulosity going hand in hand with cruel and blood-thirsty\ncriminality. Pilate with scornful allowance for their scruples goes out\nto them, and with the Roman's instinctive respect for the forms of\njustice demands the charge brought against this prisoner, in whose\nappearance the quick eye so long trained to read the faces of criminals\nis at a loss to discover any index to His crime.\n\nThis apparent intention on Pilate's part, if not to reopen the case at\nleast to revise their procedure, is resented by the party of Caiaphas,\nwho exclaim, \"If He were not a malefactor we would not have delivered\nHim up unto thee. Take our word for it; He is guilty; do not scruple to\nput Him to death.\" But if they were indignant that Pilate should propose\nto revise their decision, he is not less so that they should presume to\nmake him their mere executioner. All the Roman pride of office, all the\nRoman contempt and irritation at this strange Jewish people, come out in\nhis answer, \"If you will make no charge against Him and refuse to allow\nme to judge Him, take Him yourselves and do what you can with Him,\"\nknowing well that they dared not inflict death without his sanction, and\nthat this taunt would pierce home. The taunt they did feel, although\nthey could not afford to show that they felt it, but contented\nthemselves with laying the charge that He had forbidden the people to\ngive tribute to Caesar and claimed to be Himself a king.\n\nAs Roman law permitted the examination to be conducted within the\npraetorium, though the judgment must be pronounced outside in public,\nPilate re-enters the palace and has Jesus brought in, so that apart from\nthe crowd he may examine Him. At once he puts the direct question,\nGuilty or not guilty of this political offence with which you stand\ncharged?--\"Art Thou the King of the Jews?\" But to this direct question\nJesus cannot give a direct answer, because the words may have one sense\nin the lips of Pilate, another in His own. Before He answers He must\nfirst know in which sense Pilate uses the words. He asks therefore,\n\"Sayest thou this thing of thyself, or did others tell it thee?\" Are you\ninquiring because you are yourself concerned in this question? or are\nyou merely uttering a question which others have put in your mouth? To\nwhich Pilate with some heat and contempt replies, \"Am I a Jew? How can\nyou expect me to take any personal interest in the matter? Thine own\nnation and the chief priests have delivered Thee unto me.\"\n\nPilate, that is to say, scouts the idea that he should take any interest\nin questions about the Messiah of the Jews. And yet was it not possible\nthat, like some of his subordinates, centurions and others, he too\nshould perceive the spiritual grandeur of Jesus and should not be\nprevented by his heathen upbringing from seeking to belong to this\nkingdom of God? May not Pilate also be awakened to see that man's true\ninheritance is the world unseen? may not that expression of fixed\nmelancholy, of hard scorn, of sad, hopeless, proud indifference, give\nplace to the humble eagerness of the inquiring soul? may not the heart\nof a child come back to that bewildered and world-encrusted soul? Alas!\nthis is too much for Roman pride. He cannot in presence of this bound\nJew acknowledge how little life has satisfied him. He finds the\ndifficulty so many find in middle life of frankly showing that they have\nin their nature deeper desires than the successes of life satisfy. There\nis many a man who seals up his deeper instincts and does violence to his\nbetter nature because, having begun his life on worldly lines, he is too\nproud now to change, and crushes down, to his own eternal hurt, the\nstirrings of a better mind within him, and turns from the gentle\nwhisperings that would fain bring eternal hope to his heart.\n\nIt is possible that Jesus by His question meant to suggest to Pilate the\nactual relation in which this present trial stood to His previous trial\nby Caiaphas. For nothing could more distinctly mark the baseness and\nmalignity of the Jews than their manner of shifting ground when they\nbrought Jesus before Pilate. The Sanhedrim had condemned Him, not for\nclaiming to be King of the Jews, for that was not a capital offence, but\nfor assuming Divine dignity. But that which in their eyes was a crime\nwas none in the judgment of Roman law; it was useless to bring Him\nbefore Pilate and accuse Him of blasphemy. They therefore accused Him of\nassuming to be King of the Jews. Here, then, were the Jews \"accusing\nJesus before the Roman governor of that which, in the first place, they\nknew that Jesus denied in the sense in which they urged it, and which,\nin the next place, had the charge been true, would have been so far from\na crime in their eyes that it would have been popular with the whole\nnation.\"\n\nBut as Pilate might very naturally misunderstand the character of the\nclaim made by the accused, Jesus in a few words gives him clearly to\nunderstand that the kingdom He sought to establish could not come into\ncollision with that which Pilate represented: \"My kingdom is not of this\nworld.\" The most convincing proof had been given of the spiritual\ncharacter of the kingdom in the fact that Jesus did not allow the sword\nto be used in forwarding His claims. \"If My kingdom were of this world,\nthen would My servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the\nJews: but now is My kingdom not from hence.\" This did not quite satisfy\nPilate. He thought that still some mystery of danger might lurk behind\nthe words of Jesus. There was nothing more acutely dreaded by the early\nemperors than secret societies. It might be some such association Jesus\nintended to form. To allow such a society to gain influence in his\nprovince would be a gross oversight on Pilate's part. He therefore\nseizes upon the apparent admission of Jesus and pushes Him further with\nthe question, \"Thou art a king then?\" But the answer of Jesus removes\nall fear from the mind of His judge. He claims only to be a king of the\ntruth, attracting to Himself all who are drawn by a love of truth. This\nwas enough for Pilate. \"Aletheia\" was a country beyond his jurisdiction,\na Utopia which could not injure the Empire. \"Tush!\" he says, \"what is\nAletheia? Why speak to me of ideal worlds? What concern have I with\nprovinces that can yield no tribute and offer no armed resistance?\"\n\nPilate, convinced of the innocence of Jesus, makes several attempts to\nsave Him. All these attempts failed, because, instead of at once and\ndecidedly proclaiming His innocence and demanding His acquittal, he\nsought at the same time to propitiate His accusers. One generally\nexpects from a Roman governor some knowledge of men and some\nfearlessness in his use of that knowledge. Pilate shows neither. His\nfirst step in dealing with the accusers of Jesus is a fatal mistake.\nInstead of at once going to his judgment-seat and pronouncing\nauthoritatively the acquittal of his Prisoner, and clearing his court of\nall riotously disposed persons, he in one breath declared Jesus innocent\nand proposed to treat Him as guilty, offering to release Him as a boon\nto the Jews. A weaker proposal could scarcely have been made. There was\nnothing, absolutely nothing, to induce the Jews to accept it, but in\nmaking it he showed a disposition to treat with them--a disposition they\ndid not fail to make abundant use of in the succeeding scenes of this\ndisgraceful day. This first departure from justice lowered him to their\nown level and removed the only bulwark he had against their insolence\nand blood-thirstiness. Had he acted as any upright judge would have\nacted and at once put his Prisoner beyond reach of their hatred, they\nwould have shrunk like cowed wild beasts; but his first concession put\nhim in their power, and from this point onwards there is exhibited one\nof the most lamentable spectacles in history,--a man in power tossed\nlike a ball between his convictions and his fears; a Roman not without a\ncertain doggedness and cynical hardness that often pass for strength of\ncharacter, but held up here to view as a sample of the weakness that\nresults from the vain attempt to satisfy both what is bad and what is\ngood in us.\n\nHis second attempt to save Jesus from death was more unjust and as\nfutile as the first. He scourges the Prisoner whose innocence he had\nhimself declared, possibly under the idea that if nothing was confessed\nby Jesus under this torture it might convince the Jews of His innocence,\nbut more probably under the impression that they might be satisfied when\nthey saw Jesus bleeding and fainting from the scourge. The Roman\nscourge was a barbarous instrument, its heavy thongs being loaded with\nmetal and inlaid with bone, every cut of which tore away the flesh. But\nif Pilate fancied that when the Jews saw this lacerated form they would\npity and relent, he greatly mistook the men he had to do with. He failed\nto take into account the common principle that when you have wrongfully\ninjured a man you hate him all the more. Many a man becomes a murderer,\nnot by premeditation, but having struck a first blow and seeing his\nvictim in agony he cannot bear that that eye should live to reproach him\nand that tongue to upbraid him with his cruelty. So it was here. The\npeople were infuriated by the sight of the innocent, unmurmuring\nSufferer whom they had thus mangled. They cannot bear that such an\nobject be left to remind them of their barbarity, and with one fierce\nyell of fury they cry, \"Crucify Him, crucify Him.\"[25]\n\nA third time Pilate refused to be the instrument of their inhuman and\nunjust rage, and flung the Prisoner on their hands: \"Take Him\nyourselves, and crucify Him: for I find no crime in Him.\" But when the\nJews answered that by their law He ought to die, because \"He made\nHimself the Son of God,\" Pilate was again seized with dread, and\nwithdrew his Prisoner for the fourth time into the palace. Already he\nhad remarked in His demeanour a calm superiority which made it seem\nquite possible that this extraordinary claim might be true. The books he\nhad read at school and the poems he had heard since he grew up had told\nstories of how the gods had sometimes come down and dwelt with men. He\nhad long since discarded such beliefs as mere fictions. Still, there was\nsomething in the bearing of this Prisoner before him that awakened the\nold impression, that possibly this single planet with its visible\npopulation was not the whole universe, that there might be some other\nunseen region out of which Divine beings looked down upon earth with\npity, and from which they might come and visit us on some errand of\nlove. With anxiety written on his face and heard in his tone he asks,\n\"Whence art Thou?\" How near does this man always seem to be to breaking\nthrough the thin veil and entering with illumined vision into the\nspiritual world, the world of truth and right and God! Would not a word\nnow from Jesus have given him entrance? Would not the repetition of the\nsolemn affirmation of His divinity which He had given to the Sanhedrim\nhave been the one thing wanted in Pilate's case, the one thing to turn\nthe scale in the favour of Jesus? At first sight it might seem so; but\nso it seemed not to the Lord. He preserves an unbroken silence to the\nquestion on which Pilate seems to hang in an earnest suspense. And\ncertainly this silence is by no means easy to account for. Shall we say\nthat He was acting out His own precept, \"Give not that which is holy to\ndogs\"? Shall we say that He who knew what was in man saw that though\nPilate was for the moment alarmed and in earnest, yet there was beneath\nthat earnestness an ineradicable vacillation? It is very possible that\nthe treatment He had received at Pilate's hand had convinced Him that\nPilate would eventually yield to the Jews; and what need, then, of\nprotracting the process? No man who has any dignity and self-respect\nwill make declarations about his character which he sees will do no\ngood: no man is bound to be at the beck of every one to answer\naccusations they may bring against him; by doing so he will often only\ninvolve himself in miserable, petty wranglings, and profit no one. Jesus\ntherefore was not going to make revelations about Himself which He saw\nwould only make Him once again a shuttlecock driven between the two\ncontending parties.\n\nBesides--and this probably is the main reason of the silence--Pilate was\nnow forgetting altogether the relation between himself and his Prisoner.\nJesus had been accused before him on a definite charge which he had\nfound to be baseless. He ought therefore to have released Him. This new\ncharge of the Jews was one of which Pilate could not take cognisance;\nand of this Jesus reminds him by His silence. Jesus might have made\ninfluence for Himself by working upon the superstition of Pilate; but\nthis was not to be thought of.\n\nOffended at His silence, Pilate exclaims: \"Speakest Thou not unto me?\nKnowest Thou not that I have power to release Thee, and have power to\ncrucify Thee?\" Here was an unwonted kind of prisoner who would not curry\nfavour with His judge. But instead of entreating Pilate to use this\npower in His favour Jesus replies: \"Thou wouldest have no power against\nMe, except it were given thee from above; therefore he that delivered Me\nunto thee hath greater sin.\" Pilate's office was the ordinance of God,\nand therefore his judgments should express the justice and will of God;\nand it was this which made the sin of Caiaphas and the Jews so great:\nthey were making use of a Divine ordinance to serve their own\nGod-resisting purposes. Had Pilate been a mere irresponsible executioner\ntheir sin would have been sufficiently heinous; but in using an\nofficial who is God's representative of law, order, and justice to\nfulfil their own wicked and unjust designs they recklessly prostitute\nGod's ordinance of justice and involve themselves in a darker\ncriminality.\n\nMore impressed than ever by this powerful statement falling from the\nlips of a man weakened by the scourging, Pilate makes one more effort to\nsave Him. But now the Jews play their last card and play it\nsuccessfully. \"If thou release this man, thou art not Caesar's friend.\"\nTo lay himself open to a charge of treason or neglect of the interests\nof Caesar was what Pilate could not risk. At once his compassion for the\nPrisoner, his sense of justice, his apprehensions, his proud\nunwillingness to let the Jews have their way, are overcome by his fear\nof being reported to the most suspicious of emperors. He prepared to\ngive his judgment, taking his place on the official seat, which stood on\na tesselated pavement, called in Aramaic \"Gabbatha,\" from its elevated\nposition in sight of the crowds standing outside. Here, after venting\nhis spleen in the weak sarcasm \"Shall I crucify your King?\" he formally\nhands over his Prisoner to be crucified. This decision was at last come\nto, as John records, about noon of the day which prepared for and\nterminated in the Paschal Supper.\n\nPilate's vacillation receives from John a long and careful treatment.\nLight is shed upon it, and upon the threat which forced him at last to\nmake up his mind, from the account which Philo gives of his character\nand administration. \"With a view,\" he says, \"to vex the Jews, Pilate\nhung up some gilt shields in the palace of Herod, which they judged a\nprofanation of the holy city, and therefore petitioned him to remove\nthem. But when he steadfastly refused to do so, for he was a man of\nvery inflexible disposition and very merciless as well as very\nobstinate, they cried out, 'Beware of causing a tumult, for Tiberius\nwill not sanction this act of yours; and if you say that he will, we\nourselves will go to him and supplicate your master.' This threat\nexasperated Pilate in the highest degree, as he feared that they might\nreally go to the Emperor and impeach him with respect to other acts of\nhis government--his corruption, his acts of insolence, his habit of\ninsulting people, his cruelty, his continual murders of people untried\nand uncondemned, and his never-ending and gratuitous and most grievous\ninhumanity. Therefore, being exceedingly angry, and being at all times a\nman of most ferocious passions, he was in great perplexity, neither\nventuring to take down what he had once set up nor wishing to do\nanything which could be acceptable to his subjects, and yet fearing the\nanger of Tiberius. And those who were in power among the Jews, seeing\nthis and perceiving that he was inclined to change his mind as to what\nhe had done, but that he was not willing to be thought to do so,\nappealed to the Emperor.\"[26] This sheds light on the whole conduct of\nPilate during this trial--his fear of the Emperor, his hatred of the\nJews and desire to annoy them, his vacillation and yet obstinacy; and we\nsee that the mode the Sanhedrim now adopted with Pilate was their usual\nmode of dealing with him: now, as always, they saw his vacillation,\ndisguised as it was by fierceness of speech, and they knew he must yield\nto the threat of complaining to Caesar.\n\nThe very thing that Pilate feared, and to avoid which he sacrificed the\nlife of our Lord, came upon him six years after. Complaints against him\nwere sent to the Emperor; he was deposed from his office, and so\nstripped of all that made life endurable to him, that, \"wearied with\nmisfortunes,\" he died by his own hand. Perhaps we are tempted to think\nPilate's fate severe; we naturally sympathise with him; there are so\nmany traits of character which show well when contrasted with the\nunprincipled violence of the Jews. We are apt to say he was weak rather\nthan wicked, forgetting that moral weakness is just another name for\nwickedness, or rather is that which makes a man capable of any\nwickedness. The man we call wicked has his one or two good points at\nwhich we can be sure of him. The weak man we are never sure of. That he\nhas good feelings is nothing, for we do not know what may be brought to\novercome these feelings. That he has right convictions is nothing; we\nmay have thought he was convinced to-day, but to-morrow his old fears\nhave prevailed. And who is the weak man who is thus open to every kind\nof influence? He is the man who is not single-minded. The single-minded,\nworldly man makes no pretension to holiness, but sees at a glance that\nthat interferes with his real object; the single-minded, godly man has\nonly truth and righteousness for his aim, and does not listen to fears\nor hopes suggested by the world. But the man who attempts to gratify\nboth his conscience and his evil or weak feelings, the man who fancies\nhe can so manipulate the events of his life as to secure his own selfish\nends as well as the great ends of justice and righteousness, will often\nbe in as great a perplexity as Pilate, and will come to as ruinous if\nnot to so appalling an end.\n\nIn this would-be equitable Roman governor, exhibiting his weakness to\nthe people and helplessly exclaiming, \"What shall I do with Jesus which\nis called Christ?\"[27] we see the predicament of many who are suddenly\nconfronted with Christ--disconcerted as they are to have such a prisoner\nthrown on their hands, and wishing that anything had turned up rather\nthan a necessity for answering this question, What shall I do with\nJesus? Probably when Jesus was led by the vacillating Pilate out and in,\nback and forward, examined and re-examined, acquitted, scourged,\ndefended, and abandoned to His enemies, some pity for His judge mingled\nwith other feelings in His mind. This was altogether too great a case\nfor a man like Pilate, fit enough to try men like Barabbas and to keep\nthe turbulent Galileans in order. What unhappy fate, he might afterwards\nthink, had brought this mysterious Prisoner to his judgment-seat, and\nfor ever linked in such unhappy relation his name to the Name that is\nabove every name? Never with more disastrous results did the resistless\nstream of time bring together and clash together the earthen and the\nbrazen pitcher. Never before had such a prisoner stood at any judge's\nbar. Roman governors and emperors had been called to doom or to acquit\nkings and potentates of all degrees and to determine every kind of\nquestion, forbidding this or that religion, extirpating old dynasties,\naltering old landmarks, making history in its largest dimensions; but\nPilate was summoned to adjudicate in a case that seemed of no\nconsequence at all, yet really eclipsed in its importance all other\ncases put together.\n\nNothing could save Pilate from the responsibility attaching to his\nconnection with Jesus, and nothing can save us from the responsibility\nof determining what judgment we are to pronounce on this same Person.\nIt may seem to us an unfortunate predicament we are placed in; we may\nresent being called upon to do anything decided in a matter where our\nconvictions so conflict with our desires; we may inwardly protest\nagainst human life being obstructed and disturbed by choices that are so\npressing and so difficult and with issues so incalculably serious. But\nsecond thoughts assure us that to be confronted with Christ is in truth\nfar from being an unfortunate predicament, and that to be compelled to\ndecisions which determine our whole after-course and allow fullest\nexpression of our own will and spiritual affinities is our true glory.\nChrist stands patiently awaiting our decision, maintaining His\ninalienable majesty, but submitting Himself to every test we care to\napply, claiming only to be the King of the truth by whom we are admitted\ninto that sole eternal kingdom. It has come to be our turn, as it came\nto be Pilate's, to decide upon His claims and to act upon our\ndecision--to recognise that we men have to do, not merely with pleasure\nand place, with earthly rewards and relations, but above all with the\ntruth, with that which gives eternal significance to all these present\nthings, with the truth about human life, with the truth embodied for us\nin Christ's person and speaking intelligibly to us through His lips,\nwith God manifest in the flesh. Are we to take part with Him when He\ncalls us to glory and to virtue, to the truth and to eternal life, or\nyielding to some present pressure the world puts upon us attempt some\nfutile compromise and so renounce our birthright?\n\nCould Pilate really persuade himself he made everything right with a\nbasin of water and a theatrical transference of his responsibility to\nthe Jews? Could he persuade himself that by merely giving up the\ncontest he was playing the part of a judge and of a man? Could he\npersuade himself that the mere words, \"I am innocent of the blood of\nthis righteous man: see ye to it,\" altered his relation to the death of\nChrist? No doubt he did. There is nothing commoner than for a man to\nthink himself forced when it is his own fear or wickedness that is his\nonly compulsion. Would every man in Pilate's circumstances have felt\nhimself forced to surrender Jesus to the Jews? Would even a Gallio or a\nClaudius Lysias have done so? But Pilate's past history made him\npowerless. Had he not feared exposure, he would have marched his cohort\nacross the square and cleared it of the mob and defied the Sanhedrim. It\nwas not because he thought the Jewish law had any true right to demand\nChrist's death, but merely because the Jews threatened to report him as\nconniving at rebellion, that he yielded Christ to them; and to seek to\nlay the blame on those who made it difficult to do the right thing was\nboth unmanly and futile. The Jews were at least willing to take their\nshare of the blame, dreadful in its results as that proved to be.\n\nFairly to apportion blame where there are two consenting parties to a\nwickedness is for us, in many cases, impossible; and what we have to do\nis to beware of shifting blame from ourselves to our circumstances or to\nother people. However galling it is to find ourselves mixed up with\ntransactions which turn out to be shameful, or to discover that some\nvacillation or imbecility on our part has made us partakers in sin, it\nis idle and worse to wash our hands ostentatiously and try to persuade\nourselves we have no guilt in the matter. The fact that we have been\nbrought in contact with unjust, cruel, heartless, fraudulent,\nunscrupulous, worldly, passionate people may explain many of our sins,\nbut it does not excuse them. Other people in our circumstances would not\nhave done what we have done; they would have acted a stronger, manlier,\nmore generous part. And if we have sinned, it only adds to our guilt and\nencourages our weakness to profess innocence now and transfer to some\nother party the disgrace that belongs to ourselves. Nothing short of\nphysical compulsion can excuse wrong-doing.\n\nThe calmness and dignity with which Jesus passed through this ordeal,\nalone self-possessed, while all around Him were beside themselves, so\nimpressed Pilate that he not only felt guilty in giving Him up to the\nJews, but did not think it impossible that He might be the Son of God.\nBut what is perhaps even more striking in this scene is the directness\nwith which all these evil passions of men--fear, and self-interest, and\ninjustice, and hate--are guided to an end fraught with blessing.\nGoodness finds in the most adverse circumstances material for its\npurposes. We are apt in such circumstances to despair and act as if\nthere were never to be a triumph of goodness; but the little seed of\ngood that one individual can contribute even by hopeful and patient\nsubmission is that which survives and produces good in perpetuity, while\nthe passion and the hate and the worldliness cease. In so wild a scene\nwhat availed it, we might have said, that one Person kept His\nsteadfastness and rose superior to the surrounding wickedness? But the\nevent showed that it did avail. All the rest was scaffolding that fell\naway out of sight, and this solitary integrity remains as the enduring\nmonument. In our measure we must pass through similar ordeals, times\nwhen it seems vain to contend, useless to hope. When all we have done\nseems to be lost, when our way is hid and no further step is visible,\nwhen all the waves and billows of an ungodly world seem to threaten with\nextinction the little good we have cherished, then must we remember this\ncalm, majestic Prisoner, bound in the midst of a frantic and\nblood-thirsty mob, yet superior to it because He was living in God.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[24] See note to chapter xviii.\n\n[25] The cry according to the best reading was simply \"Crucify,\ncrucify,\" or as it might be rendered, \"The cross, the cross.\"\n\n[26] Philo, _Ad Caium_, c. 38.\n\n[27] Mark xv. 12.\n\n\n\n\nXX.\n\n_MARY AT THE CROSS._\n\n\n    \"They took Jesus therefore: and He went out, bearing the cross for\n    Himself, unto the place called The place of a skull, which is called\n    in Hebrew Golgotha: where they crucified Him, and with Him two\n    others, on either side one, and Jesus in the midst. And Pilate wrote\n    a title also, and put it on the cross. And there was written, JESUS\n    OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. This title therefore read many of\n    the Jews: for the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to the\n    city: and it was written in Hebrew, and in Latin, and in Greek. The\n    chief priests of the Jews therefore said to Pilate, Write not, The\n    King of the Jews; but, that He said, I am King of the Jews. Pilate\n    answered, What I have written I have written. The soldiers\n    therefore, when they had crucified Jesus, took His garments, and\n    made four parts, to every soldier a part; and also the coat: now the\n    coat was without seam, woven from the top throughout. They said\n    therefore one to another, Let us not rend it, but cast lots for it,\n    whose it shall be; that the scripture might be fulfilled, which\n    saith, They parted My garments among them, And upon My vesture did\n    they cast lots. These things therefore the soldiers did. But there\n    were standing by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother's\n    sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus\n    therefore saw His mother, and the disciple standing by, whom He\n    loved, He saith unto His mother, Woman, behold thy son! Then saith\n    He to the disciple, Behold, thy mother! And from that hour the\n    disciple took her unto his own home.\"--JOHN xix. 17-27.\n\n\nIf we ask on what charge our Lord was condemned to die, the answer must\nbe complex, not simple. Pilate indeed, in accordance with the usual\ncustom, painted on a board the name and crime of the Prisoner, that all\nwho could understand any of the three current languages might know who\nthis was and why He was crucified. But in the case of Jesus the\ninscription was merely a ghastly jest on Pilate's part. It was the\ncoarse retaliation of a proud man who found himself helpless in the\nhands of people he despised and hated. There was some relish to him in\nthe crucifixion of Jesus when by his inscription he had turned it into\nan insult to the nation. A gleam of savage satisfaction for a moment lit\nup his gloomy face when he found that his taunt had told, and the chief\npriests came begging him to change what he had written.\n\nPilate from the first look he got of his Prisoner understood that he had\nbefore him quite another kind of person than the ordinary zealot, or\nspurious Messiah, or turbulent Galilean. Pilate knew enough of the Jews\nto feel sure that if Jesus had been plotting rebellion against Rome He\nwould not have been informed against by the chief priests. Possibly he\nknew enough of what had been going on in his province to understand\nthat it was precisely because Jesus would _not_ allow Himself to be made\na king in opposition to Rome that the Jews detested and accused Him.\nPossibly he saw enough of the relations of Jesus to the authorities to\ndespise the abandoned malignity and baseness which could bring an\ninnocent man to his bar and charge Him with what in their eyes was no\ncrime at all and make the charge precisely because He was innocent of\nit.\n\nNominally, but only nominally, Jesus was crucified for sedition. If we\npass, in search of the real charge, from Pilate's judgment-seat to the\nSanhedrim, we get nearer to the truth. The charge on which He was in\nthis court condemned was the charge of blasphemy. He was indeed examined\nas to His claims to be the Messiah, but it does not appear that they had\nany law on which He could have been condemned for such claims. They did\nnot expect that the Messiah would be Divine in the proper sense. Had\nthey done so, then any one falsely claiming to be the Messiah would\nthereby have falsely claimed to be Divine, and would therefore have been\nguilty of blasphemy. But it was not for claiming to be the Christ that\nJesus was condemned; it was when He declared Himself to be the Son of\nGod that the high priest rent His garments and declared Him guilty of\nblasphemy.\n\nNow, of course it was very possible that many members of the Sanhedrim\nshould sincerely believe that blasphemy had been uttered. The unity of\nGod was the distinctive creed of the Jew, that which had made his\nnation, and for any human lips to claim equality with the one infinite\nGod was not to be thought of. It must have fallen upon their ears like a\nthunder-clap; they must have fallen back on their seats or started from\nthem in horror when so awful a claim was made by the human figure\nstanding bound before them. There were men among them who would have\nadvocated His claim to be the Messiah, who believed Him to be a man sent\nfrom God; but not a voice could be raised in His defence when the claim\nto be Son of God in a Divine sense passed His lips. His best friends\nmust have doubted and been disappointed, must have supposed He was\nconfused by the events of the night, and could only await the issue in\nsorrow and wonder.\n\nWas the Sanhedrim, then, to blame for condemning Jesus? They sincerely\nbelieved Him to be a blasphemer, and their law attached to the crime of\nblasphemy the punishment of death. It was in ignorance they did it; and\nknowing only what they knew, they could not have acted otherwise. Yes,\nthat is true. But they were responsible for their ignorance. Jesus had\ngiven abundant opportunity to the nation to understand Him and to\nconsider His claims. He did not burst upon the public with an\nuncertified demand to be accepted as Divine. He lived among those who\nwere instructed in such matters; and though in some respects He was very\ndifferent from the Messiah they had looked for, a little openness of\nmind and a little careful inquiry would have convinced them He was sent\nfrom God. And had they acknowledged this, had they allowed themselves to\nobey their instincts and say, This is a true man, a man who has a\nmessage for us--had they not sophisticated their minds with quibbling\nliteralities, they would have owned His superiority and been willing to\nlearn from Him. And had they shown any disposition to learn, Jesus was\ntoo wise a teacher to hurry them and overleap needed steps in conviction\nand experience. He would have been slow to extort from any a confession\nof His divinity until they had reached the belief of it by the working\nof their own minds. Enough for Him that they were willing to see the\ntruth about Him and to declare it as they saw it. The great charge He\nbrought against His accusers was that they did violence to their own\nconvictions. The uneasy suspicions they had about His dignity they\nsuppressed; the attraction they at times felt to His goodness they\nresisted; the duty to inquire patiently into His claims they refused.\nAnd thus their darkness deepened, until in their culpable ignorance they\ncommitted the greatest of crimes.\n\nFrom all this, then, two things are apparent. First, that Jesus was\ncondemned on the charge of blasphemy--condemned because He made Himself\nequal with God. His own words, pronounced upon oath, administered in the\nmost solemn manner, were understood by the Sanhedrim to be an explicit\nclaim to be the Son of God in a sense in which no man could without\nblasphemy claim to be so. He made no explanation of His words when He\nsaw how they were understood. And yet, were He not truly Divine, there\nwas no one who could have been more shocked than Himself by such a\nclaim. He understood, if any man did, the majesty of God; He knew better\nthan any other the difference between the Holy One and His sinful\ncreatures; His whole life was devoted to the purpose of revealing to men\nthe unseen God. What could have seemed to Him more monstrous, what could\nmore effectually have stultified the work and aim of His life, than that\nHe, being a man, should allow Himself to be taken for God? When Pilate\ntold Him that He was charged with claiming to be a king, He explained to\nPilate in what sense He did so, and removed from Pilate's mind the\nerroneous supposition this claim had given birth to. Had the Sanhedrim\ncherished an erroneous idea of what was involved in His claim to be the\nSon of God, He must also have explained to them in what sense He made\nit, and have removed from their minds the impression that He was\nclaiming to be properly Divine. He did not make any explanation; He\nallowed them to suppose He claimed to be the Son of God in a sense which\nwould be blasphemous in a mere man. So that if any one gathers from this\nthat Jesus was Divine in a sense in which it were blasphemy for any\nother man to claim to be, he gathers a legitimate, even a necessary,\ninference.\n\nAnother reflection which is forced upon the reader of this narrative is,\nthat disaster waits upon stifled inquiry. The Jews honestly convicted\nChrist as a blasphemer because they had dishonestly denied Him to be a\ngood man. The little spark which would have grown into a blazing light\nthey put their heel upon. Had they at the first candidly considered Him\nas He went about doing good and making no claims, they would have become\nattached to Him as His disciples did, and, like them, would have been\nled on to a fuller knowledge of the meaning of His person and work. It\nis these beginnings of conviction we are so apt to abuse. It seems so\nmuch smaller a crime to kill an infant that has but once drawn breath\nthan to kill a man of lusty life and busy in his prime; but the one, if\nfairly dealt with, will grow to be the other. And while we think very\nlittle of stifling the scarcely breathed whisperings in our own heart\nand mind, we should consider that it is only such whisperings that can\nbring us to the loudly proclaimed truth. If we do not follow up\nsuggestions, if we do not push inquiry to discovery, if we do not value\nthe smallest grain of truth as a seed of unknown worth and count it\nwicked to kill even the smallest truth in our souls, we can scarcely\nhope at any time to stand in the full light of reality and rejoice in\nit. To accept Christ as Divine may be at present beyond us; to\nacknowledge Him as such would simply be to perjure ourselves; but can we\nnot acknowledge Him to be a true man, a good man, a teacher certainly\nsent from God? If we do know Him to be all that and more, then have we\nthought this out to its results? Knowing Him to be a unique figure among\nmen, have we perceived what this involves? Admitting Him to be the best\nof men, do we love Him, imitate Him, ponder His words, long for His\ncompany? Let us not treat Him as if He were non-existent because He is\nnot as yet to us all that He is to some. Let us beware of dismissing\n_all_ conviction about Him because there are some convictions spoken of\nby other people which we do not feel. It is better to deny Christ than\nto deny our own convictions; for to do so is to extinguish the only\nlight we have, and to expose ourselves to all disaster. The man who has\nput out his own eyes cannot plead blindness in extenuation of his not\nseeing the lights and running the richly laden ship on the rocks.\n\nGuided by the perfect taste which reverence gives, John says very little\nabout the actual crucifixion. He shows us indeed the soldiers sitting\ndown beside the little heap of clothes they had stripped off our Lord,\nparcelling them out, perhaps already assuming them as their own wear.\nFor the clothes by which our Lord had been known these soldiers would\nnow carry into unknown haunts of drunkenness and sin, emblems of our\nruthless, thoughtless desecration of our Lord's name with which we\noutwardly clothe ourselves and yet carry into scenes the most\nuncongenial. John, writing long after the event, seems to have no heart\nto record the poor taunts with which the crowd sought to increase the\nsuffering of the Crucified, and force home upon His spirit a sense of\nthe desolation and ignominy of the cross. Gradually the crowd wearies\nand scatters, and only here and there a little whispering group remains.\nThe day waxes to its greatest heat; the soldiers lie or stand silent;\nthe centurion sits motionless on his motionless, statue-like horse; the\nstillness of death falls upon the scene, only broken at intervals by a\ngroan from one or other of the crosses. Suddenly through this silence\nthere sound the words, \"Woman, behold thy son: son, behold thy\nmother.\"--words which remind us that all this dreadful scene which makes\nthe heart of the stranger bleed has been witnessed by the mother of the\nCrucified. As the crowd had broken up from around the crosses, the\nlittle group of women whom John had brought to the spot edged their way\nnearer and nearer till they were quite close to Him they loved, though\ntheir lips apparently were sealed by their helplessness to minister\nconsolation.\n\nThese hours of suffering, as the sword was slowly driven through Mary's\nsoul, according to Simeon's word, who shall measure? Hers was not a\nhysterical, noisy sorrow, but quiet and silent. There was nothing wild,\nnothing extravagant, in it. There was no sign of feminine weakness, no\noutcry, no fainting, no wild gesture of uncontrollable anguish, nothing\nto show that she was the exceptional mourner and that there was no\nsorrow like unto her sorrow. Her reverence for the Lord saved her from\ndisturbing His last moments. She stood and saw the end. She saw His head\nlifted in anguish and falling on His breast in weakness, and she could\nnot gently take it in her hands and wipe the sweat of death from His\nbrow. She saw His pierced hands and feet become numbed and livid, and\nmight not chafe them. She saw Him gasp with pain as cramp seized part\nafter part of His outstretched body, and she could not change His\nposture nor give liberty to so much as one of His hands. And she had to\nsuffer this in profound desolation of spirit. Her life seemed to be\nburied at the cross. To the mourning there often seems nothing left but\nto die with the dying. One heart has been the light of life, and now\nthat light is quenched. What significance, what motive, can life have\nany more?[28] We valued no past where that heart was not; we had no\nfuture which was not concentrated upon it or in which it had no part.\nBut the absorption of common love must have been far surpassed in Mary's\ncase. None had been blessed with such a love as hers. And now none\nestimated as she did the spotless innocence of the Victim; none could\nknow as she knew the depth of His goodness, the unfathomable and\nunconquerable love He had for all; and none could estimate as she the\ningratitude of those whom He had healed and fed and taught and comforted\nwith such unselfish devotedness. She knew that there was none like Him,\nand that if any could have brought blessing to this earth it was He, and\nthere she saw Him nailed to the cross, the end actually reached. We know\nnot if in that hour she thought of the trial of Abraham; we know not\nwhether she allowed herself to think at all, whether she did not merely\nsuffer as a mother losing her son; but certainly it must have been with\nintensest eagerness she heard herself once more addressed by Him.\n\nMary was commended to John as the closest friend of Jesus. These two\nwould be in fullest sympathy, both being devoted to Him. It was perhaps\nan indication to those who were present, and through them to all, that\nnothing is so true a bond between human hearts as sympathy with Christ.\nWe may admire nature, and yet have many points of antipathy to those who\nalso admire nature. We may like the sea, and yet feel no drawing to some\npersons who also like the sea. We may be fond of mathematics, and yet\nfind that this brings us into a very partial and limited sympathy with\nmathematicians. Nay, we may even admire and love the same person as\nothers do, and yet disagree about other matters. But if Christ is chosen\nand loved as He ought to be, that love is a determining affection which\nrules all else within us, and brings us into abiding sympathy with all\nwho are similarly governed and moulded by that love. That love indicates\na certain past experience and guarantees a special type of character. It\nis the characteristic of the subjects of the kingdom of God.\n\nThis care for His mother in His last moments is of a piece with all the\nconduct of Jesus. Throughout His life there is an entire absence of\nanything pompous or excited. Everything is simple. The greatest acts in\nhuman history He does on the highway, in the cottage, among a group of\nbeggars in an entry. The words which have thrilled the hearts and mended\nthe lives of myriads were spoken casually as He walked with a few\nfriends. Rarely did He even gather a crowd. There was no advertising, no\nadmission by ticket, no elaborate arrangements for a set speech at a set\nhour. Those who know human nature will know what to think of this\nunstudied ease and simplicity, and will appreciate it. The same\ncharacteristic appears here. He speaks as if He were not an object of\ncontemplation; there is an entire absence of self-consciousness, of\nostentatious suggestion that He is now making atonement for the sins of\nthe world. He speaks to His mother and cares for her as He might have\ndone had they been in the home at Nazareth together. One despairs of\never learning such a lesson, or indeed of seeing others learn it. How\nlike an ant-hill is the world of men! What a fever and excitement! what\na fuss and fret! what an ado! what a sending of messengers, and calling\nof meetings, and raising of troops, and magnifying of little things!\nwhat an absence of calmness and simplicity! But this at least we _may_\nlearn--that no duties, however important, can excuse us for not caring\nfor our relatives. They are deceived people who spend all their charity\nand sweetness out of doors, who have a reputation for godliness, and are\nto be seen in the forefront of this or that Christian work, but who are\nsullen or imperious or quick-tempered or indifferent at home. If while\nsaving a world Jesus had leisure to care for His mother, there are no\nduties so important as to prevent a man from being considerate and\ndutiful at home.\n\nThose who witnessed the hurried events of the morning when Christ was\ncrucified might be pardoned if their minds were filled with what their\neyes saw, and if little but the outward objects were discernible to\nthem. We are in different circumstances, and may be expected to look\nmore deeply into what was happening. To see only the mean scheming and\nwicked passions of men, to see nothing but the pathetic suffering of an\ninnocent and misjudged person, to take our interpretation of these rapid\nand disorderly events from the casual spectators without striving to\ndiscover God's meaning in them, would indeed be a flagrant instance of\nwhat has been called \"reading God in a prose translation,\" rendering His\nclearest and most touching utterance to this world in the language of\ncallous Jews or barbarous Roman soldiers. Let us open our ear to God's\nown meaning in these events, and we hear Him uttering to us all His\nDivine love, and in the most forcible and touching tones. These are the\nevents in which His deepest purposes and tenderest love find utterance.\nHow He is striving to win His way to us to convince us of the reality of\nsin and of salvation! To be mere spectators of these things is to\nconvict ourselves of being superficial or strangely callous. Scarcely\nany criminal is executed but we all have our opinion on the justice or\ninjustice of his condemnation. We may well be expected to form our\njudgment in _this_ case, and to take action upon it. If Jesus was\nunjustly condemned, then we as well as His contemporaries have to do\nwith His claims. If these claims were true, we have something more to do\nthan merely to say so.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[28] See Faber's _Bethlehem_.\n\n\n\n\nXXI.\n\n_THE CRUCIFIXION._\n\n\n    \"The soldiers therefore, when they had crucified Jesus, took His\n    garments, and made four parts, to every soldier a part; and also the\n    coat: now the coat was without seam, woven from the top throughout.\n    They said therefore one to another, Let us not rend it, but cast\n    lots for it, whose it shall be: that the scripture might be\n    fulfilled, which saith, They parted My garments among them, And upon\n    My vesture did they cast lots. These things therefore the soldiers\n    did.... After this Jesus, knowing that all things are now finished,\n    that the scripture might be accomplished, saith, I thirst. There was\n    set there a vessel full of vinegar: so they put a sponge full of the\n    vinegar upon hyssop, and brought it to His mouth. When Jesus\n    therefore had received the vinegar, He said, It is finished: and He\n    bowed His head, and gave up His spirit. The Jews therefore, because\n    it was the Preparation, that the bodies should not remain on the\n    cross upon the Sabbath (for the day of that Sabbath was a high day),\n    asked of Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might\n    be taken away. The soldiers therefore came, and brake the legs of\n    the first, and of the other which was crucified with Him: but when\n    they came to Jesus, and saw that He was dead already, they brake not\n    His legs: howbeit one of the soldiers with a spear pierced His side,\n    and straightway there came out blood and water. And he that hath\n    seen hath borne witness, and his witness is true: and he knoweth\n    that he saith true, that ye also may believe. For these things came\n    to pass, that the scripture might be fulfilled, A bone of Him shall\n    not be broken. And again another scripture saith, They shall look on\n    Him whom they pierced.\"--JOHN xix. 23, 24, 28-37.\n\n\nPossibly the account which John gives of the Crucifixion is somewhat\nspoiled to some readers by his frequent reference to apparently\ninsignificant coincidences with Old Testament prophecy. It is, however,\nto be remembered that John was himself a Jew, and was writing for a\npublic which laid great stress on such literal fulfilments of prophecy.\nThe wording of the narrative might lead us to suppose that John believed\nJesus to be intentionally fulfilling prophecy. Where he says, \"After\nthis, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the\nscripture might be fulfilled, saith, I thirst,\" it might be fancied that\nJohn supposed that Jesus said \"I thirst\" in order that Scripture might\nbe fulfilled. This is, of course, to misconceive the Evangelist's\nmeaning. Such a fulfilment would have been fictitious, not real. But\nJohn believes that in each smallest act and word of our Lord the will of\nGod was finding expression, a will which had long since been uttered in\nthe form of Old Testament prophecy. In these hours of dismay, when Jesus\nwas arrested, tried, and crucified before the eyes of His disciples,\nthey tried to believe that this was God's will; and long afterwards,\nwhen they had found time to think, and when they had to deal with men\nwho felt the difficulty of believing in a crucified Saviour, they\npointed to the fact that even in small particulars the sufferings of the\nMessiah had been anticipated and were to be expected.\n\nThe first instance of this which John cites is the manner in which the\nsoldiers dealt with His clothes. After fixing Jesus to the cross and\nraising it, the four men who were detailed to this service sat down to\nwatch. Such was the custom, lest friends should remove the crucified\nbefore death supervened. Having settled themselves for this watch, they\nproceeded to divide the clothes of Jesus among them. This also was\ncustomary among the Romans, as it has been everywhere usual that the\nexecutioners should have as their perquisite some of the articles worn\nby the condemned. The soldiers parted the garments of Jesus among them,\neach of the four taking what he needed or fancied--turban, shoes,\ngirdle, or under-coat; while for the large seamless plaid that was worn\nover all they cast lots, being unwilling to tear it. All this fulfilled\nan old prediction to the letter. The reason why it had been spoken of\nwas that it formed a weighty element in the suffering of the crucified.\nFew things can make a dying man feel more desolate than to overhear\nthose who sit round his bed already disposing of his effects, counting\nhim a dead man who can no longer use the apparatus of the living, and\ncongratulating themselves on the profit they make by his death. How\nfurious have old men sometimes been made by any betrayal of eagerness on\nthe part of their heirs! Even to calculate on a man's death and make\narrangements for filling his place is justly esteemed indecorous and\nunfeeling. To ask a sick man for anything he has been accustomed to use,\nand must use again if he recovers health, is an act which only an\nindelicate nature could be guilty of. It was a cruel addition, then, to\nour Lord's suffering to see these men heartlessly dividing among them\nall He had to leave. It forced on His mind the consciousness of their\nutter indifference to His feelings. His clothes were of some little\nvalue to them: He Himself of no value. Nothing could have made Him feel\nmore separated from the world of the living--from their hopes, their\nways, their life--as if already He were dead and buried.\n\nThis distribution of His clothes was also calculated to make Him\nintensely sensible of the reality and finality of death. Jesus knew He\nwas to rise again; but let us not forget that Jesus was human, liable to\nthe same natural fears, and moved by the same circumstances as\nourselves. He knew He was to rise again; but how much easier had it been\nto believe in that future life had all the world been expecting Him to\nrise! But here were men showing that they very well knew He would never\nagain need these clothes of His.\n\nA comparison of this narrative with the other Gospels brings out that\nthe words \"I thirst\" must have been uttered immediately after the\nfearful cry \"My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?\" For when the\nsoldier was mercifully pressing the sponge steeped in vinegar to His\nparched lips, some of the bystanders called out, \"Let be: let us see\nwhether Elias will come to save Him,\" referring to the words of Jesus,\nwhich they had not rightly understood. And this expression of bodily\nsuffering is proof that the severity of the spiritual struggle was over.\nSo long as that deep darkness covered His spirit He was unconscious of\nHis body; but with the agonised cry to His Father the darkness had\npassed away; the very uttering of His desolation had disburdened His\nspirit, and at once the body asserts itself. As in the wilderness at the\nopening of His career He had been for many days so agitated and absorbed\nin mind that He did not once think of food, but no sooner was the\nspiritual strife ended than the keen sensation of hunger was the first\nthing to demand His attention, so here His sense of thirst is the sign\nthat His spirit was now at rest.\n\nThe last act of the Crucifixion, in which John sees the fulfilment of\nOld Testament prophecy, is the omission in the case of Jesus of the\ncommon mode of terminating the life of the crucified by breaking the\nlegs with an iron bar. Jesus being already dead, this was considered\nunnecessary; but as possibly He might only have swooned, and as the\nbodies were immediately taken down, one of the soldiers makes sure of\nHis death by a lance thrust. Medical men and scholars have largely\ndiscussed the causes which might produce the outflow of blood and water\nwhich John affirms followed this spear thrust, and various causes have\nbeen assigned. But it is a point which has apparently only physiological\ninterest. John indeed follows up his statement of what he saw with an\nunusually strong asseveration that what he says is true. \"He that saw it\nbare record, and his record is true: and he knoweth that he saith true,\nthat ye might believe.\" But this strong asseveration is introduced, not\nfor the sake of persuading us to believe that water as well as blood\nflowed from the lance wound, but for the sake of certifying the actual\ndeath of Jesus. The soldiers who had charge of the execution discharged\ntheir duty. They made sure that the Crucified was actually dead. And\nJohn's reason for insisting on this and appending to his statement so\nunusual a confirmation is sufficiently obvious. He was about to relate\nthe Resurrection, and he knows that a true resurrection must be preceded\nby a real death. If he has no means of establishing the actual death, he\nhas no means of establishing the Resurrection. And therefore for the\nfirst and only time in his narrative he departs from simple narration,\nand most solemnly asseverates that he is speaking the truth and was an\neyewitness of the things he relates.\n\nThe emphatic language John uses regarding the certainty of Christ's\ndeath is, then, only an index to the importance he attached to the\nResurrection. He was aware that whatever virtue lay in the life and\ndeath of Christ, this virtue became available for men through the\nResurrection. Had Jesus not risen again all the hopes His friends had\ncherished regarding Him would have been buried in His tomb. Had He not\nrisen His words would have been falsified and doubt thrown upon all His\nteaching. Had He not risen His claims would have been unintelligible and\nHis whole appearance and life a mystery, suggesting a greatness not\nborne out--different from other men, yet subject to the same defeat. Had\nHe not risen the very significance of His life would have been obscured;\nand if for a time a few friends cherished His memory in private, His\nname would have fallen back to an obscure, possibly a dishonoured,\nplace.\n\nIt is not at once obvious what we are to make of the physical sufferings\nof Christ. Certainly it is very easy to make too much of them. For, in\nthe first place, they were very brief and confined to one part of His\nlife. He was exempt from the prolonged weakness and misery which many\npersons endure throughout life. Born, as we may reasonably suppose,\nwith a healthy and vigorous constitution, carefully reared by the best\nof mothers, finding a livelihood in His native village and in His\nfather's business, His lot was very different from the frightful doom of\nthousands who are born with diseased and distorted body, in squalid and\nwicked surroundings, and who never see through the misery that\nencompasses them to any happy or hopeful life. And even after He left\nthe shelter and modest comforts of the Nazareth home His life was spent\nin healthy conditions, and often in scenes of much beauty and interest.\nFree to move about through the country as He pleased, passing through\nvineyards and olive-groves and cornfields, talking pleasantly with His\nlittle company of attached friends or addressing large audiences, He\nlived an open-air life of a kind in which of necessity there must have\nbeen a great deal of physical pleasure and healthful enjoyment. At times\nHe had not where to lay His head; but this is mentioned rather as a\nsymptom of His want of friends than as implying any serious physical\nsuffering in a climate like that of Palestine. And the suffering at the\nclose of His life, though extreme, was brief, and was not to be compared\nin its cruelty to what many of His followers have endured for His sake.\n\nTwo things, however, the physical sufferings of Christ do secure: they\ncall attention to His devotedness, and they illustrate His willing\nsacrifice of self. They call attention to His devotedness and provoke a\nnatural sympathy and tenderness of spirit in the beholder, qualities\nwhich are much needed in our consideration of Christ. Had He passed\nthrough life entirely exempt from suffering, in high position, with\nevery want eagerly ministered to, untouched by any woe, and at last\npassing away by a painless decease, we should find it much harder to\nrespond to His appeal or even to understand His work. Nothing so quickly\nrivets our attention and stirs our sympathy as physical pain. We feel\ndisposed to listen to the demands of one who is suffering, and if we\nhave a lurking suspicion that we are somehow responsible for that\nsuffering and are benefited by it, then we are softened by a mingled\npity, admiration, and shame, which is one of the fittest attitudes a\nhuman spirit can assume.\n\nBesides, it is through the visible suffering we can read the willingness\nof Christ's self-surrender. It was always more difficult for Him to\nsuffer than for us. We have no option: He might have rescued Himself at\nany moment. We, in suffering, have but to subdue our disposition to\nmurmur and our sense of pain: He had to subdue what was much more\nobstinate--His consciousness that He might if He pleased abjure the life\nthat involved pain. The strain upon His love for us was not once for all\nover when He became man. He Himself intimates, and His power of working\nmiracles proves, that at each point of His career He might have saved\nHimself from suffering, but would not.\n\nWhen we ask ourselves what we are to make of these sufferings of Christ,\nwe naturally seek aid from the Evangelist and ask what he made of them.\nBut on reading his narrative we are surprised to find so little comment\nor reflection interrupting the simple relation of facts. At first sight\nthe narrative seems to flow uninterruptedly on, and to resemble the\nstory which might be told of the closing scenes of an ordinary life\nterminating tragically. The references to Old Testament prophecy alone\ngive us the clue to John's thoughts about the significance of this\ndeath. These references show us that he considered that in this public\nexecution, conducted wholly by Roman soldiers, who could not read a word\nof Hebrew and did not know the name of the God of the Jews, there was\nbeing fulfilled the purpose of God towards which all previous history\nhad been tending. That purpose of God in the history of man was\naccomplished when Jesus breathed His last upon the cross. The cry \"It is\nfinished\" was not the mere gasp of a worn-out life; it was not the cry\nof satisfaction with which a career of pain and sorrow is terminated: it\nwas the deliberate utterance of a clear consciousness on the part of\nGod's appointed Revealer that now all had been done that could be done\nto make God known to men and to identify Him with men. God's purpose had\never been one and indivisible. Declared to men in various ways, a hint\nhere, a broad light there, now by a gleam of insight in the mind of a\nprophet, now by a deed of heroism in king or leader, through rude\nsymbolic contrivances and through the tenderest of human affections and\nthe highest human thoughts God had been making men ever more and more\nsensible that His one purpose was to come closer and closer into\nfellowship with them and to draw them into a perfect harmony with Him.\nForgiveness and deliverance from sin were provided for them, knowledge\nof God's law and will that they might learn to know and to serve\nHim--all these were secured when Jesus cried, \"It is finished.\"\n\nWhy, then, does John just at this point of the life of Jesus see so many\nevidences of the fulfilment of all prophecy? Need we ask? Is not\nsuffering that which is the standing problem of life? Is it not grief\nand trouble and sorrow which press home upon our minds most convincingly\nthe reality of sin? Is it not death which is common to all men of every\nage, race, station, or experience? And must not One who identifies\nHimself with men identify Himself in this if in anything? It is the\ncross of Jesus that stands before the mind of John as the completion of\nthat process of incarnation, of entrance into human experience, which\nfills his Gospel; it is here he sees the completion and finishing of\nthat identification of God with man he has been exhibiting throughout.\nThe union of God with man is perfected when God submits Himself to the\nlast darkest experience of man. To some it seems impossible such a thing\nshould be; it seems either unreal, unthought-out verbiage, or blasphemy.\nTo John, after he had seen and pondered the words and the life of Jesus,\nall his ideas of the Father were altered. He learned that God is love,\nand that to infinite love, while there remains one thing to give, one\nstep of nearness to the loved to be taken, love has not its perfect\nexpression. It came upon him as a revelation that God was really in the\nworld. Are we to refuse to God any true participation in the strife\nbetween good and evil? Is God to be kept out of all reality? Is He\nmerely to look on, to see how His creatures will manage, how this and\nthat man will bear himself heroically, but Himself a mere name, a lay\nfigure crowned but otiose, doing nothing to merit His crown, doing\nnothing to warrant the worship of untold worlds, commanding others to\nperil themselves and put all to the proof, but Himself well out of range\nof all risk, of all conflict, of all tragedy? How can we hope to love a\nGod we remove to a throne remote and exalted, from which He looks down\non human life, and cannot look on it as we do from the inside! Is God to\nbe only a dramatist, who arranges thrilling situations for others to\npass through, and assigns to each the part he is to play, but Himself\nhas no real interests at stake and no actual entrance into the world of\nfeeling, of hope, of trial?\n\nAnd if a Divine Person were in the course of things to come into this\nhuman world, to enter into our actual experiences, and feel and bear the\nactual strain that we bear, it is obvious He must come incognito--not\ndistinguished by such marks as would bring the world to His feet, and\nmake an ordinary human life and ordinary human trials impossible to Him.\nWhen sovereigns wish to ascertain for themselves how their subjects\nlive, they do not proclaim their approach and send in advance an army of\nprotection, provision, and display; they do not demand to be met by the\nauthorities of each town, and to be received by artificial, stereotyped\naddresses, and to be led from one striking sight to another and from one\ncomfortable palace to another: but they leave their robes of state\nbehind them, they send no messenger in advance, and they mix as one of\nthe crowd with the crowd, exposed to whatever abuse may be going, and\nliving for the time on the same terms as the rank and file. This has\nbeen done often in sport, sometimes as matter of policy or of interest,\nbut never as the serious method of understanding and lifting the general\nhabits and life of the people. Christ came among us, not as a kind of\nDivine adventure to break the tedium of eternal glory, nor merely to\nmake personal observations on His own account, but as the requisite and\nonly means available for bringing the fulness of Divine help into\npractical contact with mankind. But as all filth and squalor are hidden\naway in the slums from the senses of the king, so that if he is to\npenetrate into the burrows of the criminal classes and see the\nwretchedness of the poor, he must do it incognito, so if Christ sought\nto bring Divine mercy and might within reach of the vilest, He must\nvisit their haunts and make Himself acquainted with their habits.\n\nIt is also obvious that such a Person would concern Himself not with art\nor literature, not with inventions and discoveries, not even with\npolitics and government and social problems, but with that which\nunderlies all these and for which all these exist--with human character\nand human conduct, with man's relation to God. It is with the very root\nof human life He concerns Himself.\n\nThe sufferings of Christ, then, were mainly inward, and were the\nnecessary result of His perfect sympathy with men. That which has made\nthe cross the most significant of earthly symbols, and which has\ninvested it with so wonderful a power to subdue and purify the heart, is\nnot the fact that it involved the keenest physical pain, but that it\nexhibits Christ's perfect and complete identification with sinful men.\nIt is this that humbles us and brings us to a right mind towards God and\ntowards sin, that here we see the innocent Son of God involved in\nsuffering and undergoing a shameful death through our sin. It was His\nsympathy with men which brought Him into this world, and it was the same\nsympathy which laid Him open to suffering throughout His life. The\nmother suffers more in the illness of a child than in her own; the shame\nof wrong-doing is often more keenly felt by a parent or friend than by\nthe perpetrator himself. If Paul's enthusiasm and devoted life for men\nmade him truly say, \"Who is weak, and I am not weak?\" who shall measure\nthe burden Christ bore from day to day in the midst of a sinning and\nsuffering world? With a burning zeal for God, He was plunged into an\narctic region where thick-ribbed ice of indifference met His warmth;\nconsumed with devotion to God's purposes, He saw everywhere around Him\nignorance, carelessness, self-seeking, total misunderstanding of what\nthe world is for; linked to men with a love which irrepressibly urged\nHim to seek the highest good for all, He was on all hands thwarted;\ndying to see men holy and pure and godly, He everywhere found them weak,\nsinful, gross. It was this which made Him a man of sorrows and\nacquainted with grief--loving God and man with a love which was the\nchief element in His being, He could not get man reconciled to God. The\nmere sorrows of men doubtless affected Him more than they affect the\nmost tender-hearted of men; but these sorrows--poverty, failure,\nsickness--would pass away and would even work for good, and so might\nwell be borne. But when He saw men disregarding that which would save\nthem from lasting sorrow; when He saw them giving themselves to\ntrivialities with all their might, and doing nothing to recover their\nright relation to God, the spring of all good; when He saw them day by\nday defeating the purpose He lived to accomplish, and undoing the one\nonly work He thought worth doing,--who can measure the burden of shame\nand grief He had to bear?\n\nBut it is not the suffering that does us good and brings us to God, but\nthe love which underlies the suffering. The suffering convinces us that\nit is love which prompts Christ in all His life and death,--a love we\nmay confidently trust to, since it is staggered at no difficulty or\nsacrifice; a love which aims at lifting and helping us; a love that\nembraces us, not seeking to accomplish only one thing for us, but\nnecessarily, because it is love for us, seeking our good in all things.\nThe power of earthly love, of the devotedness of mother, wife, or\nfriend, we know;--we know what length such love will go: shall we then\ndeny to God the happiness of sacrifice, the joy of love? Let it not\nenter our thoughts that He who is more closely related to us than any,\nand who will far less disclaim this relationship than any, does not love\nus in practical ways, and cannot fit us by His loving care for all that\nHis holiness requires.\n\n\n\n\nXXII.\n\n_THE RESURRECTION._\n\n\n    \"Now on the first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, while\n    it was yet dark, unto the tomb, and seeth the stone taken away from\n    the tomb. She runneth therefore, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to\n    the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, They have\n    taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we know not where they have\n    laid Him. Peter therefore went forth, and the other disciple, and\n    they went toward the tomb. And they ran both together: and the other\n    disciple outran Peter, and came first to the tomb; and stooping and\n    looking in, he seeth the linen cloths lying; yet entered he not in.\n    Simon Peter therefore also cometh, following him, and entered into\n    the tomb; and he beholdeth the linen cloths lying, and the napkin,\n    that was upon His head, not lying with the linen cloths, but rolled\n    up in a place by itself. Then entered in therefore the other\n    disciple also, which came first to the tomb, and he saw, and\n    believed. For as yet they knew not the scripture, that He must rise\n    again from the dead. So the disciples went away again unto their own\n    home. But Mary was standing without at the tomb weeping: so, as she\n    wept, she stooped and looked into the tomb; and she beholdeth two\n    angels in white sitting, one at the head, and one at the feet, where\n    the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, Woman, why\n    weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my\n    Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him. When she had thus\n    said, she turned herself back, and beholdeth Jesus standing, and\n    knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest\n    thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing Him to be the gardener,\n    saith unto Him, Sir, if thou hast borne Him hence, tell me where\n    thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away, Jesus saith unto her,\n    Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto Him in Hebrew, Rabboni;\n    which is to say, Master. Jesus saith to her, Touch Me not; for I am\n    not yet ascended unto the Father: but go unto My brethren, and say\n    to them, I ascend unto My Father and your Father, and My God and\n    your God. Mary Magdalene cometh and telleth the disciples, I have\n    seen the Lord; and how that He had said these things unto\n    her.\"--JOHN xx. 1-18.\n\n\nJohn gives no narrative of the Resurrection itself. He gives us what is\nmuch more valuable--a brief account of the manner in which he himself\nwas convinced that a resurrection had taken place. His shy nature, his\nmodest reluctance to put himself forward or use the first person in his\nnarrative, does not prevent him from seeing that the testimony of one\nwho, like himself, was an eyewitness of the facts is invaluable; and\nnothing but additional interest and reality is added to his testimony by\nthe varied periphrases with which he veils his identity, as \"the\ndisciple whom Jesus loved,\" \"that other disciple,\" and so forth.\n\nWhen Mary brought the startling intelligence that the tomb was empty,\nPeter and John instantly made for the spot at the top of their speed.\nThe older man was left behind by John, but natural reverence kept him\nfrom entering the rocky chamber. He looked in, however, and to his\nsurprise saw enough to convince him that the body had not been removed\nfor interment elsewhere or to be cast out with the bodies of criminals.\nFor there were the linen cloths in which He had been wrapped, carefully\ntaken off and left behind. The impression made by this circumstance was\nconfirmed when Peter came up, and they both entered and examined the\ntomb and made their inferences together. For then they saw still clearer\nevidence of deliberation; the napkin which had been tied round the head\nof the dead body was there in the tomb, and it was folded and laid in a\nplace by itself, suggesting the leisurely manner of a person changing\nhis clothes, and convincing them that the body had not been removed to\nbe laid elsewhere. At once John was convinced that a resurrection had\ntaken place; his Lord's words took a new meaning in this empty tomb.\nStanding and gazing at the folded cloths, the truth flashed into his\nmind: Jesus has Himself risen and disencumbered Himself from these\nwrappings, and has departed. It was enough for John: he visited no other\ntomb; he questioned no one; he made no inquiries of his friends in the\nhigh priest's household,--he went to his own house, filled with\nastonishment, with a thousand thoughts chasing one another through his\nmind, scarcely listening to Peter's voluble tongue, but convinced that\nJesus lived.\n\nThis simple narrative will be to many minds more convincing than an\naccumulation of elaborate arguments. The style is that of an eyewitness.\nEach movement and every particular is before his eye: Mary bursting,\nbreathless, and gasping out the startling news; the hasty springing up\nof the two men, and their rapid racing along the streets and out through\nthe city gates to the garden; John standing panting at the rock-hewn\nsepulchre, his stooping down and peering into the dark chamber; Peter\ntoiling up behind, but not hesitating a moment, and entering and gazing\nat this and that till the dumb articles tell their story; and the two\nmen leave the sepulchre together, awed and convinced. And the eyewitness\nwho thus graphically relates what he knew of that great morning adds\nwith the simplicity of a truthful nature, \"he saw and\nbelieved\"--believed then for the first time; for as yet they had not\nseen the significance of certain scriptures which now seemed plainly\nenough to point to this.\n\nTo some minds this simple narrative will, I say, carry home the\nconviction of the truth of the Resurrection more than any elaborate\nargumentation. There is an assuring matter-of-factness about it.\nSceptics tell us that visions are common, and that excited people are\neasily deceived. But we have no word of visions here. John does not say\nhe saw the Lord: he tells us merely of two fishermen running; of solid,\ncommonplace articles such as grave-clothes; and of observations that\ncould not possibly be mistaken, such as that the tomb was empty and that\nthey two were in it. For my part I feel constrained to believe a\nnarrative like this, when it tells me the grave was empty. No doubt\ntheir conclusion, that Jesus had Himself emptied the tomb, was not a\ncertain but only a probable inference, and, had nothing more occurred,\neven John himself might not have continued so confident; but it is\nimportant to notice how John was convinced, not at all by visions or\nvoices or embodied expectations of his own, but in the most\nmatter-of-fact way and by the very same kind of observation that we use\nand rely upon in common life. And, moreover, more did occur; there\nfollowed just such results as were in keeping with so momentous an\nevent.\n\nOne of these immediately occurred. Mary, exhausted with her rapid\ncarrying of the news to Peter and John, was not able to keep pace with\nthem as they ran to the tomb, and before she arrived they were gone.\nProbably she missed them in the streets as she came out of the city; at\nany rate, finding the tomb still empty and none present to explain the\nreason of it, she stands there desolate and pours out her distress in\ntears. That grave being empty, the whole earth is empty to her: the dead\nChrist was more to her than a living world. She could not go as Peter\nand John had gone, for she had no thought of resurrection. The rigid\nform, the unanswering lips and eye, the body passive in the hands of\nothers, had fixed on her heart, as it commonly does, the one impression\nof death. She felt that all was over, and now she had not even the poor\nconsolation of paying some slight additional attention. She can but\nstand and lay her head upon the stone and let her tears flow from a\nbroken heart. And yet again in the midst of her grief she cannot believe\nit true that He is lost to her; she returns, as love will do, to the\nsearch, suspects her own eyesight, seeks again where she had sought\nbefore, and cannot reconcile herself to a loss so total and\noverwhelming. So absorbing is her grief that the vision of angels does\nnot astonish her; her heart, filled with grief, has no room for wonder.\nTheir kindly words cannot comfort her; it is another voice she longs\nfor. She had but the one thought, \"They have taken away my Lord,\"--_my_\nLord, as if none felt the bereavement as she. She supposes, too, that\nall must know about the loss and understand what she is seeking, so that\nwhen she sees the gardener she says, \"Sir, if thou hast borne _Him_\nhence.\" What need to say who? Can any one be thinking of any other but\nof Him who engrosses her thought?\n\nIn all this we have the picture of a real and profound grief, and\ntherefore of a real and profound love. We see in Mary the kind of\naffection which a knowledge of Jesus was fitted to kindle. And to Mary\nour Lord remembered His promise: \"He that loveth Me shall be loved of\nMy Father, and I will love him and will manifest Myself to him.\" None is\nso unable as He to leave any who love Him without any response to their\nexpressions of affection. He could not coldly look on while this woman\nwas eagerly seeking Him; and it is as impossible that He should hide\nHimself now from any who seek Him with as true a heart. Sometimes it\nwould seem as if real thirst for God were not at once allayed, as if\nmany were allowed to spend the best part of their days in seeking; but\nthis does not invalidate the promise, \"He that seeketh, findeth.\" For as\nChrist is again and again removed from the view of men, and as He is\nallowed to become a remote and shadowy figure, He can be restored to a\nliving and visible influence in the world only by this man and that man\nbecoming sensible of the great loss we sustain by His absence, and\nworking his own way to a clear apprehension of His continued life. No\nexperience which an honest man has in his search for the truth is\nworthless; it is the solid foundation of his own permanent belief and\nconnection with the truth, and it is useful to other men.\n\nMary standing without at the sepulchre weeping is a concrete\nrepresentation of a not uncommon state of mind. She stands wondering why\nshe was ever so foolish, so heartless, as to leave the tomb at all--why\nshe had allowed it to be possible to become separated from the Lord. She\nlooks despairingly at the empty grave-clothes which so lately had held\nall that was dear to her in the world. She might, she thinks, had she\nbeen present, have prevented the tomb from being emptied, but now it is\nempty she cannot fill it again. It is thus that those who have been\ncareless about maintaining communion with Christ reproach themselves\nwhen they find He is gone. The ordinances, the prayers, the quiet hours\nof contemplation, that once were filled with Him are now, like the linen\nclothes and the napkin, empty, cold, pale forms, remembrances of His\npresence that make His absence all the more painful. When we ask where\nwe can find Him, only the hard, mocking echo of the empty tomb replies.\nAnd yet this self-reproach is itself a seeking to which He will respond.\nTo mourn His absence is to desire and to invite His presence; and to\ninvite His presence is to secure it.[29]\n\nThe Evangelist Mark saw more in the Lord's appearance to Mary than a\nresponse to her seeking love. He reminds his readers that this was the\nwoman out of whom the Lord had cast seven devils, meaning apparently to\nsuggest that those who have most need of encouragement from Him are\nsurest to get it. He had not appeared to Peter and John, though these\nmen were to build up His Church and be responsible for His cause. To the\nman whom He loved, who had stood by Him at His trial and in His death,\nwho had received His mother and was now to be in His place to her, He\nmade no sign, but allowed him to examine the empty tomb and retire. But\nto this woman He discloses Himself at once. The love which sprang from a\nsense of what she owed Him kept her at the tomb and threw her in His\nway. Her sense of dependence was the magnetic point on earth which\nattracted and disclosed His presence. Observe the situation. Earth lay\nuncertain; some manifestation is needed to guide men at this critical\ntime; blank disappointment or pointless waiting broods everywhere. At\nwhat point shall the presence of Christ break through and quicken\nexpectation and faith? Shall He go to the high priest's palace or to\nPilate's praetorium and triumph over their dismay? Shall He go and lay\nbusy plans with this and that group of followers? On the contrary, He\nappears to a poor woman who can do nothing to celebrate His triumph and\nmight only discredit it, if she proclaimed herself His friend and\nherald. But thus continuous is the character of Jesus through death and\nresurrection. The meekness, the true perception of the actual sorrows\nand wants of men, the sense for spiritual need, the utter disregard of\nworldly powers and glory, characterise Him now as before. The sense of\nneed is what always effectually appeals to Him. The soul that truly\nrecognises the value and longs for the fellowship and possession of\nChrist's purity, devotion to God, superiority to worldly aims and\ninterests, always wins His regard. When a man prays for these things not\nwith his lips but with his life's effort and his heart's true craving,\nhis prayer is answered. To seek Christ is to feel as Mary felt, to see\nwith practical constraining clearness as she saw, that He is the most\nprecious of all possessions, that to be like Him is the greatest of all\nattainments; it is to see His character with clearness, and to be\npersuaded that, if the world gives us opportunity of becoming like Him\nand actually makes us like Him, it has done for us all that is vital and\npermanently important.\n\nAs Mary answered the angels she heard a step behind or saw the tomb\ndarkened by a shadow, and on turning discerns dimly through her tears a\nfigure which naturally enough she supposes to be the gardener--not\nbecause Jesus had assumed the clothes or lifted the tools of the\ngardener, but because he was the likeliest person to be going about the\ngarden at that early hour. As the heart overburdened with grief is often\nunconscious of the presence of Christ and refuses to be comforted\nbecause it cannot see Him for its sorrow, so Mary through the veil of\nher tears can see only a human form, and turns away again, unconscious\nthat He for whom she seeks is with her. As she turns, one word wipes the\ntears from her eyes and penetrates her heart with sudden joy. The\nutterance of her name was enough to tell her it was some one who knew\nher that was there; but there was a responsive thrill and an awaking of\nold memories and a vibration of her nature under the tone of that voice,\nwhich told her whose alone it could be. The voice seemed a second time\nto command a calm within her and turn her whole soul to Himself only.\nOnce before, that voice had banished from her nature the foul spirits\nthat had taken possession of her; she had \"awaked from hell beneath the\nsmile of Christ,\" and now again the same voice brought her out of\ndarkness into light. From being the most disconsolate, Mary became at a\nword the happiest creature in the world.\n\nMary's happiness is easily understood. No explanation is needed of the\npeace and bliss she experienced when she heard herself owned as the\nfriend of the risen Lord, and called by her name in the familiar tone by\nHim who stood now superior to all risk, assault, and evil. This perfect\njoy is the reward of all in the measure of their faith. Christ rose, not\nthat He might bring ecstasy to Mary alone, but that He might fill all\nthings with His presence and His fulness, and that our joy also might be\nfull. Has He not called us also by name? Has He not given us at times a\nconsciousness that He understands our nature and what will satisfy it,\nthat He claims an intimacy no other can claim, that His utterance of our\nname has a significance which no other lips can give it? Do we find it\ndifficult to enter into true intercourse with Him; do we envy Mary her\nfew minutes in the garden? As truly as by the audible utterance of our\nname does Christ now invite us to the perfect joy there is in His\nfriendship; so truly as if He stood with us alone, as with Mary in the\ngarden, and as if none but ourselves were present; as if our name alone\nfilled His lips, our wants alone occupied His heart. Let us not miss\ntrue personal intercourse with Christ. Let nothing cheat us of this\nsupreme joy and life of the soul. Let us not slothfully or shyly say, \"I\ncan never be on such terms of intimacy with Christ,--I who am so unlike\nHim; so full of desires He cannot gratify; so frivolous, superficial,\nunreal, while He is so real, so earnest; so unloving while He is so\nloving; so reluctant to endure hardness, with views of life and aims so\nopposed to His; so unable to keep a pure and elevated purpose\nsteadfastly in my mind.\" Mary was once trodden under foot of evil, a\nwreck in whom none but Christ saw any place for hope. It is what is in\n_Him_ that is powerful. He has won His supremacy by love, by refusing to\nenjoy His private rights without our sharing them; and He maintains His\nsupremacy by love, teaching all to love Him, subduing to devotedness the\nhardest heart--not by a remote exhibition of cold, unemotional\nperfection, but by the persistence and depth of His warm and individual\nlove.\n\nMary had no time to reason and doubt. With one quick exclamation of\necstatic recognition and joy she sprang towards Him. The one word \"my\nMaster,\"[30] uttered all her heart. It is related of George Herbert\nthat when he was inducted into the cure of Bemerton he said to a friend:\n\"I beseech God that my humble and charitable life may so win upon others\nas to bring glory to my Jesus, whom I have this day taken to be my\nMaster and my Governor, and I am so proud of His service that I will\nalways call Him Jesus, my Master.\" His biographer adds: \"He seems to\nrejoice in that word Jesus, and says that the adding these words 'my\nMaster' to it and the often repetition of them seemed to perfume his\nmind.\" With Mary the title was one of indefinite respect; she found in\nJesus one she could always reverence and trust. The firm, loving hand\nthat admits no soft evasion of duty; the steadfast step that with\nequanimity ever goes straight forward; the strong heart that has always\nroom for the distresses of others; the union with God which made Him a\nmedium to earth of God's superiority and availing compassion,--these\nthings had made the words \"my Master\" His proper designation in her\nlips. And our spirit cannot be purified and elevated but by worthy love\nand deserved reverence, by living in presence of that which commands our\nlove and lifts up our nature to what is above it. It is by letting our\nheart and mind be filled by what is above us that we grow in abiding\nstature and become in our turn helpful to what is at a still lower stage\nthan we are.\n\nBut as Mary sprang forward, and in a transport of affection made as\nthough she would embrace the Lord, she is met by these quick words:\n\"Touch Me not, for I am not yet ascended to My Father.\" Various\nconjectural reasons for this prohibition have been supposed,--as, that\nit was indecorous, an objection which Christ did not make when at a\ndinner-table a woman kissed his feet, scandalising the guests and\nprovoking the suspicions of the host; or, that she wished to assure\nherself by touch of the reality of the appearance, an assurance which He\ndid not object to the disciples making, but rather encouraged them to\nmake, as He would also have encouraged Mary had she needed any such\ntest, which she did not; or, that this vehement embrace would disturb\nthe process of glorification which was proceeding in His body! It is\nidle to conjecture reasons, seeing that He Himself gives the reason,\n\"for I am not yet ascended,\" implying that such \"touching\" would no\nlonger be prohibited when He was ascended. Mary seems to have thought\nthat already the \"little while\" of His absence was past, and that now He\nwas to be always with them upon earth, helping them in the same familiar\nways and training them by His visible presence and spoken words. This\nwas a misconception. He must first ascend to the Father, and those who\nlove Him on earth must learn to live without the physical appearance,\nthe actual seeing, touching, hearing, of the well-known Master. There\nmust be no more kissing of His feet, but homage of a sterner, deeper\nsort; there must be no more sitting at table with Him, and filling the\nmind with His words, until they sit down with Him in the Father's\npresence. Meanwhile His friends must walk by faith, not by sight--by\ntheir inward light and spiritual likings; they must learn the truer\nfidelity that serves an absent Lord; they must acquire the independent\nand inherent love of righteousness which can freely grow only when\nrelieved from the over-mastering pressure of a visible presence,\nencouraging us by sensible expressions of favour, guaranteeing us\nagainst defeat and danger. Thus only can the human spirit freely grow,\nshowing its native bent, its true tastes and convictions; thus only can\nits capacities for self-development and for choosing and fulfilling its\nown destiny be matured.\n\nAnd if these words of Jesus seemed at first chilling and repellent, they\nwere followed by words of unmistakable affection: \"Go to my brothers,\nand say unto them, I ascend unto My Father and your Father, and to My\nGod and your God.\" This is the message of the risen Lord to men. He has\nbecome the link between us and all that is highest and best. We know\nthat He has overcome all evil and left it behind; we know that He is\nworthy of the highest place, that by His righteousness and love He\nmerits the highest place. We know that if such an one as He cannot go\nboldly to the highest heaven and claim God as His God and Father, there\nis no such thing as moral worth, and all effort, conscience, hope,\nresponsibility, are vain and futile. We know that Christ must ascend to\nthe highest, and yet we know also that He will not enter where we cannot\nfollow. We know that His love binds Him to us as strongly as His rights\ncarry Him to God. We can as little believe that He will abandon us and\nleave us out of His eternal enjoyment, as we can believe that God would\nrefuse to own Him as Son. And it is this which Christ puts in the\nforefront of His message as risen and ascending: \"I ascend unto My\nFather and your Father.\" The joy that awaits Me with God awaits you\nalso; the power I go to exercise is the power of your Father. This\naffinity for heaven which you see in Me is coupled with affinity for\nyou. The holiness, the power, the victory, I have achieved and now enjoy\nare yours; I am your Brother: what I claim, I claim for you.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[29] See Pusey's sermon on this subject.\n\n[30] \"Rabboni\" had more of reverence in it than would be conveyed by \"my\nTeacher,\" and it is legitimate here to use \"Master\" in its wider sense.\n\n\n\n\nXXIII.\n\n_THOMAS' TEST._\n\n\n    \"When therefore it was evening, on that day, the first day of the\n    week, and when the doors were shut where the disciples were, for\n    fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and saith unto\n    them, Peace be unto you. And when He had said this, He showed unto\n    them His hands and His side. The disciples therefore were glad, when\n    they saw the Lord. Jesus therefore said to them again, Peace be unto\n    you: as the Father hath sent Me, even so send I you. And when He had\n    said this, He breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the\n    Holy Ghost: whosesoever sins ye forgive, they are forgiven unto\n    them; whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained. But Thomas, one\n    of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came.\n    The other disciples therefore said unto him, We have seen the Lord.\n    But he said unto them, Except I shall see in His hands the print of\n    the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my\n    hand into His side, I will not believe. And after eight days again\n    His disciples were within, and Thomas with them. Jesus cometh, the\n    doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto\n    you. Then saith He to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and see My\n    hands; and reach hither thy hand, and put it into My side: and be\n    not faithless, but believing. Thomas answered and said unto Him, My\n    Lord and my God. Jesus saith unto him, Because thou hast seen Me,\n    thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet\n    have believed.\"--JOHN xx. 19-29.\n\n\nOn the evening of the day whose dawning had been signalised by the\nResurrection, the disciples, and, according to Luke, some others, were\ntogether. They expected that the event which had restored hope in their\nown hearts would certainly excite the authorities and probably lead to\nthe arrest of some of their number. They had therefore carefully closed\nthe doors, that some time for parley and possibly for escape might be\ninterposed. But to their astonishment and delight, while they were\nsitting thus with closed doors, the well-known figure of their Lord\nappeared in their midst, and His familiar greeting, \"Peace be with you,\"\nsounded in their ears. Further to identify Himself and remove all doubt\nor dread He showed them His hands and His side; and, as St. Luke tells\nus, even ate before them. There is here a strange mingling of identity\nand difference between the body He now wears and that which had been\ncrucified. Its appearance is the same in some respects, but its\nproperties are different. Immediate recognition did not always follow\nHis manifestation. There was something baffling in His appearance,\nsuggesting a well-known face, and yet not quite the same. The marks on\nthe body, or some characteristic action or movement or utterance, were\nneeded to complete the identification. The properties of the body also\nwere not reducible to any known type. He could eat, speak, walk, yet He\ncould dispense with eating and could apparently pass through physical\nobstacles. His body was a glorified, spiritual body, not subject to the\nlaws which govern the physical part of man in this life. These\ncharacteristics are worth noticing, not only as giving us some inkling\nof the type of body which awaits ourselves, but in connection with the\nidentification of the risen Lord. Had the appearance been the mere fancy\nof the disciples, how should they have required any identification?\n\nHaving saluted them and removed their consternation, He fulfils the\nobject of His appearance by giving them their commission, their\nequipment, and their authority as His Apostles: \"As the Father hath sent\nMe, even so send I you\"--to fulfil still the same purpose, to complete\nthe work begun, to stand to Him in the same intimate relation as He had\noccupied to the Father. To impart to them at once all that they required\nfor the fulfilment of this commission He bestows upon them the Holy\nSpirit, breathing on them, to convey to them the impression that He was\nactually there and then communicating to them that which constituted the\nvery breath of His own life. This is His first act as Lord of all power\nin heaven and on earth, and it is an act which inevitably conveys to\nthem the assurance that His life and theirs is one life. Impulse and\npower to proclaim Him as risen they did not yet experience. They must be\nallowed time to settle to some composure of mind and to some clear\nthoughts after all the disturbing events of these last days. They must\nalso have the confirmatory testimony to the Resurrection, which could\nonly be furnished after repeated appearances of the Lord to themselves\nand to others. The gift of the Spirit, therefore, as a spirit of\npowerful witness-bearing, was reserved for six weeks.\n\nWith this perfect equipment our Lord added the words: \"Whosesoever sins\nye forgive, they are forgiven unto them; whosesoever sins ye retain,\nthey are retained.\" These words have been the occasion of endless\ncontroversy.[31] They certainly convey the ideas that the Apostles were\nappointed to mediate between Christ and their fellow-men, that the chief\nfunction they should be required to discharge in this mediation was the\nforgiving and retention of sins, and that they were furnished with the\nHoly Spirit to guide them in this mediation. Apparently this must mean\nthat the Apostles were to be the agents through whom Christ was to\nproclaim the terms of admission to His kingdom. They received authority\nto say in what cases sins were to be forgiven and in what to be\nretained. To infer from this that the Apostles have successors, that\nthese successors are constituted by an external ordinance or nomination,\nthat they have power to exclude or admit individuals seeking entrance\ninto the kingdom of God, is to leave logic and reason a long way behind,\nand to erect a kind of government in the Church of Christ which will\nnever be submitted to by those who live in the liberty wherewith His\ntruth has made them free. The presence of the Holy Spirit, and no bare\nexternal appointment, is that which gives authority to those who guide\nthe Church of Christ. It is because they are inwardly one with Christ,\nnot because they happen to be able to claim a doubtful outward\nconnection with Him, that they have that authority which Christ's people\nown.\n\nBut when our Lord thus appeared on the day of His resurrection to His\ndisciples one of their number was absent. This might not have been\nnoticed had not the absentee been of a peculiar temper, and had not this\npeculiarity given rise to another visit of the Lord and to a very\nsignificant restoration of belief in the mind of a sceptical disciple.\nThe absent disciple was commonly known as Thomas or Didymus, the Twin.\nOn various occasions he appears somewhat prominently in the\ngospel-story, and his conduct and conversation on those occasions show\nhim to have been a man very liable to take a desponding view of the\nfuture, apt to see the darker side of everything, but at the same time\nnot wanting in courage, and of a strong and affectionate loyalty to\nJesus. On one occasion, when our Lord intimated to the disciples His\nintention of returning within the dangerous frontier of Judaea, the\nothers expostulated, but Thomas said, \"Let us also go, that we may die\nwith Him\"--an utterance in which his devoted loyalty to his Master, his\ndogged courage, and his despondent temperament are all apparent. And\nwhen, some time afterwards, Jesus was warning His disciples that He must\nshortly leave them and go to the Father, Thomas sees in the departure of\nhis Master the extinction of all hope; life and the way to life seem to\nhim treacherous phrases, he has eyes only for the gloom of death: \"Lord,\nwe know not whither Thou goest; and how can we know the way?\"\n\nThe absence of such a man from the first meeting of the disciples was to\nbe expected.[32] If the bare possibility of his Lord's death had plunged\nthis loving and gloomy heart in despondency, what dark despair must\nhave preyed upon it when that death was actually accomplished! How the\nfigure of his dead Master had burnt itself into his soul is seen from\nthe manner in which his mind dwells on the print of the nails, the wound\nin the side. It is by these only, and not by well-known features of face\nor peculiarities of form, he will recognise and identify his Lord. His\nheart was with the lifeless body on the cross, and he could not bear to\nsee the friends of Jesus or speak with those who had shared his hopes,\nbut buried his disappointment and desolation in solitude and silence.\nHis absence can scarcely be branded as culpable. None of the others\nexpected resurrection any more than himself, but his hopelessness acted\non a specially sensitive and despondent nature. Thus it was that, like\nmany melancholy persons, he missed the opportunity of seeing what would\neffectually have scattered his darkness.\n\nBut though he might not be to blame for absenting himself, he was to\nblame for refusing to accept the testimony of his friends when they\nassured him they had seen Jesus risen. There is a tone of doggedness\nthat grates upon us in the words, \"Except I shall see in His hands the\nprint of the nails, _and put my finger_ into the print of the nails, and\nthrust my hand into His side, I will not believe.\" Some deference was\ndue to the testimony of men whom he knew to be truthful and as little\nliable to delusion as himself. We cannot blame him for not being\nconvinced on the spot; a man cannot compel himself to believe anything\nwhich does not itself compel belief. But the obstinate tone sounds as if\nhe was beginning to nurse his unbelief, than which there is no more\npernicious exercise of the human spirit. He demands, too, what may never\nbe possible--the evidence of his own senses. He claims that he shall be\non the same footing as the rest. Why is he to believe on less evidence\nthan they? It has cost him pain enough to give up his hope: is he then\nto give up his hopelessness as cheaply as all this? He is supremely\nmiserable; his Lord dead and life left to him--a life which already\nduring these few days had grown far too long, a weary, intolerable\nburden. Is he in a moment and on their mere word to rise from his\nmisery? A man of Thomas' temperament hugs his wretchedness. You seem to\ndo him an injury if you open the shutters of his heart and let in the\nsunshine.\n\nObviously, therefore, the first inference we naturally draw from this\nstate of mind is that it is weak and wrong to lay hold of one difficulty\nand insist that except this be removed we will not believe. Let this\ndifficulty about the constitution of Christ's person, or this about the\nimpossibility of proving a miracle, or this about the inspiration of\nScripture be removed, and I will accept Christianity; let God grant me\n_this_ petition, and I will believe that He is the hearer of prayer; let\nme see this inconsistency or that explained, and I will believe He\ngoverns the course of things in this world. The understanding begins to\ntake a pride in demanding evidence more absolute and strict than has\nsatisfied others, and seems to display acuteness and fairness in holding\nto one difficulty. The test which Thomas proposed to himself seemed an\naccurate and legitimate one; but that he should have proposed it shows\nthat he was neglecting the evidence already afforded him, the testimony\nof a number of men whose truthfulness he had for years made proof of.\nTrue, it was a miracle they required him to believe; but would his own\nsenses be better authentication of a miracle than the unanimous and\nexplicit declaration of a company of veracious men? He could have no\ndoubt that they believed they had seen the Lord. If they could be\ndeceived, ten of them, or many more, why should his senses prove more\ninfallible? Was he to reject their testimony on the ground that their\nsenses had deceived them, and accept the testimony of his own senses?\nWas the ultimate test in his own case to be that very evidence which in\nthe case of others he maintained was insufficient?\n\nBut if this tells seriously against Thomas, we must not leave out of\naccount what tells in his favour. It is true he was obstinate and\nunreasonable and a shade vain in his refusal to accept the testimony of\nthe disciples, but it is also true that he was with the little Christian\ncommunity on the second Lord's Day. This puts it beyond a doubt that he\nwas not so unbelieving as he seemed. That he did not now avoid the\nsociety of those happy, hopeful men shows that he was far from unwilling\nto become, if possible, a sharer in their hope and joy. Perhaps already\nhe was repenting having pledged himself to unbelief, as many another has\nrepented. Certainly he was not afraid of being convinced that his Lord\nhad arisen; on the contrary, he sought to be convinced of this and put\nhimself in the way of conviction. He had doubted because he wished to\nbelieve, doubted because it was the full, entire, eternal confidence of\nhis soul that he was seeking a resting-place for. He knew the tremendous\nimportance to him of this question--knew that it was literally\neverything to him if Christ was risen and was now alive and to be found\nby His people, and therefore he was slow to believe. Therefore also he\nkept in the company of believers; it was on their side he wished to get\nout of the terrible mire and darkness in which he was involved.\n\nIt is this which distinguishes Thomas and all right-minded doubters from\nthorough-going and depraved unbelievers. The one wishes to believe,\nwould give the world to be free from doubt, will go mourning all his\ndays, will pine in body and sicken of life because he cannot believe:\n\"he _waits_ for light, but behold obscurity, for brightness, but he\nwalks in darkness.\" The other, the culpable unbeliever, thrives on\ndoubt; he likes it, enjoys it, sports it, lives by it; goes about\ntelling people his difficulties, as some morbid people have a fancy for\nshowing you their sores or detailing their symptoms, as if everything\nwhich makes them different from other men, even though it be disease,\nwere a thing to be proud of. Convince such a man of the truth and he is\nangry with you; you seem to have done him a wrong, as the mendicant\nimpostor who has been gaining his livelihood by a bad leg or a useless\neye is enraged when a skilled person restores to him the use of his limb\nor shows him that he can use it if he will. You may know a dishonest\ndoubter by the fluency with which he states his difficulties or by the\naffectation of melancholy which is sometimes assumed. You may always\nknow him by his reluctance to be convinced, by his irritation when he is\nforced to surrender some pet bulwark of unbelief. When you find a man\nreading one side of the question, courting difficulties, eagerly seizing\non new objections, and provoked instead of thankful when any doubt is\nremoved, you may be sure that this is not a scepticism of the\nunderstanding so much as an evil _heart_ of unbelief.\n\nThe hesitancy and backwardness, the incredulity and niggardliness of\nfaith, of Thomas have done as much to confirm the minds of succeeding\nbelievers as the forward and impulsive confidence of Peter. Then, as\nnow, this critical intellect, when combined with a sound heart, wrought\ntwo great boons for the Church. The doubts which such men entertain\ncontinually provoke fresh evidence, as here this second appearance of\nChrist to the Eleven seems due to the doubt of Thomas. So far as one can\ngather it was solely to remove this doubt our Lord appeared. And,\nbesides, a second boon which attends honest and godly doubt is the\nattachment to the Church of men who have passed through severe mental\nconflict, and therefore hold the faith they have reached with an\nintelligence and a tenacity unknown to other men.\n\nThese two things were simply brought about in Thomas' instance. The\ndisciples were again assembled on the following Sunday, probably in the\nsame place, consecrated for ever in their memories as the place where\ntheir risen Lord had appeared. It is doubtful whether they were more\nexpectant of a fresh appearance of their Lord this day than they had\nbeen any day throughout the week, but certainly every reader feels that\nit is not without significance that after a blank and uneventful week\nthe first day should again be singled out to have this honour put upon\nit. Some sanction is felt to be given to those meetings of His followers\nwhich ever since have been assembled on the first day of the week; and\nthe experience of thousands can testify that this day seems still the\nfavourite with our Lord for manifesting Himself to His people, and for\nrenewing the joy which a week's work has somewhat dimmed. Silently and\nsuddenly as before, without warning, without opening of doors, Jesus\nstood in their midst. But there was no terror now--exclamations only of\ndelight and adoration. And perhaps it was not in human nature to resist\ncasting a look of triumphant interrogation at Thomas, a look of inquiry\nto see what he would make of this. Surprise, unutterable surprise,\nundiminished by all he had been led to expect, must have been written on\nThomas' wide-gazing eyes and riveted look. But this surprise was\ndisplaced by shame, this eager gaze cast down, when he found that his\nLord had heard his obstinate ultimatum and had been witness of his\nsullen unbelief. As Jesus repeats almost in the same words the hard,\nrude, bare, material test which he had proposed, and as He holds forth\nHis hands for his inspection, shame and joy struggle for the mastery in\nhis spirit, and give utterance to the humble but glowing confession, \"My\nLord and my God.\" His own test is superseded; he makes no movement to\nput it in force; he is satisfied of the identity of his Lord. It is the\nsame penetrating knowledge of man's inmost thoughts, the same loving\ntreatment of the erring, the same subduing presence.\n\nAnd thus it frequently happens that a man who has vowed that he will not\nbelieve except this or that be made plain finds, when he does believe,\nthat something short of his own requirements has convinced him. He finds\nthat though he was once so express in his demands for proof, and so\nclear and accurate in his declarations of the precise amount of evidence\nrequired, at the last he believes and could scarcely tell you why, could\nnot at least show his belief as the fine and clean result of a logical\nprocess. Thomas had maintained that the rest were too easily satisfied,\nbut at the last he is himself satisfied with precisely the same proof as\nthey. And it is somewhat striking that in so many cases unbelief gives\nway to belief, not by the removal of intellectual difficulties, not by\nsuch demonstration as was granted to Thomas, but by an undefinable\nconquest of the soul by Christ. The glory, holiness, love of His person,\nsubdue the soul to Him.\n\nThe faith of Thomas is full of significance. First, it is helpful to our\nown faith to hear so decisive and so full a confession coming from the\nlips of such a man. John himself felt it to be so decisive that after\nrecording it he virtually closes the Gospel which he had undertaken to\nwrite in order to persuade men that Jesus is the Son of God. After this\nconfession of Thomas he feels that no more can be said. He stops not for\nwant of matter; \"many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of His\ndisciples\" which are not written in this Gospel. These seemed\nsufficient. The man who is not moved by this will not be moved by any\nfurther proof. Proof is not what such a doubter needs. Whatever we think\nof the other Apostles, it is plain that Thomas at least was not\ncredulous. If Peter's generous ardour carried him to a confession\nunwarranted by the facts, if John saw in Jesus the reflection of his own\ncontemplative and loving nature, what are we to say of the faith of\nThomas? He had no determination to see only what he desired, no\nreadiness to accept baseless evidence and irresponsible testimony. He\nknew the critical nature of the situation, the unique importance of the\nmatter presented to his faith. With him there was no frivolous or\nthoughtless underrating of difficulties. He did not absolutely deny the\npossibility of Christ's resurrection, but he went very near doing so,\nand showed that practically he considered it either impossible or\nunlikely in the extreme. But in the end he believes. And the ease with\nwhich he passes from doubt to faith proves his honesty and\nsound-heartedness. As soon as evidence which to him is convincing is\nproduced, he proclaims his faith.\n\nHis confession, too, is fuller than that of the other disciples. The\nweek of painful questioning had brought clearly before his mind the\nwhole significance of the Resurrection, so that he does not hesitate to\nown Jesus as his God. When a man of profound spiritual feeling and of\ngood understanding has doubts and hesitations from the very intensity\nand subtlety of his scrutiny of what appears to him of transcendent\nimportance; when he sees difficulties unseen by men who are too little\ninterested in the matter to recognise them even though they stare them\nin the face,--when such a man, with the care and anxiety that befit the\nsubject, considers for himself the claims of Christ, and as the result\nyields himself to the Lord, he sees more in Christ than other men do,\nand is likely to be steadier in his allegiance than if he had slurred\nover apparent obstacles instead of removing them, and stifled objections\nin place of answering them. It was not the mere seeing of Christ risen\nwhich prompted the full confession of Thomas. But slowly during that\nweek of suspense he had been taking in the full significance of the\nResurrection, coming at the close of such a life as he knew the Lord had\nlived. The very idea that such a thing was believed by the rest forced\nhis mind back upon the exceptional character of Jesus, His wonderful\nworks, the intimations He had given of His connection with God. The\nsight of Him risen came as the keystone of the arch, which being wanting\nall had fallen to the ground, but being inserted clenched the whole, and\ncould now bear any weight. The truths about His person which Thomas had\nbegun to explain away return upon his mind with resistless force, and\neach in clear, certain verity. He saw now that his Lord had performed\nall His word, had proved Himself supreme over all that affected men. He\nsaw Him after passing through unknown conflict with principalities and\npowers come to resume fellowship with sinful men, standing with all\nthings under His feet, yet giving His hand to the weak disciple to make\nhim partake in His triumph.\n\nThis was a rare and memorable hour for Thomas, one of those moments that\nmark a man's spirit permanently. He is carried entirely out of himself,\nand sees nothing but his Lord. The whole energy of his spirit goes out\nto Him undoubtingly, unhesitatingly, unrestrained. Everything is before\nhim in the person of Christ; nothing causes the least diversion or\ndistraction. For once his spirit has found perfect peace. There is\nnothing in the unseen world that can dismay him, nothing in the future\non which he can spend a thought; his soul rests in the Person before\nhim. He does not draw back, questioning whether the Lord will now\nreceive him; he fears no rebuke; he does not scrutinise his spiritual\ncondition, nor ask whether his faith is sufficiently spiritual. He\ncannot either go back upon his past conduct, or analyse his present\nfeelings, or spend one thought of any kind upon himself. The scrupulous,\nsceptical man is all devoutness and worship; the thousand objections are\nswept from his mind; and all by the mere presence of Christ He is rapt\nin this one object; mind and soul are filled with the regained Lord; he\nforgets himself; the passion of joy with which he regains in a\ntransfigured form his lost Leader absorbs him quite: \"he had lost a\npossible king of the Jews; he finds his Lord and his God.\" There can be\nno question here about himself, his prospects, his interests. He can\nbut utter his surprise, his joy, and his worship in the cry, \"My Lord\nand my God.\"\n\nOn such a man even the Lord's benediction were useless. This is the\nhighest, happiest, rarest state of the human soul. When a man has been\ncarried out of himself by the clear vision of Christ's worth; when his\nmind and heart are filled with the supreme excellence of Christ; when in\nHis presence he feels he can but worship, bowing in his soul before\nactually achieved human perfection rooted in and expressing the true\nDivine glory of love ineffable; when face to face, soul to soul, with\nthe highest and most affecting known goodness, conscious that he now in\nthis very moment stands within touch of the Supreme, that he has found\nand need never more lose perfect love, perfect goodness, perfect\npower,--when a man is transported by such a recognition of Christ, this\nis the true ecstasy, this is man's ultimate blessedness.\n\nAnd this blessedness is competent not only to those who saw with the\nbodily eye, but much more to those who have not seen and yet have\nbelieved. Why do we rob ourselves of it, and live as if it were not\nso--as if such certitude and the joy that accompanies it had passed from\nearth and were no more possible? We cannot apply Thomas' test, but we\ncan test his test; or, like him, we can forego it, and rest on wider,\ndeeper evidence. Was he right in so eagerly confessing his belief? And\nare we right to hesitate, to doubt, to despond? Should we have counted\nit strange if, when the Lord addressed Thomas, he had sullenly shrunk\nback among the rest, or merely given a verbal assent to Christ's\nidentity, showing no sign of joy? And are we to accept the signs He\ngives us of His presence as if it made little difference to us and did\nnot lift us into heaven? Have we so little sense of spiritual things\nthat we cannot believe in the life of Him round whom the whole fortunes\nof our race revolve? Do we not know the power of Christ's resurrection\nas Thomas could not possibly know it? Do we not see as he could not see\nthe boundless spiritual efficacy and results of that risen life? Do we\nnot see the full bearing of that great manifestation of God's nearness\nmore clearly? Do we not feel how impossible it was that such an one as\nChrist should be holden of death, that the supremacy in human affairs\nwhich He achieved by absolute love and absolute holiness should be\nproved inferior to a physical law, and should be interrupted in its\nefficacious exercise by a physical fact? If Thomas was constrained to\nacknowledge Christ as his Lord and his God, much more may we do so. By\nthe nature of the case our conviction, implying as it does some\napprehension of spiritual things, must be more slowly wrought. Even if\nat last the full conviction that human life is a joy because Christ is\nwith us in it, leading us to eternal partnership with Himself,--even if\nthis conviction flash suddenly through the spirit, the material for it\nmust have been long accumulating. Even if at last we awake to a sense of\nthe present glory of Christ with the suddenness of Thomas, yet in any\ncase this must be the result of purified spiritual affinities and\nleanings. But on this very account is the conviction more indissolubly\nintertwined with all that we truly are, forming an essential and\nnecessary part of our inward growth, and leading each of us to respond\nwith a cordial amen to the benediction of our Lord, \"Blessed are they\nthat have not seen and yet have believed.\"\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[31] See Steitz' article _Schluesselgewalt_ in _Herzog_.\n\n[32] In this chapter there are reminiscences of Trench.\n\n\n\n\nXXIV.\n\n_APPEARANCE AT SEA OF GALILEE._\n\n\n    \"After these things Jesus manifested Himself again to the disciples\n    at the Sea of Tiberias; and He manifested Himself on this wise.\n    There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas called Didymus, and\n    Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, and the sons of Zebedee, and two other\n    of His disciples. Simon Peter saith unto them, I go a-fishing. They\n    say unto him, We also come with thee. They went forth, and entered\n    into the boat; and that night they took nothing. But when day was\n    now breaking, Jesus stood on the beach: howbeit the disciples knew\n    not that it was Jesus. Jesus therefore saith unto them, Children,\n    have ye aught to eat? They answered Him, No. And He said unto them,\n    Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and ye shall find. They\n    cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the\n    multitude of fishes. That disciple therefore whom Jesus loved saith\n    unto Peter, It is the Lord. So when Simon Peter heard that it was\n    the Lord, he girt his coat about him (for he was naked), and cast\n    himself into the sea. But the other disciples came in the little\n    boat (for they were not far from the land, but about two hundred\n    cubits off), dragging the net full of fishes. So when they got out\n    upon the land, they see a fire of coals there, and fish laid\n    thereon, and bread. Jesus saith unto them, Bring of the fish which\n    ye have now taken. Simon Peter therefore went up, and drew the net\n    to land, full of great fishes, a hundred and fifty and three: and\n    for all there were so many, the net was not rent. Jesus saith unto\n    them, Come and break your fast. And none of the disciples durst\n    inquire of Him, Who art Thou? knowing that it was the Lord. Jesus\n    cometh, and taketh the bread, and giveth them, and the fish\n    likewise. This is now the third time that Jesus was manifested to\n    the disciples, after that He was risen from the dead.\"--JOHN xxi.\n    1-14.\n\n\nThe removal of the doubts of Thomas restored the Eleven to unity of\nfaith, and fitted them to be witnesses of the Lord's resurrection. And\nthe Gospel might naturally have closed at this point, as indeed the last\nverses of the twentieth chapter suggest that the writer himself felt\nthat his task was done. But as throughout his Gospel he had followed the\nplan of adducing such of Christ's miracles as seemed to throw a strong\nlight on His spiritual power, he could not well close without mentioning\nthe last miracle of all, and which seemed to have only a didactic\npurpose. Besides, there was another reason for John adding this chapter.\nHe was writing at the very close of the century. So long had he survived\nthe unparalleled events he narrates that an impression had gone abroad\nthat he would never die. It was even rumoured that our Lord had foretold\nthat the beloved disciple should tarry on earth till He Himself should\nreturn. John takes the opportunity of relating what the Lord had really\nsaid, as well as of recounting the all-important event out of which the\nmisreported conversation had arisen.\n\nWhen the disciples had spent the Passover week at Jerusalem, they\nnaturally returned to their homes in Galilee. The house of the old\nfisherman Zebedee was probably their rendezvous. We need not listen to\ntheir talk as they relate what had passed in Jerusalem, in order to see\nthat they are sensible of the peculiarity of their situation and are in\na state of suspense.\n\nThey are back among the familiar scenes, the boats are lying on the\nbeach, their old companions are sitting about mending their nets as they\nthemselves had been doing a year or two before when summoned by Jesus to\nfollow Him on the moment. But though old associations are thus laying\nhold of them again, there is evidence that new influences are also at\nwork; for with the fishermen are found Nathanael and others who were\nthere, not for the sake of old associations, but of the new and common\ninterest they had in Christ. The seven men have kept together; they\nparticipate in an experience of which their fellow-townsmen know\nnothing; but they must live. Hints have been thrown out that seven\nstrong men must not depend on other arms than their own for a\nlivelihood. And as they stand together that evening and watch boat after\nboat push off, the women wishing their husbands and sons good-speed, the\nmen cheerily responding and busily getting their tackle in trim, with a\nlook of pity at the group of disciples, Peter can stand it no longer,\nbut makes for his own or some unoccupied boat with the words, \"I go\na-fishing.\" The rest were only needing such an invitation. The whole\ncharm and zest of the old life rushes back upon them, each takes his own\naccustomed place in the boat, each hand finds itself once more at home\nat the long-suspended task, and with an ease that surprises themselves\nthey fall back into the old routine.\n\nAnd as we watch their six oars flashing in the setting sun, and Peter\nsteering them to the familiar fishing ground, we cannot but reflect in\nhow precarious a position the whole future of the world is. That boat\ncarries the earthly hope of the Church; and as we weigh the feelings of\nthe men that are in it, what we see chiefly is, how easily the whole of\nChristianity might here have broken short off, and never have been heard\nof, supposing it to have depended for its propagation solely on the\ndisciples. Here they were, not knowing what had become of Jesus, without\nany plan for preserving His name among men, open to any impulse or\ninfluence, unable to resist the smell of the fishing boats and the\nfreshness of the evening breeze, and submitting themselves to be guided\nby such influences as these, content apparently to fall back into their\nold ways and obscure village life, as if the last three years were a\ndream, or were like a voyage to foreign parts, which they might think of\nafterwards, but were not to repeat. All the facts they were to use for\nthe conversion of the world were already in their possession; the death\nof Christ and His resurrection were not a fortnight old; but as yet they\nhad no inward impulse to proclaim the truth; there was no Holy Ghost\npowerfully impelling and possessing them; they were not endued with\npower from on high. One thing only they seemed to be decided and agreed\nabout--that they must live; and therefore they go a-fishing.\n\nBut apparently they were not destined to find even this so easy as they\nexpected. There was One watching that boat, following it through the\nnight as they tried place after place, and He was resolved that they\nshould not be filled with false ideas about the satisfactoriness of\ntheir old calling. All night they toiled, but caught nothing. Every old\ndevice was tried; the fancies of each particular kind of fish were\nhumoured, but in vain. Each time the net was drawn up, every hand knew\nbefore it appeared that it was empty. Weary with the fruitless toil, and\nwhen the best part of the night was gone, they made for a secluded part\nof the shore, not wishing to land from their first attempt empty in\npresence of the other fishermen. But when about one hundred yards from\nthe shore a voice hails them with the words, \"Children\"--or, as we would\nsay, \"Lads\"--\"have you taken any fish?\" It has been supposed that our\nLord asked this question in the character of a trader who had been\nwatching for the return of the boats that he might buy, or that it was\nwith the natural interest every one takes in the success of a person\nthat is fishing, so that we can scarcely pass without asking what take\nthey have had. The question was asked for the purpose of arresting the\nboat at a sufficient distance from the shore to make another cast of the\nnet possible. It has this effect; the rowers turned round to see who is\ncalling them, and at the same time tell Him they have no fish. The\nStranger then says, \"Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and ye\nshall find\"; and they do so, not thinking of a miracle, but supposing\nthat before any man would give them such express instructions he must\nhave had some good reason for believing there were fish there. But when\nthey found that the net was at once absolutely loaded with fish, so that\nthey could not draw it into the boat, John looks again at the Stranger,\nand whispers to Peter, \"It is the Lord.\" This was no sooner heard by\nPeter than he snatched up and threw over him his upper garment, and\nthrowing himself into the water swam or waded ashore.\n\nIn every trifling act character betrays itself. It is John who is first\nto recognise Jesus; it is Peter who casts himself into the sea, just as\nhe had done once before on that same lake, and as he had been first to\nenter the sepulchre on the morning of the Resurrection. John recognises\nthe Lord, not because he had better eyesight than the rest, nor because\nhe had a better position in the boat, nor because while the rest were\nbusied with the net he was occupied with the figure on the beach, but\nbecause his spirit had a quicker and profounder apprehension of\nspiritual things, and because in this sudden turn of their fortune he\nrecognised the same hand which had filled their nets once before and had\nfed thousands with one or two little fishes.\n\nThe reason of Peter's impetuousness on this occasion may partly have\nbeen that their fishing vessel was now as near the land as they could\nget it, and that he was unwilling to wait till they should get the small\nboat unfastened. The rest, we read, came ashore, not in the large vessel\nin which they had spent the night, but in the little boat they carried\nwith them, the reason being added, \"for they were not far from\nland\"--that is to say, not far enough to use the larger vessel any\nlonger. Peter, therefore, ran no risk of drowning. But his action\nreveals the eagerness of love. No sooner has he only heard from another\nthat his Lord is near, than the fish for which he had been watching and\nwaiting all night are forgotten, and for him, the master of the vessel,\nthe net and all its contents might have sunk to the bottom of the lake.\nWhat this action of Peter suggested to the Lord is apparent from the\nquestion which a few minutes later He put to him: \"Lovest thou Me more\nthan these?\"\n\nNeither would Peter have sustained any serious loss even though his nets\nhad been carried away, for when he reaches the shore he finds that the\nLord was to be their host, not their guest. A fire is ready lit, fish\nlaid on it and bread baking. He who could so fill their nets could also\nprovide for His own wants. But there was to be no needless\nmultiplication of miracles; the fish already on the fire was not to be\nmultiplied in their hands when plenty were lying in the net. He directs\nthem, therefore, to bring of the fish they had caught. They go to the\nnet, and mechanically, in their old fashion, count the fish they had\ntaken, one hundred and fifty and three; and John, with a fisher's memory\ncan tell you, sixty years after, the precise number. From these\nmiraculously provided fish they break their long fast.\n\nThe significance of this incident has perhaps been somewhat lost by\nlooking at it too exclusively as symbolical. No doubt it was so; but it\ncarried in the first place a most important lesson in its bare, literal\nfacts. We have already noticed the precarious position in which the\nChurch at this time was. And it will be useful to us in many ways to\nendeavour to rid our mind of all fancies about the beginning of the\nChristian Church, and look at the simple, unvarnished facts here\npresented to our view. And the plain and significant circumstance which\nfirst invites our attention is, that the nucleus of the Church, the men\non whom the faith of Christ depended for its propagation, were\nfishermen.\n\nThis was not merely the picturesque drapery assumed by men of ability so\ngreat and character so commanding that all positions in life were alike\nto them. Let us recall to memory the group of men we have seen standing\nat a corner in a fishing village or with whom we have spent a night at\nsea fishing, and whose talk has been _at the best_ old stories of their\ncraft or legends of the water. Such men were the Apostles. They were\nmen who were not at home in cities, who simply could not understand the\ncurrent philosophies, who did not so much as know the names of the great\ncontemporary writers of the Roman world, who took only so much interest\nin politics as every Jew in those troublous times was forced to\ntake--men who were at home only on their own lake, in their fishing\nboat, and who could quite contentedly, even after all they had recently\ngone through, have returned to their old occupation for life. They were\nin point of fact now returning to their old life--returning to it partly\nbecause they had no impulse to publish what they knew, and partly\nbecause, even though they had, they must live, and did not know how they\nshould be supported but by fishing.\n\nAnd this is the reason of this miracle; this is the reason why our Lord\nso pointedly convinced them that without Him they could not make a\nlivelihood: that they might fish all the night through and resort to\nevery device their experience could contrive and yet could catch\nnothing, but that He could give them sustenance as He pleased. If any\none thinks that this is a secular, shallow way of looking at the\nmiracle, let him ask what it is that chiefly keeps men from serving God\nas they think they should, what it is that induces men to live so much\nfor the world and so little for God, what it is that prevents them from\nfollowing out what conscience whispers is the right course. Is it not\nmainly the feeling that by doing God's will we ourselves are likely to\nbe not so well off, not so sufficiently provided for. Above all things,\ntherefore, both we and the Apostles need to be convinced that our Lord,\nwho asks us to follow Him, is much better able to provide for us than we\nourselves are. They had the same transition to make as every man among\nourselves has to make; we and they alike have to pass from the natural\nfeeling that we depend on our own energy and skill for our support to\nthe knowledge that we depend on God. We have to pass from the life of\nnature and sense to the life of faith. We have to come to know and\nbelieve that the fundamental thing is God, that it is He who can support\nus when nature fails, and _not_ that we must betake ourselves to nature\nat many points where God fails--that we live, not by bread alone, but by\nevery word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God, and are much safer\nin doing His bidding than in struggling anxiously to make a livelihood.\n\nAnd if we carefully read our own experience, might we not see, as\nclearly as the Apostles that morning saw, the utter futility of our own\nschemes for bettering ourselves in the world? Is it not the simple fact\nthat we also have toiled through every watch of the night, have borne\nfatigue and deprivation, have abandoned the luxuries of life and given\nourselves to endure hardness, have tried contrivance after contrivance\nto win our cherished project, and all in vain? Our net is empty and\nlight at the rising sun as it was at the setting. Have we not again and\nagain found that when every boat round was being filled we drew nothing\nbut disappointment? Have we not many times come back empty-handed to our\nstarting-place? But no matter how much we have thus lost or missed every\nman will tell you it is much better so than if he had succeeded, if only\nhis own ill-success has induced him to trust Christ, if only it has\ntaught him really what he used with everybody else verbally to\nsay,--that in that Person dimly discerned through the light that begins\nto glimmer round our disappointments there is all power in heaven and\non earth--power to give us what we have been trying to win, power to\ngive us greater happiness without it.\n\nBut this being so, it being the case that our Lord came this second time\nand called them away from their occupations to follow Him, and showed\nthem how amply He could support them, they could not but remember how He\nhad once before in very similar circumstances summoned them to leave\ntheir occupation as fishermen and to become fishers of men. They could\nnot but interpret the present by the former miracle, and read in it a\nrenewed summons to the work of catching men, and a renewed assurance\nthat in that work they should not draw empty nets. Most suitably, then,\ndoes this miracle stand alone, the only one wrought after the\nResurrection, and most suitably does it stand last, giving the Apostles\na symbol which should continually reanimate them to their laborious\nwork. Their work of preaching was well symbolised by _sowing_; they\npassed rapidly through the field of the world, at every step scattering\nbroadcast the words of everlasting life, not examining minutely the\nhearts into which these words might fall, not knowing where they might\nfind prepared soil and where they might find inhospitable rock, but\nassured that after a time whoso followed in their track should see the\nfruit of their words. Not less significant is the figure of the net;\nthey let down the net of their good tidings, not seeing what persons\nwere really enclosed in it, but trusting that He who had said, \"Cast\nyour net on the right side of the ship,\" knew what souls it would fall\nover. By this miracle He gave the Apostles to understand that not only\nwhen with them in the flesh could He give them success. Even now after\nHis resurrection and when they did not recognise Him on the shore He\nblessed their labour, that they might even when they did not see Him\nbelieve in His nearness and in His power most effectually to give them\nsuccess.\n\nThis is the miracle which has again and again restored the drooping\nfaith and discouraged spirit of all Christ's followers who endeavour to\nbring men under His influence, or in any way to spread out this\ninfluence over a wider surface. Again and again their hope is\ndisappointed and their labour vain; the persons they wish to influence\nglide out from below the net, and it is drawn empty; new opportunities\nare watched for, and new opportunities arrive and are used, but with the\nsame result; the patient doggedness of the fisherman long used to turns\nof ill-success is reproduced in the persevering efforts of parental love\nor friendly anxiety for the good of others, but often the utmost\npatience is at last worn out, the nets are piled away, and the gloom of\ndisappointment settles on the mind. Yet this apparently is the very hour\nwhich the Lord often chooses to give the long-sought-for success; in the\ndawn, when already the fish might be supposed to see the net and more\nvigilantly to elude it, our last and almost careless effort is made, and\nwe achieve a substantial, countable success--a success not doubtful, but\nwhich we could accurately detail to others, which makes a mark in the\nmemory like the hundred and fifty and three of these fishers, and which\nwere we to relate to others they must acknowledge that the whole weary\nnight of toil is amply repaid. And it is then a man recognises who it is\nthat has directed his labour--it is then he for the moment forgets even\nthe success in the more gladdening knowledge that such a success could\nonly have been given by One, and that it is the Lord who has been\nwatching his disappointments, and at last turning them into triumph.\n\nThe Evangelist adds, \"None of the disciples durst ask Him, Who art Thou?\nknowing that it was the Lord\"--a remark which unquestionably implies\nthat there was some ground for the question, Who art Thou? They knew it\nwas the Lord from the miracle He had wrought and from His manner of\nspeaking and acting; but yet there was in His appearance something\nstrange, something which, had it not also inspired them with awe, would\nhave prompted the question, Who art Thou? The question was always on\ntheir lips, as they found afterwards by comparing notes with one\nanother, but none of them durst put it. There was this time no\ncertification of His identity further than the aid He had given, no\nshowing of His hands and feet. It was, that is to say, by faith now they\nmust know Him, not by bodily eyesight; if they wished to deny Him, there\nwas room for doing so, room for questioning who He was. This was in the\nmost delicate correspondence with the whole incident. The miracle was\nwrought as the foundation and encouraging symbol of their whole vocation\nas fishers of men during His bodily absence; it was wrought in order to\nencourage them to lean on One whom they could not see, whom they could\nat best dimly descry on another element from themselves, and whom they\ncould not recognise as their Lord apart from the wonderful aid He gave\nthem; and accordingly even when they come ashore there is something\nmysterious and strange about His appearance, something that baffles\neyesight, something that would no longer have satisfied a Thomas,\nsomething therefore which is the fit preparation for a state in which\nthey were to live altogether by faith and not at all by sight. This is\nthe state in which we now live. He who believes will know that his Lord\nis near him; he who refuses to believe will be able to deny His\nnearness. It is faith then that we need: we need to know our Lord, to\nunderstand His purposes and His mode of fulfilling them, so that we may\nnot need the evidence of eyesight to say where He is working and where\nHe is not. If we are to be His followers, if we are to recognise that He\nhas made a new life for us and all men, if we are to recognise that He\nhas begun and is now carrying forward a great cause in this world, and\nif we see that, let our lives deny it as they may, there is nothing else\nworth living for than this cause, and if we are seeking to help it, then\nlet us confirm our faith by this miracle and believe that our Lord, who\nhas all power in heaven and on earth, is but beyond eyesight, has a\nperfectly distinct view of all we are doing and knows when to give us\nthe success we seek.\n\nThis, then, explains why it was that our Lord appeared only to His\nfriends after His resurrection. It might have been expected that on His\nrising from the dead He would have shown Himself as openly as before He\nsuffered, and would specially have shown Himself to those who had\ncrucified Him; but this was not the case. The Apostles themselves were\nstruck with this circumstance, for in one of his earliest discourses\nPeter remarks that He showed Himself \"not to all the people, but unto\nwitnesses chosen before of God, even to us who did eat and drink with\nHim after He rose from the dead.\" And it is obvious from the incident\nbefore us and from the fact that when our Lord showed Himself to five\nhundred disciples at once in Galilee, probably a day or two after this,\nsome even of them doubted--it is obvious from this that no good or\npermanent effect could have been produced by His appearing to all and\nsundry. It might have served as a momentary triumph, but even this is\ndoubtful; for plenty would have been found to explain away the miracle\nor to maintain it was a deception, and that He who appeared was not the\nsame as He who died. Or even supposing the miracle had been admitted,\nwhy was this miracle to produce any more profound spiritual effect in\nhearts unprepared than the former miracles had produced. It was not by\nany such sudden process men could become Christians and faithful\nwitnesses of Christ's resurrection. \"Men are not easily wrought upon to\nbe faithful advocates of any cause.\" They advocate causes to which they\nare by nature attached, or else they become alive to the merit of a\ncause only by gradual conviction and by deeply impressed and often\nrepeated instruction. To such a process the Apostles were submitted; and\neven after this long instruction their fidelity to Christ was tested by\na trial which shook to the foundations their whole character, which\nthrew out one of their number for ever, and which revealed the\nweaknesses of others.\n\nIn other words, they needed to be able to certify Christ's spiritual\nidentity as well as His physical sameness. They were so to know Him and\nso to sympathise with His character that they might be able after the\nResurrection to recognise Him by the continuity of that character and\nthe identity of purpose He maintained. They were by daily intercourse\nwith Him to be gradually led to dependence upon Him, and to the\nstrongest attachment to His person; so that when they became witnesses\nto Him they might not only be able to say, \"Jesus whom you crucified\nrose again,\" but might be able to illustrate His character by their\nown, to represent the beauty of His holiness by simply telling what\nthey had seen Him do and heard Him say, and to give convincing evidence\nin their own persons and lives that He whom they loved on earth lives\nand rules now in heaven.\n\nAnd what we need now and always is, not men who can witness to the fact\nof resurrection, but who can bear in upon our spirits the impression\nthat there is a risen Lord and a risen life through dependence on Him.\n\n\n\n\nXXV.\n\n_RESTORATION OF PETER._\n\n\n    \"So when they had broken their fast, Jesus saith to Simon Peter,\n    Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me more than these? He saith unto\n    Him, Yea, Lord; Thou knowest that I love Thee. He saith unto him,\n    Feed My lambs. He saith to him again a second time, Simon, son of\n    John, lovest thou Me? He saith unto Him, Yea, Lord; Thou knowest\n    that I love Thee. He saith unto him, Tend My sheep. He saith unto\n    him the third time, Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me? Peter was\n    grieved because He said unto him the third time, Lovest thou Me? And\n    he said unto Him, Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I\n    love Thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed My sheep.\"--JOHN xxi. 15-17.\n\n\nTo the interpretation of this dialogue between the Lord and Peter we\nmust bring a remembrance of the immediately preceding incident. The\nevening before had found several of those who had followed Jesus\nstanding among the boats that lay by the sea of Galilee. Boat after boat\nput out from shore; and as the familiar sights and smells and sounds\nawakened slumbering instincts and stirred old associations, Peter with\ncharacteristic restlessness and independence turned away to where his\nown old boat lay, saying, \"I go a-fishing.\" The rest only needed the\nexample. And as we watch each man taking his old place at the oar or\ngetting ready the nets, we recognise how slight a hold the Apostolic\ncall had taken of these men, and how ready they were to fall back to\ntheir old life. They lack sufficient inward impulse to go and proclaim\nChrist to men; they have no plans; the one inevitable thing is that they\nmust earn a livelihood. And had they that night succeeded as of old in\ntheir fishing, the charm of the old life might have been too strong for\nthem. But, like many other men, their failure in accomplishing their own\npurpose prepared them to discern and to fulfil the Divine purpose, and\nfrom catching fish worth so much a pound they became the most\ninfluential factors in this world's history. For the Lord had need of\nthem, and again called them to labour for Him, showing them how easily\nHe could maintain them in life and how full their nets would be when\ncast under His direction.\n\nWhen the Lord made Himself known by His miraculous action while yet the\ndisciples were too far off to see His features, Peter on the moment\nforgot the fish he had toiled for all night, and though master of the\nvessel left the net to sink or go to pieces for all he cared, and sprang\ninto the water to greet his Lord. Jesus Himself was the first to see the\nsignificance of the act. This vehemence of welcome was most grateful to\nHim. It witnessed to an affection which was at this crisis the most\nvaluable element in the world. And that it was shown not by solemn\nprotestations made in public or as part of a religious service, but in\nso apparently secular and trivial an incident, makes it all the more\nvaluable. Jesus hailed with the deepest satisfaction Peter's impetuous\nabandonment of his fishing gear and impatient springing to greet Him,\nbecause as plainly as possible it showed that after all Christ was\nincomparably more to him than the old life. And therefore when the first\nexcitement had cooled down Jesus gives Peter an opportunity of putting\nthis in words by asking him, \"Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me more\nthan these?\" Am I to interpret this action of yours as really meaning\nwhat it seems to mean--that I am more to you than boat, nets, old ways,\nold associations? Your letting go the net at the critical moment, and so\nrisking the loss of all, seemed to say that you love Me more than your\nsole means of gaining a livelihood. Well, is it so? Am I to draw this\nconclusion? Am I to understand that with a mind made up you do love Me\nmore than these things? If so, the way is again clear for Me to commit\nto your care what I love and prize upon earth--to say again, \"Feed My\nsheep.\"\n\nThus mildly does the Lord rebuke Peter by suggesting that in his recent\nconduct there were appearances which must prevent these present\nexpressions of his love from being accepted as perfectly genuine and\ntrustworthy. Thus gracefully does He give Peter opportunity to renew the\nprofession of attachment he had so shamefully denied by three times over\nswearing that he not only did not love Jesus, but knew nothing whatever\nabout the man. And if Peter at first resented the severity of the\nscrutiny, he must afterwards have perceived that no greater kindness\ncould have been done him than thus to press him to clear and resolved\nconfession. Peter had probably sometimes compared himself to Judas, and\nthought that the difference between his denial and Judas' betrayal was\nslight. But the Lord distinguished. He saw that Peter's sin was\nunpremeditated, a sin of surprise, while his heart was essentially\nsound.\n\nWe also must distinguish between the forgetfulness of Christ, to which\nwe are carried by the blinding and confusing throng of this world's ways\nand fashions and temptations, and a betrayal of Christ that has in it\nsomething deliberate. We admit that we have acted _as if_ we had no\ndesire to serve Christ and to bring our whole life within His kingdom;\nbut it is one thing to deny Christ through thoughtlessness, through\ninadvertence, through sudden passion or insidious, unperceived\ntemptation--another thing consciously and habitually to betake ourselves\nto ways which He condemns, and to let the whole form, appearance, and\nmeaning of our life plainly declare that our regard for Him is very\nslight when compared with our regard for success in our calling or\nanything that nearly touches our personal interests. Jesus lets Peter\nbreakfast first, He lets him settle, before He puts His question,\nbecause it matters little what we say or do in a moment of excitement.\nThe question is, what is our deliberate choice and preference--not what\nis our judgment, for of that there can be little question; but when we\nare self-possessed and cool, when the whole man within us is in\nequilibrium, not violently pulled one way or other, when we feel, as\nsometimes we do, that we are seeing ourselves as we actually are, do we\nthen recognise that Christ is more to us than any gain, success, or\npleasure the world can offer?\n\nThere are many who when the alternative is laid before them in cold\nblood choose without hesitation to abide with Christ at all costs. Were\nwe at this moment as conscious as Peter was when this question fell from\nthe lips of the living Person before him, whose eyes were looking for\nhis reply, that we now must give our answer, many of us, God helping us,\nwould say with Peter, \"Thou knowest that I love Thee.\" We could not say\nthat our old associations are easily broken, that it costs us nothing to\nhang up the nets with which so skilfully we have gathered in the world's\nsubstance to us, or to take a last look of the boat which has so\nfaithfully and merrily carried us over many a threatening wave and made\nour hearts glad within us. But our hearts are not set on these things;\nthey do not command us as Thou dost; and we can abandon whatever hinders\nus from following and serving Thee. Happy the man who with Peter feels\nthat the question is an easily answered one, who can say, \"I may often\nhave blundered, I may often have shown myself greedy of gain and glory,\nbut Thou knowest that I love Thee.\"\n\nIn this restoration of Peter our Lord, then, tests not the conduct, but\nthe heart. He recognises that while the conduct is the legitimate and\nnormal test of a man's feeling, yet there are times at which it is fair\nand useful to examine the heart itself apart from present manifestations\nof its condition; and that the solace which a poor soul gets after great\nsin, in refusing to attempt to show the consistency of his conduct with\nlove to Christ, and in clinging simply to the consciousness that with\nall his sin there is most certainly a surviving love to Christ, is a\nsolace sanctioned by Christ, and which He would have it enjoy. This is\nencouraging, because a Christian is often conscious that, if he is to be\njudged solely by his conduct, he must be condemned. He is conscious of\nblemishes in his life that seem quite to contradict the idea that he is\nanimated by a regard for Christ. He knows that men who see his\ninfirmities and outbreaks may be justified in supposing him a\nself-deceived or pretentious hypocrite, and yet in his own soul he is\nconscious of love to Christ. He can as little doubt this as he can doubt\nthat he has shamefully denied this in his conduct. He would rather be\njudged by omniscience than by a judgment that can scrutinise only his\noutward conduct. He appeals in his own heart from those who know in part\nto Him who knows all things. He knows perfectly well that if men are to\nbe expected to believe that he is a Christian he must prove this by his\nconduct; nay, he understands that love must find for itself a constant\nand consistent expression in conduct; but it remains an indubitable\nsatisfaction to be conscious that, despite all his conduct has said to\nthe contrary, he does in his soul love the Lord.\n\nThe determination of Christ to clear away all misunderstanding and all\ndoubtfulness about the relation His professed followers hold to Him is\nstrikingly exhibited in His subjecting Peter to a second and third\ninterrogation. He invites Peter to search deeply into his spirit and to\nascertain the very truth. It is the most momentous of all questions; and\nour Lord positively refuses to take a superficial, careless,\nmatter-of-course answer. He will thus question, and thrice question, and\nprobe to the quick all His followers. He seeks to scatter all doubt\nabout our relation to Him, and to make our living connection with Him\nclear to our own consciousness, and to place our whole life on this\nsolid basis of a clear, mutual understanding between Him and us. Our\nhappiness depends upon our meeting His question with care and sincerity.\nOnly the highest degree of human friendship will permit this persistent\nquestioning, this beating of us back and back on our own feelings,\ndeeper and deeper into the very heart of our affections, as if still it\nwere doubtful whether we had not given an answer out of mere politeness\nor profession or sentiment. The highest degree of human friendship\ndemands certainty, a basis on which it can build, a love it can entirely\ntrust. Christ had made good His right thus to question His followers and\nto require a love that was sure of itself, because on His part He was\nconscious of such a love and had given proof that His affection was no\nmere sentimental, unfruitful compassion, but a commanding, consuming,\nirrepressible, unconquerable love--a love that left Him no choice, but\ncompelled Him to devote Himself to men and do them all the good in His\npower.\n\nPeter's self-knowledge is aided by the form the question now takes. He\nis no longer asked to compare the hold Christ has upon him with his\ninterest in other things; but he is asked simply and absolutely whether\nlove is the right name for that which connects him with his Lord.\n\"_Lovest thou Me?_\" Separating yourself and Me from all others, looking\nstraight and simply at Me only, is \"love\" the right name for that which\nconnects us? Is it love, and not mere impulse? Is it love, and not\nsentiment or fancy? Is it love, and not sense of duty or of what is\nbecoming? Is it love, and not mere mistake? For no mistake is more\ndisastrous than that which takes something else for love.\n\nNow, to apprehend the significance of this question is to apprehend what\nChristianity is. Our Lord was on the point of leaving the world; and He\nleft its future, the future of the sheep He loved so well and had spent\nHis all upon, in the keeping of Peter and the rest, and the one security\nHe demanded of them was the confession of love for Himself. He did not\ndraw up a creed or a series of articles binding them to this and that\nduty, to special methods of governing the Church or to special truths\nthey were to teach it; He did not summon them into the house of Peter or\nof Zebedee, and bid them affix their signatures or marks to such a\ndocument. He rested the whole future of the work He had begun at such\ncost on their love for Him. This security alone He took from them. This\nwas the sufficient guarantee of their fidelity and of their wisdom. It\nis not great mental ability that is wanted for the furtherance of\nChrist's aims in the world. It is love of what is best, devotion to\ngoodness. No question is made about their knowledge; they are not asked\nwhat views they have about the death of Christ; they are not required to\nanalyse their feelings and say whence their love has sprung--whether\nfrom a due sense of their indebtedness to Him for delivering them from\nsin and its consequence, or from the grace and beauty of His character,\nor from His tender and patient consideration of them. There is no\nomission of anything vital owing to His being hurried in these morning\nhours. Three times over the question comes, and the third is as the\nfirst, a question solely and exclusively as to their love. Three times\nover the question comes, and three times over, when love is\nunhesitatingly confessed, comes the Apostolic commission, \"Feed My\nsheep.\" Love is enough--enough not only to save the Apostles themselves,\nbut enough to save the world.\n\nThe significance of this cannot be exaggerated. What is Christianity? It\nis God's way of getting hold of us, of attaching us to what is good, of\nmaking us holy, perfect men. And the method He uses is the presentation\nof goodness in a personal form. He makes goodness supremely attractive\nby exhibiting to us its reality and its beauty and its permanent and\nmultiplying power in Jesus Christ. Absolutely simple and absolutely\nnatural is God's method. The building up of systems of theology, the\nelaborate organisation of churches, the various, expensive, and\ncomplicated methods of men, how artificial do they seem when set\nalongside of the simplicity and naturalness of God's method! Men are to\nbe made perfect. Show them, then, that human perfection is perfect love\nfor them, and can they fail to love it and themselves become perfect?\nThat is all. The mission of Christ and the salvation of men through Him\nare as natural and as simple as the mother's caress of her child. Christ\ncame to earth because He loved men and could not help coming. Being on\nearth, He expresses what is in Him--His love, His goodness. By His\nloving all men and satisfying all their needs, men came to feel that\nthis was the Perfect One, and humbly gave themselves to Him. As simply\nas love works in all human affairs and relationships, so simply does it\nwork here.\n\nAnd God's method is as effectual as it is simple. Men do learn to love\nChrist. And this love secures everything. As a bond between two persons,\nnothing but love is to be depended upon. Love alone carries us out of\nourselves and makes other interests than our own dear to us.\n\nBut Christ requires us to love Him and invites us to consider whether we\ndo now love Him, because this love is an index to all that is in us of a\nmoral kind. There is so much implied in our love of Him, and so much\ninextricably intertwined with it, that its presence or absence speaks\nvolumes regarding our whole inward condition. It is quite true that\nnothing is more difficult to understand than the causes of love. It\nseems to ally itself with equal readiness with pity and with admiration.\nIt is attracted sometimes by similarity of disposition, sometimes by\ncontrast. It is now stirred by gratitude and again by the conferring of\nfavours. Some persons whom we feel we ought to love we do not draw to.\nOthers who seem comparatively unattractive strongly draw us. But there\nare always some persons in every society who are universally beloved;\nand these are persons who are not only good, but whose goodness is\npresented in an attractive form--who have some personal charm, in\nappearance or manner or disposition. If some churlish person does not\nown the ascendency, you know that the churlishness goes deep into the\ncharacter.\n\nBut this poorly illustrates the ascendency of Christ and what our\ndenial of it implies. His goodness is perfect and it is complete. Not to\nlove Him is not to love goodness; it is to be out of sympathy with what\nattracts pure and loving spirits. For whatever be the apparent or\nobscure causes of love, this is certain--that we love that which best\nfits and stimulates our whole nature. Love lies deeper than the will; we\ncannot love because we wish to do so, any more than we can taste honey\nbitter because we wish to do so. We cannot love a person because we know\nthat their influence is needful to forward our interests. But if love\nlies deeper than the will, what power have we to love what at present\ndoes not draw us? We have no power to do so immediately; but we can use\nthe means given us for altering, purifying, and elevating our nature. We\ncan believe in Christ's power to regenerate us, we can faithfully follow\nand serve Him, and thus we shall learn one day to love Him.\n\nBut the presence or absence in us of the love of Christ is an index not\nonly to our present state, but a prophecy of all that is to be. The love\nof Christ was that which enabled and impelled the Apostles to live great\nand energetic lives. It was this simple affection which made a life of\naggression and reformation possible to them. This gave them the right\nideas and the sufficient impulse. And it is this affection which is open\nto us all and which equally now as at first impels to all good. Let the\nlove of Christ possess any soul and that soul cannot avoid being a\nblessing to the world around. Christ scarcely needed to say to Peter,\n\"Feed My sheep; be helpful to those for whom I died,\" because in time\nPeter must have seen that this was his calling. Love gives us sympathy\nand intelligence. Our conscience is enlightened by sympathy with the\nperson we love; through their desires, which we wish to gratify, we see\nhigher aims than our own, aims which gradually become our own. And\nwherever the love of Christ exists, there sooner or later will the\npurposes of Christ be understood, His aims be accepted, His fervent\ndesire and energetic endeavour for the highest spiritual condition of\nthe race become energetic in us and carry us forward to all good.\nIndeed, Jesus warns Peter of the uncontrollable power of this affection\nhe expressed. \"When you were younger,\" He says, \"you girded yourself and\nwalked where you would; but when you are old another shall gird you, and\ncarry you on to martyrdom.\" For he who is possessed by the love of\nChrist is as little his own master and can as little shrink from what\nthat love carries him to as the man that is carried to execution by a\nRoman guard. Self-possession terminates when the soul can truly say,\n\"Thou knowest that I love Thee.\" There is henceforth no choosing of ways\nof our own; our highest and best self is evoked in all its power, and\nasserts itself by complete abnegation of self and eager identification\nof self with Christ. This new affection commands the whole life and the\nwhole nature. No more can the man spend himself in self-chosen\nactivities, in girding himself for great deeds of individual\nglorification, or in walking in ways that promise pleasure or profit to\nself; he willingly stretches forth his hands, and is carried to much\nthat flesh and blood shrink from, but which is all made inevitable,\nwelcome, and blessed to him through the joy of that love that has\nappointed it.\n\nBut are we not thus pronouncing our own condemnation? This is, it is\neasy to see, the true and natural education of the human spirit--to love\nChrist, and so learn to see with His eyes and become enamoured of His\naims and grow up to His likeness. But where in us is this absorbing,\neducating, impelling, irresistible power? To recognise the beauty and\nthe certainty of God's method is not the difficulty; the difficulty is\nto use it, to find in ourselves that which carries us into the presence\nof Christ, saying, \"Thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love\nThee.\" Admiration we have; reverence we have; faith we have; but there\nis more than these needed. None of these will impel us to life-long\nobedience. Love alone can carry us away from sinful and selfish ways.\nBut this testing question, \"Lovest thou Me?\" was not the first but the\nlast put to Peter by our Lord. It was only put after they had passed\nthrough many searching experiences together. And if we feel that for us\nto adopt as our own Peter's assured answer would only be to deceive\nourselves and trifle with the most serious of matters, we are to\nconsider that Christ seeks to win our love also, and that the ecstasy of\nconfessing our love with assurance is reserved even for us. It is\npossible we may already have more love than we think. It is no uncommon\nthing to love a person and not know it until some unusual emergency or\nconjuncture of circumstances reveals us to ourselves. But if we are\nneither conscious of love nor can detect any marks of it in our life, if\nwe know ourselves to be indifferent to others, deeply selfish, unable to\nlove what is high and self-sacrificing, let us candidly admit the full\nsignificance of this, and even while plainly seeing what we are, let us\nnot relinquish the great hope of being at length able to give our heart\nto what is best and of being bound by an ever-increasing love to the\nLord.\n\n\n\n\nXXVI.\n\n_CONCLUSION._\n\n\n    \"Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast young, thou\n    girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but when thou\n    shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall\n    gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not. Now this he\n    spake, signifying by what manner of death he should glorify God. And\n    when He had spoken this, He saith unto him, Follow Me. Peter,\n    turning about, seeth the disciple whom Jesus loved following; which\n    also leaned back on His breast at the supper, and said, Lord, who is\n    he that betrayed Thee? Peter therefore seeing Him saith to Jesus,\n    Lord, and what shall this man do? Jesus saith unto him, If I will\n    that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? follow thou Me.\n    This saying therefore went forth among the brethren, that that\n    disciple should not die: yet Jesus said not unto him, that he should\n    not die; but, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to\n    thee? This is the disciple which beareth witness of these things,\n    and wrote these things: and we know that his witness is true. And\n    there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which if they\n    should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself\n    would not contain the books that should be written.\"--JOHN xxi.\n    18-25.\n\n\nPeter, springing up in the boat, and snatching his fisher's coat, and\ngirding it round him, and dashing into the water, seemed to Jesus a\npicture of impetuous, inexperienced, fearless love. And as He looked\nupon it another picture began to shine through it from behind and\ngradually take its place--the picture of what was to be some years later\nwhen that impetuous spirit had been tamed and chastened, when age had\ndamped the ardour though it had not cooled the love of youth, and when\nPeter should be bound and led out to crucifixion for his Lord's sake. As\nPeter wades and splashes eagerly to the shore the eye of Jesus rests on\nhim with pity, as the eye of a parent who has passed through many of the\nworld's darkest places rests on the child who is speaking of all he is\nto do and to enjoy in life. Fresh from His own agony, our Lord knows how\ndifferent a temper is needed for prolonged endurance. But little\ndisposed to throw cold water on genuine, however miscalculating\nenthusiasm, having it for His constant function to fan not to quench the\nsmoking flax, He does not disclose to Peter all His forebodings, but\nmerely hints, as the disciple comes dripping out of the water, that\nthere are severer trials of love awaiting him than those which mere\nactivity and warmth of feeling can overcome, \"When thou wast young,\nthou girdedst thyself and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but when thou\nshalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird\nthee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not.\"\n\nTo a man of Peter's impulsive and independent temperament no future\ncould seem less desirable than that in which he should be unable to\nchoose for himself and do as he pleased. Yet this was the future to\nwhich the love he was now expressing committed him. This love, which at\npresent was a delightful stimulus to his activities, diffusing joy\nthrough all his being, would gain such mastery over him that he would be\nimpelled by it to a course of life full of arduous undertaking and\nentailing much suffering. The free, spontaneous, self-considering life\nto which Peter had been accustomed; the spirit of independence and right\nof choosing his own employments which had so clearly shown itself the\nevening before in his words, \"I go a-fishing\"; the inability to own\nhindrances and recognise obstacles which so distinctly betrayed itself\nin his leaping into the water,--this confident freedom of action was\nsoon to be a thing of the past. This ardour was not useless; it was the\ngenuine heat which, when plunged in the chilling disappointments of\nlife, would make veritable steel of Peter's resolution. But such trial\nof Peter's love did await it; and it awaits all love. The young may be\narrested by suffering, or they may be led away from the directions they\nhad chosen for themselves; but the chances of suffering increase with\nyears, and what is possible in youth becomes probable and almost certain\nin the lapse of a lifetime. So long as our Christian life utters itself\nin ways we choose for ourselves and in which much active energy can be\nspent and much influence exerted, there is so much in this that is\npleasing to self that the amount of love to Christ required for such a\nlife may seem very small. Any little disappointment or difficulty we\nmeet with acts only as a tonic, like the chill of the waters of the lake\nat dawn. But when the ardent spirit is bound in the fetters of a\ndisabled, sickly body; when a man has to lay himself quietly down and\nstretch forth his hands on the cross of a complete failure that nails\nhim down from ever again doing what he would, or of a loss that makes\nhis life seem a living death; when the irresistible course of events\nleads him past and away from the hopefulness and joy of life; when he\nsees that his life is turning out weak and ineffectual, even as the\nlives of others,--then he finds he has a more difficult part to play\nthan when he had to choose his own form of activity and vigorously put\nforth the energy that was in him. To suffer without repining, to be laid\naside from the stir and interest of the busy world, to submit when our\nlife is taken out of our own hands and is being moulded by influences\nthat pain and grieve us--this is found to test the spirit more than\nactive duty.\n\nThe contrast drawn by our Lord between the youth and age of Peter is\ncouched in language so general that it throws light on the usual course\nof human life and the broad characteristics of human experience. In\nyouth attachment to Christ will naturally show itself in such gratuitous\nand yet most pardonable and even touching exhibitions of love as Peter\nhere made. There is a girding of oneself to duty and to all manner of\nattainment. There is no hesitation, no shivering on the brink, no\nweighing of difficulties; but an impulsive and almost headstrong\ncommital of oneself to duties unthought of by others, an honest surprise\nat the laxity of the Church, much brave speaking, and much brave acting\ntoo. Some of us, indeed, taking a hint from our own experience, may\naffirm that a good deal we hear about youth being warmer in Christ's\nservice than maturity is not true, and that it had been a very poor\nprospect for ourselves if it had been true; and that with greater truth\nit may be said that youthful attachment to Christ is often delusive,\nselfish, foolish, and sadly in need of amendment. This may be so.\n\nBut however this may be, there can be no doubt that in youth we are free\nto choose. Life lies before us like the unhewn block of marble, and we\nmay fashion it as we please. Circumstances may seem to necessitate our\ndeparting from one line of life and choosing another; but,\nnotwithstanding, all the possibilities are before us. We may make ours a\nhigh and noble career; life is not as yet spoiled for us, or determined,\nwhile we are young. The youth is free to walk whither he will; he is not\nyet irrecoverably pledged to any particular calling; he is not yet\ndoomed to carry to the grave the marks of certain habits, but may gird\non himself whatever habit may fit him best and leave him freest for\nChrist's service.\n\nPeter heard the words \"Follow Me,\" and rose and went after Jesus; John\ndid the same without any special call. There are those who need definite\nimpulses, others who are guided in life by their own constant love. John\nwould always absorbedly follow. Peter had yet to learn to follow, to own\na leader. He had to learn to seek the guidance of his Lord's will, to\nwait upon that will and to interpret it--never an easy thing to do, and\nleast of all easy to a man like Peter, fond of managing, of taking the\nlead, too hasty to let his thoughts settle and his spirit fixedly\nconsider the mind of Christ.\n\nIt is obvious that when Jesus uttered the words \"Follow Me,\" He moved\naway from the spot where they had all been standing together. And yet,\ncoming as they did after so very solemn a colloquy, these words must\nhave carried to Peter's mind a further significance than merely an\nintimation that the Lord wished His company then. Both in the mind of\nthe Lord and of Peter there seems still to have been a vivid remembrance\nof Peter's denial; and as the Lord has given him opportunity of\nconfessing his love, and has hinted what this love will lead him to, He\nappropriately reminds him that any penalties he might suffer for his\nlove were all in the path which led straight to where Christ Himself for\never is. The superiority to earthly distresses which Christ now enjoyed\nwould one day be his. But while he is beginning to take in these\nthoughts Peter turns and sees John following; and, with that promptness\nto interfere which characterised him, he asked Jesus what was to become\nof this disciple. This question betrayed a want of steadiness and\nseriousness in contemplating his own duty, and met therefore with\nrebuke: \"If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?\nfollow thou Me.\" Peter was prone to intermeddle with matters beyond his\nsphere, and to manage other people's affairs for them. Such a\ndisposition always betrays a lack of devotion to our own calling. To\nbrood over the easier lot of our friend, to envy him his capacity and\nsuccess, to grudge him his advantages and happiness, is to betray an\ninjurious weakness in ourselves. To be unduly anxious about the future\nof any part of Christ's Church, as if He had omitted to arrange for that\nfuture, to act as if we were essential to the well-being of some part of\nChrist's Church, is to intermeddle like Peter. To show astonishment or\nentire incredulity or misunderstanding if a course in life quite\ndifferent from ours is found to be quite as useful to Christ's people\nand to the world as ours; to show that we have not yet apprehended how\nmany men, how many minds, how many methods, it takes to make a world, is\nto incur the rebuke of Peter. Christ alone is broad as humanity and has\nsympathy for all. He alone can find a place in His Church for every\nvariety of man.\n\nComing to the close of this Gospel, we cannot but most seriously ask\nourselves whether in our case it has accomplished its object. We have\nadmired its wonderful compactness and literary symmetry. It is a\npleasure to study a writing so perfectly planned and wrought out with\nsuch unfailing beauty and finish. No one can read this Gospel without\nbeing the better for it, for the mind cannot pass through so many\nsignificant scenes without being instructed, nor be present at so many\npathetic passages without being softened and purified. But after all the\nadmiration we have spent upon the form and the sympathy we have felt\nwith the substance of this most wonderful of literary productions, there\nremains the question: Has it accomplished its object? John has none of\nthe artifice of the modern teacher who veils his didactic purpose from\nthe reader. He plainly avows his object in writing: \"These signs are\nwritten that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God,\nand that believing ye might have life through His name.\" After half a\ncentury's experience and consideration, he selects from the abundant\nmaterial afforded him in the life of Jesus those incidents and\nconversations which had most powerfully impressed himself and which\nseemed most significant to others, and these he presents as sufficient\nevidence of the divinity of his Lord. The mere fact that he does so is\nitself very strong evidence of his truth. Here is a Jew, trained to\nbelieve that no sin is so heinous as blasphemy, as the worshipping more\ngods than one or making any equal with God--a man to whom the most\nattractive of God's attributes was His truth, who felt that the highest\nhuman joy was to be in fellowship with Him in whom is no darkness at\nall, who knows the truth, who is the truth, who leads and enables men to\nwalk in the light as He is in the light. What has this hater of idolatry\nand of lying found as the result of a holy, truth-seeking life? He has\nfound that Jesus, with whom he lived on terms of the most intimate\nfriendship, whose words he listened to, the working of whose feelings he\nhad scanned, whose works he had witnessed, was the Son of God. I say the\nmere fact that such a man as John seeks to persuade us of the divinity\nof Christ goes far to prove that Christ was Divine. This was the\nimpression His life left on the man who knew Him best, and who was,\njudging from his own life and Gospel, better able to judge than any man\nwho has since lived. It is sometimes even objected to this Gospel that\nyou cannot distinguish between the sayings of the Evangelist and the\nsayings of his Master. Is there any other writer who would be in the\nsmallest danger of having his words confounded with Christ's? Is not\nthis the strongest proof that John was in perfect sympathy with Jesus,\nand was thus fitted to understand Him? And it is this man, who seems\nalone capable of being compared with Jesus, that explicitly sets Him\nimmeasurably above himself, and devotes his life to the promulgation of\nthis belief.\n\nJohn, however, does not expect that men will believe this most\nstupendous of truths on his mere word. He sets himself therefore to\nreproduce the life of Jesus, and to retain in the world's memory those\nsalient features which gave it its character. He does not argue nor draw\ninferences. He believes that what impressed him will impress others. One\nby one he cites his witnesses. In the simplest language he tells us what\nChrist said and what He did, and lets us hear what this man and that man\nsaid of Him. He tells us how the Baptist, himself pure to asceticism, so\ntrue and holy as to command the submission of all classes in the\ncommunity, assured the people that he, though greater and felt to be\ngreater than any of their old prophets, was not of the same world as\nJesus. This man who stands on the pinnacle of human heroism and\nattainment, reverenced by his nation, feared by princes for the sheer\npurity of his character, uses every contrivance of language to make the\npeople understand that Jesus is infinitely above him, incomparable. He\nhimself, he said, was of the earth: Jesus was from above and above all;\nHe was from heaven, and could speak of things He had seen; He was the\nSon.\n\nThe Evangelist tells us how the incredulous but guileless Nathanael was\nconvinced of the supremacy of Jesus, and how the hesitating Nicodemus\nwas constrained to acknowledge Him a teacher sent by God. And so he\ncites witness after witness, never garbling their testimony, not making\nall bear the one uniform testimony which he himself bears; nay, showing\nwith as exact a truthfulness how unbelief grew, as how faith rose from\none degree to another, until the climax is reached in Thomas's explicit\nconfession, \"My Lord and my God!\" No doubt some of the confessions which\nJohn records were not acknowledgments of the full and proper divinity\nof Christ. The term \"Son of God\" cannot, wherever used, be supposed to\nmean that Christ is God. We, though human, are all of us sons of God--in\none sense by our natural birth, in another by our regeneration. But\nthere are instances in which the interpreter is compelled to see in the\nterm a fuller significance, and to accept it as attributing divinity to\nChrist. When, for example, John says, \"No man hath seen God at any time:\nthe _only-begotten Son_, which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath\ndeclared Him,\" it is evident that he thinks of Christ as standing in a\nunique relation to God, which separates Him from the ordinary relation\nin which men stand to God. And that the disciples themselves passed from\na more superficial use of the term to a use which had a deeper\nsignificance is apparent in the instance of Peter. When Peter in answer\nto the inquiry of Jesus replied, \"Thou art the Christ, the Son of the\nliving God,\" Jesus replied, \"Flesh and blood hath not revealed this unto\nthee\"; but this was making far too much of Peter's confession if he only\nmeant to acknowledge Him to be the Messiah. In point of fact, flesh and\nblood did reveal the Messiahship of Jesus to Peter, for it was his own\nbrother Andrew who told Peter that he had found the Messiah, and brought\nhim to Jesus. Plainly therefore Jesus meant that Peter had now made a\nfurther step in his knowledge and in his faith, and had learned to\nrecognise Jesus as not only Messiah, but as Son of God in the proper\nsense.\n\nIn this Gospel, then, we have various forms of evidence. We have the\ntestimonies of men who had seen and heard and known Jesus, and who,\nthough Jews, and therefore intensely prejudiced against such a\nconception, enthusiastically owned that Christ was in the proper sense\nDivine. We have John's own testimony, who writes his Gospel for the\npurpose of winning men to faith in Christ's Sonship, who calls Christ\nLord, applying to Him the title of Jehovah, and who in so many words\ndeclares that \"the Word was God\"--the Word who became flesh in Jesus\nChrist. And what is perhaps even more to the purpose, we have\naffirmations of the same truth made by Jesus Himself: \"Before Abraham\nwas I am\"; \"I and the Father are one\"; \"The glory which I had with Thee\nbefore the world was\"; \"He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father.\" Who\nthat listens to these sayings can marvel that the horrified Jews\nconsidered that He was making Himself equal with God and took up stones\nto stone Him for blasphemy? Who does not feel that when Jesus allowed\nthis accusation to be brought against Him at the last, and when He\nallowed Himself to be condemned to death on the charge, He must have put\nthe same meaning on His words that they put? Otherwise, if He did not\nmean to make Himself equal with the Father, would He not have been the\nvery first to unmask and protest against so misleading a use of\nlanguage? Had He not known Himself to be Divine, no member of the\nSanhedrim could have been so shocked as He to listen to such language or\nto use it.\n\nBut in reading this Gospel one cannot but remark that John lays great\nstress on the miracles which Christ wrought. In fact, in announcing his\nobject in writing it is especially to the miracles he alludes when he\nsays, \"These signs are written that ye might believe.\" In recent years\nthere has been a reaction against the use of miracles as evidence of\nChrist's claim to be sent by God. This reaction was the necessary\nconsequence of a defective view of the nature, meaning, and use of\nmiracles. For a long period they were considered as merely wonders\nwrought in order to prove the power and authority of the Person who\nwrought them. This view of miracles was so exclusively dwelt upon and\nurged, that eventually a reaction came; and now this view is\ndiscredited. This is invariably the process by which steps in knowledge\nare gained. The pendulum swings first to the one extreme, and the height\nto which it has swung in that direction measures the momentum with which\nit swings to the opposite side. A one-sided view of the truth, after\nbeing urged for a while, is found out and its weakness is exposed, and\nforthwith it is abandoned as if it were false; whereas it is only false\nbecause it claimed to be the whole truth. Unless it be carried with us,\nthen, the opposite extreme to which we now pass will in time be found\nout in the same way and its deficiencies be exposed.\n\nIn regard to miracles the two truths which must be held are: first, that\nthey were wrought to make known the character and the purposes of God;\nand, secondly, that they serve as evidence that Jesus was the revealer\nof the Father. They not only authenticate the revelation; they\nthemselves reveal God. They not only direct attention to the Teacher;\nthey are themselves the lessons He teaches.\n\nDuring the Irish famine agents were sent from England to the distressed\ndistricts. Some were sent to make inquiries, and had credentials\nexplaining who they were and on what mission; they carried documents\nidentifying and authenticating them. Other agents went with money and\nwaggon-loads of flour, which were their own authentication. The\ncharitable gifts told their own story; and while they accomplished the\nobject the charitable senders of the mission had in view, they made it\neasy of belief that they came from the charitable in England. So the\nmiracles of Christ were not bare credentials accomplishing nothing else\nthan this--that they certified that Christ was sent from God; they were\nat the same time, and in the first place, actual expressions of God's\nlove, revealing God to men as their Father.\n\nOur Lord always refused to show any bare authentication. He refused to\nleap off a pinnacle of the Temple, which could serve no other purpose\nthan to prove He had power to work miracles. He resolutely and uniformly\ndeclined to work mere wonders. When the people clamoured for a miracle,\nand cried, \"How long dost Thou make us doubt?\" when they pressed Him to\nthe uttermost to perform some marvellous work solely and merely for the\nsake of proving His Messiahship or His mission, He regularly declined.\nOn no occasion did He admit that such authentication of Himself was a\nsufficient cause for a miracle. The main object, then, of the miracles\nplainly was not evidential. They were not wrought chiefly, still less\nsolely, for the purpose of convincing the onlookers that Jesus wielded\nsuper-human power.\n\nWhat, then, was their object? Why did Jesus so constantly work them? He\nwrought them because of His sympathy with suffering men,--never for\nHimself, always for others; never to accomplish political designs or to\naggrandise the rich, but to heal the sick, to relieve the mourning;\nnever to excite wonder, but to accomplish some practical good. He\nwrought them because in His heart He bore a Divine compassion for men\nand felt for us in all that distresses and destroys. His heart was\nburdened by the great, universal griefs and weaknesses of men: \"Himself\ntook our infirmities and bare our sicknesses.\" But this was the very\nrevelation He came to make. He came to reveal God's love and God's\nholiness, and every miracle He wrought was an impressive lesson to men\nin the knowledge of God. Men learn by what they see far more readily\nthan by what they hear, and all that Christ taught by word of mouth\nmight have gone for little had it not been sealed on men's minds by\nthese consistent acts of love. To tell men that God loves them may or\nmay not impress them, may or may not be believed; but when Jesus\ndeclared that He was sent by God, and preached His gospel by giving\nsight to the blind, legs to the lame, health to the hopeless, that was a\nform of preaching likely to be effectual. And when these miracles were\nsustained by a consistent holiness in Him who worked them; when it was\nfelt that there was nothing ostentatious, nothing self-seeking, nothing\nthat appealed to mere vulgar wonder in them, but that they were dictated\nsolely by love,--when it was found that they were thus a true expression\nof the character of Him who worked them, and that that character was one\nin which human judgment at least could find no stain, is it surprising\nthat He should have been recognised as God's true representative?\n\nSupposing, then, that Christ came to earth to teach men the fatherhood\nand fatherliness of God--could He have more effectually taught it than\nby these miracles of healing? Supposing He wished to lodge in the minds\nof men the conviction that man, body and soul, was cared for by God;\nthat the diseased, the helpless, the wretched were valued by Him,--were\nnot these works of healing the most effectual means of making this\nrevelation? Have not these works of healing in point of fact proved the\nmost efficient lessons in those great truths which form the very\nsubstance of Christianity? The miracles are themselves, then, the\nrevelation, and carry to the minds of men more directly than any words\nor arguments the conception of a loving God, who does not abhor the\naffliction of the afflicted, but feels with His creatures and seeks\ntheir welfare.\n\nAnd, as John is careful throughout his Gospel to show, they suggest even\nmore than they directly teach. John uniformly calls them \"signs,\" and on\nmore than one occasion explains what they were signs of. He that loved\nmen so keenly and so truly could not be satisfied with the bodily relief\nHe gave to a few. The power He wielded over disease and over nature\nseemed to hint at a power supreme in all departments. If He gave sight\nto the blind, was He not also the light of the world? If He fed the\nhungry, was He not Himself the bread which came down from heaven?\n\nThe miracles, then, are evidences that Christ is the revealer of the\nFather, because they do reveal the Father. As the rays of the sun are\nevidences of the sun's existence and heat, so are the miracles evidences\nthat God was in Christ. As the natural and unstudied actions of a man\nare the best evidences of his character; as almsgiving that is not meant\nto disclose a charitable spirit, but for the relief of the poor, is\nevidence of charity; as irrepressible wit, and not clever sayings\nstudied for effect, is the best evidence of wit--so these miracles,\nthough not wrought for the sake of proving Christ's union with the\nFather, but for the sake of men, do most effectually prove that He was\none with the Father. Their evidence is all the stronger because it was\nnot their primary object.\n\nBut for us the question remains, What has this Gospel and its careful\npicture of Christ's character and work done for us? Are we to close the\nGospel and shut away from us this great revelation of Divine love as a\nthing in which we claim no personal share? This exhibition of all that\nis tender and pure, touching and hopeful, in human life--are we to look\nat it and pass on as if we had been admiring a picture and not looking\ninto the very heart of all that is eternally real? This accessibility of\nGod, this sympathy with our human lot, this undertaking of our burdens,\nthis bidding us be of good cheer--is it all to pass by us as needless\nfor us? The presence that shines from these pages, the voice that sounds\nso differently from all other voices--are we to turn from these? Is all\nthat God can do to attract us to be in vain? Is the vision of God's\nholiness and love to be without effect? In the midst of all other\nhistory, in the tumult of this world's ambitions and contendings,\nthrough the fog of men's fancies and theories, shines this clear,\nguiding light: are we to go on as if we had never seen it? Here we are\nbrought into contact with the truth, with what is real and abiding in\nhuman affairs; here we come into contact with God, and can for a little\nlook at things as He sees them: are we, then, to write ourselves fools\nand blind by turning away as if we needed no such light--by saying, \"We\nsee, and need not be taught?\"\n\n\n_Printed by Hazell Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._\n\n\n\n\nTHE EXPOSITOR'S BIBLE.\n\nEDITED BY THE REV. W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D.\n\n_Crown 8vo, cloth, price 7s. 6d. each vol._\n\n\n    FIRST SERIES, 1887-88.\n\n    Colossians.\n      By A. MACLAREN, D.D.\n\n    St. Mark.\n      By Very Rev. the Dean of Armagh.\n\n    Genesis.\n      By Prof. MARCUS DODS, D.D.\n\n    1 Samuel.\n      By Prof. W. G. BLAIKIE, D.D.\n\n    2 Samuel.\n      By the same Author.\n\n    Hebrews.\n      By Principal T. C. EDWARDS, D.D.\n\n\n    SECOND SERIES, 1888-89.\n\n    Galatians.\n      By Prof. G. G. FINDLAY, B.A.\n\n    The Pastoral Epistles.\n      By Rev. A. PLUMMER, D.D.\n\n    Isaiah I.--XXXIX.\n      By G. A. SMITH, M.A. Vol. I.\n\n    The Book of Revelation.\n      By Prof. W. MILLIGAN, D.D.\n\n    1 Corinthians.\n      By Prof. MARCUS DODS, D.D.\n\n    The Epistles of St. John.\n      By Rt. Rev. W. ALEXANDER, D.D.\n\n\n    THIRD SERIES, 1889-90.\n\n    Judges and Ruth.\n      By Rev. R. A. WATSON, D.D.\n\n    Jeremiah.\n      By Rev. C. J. BALL, M.A.\n\n    Isaiah XL.--LXVI.\n      By G. A. SMITH, M.A. Vol. II.\n\n    St. Matthew.\n      By Rev. J. MONRO GIBSON, D.D.\n\n    Exodus.\n      By Very Rev. the Dean of Armagh.\n\n    St. Luke.\n      By Rev. H. BURTON, B.A.\n\n\n    FOURTH SERIES, 1890-91.\n\n    Ecclesiastes.\n      By Rev. SAMUEL COX, D.D.\n\n    St. James and St. Jude.\n      By Rev. A. PLUMMER, D.D.\n\n    Proverbs.\n      By Rev. R. F. HORTON, M.A.\n\n    Leviticus.\n      By Rev. S. H. KELLOGG, D.D.\n\n    The Gospel of St. John.\n      By Prof. M. DODS, D.D. Vol. I.\n\n    The Acts of the Apostles.\n      By Prof. STOKES, D.D. Vol. I.\n\n\n    FIFTH SERIES, 1891-92.\n\n    The Psalms.\n      By A. MACLAREN, D.D. Vol. I.\n\n    1 and 2 Thessalonians.\n      By JAS. DENNEY, B.D.\n\n    The Book of Job.\n      By R. A. WATSON, D.D.\n\n    Ephesians.\n      By Prof. G. G. FINDLAY, B.A.\n\n    The Gospel of St. John.\n      By Prof. M. DODS, D.D. Vol. II.\n\n    The Acts of the Apostles.\n      By Prof. STOKES, D.D. Vol. II.\n\n\nLONDON: HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n\n\n\n_WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR._\n\n\nTHE BOOK OF GENESIS. Fifth Edition. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.\n\nTHE GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN. Vol. I. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.\n\nTHE FIRST EPISTLE TO THE CORINTHIANS. Third Edition. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d.\n\nAN INTRODUCTION TO THE NEW TESTAMENT. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.\n\nTHE PARABLES OF OUR LORD. (Matthew.) Seventh Thousand. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.\n\nTHE PARABLES OF OUR LORD. Second Series. (Luke.) Sixth Thousand. 3s. 6d.\n\nTHE PRAYER THAT TEACHES TO PRAY. Seventh Edition. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d.\n\nISAAC, JACOB, AND JOSEPH. Sixth Thousand. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.\n\nISRAEL'S IRON AGE: Sketches from the Period of the Judges. Sixth Edition.\nCrown 8vo, 3s. 6d.\n\nMOHAMMED, BUDDHA, AND CHRIST. Sixth Thousand. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.\n\nERASMUS AND OTHER ESSAYS. Second Edition, Crown 8vo, 5s.\n\n\nLONDON: HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.\n\n\n\n\n_WORKS BY THE_ REV. MARCUS DODS, D.D.\n\n\nTHE BOOK OF GENESIS.\n\n_Fifth Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, price 7s. 6d._\n\n    \"The execution of this (_Expositor's Bible_) series has been\n    excellent. Dean Chadwick's treatment of the Gospel of St. Mark is in\n    almost perfect proportion, happy in style, just and reasonable in\n    temper, and full of helpful and suggestive thinking. The Colossians\n    and Philemon, by Dr. Maclaren, finely illustrate those subtle,\n    spiritual gifts of intellect and imagination that have made him the\n    favourite teacher of so many earnest and devout readers. In the Book\n    of Genesis a much more difficult and thorny piece of work fell to\n    the lot of Dr. Marcus Dods. There are at the present moment peculiar\n    difficulties in the treatment of those early chapters of Bible\n    story. The minds of general readers are hesitating between the old\n    literal and somewhat secular interpretation of the narrative, and\n    the new, more scientific, but not always more ideal and spiritual\n    reading of the record. That a settlement of the problem is possible,\n    and indeed not far off, is the conviction of many who have most\n    thoroughly studied the course and meaning of current thought; and\n    they do not doubt that the result will be to restore to us, in the\n    prelude of the history of redemption, everything the heart of faith\n    needs and loves, perchance in a purer and nobler form. Dr. Dods has\n    a steady head, a practised hand, and a determined will. With\n    admirable address he has steered his way between the shoals and\n    rocks of preliminary questions, and has brought safely to port his\n    rich cargo of exposition, the produce of many an arduous voyage of\n    discovery and research.\"--_Rev. Prof. W. G. Elmslie, D.D._\n\n\nTHE FIRST EPISTLE TO THE CORINTHIANS.\n\n_Third Edition. Crown 8vo, price 7s. 6d._\n\n    \"He shows himself to be thoroughly at home with his subject, and\n    that his exposition is clear, intelligent, and characterised by a\n    sobriety of judgment, a candour, and a sweet reasonableness which\n    are worthy of all praise, is only what might be expected from a\n    writer of Dr. Dods' well-known abilities and culture.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n    \"The most varied of Paul's Epistles demands in its expositor a\n    combination of qualities which is very rarely met with. He who would\n    read it aright from beginning to end must be theologian, casuist,\n    and historian all in one; he must be equally at home in the ancient\n    and the modern Church, in ancient and in modern life. There is\n    probably no man living in whom these characters are more at one than\n    Dr. Dods; and though the student of exegesis may sometimes look in\n    this book for what he will not find, the practical expositor will\n    recognise in it a model of what his work should be.\"--_British\n    Weekly._\n\n\nTHE GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN.\n\nIN TWO VOLUMES.\n\n_Crown 8vo, cloth, price 7s. 6d. each._\n\n    \"An excellent contribution to the series (_Expositor's Bible_). Dr.\n    Dods appears to us always to write with clearness and with vigour.\n    He has the gift of lucidity of expression, and by means of apt\n    illustrations he avoids the cardinal sin of dryness, so that the\n    interest, even of the general reader, will not flag as he smoothly\n    glides through these chapters.\"--_Guardian._\n\n\nERASMUS AND OTHER ESSAYS.\n\n_Second Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, price 5s._\n\n    \"Professor Marcus Dods is a theologian, and much more. The essays in\n    this volume show him, not for the first time, as a man of much\n    reading, of broad and genial sympathies, refined but liberal\n    judgment, possessed of no little literary culture, and keenly\n    appreciative of literary and mental power in other men even when\n    they do not happen to belong to his own school. They have all more\n    or less permanent value. They are good literature, and make a book\n    worth having and reading.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\nAN INTRODUCTION TO THE NEW TESTAMENT.\n\n_Fourth Edition. Fcap. 8vo, price 2s. 6d._\n\n    \"The compiler has placed in the hands of ordinary readers the\n    results of the latest scholarship respecting the authorship,\n    genuineness, date and place of writing, and circumstances attending\n    the production of all the books of the New Testament. The work is\n    very well done indeed.\"--_English Churchman._\n\n    \"When we compare it with even the best of the extant volumes on the\n    same subject, we are bound to acknowledge that Dr. Dods has\n    compressed into the 247 pages of this little book more than is to be\n    found in much bulkier works.\"--_Christian Leader._\n\n    \"It contains an admirable, brief statement of the conclusions\n    arrived at concerning the books of the New Testament, after the most\n    recent and careful investigations of modern scholars. Dr. Marcus\n    Dods has packed away an immense amount of information in very small\n    space.\"--_Methodist Recorder._\n\n    \"A more admirable manual we could not conceive. The student will\n    here find great riches in little room.\"--_Baptist Magazine._\n\n    \"Dr. Dods has earned the gratitude of Biblical students by the\n    preparation of this work. It is an invaluable manual, so compact in\n    form and so concise in matter as to render it specially suitable for\n    use in public schools and colleges as a preparation for the study of\n    larger works when time permits. Let any young minister master this\n    portable volume, and he will be well furnished indeed.\"--_Methodist\n    New Connexion Magazine._\n\n\nTHE PARABLES OF OUR LORD.\n\nAs Recorded by St. Matthew.\n\n_Seventh Thousand. Price 3s. 6d._\n\n    \"Unfolded with a lucidity which ought to satisfy even Mr. Matthew\n    Arnold. The crisp, pointed, and graphic style of Dr. Dods is in\n    harmony with the keen and spiritual insight which marks him out as a\n    prince among the living expositors of the sacred\n    writings.\"--_Christian Leader._\n\n    \"No thoughtful reader could rise from its perusal without being\n    imbued with holier feelings and actuated by sublimer aspirations\n    than when he took the book up.\"--_Liverpool Post._\n\n    \"Eminently popular in style and practical in aim.\"--_Christian._\n\n    \"Marked alike by careful language and sober thought.\"--_Guardian._\n\n    \"Intelligent, reverent, and spiritual, marked by much literary\n    beauty, and will be read by both learned and simple.\"--_British\n    Quarterly._\n\n    \"An interesting contribution to a most important\n    subject.\"--_Presbyterian Churchman._\n\n\nTHE PARABLES OF OUR LORD.\n\nSecond Series. Parables Recorded by St. Luke.\n\n_Sixth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d._\n\n    \"Dr. Dods is a model for all expositors. He is lucid, reverent, and\n    suggestive. Though his style is usually somewhat austere, it\n    frequently blossoms into rare beauty and tenderness.\"--_Sheffield\n    Independent._\n\n    \"He offers an original exposition, marked by strong common sense and\n    practical exhortation. He not only makes the circumstances of the\n    parable stand distinctly before the reader, introduces him into the\n    circle that heard it, and shows distinctly how it affected the\n    bystanders, but he also applies it skilfully to the conduct and\n    practices, the views and feelings, of the men of our day, and drives\n    its lesson home to their very hearts. This gives a great value to\n    the work.\"--_Literary Churchman._\n\n\nTHE PRAYER THAT TEACHES TO PRAY.\n\n_Seventh Edition. Crown 8vo, price 2s. 6d._\n\n    \"It is highly instructive, singularly lucid, and unmistakably for\n    quiet personal use.\"--_Clergyman's Magazine._\n\n    \"It is very rarely that so much solid exposition can be found\n    compressed into so small a space. Soundly evangelical, the lectures\n    are at the same time luminous, refined, and practical, abounding not\n    only in fine glimpses of spiritual intuition, but also in keen\n    analysis of human character, and its sources and motives of\n    action.\"--_Freeman._\n\n    \"A work so simple in style and in structure, breathing at every\n    point the spirit of the Master, can hardly fail to find acceptance,\n    and is eminently fitted to be at once edifying and\n    elevating.\"--_Scotsman._\n\n\nISAAC, JACOB, AND JOSEPH\n\n_Sixth Thousand. Price 3s. 6d._\n\n    \"The present volume is worthy of the writer's reputation. He deals\n    with the problems of human life and character which these\n    biographies suggest in a candid and manly fashion, and where he\n    discovers a spiritual significance in them his course is always\n    marked by sobriety and caution, yet he is not wanting in fervour and\n    earnestness.\"--_Spectator._\n\n    \"We commend this volume to our readers as a model of popular\n    exposition.... For insight into the depths of the character\n    portrayed, an insight which amounts to _intimacy_, we have not for\n    many a day found any work superior to this.\"--_Baptist._\n\n    \"Dr. Dods has the double qualifications for writing biography. He is\n    at once a student of books and a student of life. For reality\n    therefore, for freshness, for penetration, for insight into\n    character, these chapters are incomparable, and for the purposes of\n    'Household Exposition' we can conceive of no healthier form of\n    literature coming into our families.\"--_Christian._\n\n\nISRAEL'S IRON AGE:\n\nSketches from the Period of the Judges.\n\n_Sixth Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d._\n\n    \"The popularity of this volume is richly deserved. The sketches are\n    bright and forcible, and abound in moral teaching and practical\n    lessons for the golden age of Victoria as well as for the iron age\n    of Israel.\"--_Evangelical Magazine._\n\n    \"Powerful lectures. This is a noble volume, full of strength. Young\n    men especially will find in it a rich storehouse of prevailing\n    incentive to a godly life. Dr. Dods searches with a masterly\n    hand.\"--_Nonconformist._\n\n    \"The characters are vividly and truthfully drawn, and many practical\n    lessons in daily life are enforced from their virtues and\n    vices.\"--_Standard._\n\n\nMOHAMMED, BUDDHA, AND CHRIST.\n\n_Sixth Thousand. Crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d._\n\n    \"Four lectures by one of the most mature, competent, and able\n    theologians of the sister Church of Scotland. The book closes with\n    an essay on Christianity which is not only of much interest, but\n    full of thought and reverent Christian speculation. The last paper,\n    indeed, is a decided contribution to comparative theology, and as a\n    summary of the leading points on which the science of comparative\n    religion may be said to turn is of permanent usefulness and\n    worth.\"--_Christian._\n\n    \"Its general truth few reflecting Christians will doubt, and its\n    elevating tendency nobody, Christian or unbeliever, will deny. To us\n    this book is specially welcome, as an evidence, in addition to many\n    others, of a new outburst of earnest religious thought and\n    sentiment.\"--_Spectator._\n\n\nLONDON: HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.","title":"The Expositor's Bible: The Gospel of St. John, Vol. II","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":118354}