{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8071/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8071","id":"gutenberg_8071","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8071","summary":null,"tags":["Bible. Mark -- Commentaries","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christianity"],"text":"Produced by Tiffany Vergon, Dave Maddock and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE\n\nST. MARK\n\nALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nWHAT 'THE GOSPEL' IS (Mark i. 1)\n\nTHE STRONG FORERUNNER AND THE STRONGER SON (Mark i. 1-11)\n\nMIGHTY IN WORD AND DEED (Mark i. 21-34)\n\nHEALING AND SERVICE (Mark i. 30, 31, R.V.)\n\nA PARABLE IN A MIRACLE (Mark i. 40-42)\n\nCHRIST'S TOUCH (Mark i. 41)\n\nCHRIST'S AUTHORITY TO FORGIVE (Mark ii. 1-12)\n\nTHE PUBLICANS' FRIEND (Mark ii. 13-22)\n\nTHE SECRET OF GLADNESS (Mark ii. 19)\n\nWORKS WHICH HALLOW THE SABBATH (Mark ii. 23-28; iii. 1-5)\n\nTHE ANGER AND GRIEF OF JESUS (Mark iii. 5)\n\nAMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST (Mark iii. 6-19)\n\n'HE IS BESIDE HIMSELF' (Mark iii. 21)\n\nTHE MISTAKES OF CHRIST'S FOES AND FRIENDS (Mark iii. 22-35)\n\nCHRIST'S KINDRED (Mark iii. 31-35)\n\nCHRIST'S RELATIONS (Mark iii. 35)\n\nFOUR SOILS FOR ONE SEED (Mark iv. 10-20)\n\nLAMPS AND BUSHELS (Mark iv. 21)\n\nTHE STORM STILLED (Mark iv. 35-41)\n\nTHE TOILING CHRIST (Mark iv. 36, 38)\n\nTHE LORD OF DEMONS (Mark v. 1-20)\n\nA REFUSED REQUEST (Mark v. 18,19)\n\nTALITHA CUMI (Mark v. 22-24, 35-43)\n\nTHE POWER OF FEEBLE FAITH (Mark v. 25, 27, 28)\n\nTOUCH OR FAITH? (Mark v. 28, 34)\n\nTHE LOOKS OF JESUS (Mark v. 32)\n\nTHE MASTER REJECTED: THE SERVANTS SENT FORTH (Mark vi. 1-13)\n\nCHRIST THWARTED (Mark vi. 5, 6)\n\nHEROD--A STARTLED CONSCIENCE (Mark vi. 16)\n\nTHE MARTYRDOM OF JOHN (Mark vi. 17-28)\n\nTHE WORLD'S BREAD (Mark vi. 30-44)\n\nCHILDREN AND LITTLE DOGS (Mark vii. 24-30)\n\nTHE PATTERN OF SERVICE (Mark vii. 33, 34)\n\nTHE PATIENT TEACHER AND THE SLOW SCHOLARS (Mark viii. 17, 18)\n\nTHE RELIGIOUS USES OF MEMORY (Mark viii. 18)\n\nTHE GRADUAL HEALING OF THE BLIND MAN (Mark viii. 22-25)\n\nCHRIST'S CROSS, AND OURS (Mark viii. 27--ix. 1)\n\nTHE TRANSFIGURATION (Mark ix. 2-13)\n\n'THIS IS MY BELOVED SON: HEAR HIM' (Mark ix. 7)\n\nJESUS ONLY (Mark ix. 8)\n\nCHRIST'S LAMENT OVER OUR FAITHLESSNESS (Mark ix. 19)\n\nTHE OMNIPOTENCE OF FAITH (Mark ix. 23)\n\nUNBELIEVING BELIEF (Mark ix. 24)\n\nRECEIVING AND FORBIDDING (Mark ix. 33-42)\n\nAN UNANSWERED QUESTION (Mark ix. 33)\n\nSALTED WITH FIRE (Mark ix. 49)\n\n'SALT IN YOURSELVES' (Mark ix. 50)\n\nCHILDREN AND CHILDLIKE MEN (Mark x. 13-15)\n\nALMOST A DISCIPLE. (Mark x. 17-27)\n\nCHRIST ON THE ROAD TO THE CROSS (Mark x.32)\n\nDIGNITY AND SERVICE (Mark x. 35-45)\n\nBARTIMAEUS (Mark x. 46)\n\nAN EAGER COMING (Mark x. 50)\n\nLOVE'S QUESTION (Mark x. 51; Acts ix. 6)\n\nA ROYAL PROGRESS (Mark xi. 2)\n\nCHRIST'S NEED OF US AND OURS (Mark xi. 3)\n\nNOTHING BUT LEAVES (Mark xi. 13, 14)\n\nDISHONEST TENANTS (Mark xii. 1-12)\n\nGOD'S LAST ARROW (Mark xii. 6)\n\nNOT FAR AND NOT IN (Mark xii. 34)\n\nTHE CREDULITY OF UNBELIEF (Mark xiii. 6; Luke xviii, 8)\n\nAUTHORITY AND WORK (Mark xiii. 34)\n\nTHE ALABASTER BOX (Mark xiv. 6-9)\n\nA SECRET RENDEZVOUS (Mark xiv. 12-16)\n\nTHE NEW PASSOVER (Mark xiv. 12-26)\n\n'Is IT I?' (Mark xiv. 19)\n\n'STRONG CRYING AND TEARS' (Mark xiv. 32-42)\n\nTHE SLEEPING APOSTLE (Mark xiv. 37)\n\nTHE CAPTIVE CHRIST AND THE CIRCLE ROUND HIM (Mark xiv. 43-54)\n\nTHE CONDEMNATION WHICH CONDEMNS THE JUDGES (Mark xiv. 55-65)\n\nCHRIST AND PILATE; THE TRUE KING AND HIS COUNTERFEIT (Mark xv. 1-20)\n\nTHE DEATH WHICH GIVES LIFE (Mark xv. 21-39)\n\nSIMON THE CYRENIAN (Mark xv. 21)\n\nTHE INCREDULOUS DISCIPLES (Mark xvi. 1-13)\n\nPERPETUAL YOUTH (Mark xvi. 5)\n\nTHE FIRST PREACHING OF THE RESURRECTION (Mark xvi. 5, 6)\n\nLOVE'S TRIUMPH OVER SIN (Mark xvi. 7)\n\n'FIRST TO MARY' (Mark xvi. 9)\n\nTHE WORLD-WIDE COMMISSION (Mark xvi. 15)\n\nTHE ENTHRONED CHRIST (Mark xvi. 19)\n\n\n\n\nWHAT 'THE GOSPEL' IS\n\n\nThe beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ.--Mark i. 1\n\nMy purpose now is to point out some of the various connections in\nwhich the New Testament uses that familiar phrase, 'the gospel,' and\nbriefly to gather some of the important thoughts which these suggest.\nPossibly the process may help to restore freshness to a word so well\nworn that it slips over our tongues almost unnoticed and excites\nlittle thought.\n\nThe history of the word in the New Testament books is worth notice. It\nseldom occurs in those lives of our Lord which now are emphatically so\ncalled, and where it does occur, it is 'the gospel of the Kingdom'\nquite as frequently as 'the gospel' of the King. The word is never\nused in Luke, and only twice in the Acts of the Apostles, both times\nin quotations. The Apostle John never employs it, either in his\n'gospel' or in his epistles, and in the Apocalypse the word is only\nonce found, and then it may be a question whether it refers to the\ngood news of salvation in Jesus Christ. John thought of the word which\nhe had to proclaim as 'the message,' 'the witness,' 'the truth,'\nrather than as 'the gospel.' We search for the expression in vain in\nthe epistles of James, Jude, and to the Hebrews. Thrice it is used by\nPeter. The great bulk of the instances of its occurrence are in the\nwritings of Paul, who, if not the first to use it, at any rate is the\nsource from which the familiar meaning of the phrase, as describing\nthe sum total of the revelation in Jesus Christ, has flowed.\n\nThe various connections in which the word is employed are remarkable\nand instructive. We can but touch lightly on the more important\nlessons which they are fitted to teach.\n\nI. The Gospel is the 'Gospel of Christ.'\n\nOn our Lord's own lips and in the records of His life we find, as has\nalready been noticed, the phrase, 'the gospel of the kingdom'--the\ngood news of the establishment on earth of the rule of God in the\nhearts and lives of men. The person of the King is not yet defined by\nit. The diffused dawn floods the sky, and upon them that sit in\ndarkness the greatness of its light shines, before the sun is above\nthe horizon. The message of the Forerunner proclaimed, like a herald's\nclarion, the coming of the Kingdom, before he could say to a more\nreceptive few, 'Behold the Lamb of God.' The order is first the\nmessage of the Kingdom, then the discovery of the King. And so that\nearlier phrase falls out of use, and when once Christ's life had been\nlived, and His death died, the gospel is no longer the message of an\nimpersonal revolution in the world's attitude to God's will, but the\nbiography of Him who is at once first subject and monarch of the\nKingdom of Heaven, and by whom alone we are brought into it. The\nstanding expression comes to be 'the gospel of Christ.'\n\nIt is His, not so much because He is the author, as because He is the\nsubject of it. It is the good news about Christ. He is its contents\nand great theme. And so we are led up at once to the great central\npeculiarity of Christianity, namely that it is a record of historical\nfact, and that all the world's life and blessedness lie in the story\nof a human life and death. Christ is Christianity. His biography is\nthe good news for every child of man.\n\nNeither a philosophy nor a morality, but a history, is the true good\nnews for men. The world is hungry, and when it cries for bread wise\nmen give it a stone, but God gives it the fare it needs in the bread\nthat comes down from Heaven. Though it be of small account in many\npeople's eyes, like the common barley cakes, the poor man's food, it\nis what we all need; and humble people, and simple people, and\nuneducated people, and barbarous people, and dying people, and the\nlittle children can all eat and live. They would find little to keep\nthem from starving in anything more ambitious, and would only break\ntheir teeth in mumbling the dry bones of philosophies and moralities.\nBut the story of their Brother who has lived and died for them feeds\nheart and mind and will, fancy and imagination, memory and hope,\nnourishes the whole nature into health and beauty, and alone deserves\nto be called good news for men.\n\nAll that the world needs lies in that story. Out of it have come peace\nand gladness to the soul, light for the understanding, cleansing for\nthe conscience, renovation for the will, which can be made strong and\nfree by submission, a resting-place for the heart, and a\nstarting-point and a goal for the loftiest flights of hope. Out of it\nhave come the purifying of family and civic life, the culture of all\nnoble social virtues, the sanctity of the household, and the elevation\nof the state. The thinker has found the largest problems raised and\nsolved therein. The setting forth of a loftier morality, and the\nenthusiasm which makes the foulest nature aspire to and reach its\nheaven-touching heights, are found together there. To it poet and\npainter, architect and musician, owe their noblest themes. The good\nnews of the world is the story of Christ's life and death. Let us be\nthankful for its form; let us be thankful for its substance.\n\nBut we must not forget that, as Paul, who is so fond of the word, has\ntaught us, the historical fact needs some explanation and commentary\nto make the history a gospel. He has declared to us 'the gospel which\nhe preached,' and to which he ascribes saving power, and he gives\nthese as its elements, 'How that Christ died for our sins, according\nto the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the\nthird day, according to the Scriptures.' There are three facts--death,\nburial, resurrection. These are the things that any eye could have\nseen. Are these the gospel? Is there any saving power in them? Not\nunless you add the commentary 'for our sins,' and 'according to the\nScriptures.' That death was a death for us all, by which we are\ndelivered from our sins--that is the main thing; and in subordination\nto that thought, the other that Christ's death was the accomplishment\nof prophecies--these make the history a gospel. The bare facts,\nwithout the exhibition of their purpose and meaning, are no more a\ngospel than any other story of a death would be. The facts with any\nlower explanation of their meaning are no gospel, any more than the\nstory of the death of Socrates or any innocent martyr would be. If you\nwould know the good news that will lift your heavy heart from sorrow\nand break your chains of sin, that will put music into your life and\nmake your days blaze into brightness as when the sunlight strikes some\nsullen mountain-side that lay black in shadow, you must take the fact\nwith its meaning, and find your gospel in the life and death of Him\nwho is more than example and more than martyr. 'How that Christ died\nfor our sins, according to the Scriptures,' is 'the gospel of Christ.'\n\nII. The Gospel of Christ is the 'Gospel of God.'\n\nThis form of the expression, though by no means so frequent as the\nother, is found throughout Paul's epistles, thrice in the\nearliest--Thessalonians (1 Thess. ii. 8), once in the great Epistle to\nthe Romans (i. 1), once in Corinthians (2 Cor. xi. 7), and once in a\nmodified form in the pathetic letter from the dungeon, which the old\nman addressed to his 'son Timothy' (1 Tim. i. 11). It is also found in\nthe writings of Peter (1 Pet. iv. 17). In all these cases the phrase,\n'the gospel of God,' may mean the gospel which has God for its author\nor origin, but it seems rather to mean 'which has God for its\nsubject.'\n\nIt was, as we saw, mainly designated as the good news about Jesus\nChrist, but it is also the good news about God. So in one and the same\nset of facts we have the history of Jesus and the revelation of God.\nThey are not only the biography of a man, but they are the unveiling\nof the heart of God. These Scripture writers take it for granted that\ntheir readers will understand that paradox, and do not stop to explain\nhow they change the statement of the subject matter of their message,\nin this extraordinary fashion, between their Master who had lived and\ndied on earth, and the Unseen Almightiness throned above all heavens.\nHow comes that to be?\n\nIt is not that the gospel has two subjects, one of which is the matter\nof one portion, and the other of another. It does not sometimes speak\nof Christ, and sometimes rise to tell us of God. It is always speaking\nof both, and when its subject is most exclusively the man Christ\nJesus, it is then most chiefly the Father God. How comes that to be?\n\nSurely this unconscious shifting of the statement of their theme,\nwhich these writers practise as a matter of course, shows us how\ndeeply the conviction had stamped itself on their spirits, 'He that\nhath seen Me hath seen the Father,' and how the point of view from\nwhich they had learned to look on all the sweet and wondrous story of\ntheir Master's life and death, was that of a revelation of the deepest\nheart of God.\n\nAnd so must we look on that whole career, from the cradle to the\ncross, from Calvary to Olivet, if we are to know its deepest\ntenderness and catch its gladdest notes. That such a man has lived and\ndied is beautiful, and the portrait will hang for ever as that of the\nfairest of the children of men. But that in that life and death we\nhave our most authentic knowledge of what God is, and that all the\npity and truth, the gentleness and the brotherliness, the tears and\nthe self-surrender, are a revelation to us of God; and that the cross,\nwith its awful sorrow and its painful death, tells us not only how a\nman gave himself for those whom he loved, but how God loves the world\nand how tremendous is His law--this is good news of God indeed. We\nhave to look for our truest knowledge of Him not in the majesties of\nthe starry heavens, nor in the depths of our own souls, not in the\nscattered tokens of His character given by the perplexed order of the\nworld, nor in the intuitions of the wise, but in the life and death of\nHis Son, whose tears are the pity of God as well as the compassion of\na man, and in whose life and death the whole world may behold 'the\nbrightness of His glory and the express image of His person,' and be\ndelivered from all their fears of an angry, and all their doubts of an\nunknown, God.\n\nThere is a double modification of this phrase. We hear of 'the gospel\nof the grace of God' and 'the gospel of the glory of God,' which\nlatter expression, rendered in the English version misleadingly 'the\nglorious gospel,' is given in its true shape in the Revised Version.\nThe great theme of the message is further defined in these two\nnoteworthy forms. It is the tender love of God in exercise to lowly\ncreatures who deserve something else that the gospel is busy in\nsetting forth, a love which flows forth unbought and unmotived save by\nitself, like some stream from a hidden lake high up among the pure\nAlpine snows. The story of Christ's work is the story of God's rich,\nunmerited love, bending down to creatures far beneath, and making a\nradiant pathway from earth to heaven, like the sevenfold rainbow. It\nis so, not merely because this mission is the result of God's love,\nbut also because His grace is God's grace, and therefore every act of\nChrist which speaks His own tenderness is therein an apocalypse of\nGod.\n\nThe second of these two expressions, 'the gospel of the glory of God,'\nleads up to that great thought that the true glory of the divine\nnature is its tenderness. The lowliness and death of Christ are the\nglory of God! Not in the awful attributes which separate that\ninconceivable Nature from us, not in the eternity of His existence,\nnor in the Infinitude of His Being, not in the Omnipotence of His\nunwearied arm, nor in fire-eyed Omniscience, but in the pity and\ngraciousness which bend lovingly over us, is the true glory of God.\nThese pompous 'attributes' are but the fringes of the brightness, the\nliving white heart of which is love. God's glory is God's grace, and\nthe purest expression of both is found there, where Jesus hangs dying\nin the dark, The true throne of God's glory is not builded high in a\nremote heaven, flashing intolerable brightness and set about with\nbending principalities and powers, but it is the Cross of Calvary. The\nstory of the 'grace of our Lord Jesus Christ,' with its humiliation\nand shame, is the 'gospel of the grace,' and therefore is the 'gospel\nof the glory, of God.'\n\nIII. The good news of Christ and of God is the gospel of our salvation\nand peace.\n\nWe read of 'the gospel of your salvation' (Eph. i. 13), and in the\nsame letter (vi. 15) of 'the gospel of peace.' In these expressions we\npass from the consideration of the author or of the subject matter of\nthe good news to that of its purpose and issue. It is meant to bring\nto men, and it does in fact bring to all who accept it, those wide and\ncomplex blessings described by those two great words.\n\nThat good news about Christ and God brings to a man salvation, if he\nbelieves it. To know and feel that I have a loving Father who has so\ncared for me and all my brethren that He has sent His Son to live and\ndie for me, is surely enough to deliver me from all the bonds and\ndeath of sin, and to quicken me into humble consecration to His\nservice. And such emancipation from the burden and misery of sin, from\nthe gnawing consciousness of evil and the weakening sense of guilt,\nfrom the dominion of wrong tastes and habits, and from the despair of\never shaking them off which is only too well grounded in the\nexperience of the past, is the beginning of salvation for each of us.\nThat great keyword of the New Testament covers the whole field of\npositive and negative good which man can need or God can give.\nNegatively it includes the removal of every evil, whether of the\nnature of sorrow or of sin, under which men can groan. Positively it\nincludes the endowment with all good, whether of the nature of joy or\nof purity, which men can hope for or receive. It is past, present, and\nfuture, for every heart that accepts 'the word of the truth of the\ngospel'--past, inasmuch as the first effect of even the most\nincomplete acceptance is to put us in a new position and attitude\ntowards the law of God, and to plant the germs of all holiness and joy\nin our souls; present, inasmuch as salvation is a growing possession\nand a continuous process running on all through our lives, if we be\ntrue to ourselves and our calling; future, inasmuch as its completion\nwaits to be unveiled in another order of things, where perfect purity\nand perfect consecration shall issue in perfect joy. And all this\nennobling and enriching of human nature is produced by that good news\nabout the grace and glory of God and of Christ, if we will only listen\nto it, and let it work its work on our souls.\n\nSubstantially the same set of facts is included under that other\nexpression, 'the gospel of peace.' The Hebrew use of the word 'peace'\nas a kind of shorthand for all good is probably to be remembered. But\neven in the narrower sense of the word, how great are the blessings\nset forth by it! All inward serenity and outward calm, the\ntranquillity of a soul free from the agitations of emotion and the\nstorms of passions and the tumults of desire, as well as the security\nof a life guarded from the assaults of foes and girded about with an\nimpregnable barrier which nothing can destroy and no enemy overleap,\nare ours, if we take the good news about God to our heart. They are\nours in the measure in which we take it. Clearly such truths as those\nwhich the gospel brings have a plain tendency to give peace. They give\npeace with God, with the world, and with ourselves. They lead to\ntrust, and trust is peace. They lead to union with God, and that is\npeace. They lead to submission, and that is peace. They lead to\nconsecration, and that is peace. They lead to indifference to fleeting\njoys and treasures, and that is peace. They give to heart and mind and\nwill an all-sufficient and infinite object, and that is peace. They\ndeliver us from ourselves, and that is peace. They fill the past, the\npresent, and the future with the loving Father's presence, and\nbrighten life and death with the Saviour's footsteps--and so to live\nis calm, and to die is to lay ourselves down in peace and sleep, quiet\nby His side, like a child by its mother. The good news about God and\nChrist is the good news of our salvation and of our peace.\n\nIV. The good news about Christ and God is _the_ gospel.\n\nBy far the most frequent form in which the word gospel occurs is that\nof the simple use of the noun with the definite article. This message\nis emphatically _the_ good news. It is the tidings which men most of\nall want. It stands alone; there is no other like it. If this be not\nthe glad tidings of great joy for the world, then there are none.\n\nLet no false liberality lead us to lose sight of the exclusive claims\nwhich are made in this phrase for the set of facts the narrative of\nwhich constitutes 'the gospel.' The life and death of Jesus Christ for\nthe sins of the world, His resurrection and continuous life for the\nsaving of the world--these are the truths, without which there can be\nno gospel. They may be apprehended in different ways, set forth in\ndifferent perspective, proclaimed in different dialects, explained in\ndifferent fashion, associated with different accompaniments, drawn out\ninto different consequences, and yet, through all diversity of tones,\nthe message may be one. Sounded on a ram's horn or a silver trumpet,\nit may be the same saving and joy-bringing proclamation, and it will\nbe, if Christ and His life and death are plainly set forth as the\nbeginning and ending of all. But if there be an omission of that\nmighty name, or if a Christ be proclaimed without a Cross, a salvation\nwithout a Saviour, or a Saviour without a Sacrifice, all the\nadornments of genius and sincerity will not prevent such a half gospel\nfrom falling flat. Its preachers have never been able, and never will\nbe able, to touch the general heart or to bring good cheer to men.\nThey have always had to complain, 'We have piped unto you and ye have\nnot danced.' They cannot get people to be glad over such a message.\nOnly when you speak of a Christ who has died for our sins, will you\ncause the heavy heart of the world to sing for joy. Only that old, old\nmessage is the good news which men want.\n\nThere is no second gospel. Men who preach a message of a different\nkind, as Paul tells us, are preaching what is not really another\ngospel. There cannot be two messages. There is but one genuine; all\nothers are counterfeits. For us it is all-important that we should be\nno less narrow than the truth, and no more liberal than he was to whom\nthe message 'how that Jesus died for our sins' was the only thing\nworth calling the gospel. Our own salvation depends on our firm grasp\nof that one message, and for some of us, the clear decisiveness with\nwhich our lips ring it out determines whether we shall be blessings or\ncurses to our generation. There is a Babel of voices now preaching\nother messages which promise good tidings of good. Let us cleave with\nall our hearts to Christ alone, and let our tongues not falter in\nproclaiming, 'Neither is there salvation in any other.' The gospel of\nthe Christ who died for our sins, is _the_ gospel.\n\nAnd what we have for ourselves to do with it is told us in that\npregnant phrase of the apostle's, 'my gospel,' and 'our gospel';\nmeaning not merely the message which he was charged to proclaim, but\nthe good news which he and his brethren had made their own. So we have\nto make it ours. It is of no use to us, unless we do. It is not enough\nthat it echoes all around us, like music borne upon the wind. It is\nnot enough that we hear it, as men do some sweet melody, while their\nthoughts are busy on other things. It is not enough that we believe\nit, as we do other histories in which we have no concern. What more is\nneeded? Another expression of the apostle's gives the answer. He\nspeaks of 'the faith of the gospel,' that is the trust which that glad\nmessage evokes, and by which it is laid hold of.\n\nMake it yours by trusting your whole self to the Christ of whom it\ntells you. The reliance of heart and will on Jesus who has died for\nme, makes it 'my gospel.' There is one God, one Christ, one gospel\nwhich tells us of them, and one faith by which we lay hold upon the\ngospel, and upon the loving Father and the ever-helpful Saviour of\nwhom it tells. Let us make that great word our own by simple faith,\nand then 'as cold water to our thirsty soul,' so will be that 'good\nnews from a far country,' the country where the Father's house is, and\nto which He has sent the Elder Brother to bring back us prodigal\nchildren.\n\n\n\nTHE STRONG FORERUNNER AND THE STRONGER SON\n\n\n'The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God; 2. As it\nis written in the prophets, Behold, I send My messenger before Thy\nface, which shall prepare Thy way before Thee. 3. The voice of one\ncrying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make His\npaths straight. 4. John did baptize in the wilderness, and preach the\nbaptism of repentance for the remission of sins. 5. And there went out\nunto him all the land of Judaea, and they of Jerusalem, and were all\nbaptized of him in the river of Jordan, confessing their sins. 6. And\nJohn was clothed with camel's hair, and with a girdle of a skin about\nhis loins; and he did eat locusts and wild honey; 7. And preached,\nsaying, There cometh One mightier than I after me, the latchet of\nwhose shoes I am not worthy to stoop down and unloose. 8. I indeed\nhave baptized you with water: but He shall baptize you with the Holy\nGhost. 9. And it came to pass in those days, that Jesus came from\nNazareth of Galilee, and was baptized of John in Jordan. And\nstraightway coming up out of the water, He saw the heavens opened, and\nthe Spirit like a dove descending upon Him: 11. And there came a voice\nfrom heaven, saying, Thou art My beloved Son, in whom I am well\npleased.'--Mark i. 1-11.\n\nThe first words of _In Memoriam_ might be taken to describe the theme\nof Mark's Gospel. It is the 'strong Son of God' whom he sets forth in\nhis rapid, impetuous narrative, which is full of fiery energy, and\ndelights to paint the unresting continuity of Christ's filial service.\nHis theme is not the King, as in Matthew; nor the Son of Man, as in\nLuke; nor the eternal Word manifested in flesh, as in John. Therefore\nhe neither begins by tracing His kingly lineage, as does the first\nevangelist; nor by dwelling on the humanities of wedded life and the\nsacredness of the family since He has been born; nor by soaring to the\nabysses of the eternal abiding of the Word with God, as the agent of\ncreation, the medium of life and light; but plunges at once into his\nsubject, and begins the Gospel with the mission of the Forerunner,\nwhich melts immediately into the appearance of the Son.\n\nI. We may note first, in this passage, the prelude, including verses\n1, 2, and 3. We need not discuss the grammatical connection of these\nverses, nor the relation of verses 2 and 3 to the following section.\nHowever that be settled, the result, for our present purpose, is the\nsame. Mark considers that John's mission is the beginning of the\ngospel. Here are two noteworthy points,--his use of that well-worn\nword, 'the gospel,' and his view of John's place in relation to it.\nThe gospel is the narrative of the facts of Christ's life and death.\nLater usage has taken it to be, rather, the statement of the truths\ndeducible from these facts, and especially the proclamation of\nsalvation by the power of Christ's atoning death; but the primitive\napplication of the word is to the history itself. So Paul uses it in\nhis formal statement of the gospel which he preached, with the\naddition, indeed, of the explanation of the meaning of Christ's death\n(1 Cor. xv. 1-6). The very name 'good news' necessarily implies that\nthe gospel is, primarily, history; but we cannot exclude from the\nmeaning of the word the statement of the significance of the facts,\nwithout which the facts have no message of blessing. Mark adds the\ndogmatic element when he defines the subject of the Gospel as being\n'Jesus Christ, the Son of God.' In the remainder of the book the\nsimple name 'Jesus' is used; but here, in starting, the full, solemn\ntitle is given, which unites the contemplation of Him in His manhood,\nin His office as fulfiller of prophecy and crown of revelation, and in\nHis mysterious, divine nature.\n\nWhether we regard verses 2 and 3 as connected grammatically with the\npreceding or the following verses, they equally refer to John, and\ndefine his position in relation to the Gospel. The Revised Version\nrestores the true reading, 'in Isaiah the prophet,' which some unwise\nand timid transcriber has, as he thought, mended into 'the prophets,'\nfor fear that an error should be found in Scripture. Of course, verse\n2 is not Isaiah's, but Malachi's; but verse 3, which is Isaiah's, was\nuppermost in Mark's mind, and his quotation of Malachi is, apparently,\nan afterthought, and is plainly merely introductory of the other, on\nwhich the stress lies. The remarkable variation in the Malachi\nquotation, which occurs in all three Evangelists, shows how completely\nthey recognised the divinity of our Lord, in their making words which,\nin the original, are addressed by Jehovah to Himself, to be addressed\nby the Father to the Son. There is a difference in the representation\nof the office of the forerunner in the two prophetic passages. In the\nformer 'he' prepares the way of the coming Lord; in the latter he\ncalls upon his hearers to prepare it. In fact, John prepared the way,\nas we shall see presently, just by calling on men to do so. In Mark's\nview, the first stage in the gospel is the mission of John. He might\nhave gone further back--to the work of prophets of old, or to the\nearliest beginnings in time of the self-revelation of God, as the\nwriter of the Epistle to the Hebrews does; or he might have ascended\neven higher up the stream--to the true 'beginning,' from which the\nfourth Evangelist starts. But his distinctly practical genius leads\nhim to fix his gaze on the historical fact of John's mission, and to\nclaim for it a unique position, which he proceeds to develop.\n\nII. So we have, next, the strong servant and fore runner (verses 4-8).\nThe abruptness with which the curtain is drawn, and the gaunt figure\nof the desert-loving ascetic shown us, is very striking. It is like\nthe way in which Elijah, his prototype, leaps, as it were, full-armed,\ninto the arena. The parallel passage in Matthew links his appearance\nwith the events which it has been narrating by the phrase 'in these\ndays,' and calls him 'the Baptist.' Mark has no such words, but lets\nhim stand forth in his isolation. The two accounts may profitably be\ncompared. Their likenesses suggest that they rest on a common basis,\nprobably of oral tradition, while their differences are, for the most\npart, significant. Mark differs in his arrangement of the common\nmatter, in omissions, and in some variations of expression. Each\naccount gives a general summary of John's teaching at the beginning;\nbut Matthew puts emphasis on the Baptist's proclamation that the\nkingdom of heaven was at hand, to which nothing in Mark corresponds.\nHis Gospel does not dwell on the royalty of Jesus, but rather\nrepresents Him as the Servant than as the King. Mark begins with\ndescribing John as baptizing, which only appears later in Matthew's\naccount. Mark omits all reference to the Sadducees and Pharisees, and\nto John's sharp words to them. He has nothing about the axe laid to\nthe trees, nothing about the children of Abraham, nothing about the\nfan in the hand of the great Husbandman. All the theocratic aspect of\nthe Messiah, as proclaimed by John, is absent; and, as there is no\nreference to the fire which destroys, so neither is there to the fire\nof the Holy Ghost, in which He baptizes. Mark reports only John's\npreaching and baptism of repentance, and his testimony to Christ as\nstronger than he, and as baptizing with the Holy Ghost.\n\nSo, on the whole, Mark's picture brings out prominently the following\ntraits in John's personality and mission:--First, his preparation for\nChrist by preaching repentance. The truest way to create in men a\nlonging for Jesus, and to lead to a true apprehension of His unique\ngift to mankind, is to evoke the penitent consciousness of sin. The\npreacher of guilt and repentance is the herald of the bringer of\npardon and purity. That is true in reference to the relation of\nJudaism and Christianity, of John and Jesus, and is as true to-day as\never it was. The root of maimed conceptions of the work and nature of\nJesus Christ is a defective sense of sin. When men are roused to\nbelieve in judgment, and to realise their own evil, they are ready to\nlisten to the blessed news of a Saviour from sin and its curse. The\nChrist whom John heralds is the Christ that men need; the Christ whom\nmen receive, without having been out in the wilderness with the stern\npreacher of sin and judgment, is but half a Christ--and it is the\nvital half that is missing.\n\nAgain, Mark brings out John's personal asceticism. He omits much; but\nhe could not leave out the picture of the grim, lean solitary, who\nstalked among soft-robed men, like Elijah come to life again, and held\nthe crowds by his self-chosen privations no less than by his fierce,\nfiery eloquence. His desert life and contempt for ease and luxury\nspoke of a strength of character and purpose which fascinated commoner\nmen, and make the next point the more striking--namely, the utter\nhumility with which this strong, self-reliant, fiery rebuker of sin,\nand despiser of rank and official dignities, flings himself at the\nfeet of the coming One. He is strong, as his life and the awestruck\ncrowds testified; how strong must that Other be! He feared not the\nface of man, nor owned inferiority to any; but his whole soul melted\ninto joyful submission, and confessed unworthiness even to unlace the\nsandals of that mightier One. His transitional position is also\nplainly marked by our Evangelist. He is the end of prophecy, the\nbeginning of the Gospel, belonging to neither and to both. He is not\nmerely a prophet, for he is prophesied of as well; and he stands so\nnear Him whom he foretells, that his prediction is almost fact. He is\nnot an Evangelist, nor, in the closest sense, a servant of the coming\nChrist; for his lowly confession of unworthiness does not imply merely\nhis humility, but accurately defines the limits of his function. It\nwas not for him to bear or to loose that Lord's sandals. There were\nthose who did minister to Him, and the least of those, whose message\nto the world was 'Christ has come,' had the honour of closer service\nthan that greatest among women-born, whose task was to run before the\nchariot of the King and tell that He was at hand.\n\nIII. We have the gentle figure of the stronger Son. The introduction\nof Jesus is somewhat less abrupt than that of John; but if we remember\nwhom Mark believed Him to be, the quiet words which tell of His first\nappearance are sufficiently remarkable. There is no mention of His\nbirth or previous years. His deeds will tell who He is. The years\nbefore His baptism were of no moment for Mark's purpose. Nor has he\nany report of the precious conversation of Jesus with John, when the\nforerunner testified to Christ's purity, which needed no washing nor\nrepentance, and acknowledged at once his own sinfulness and the Lord's\ncleansing power, and when Christ accepted the homage, and, by\nimplication, claimed the character, purity, and power which John\nattributed to Him. The omission may be accounted for on a principle\nwhich seems to run through all this Gospel--of touching lightly or\nomitting indications of our Lord's dignity, and dwelling by preference\non His acts of lowliness and service. The baptism is recorded; but the\nconversation, which showed that the King of Israel, in submitting to\nit, acknowledged no need of it for Himself, but regarded it as\n'fulfilling righteousness' is passed by. The sinlessness of Jesus, and\nthe special meaning of His baptism, are sufficiently shown by the\ndescending Spirit and the approving voice. These Mark does record; for\nthey warrant the great name by which, in his first verse, he has\ndescribed Jesus as 'the Son of God.'\n\nThe brief account of these is marked by the Evangelist's vivid\npictorial faculty, which we shall frequently have to notice as we read\nhis Gospel. Here he puts us, by a word, in the position of\neye-witnesses of the scene as it is passing, when he describes the\nheavens as 'being rent asunder'--a much more forcible and pictorial\nword than Matthew's 'opened.' He says nothing of John's share in the\nvision. All is intended for the Son. It is Jesus who sees the rending\nheavens and the descending dove. The voice which Matthew represents as\nspeaking _of_ Christ, Mark represents as speaking _to_ Him.\n\nThe baptism of Jesus, then, was an epoch in His own consciousness. It\nwas not merely His designation to John or to others as Messiah, but\nfor Himself the sense of Sonship and the sunlight of divine\ncomplacency filled His spirit in new measure or manner. Speaking as we\nhave to do from the outside, and knowing but dimly the mysteries of\nHis unique personality, we have to speak modestly and little. But we\nknow that our Lord grew, as to His manhood, in wisdom, and that His\nmanhood was continually the receiver, from the Father, of the Spirit;\nand the reality of His divinity, as dwelling in His manhood from the\nbeginning of that manhood, is not affected by the belief that when the\ndovelike Spirit floated down on His meek head, glistening with the\nwater of baptism, His manhood then received a new and special\nconsciousness of His Messianic office and of His Sonship.\n\nWhilst that voice was for His sake, it was for others too; for John\nhimself tells us (John i.) that the sign had been told him beforehand,\nand that it was his sight of the descending dove which heightened his\nthoughts and gave a new turn to his testimony, leading him to know and\nto show 'that this is the Son of God.' The rent heavens have long\nsince closed, and that dread voice is silent; but the fact of that\nattestation remains on record, that we, too, may hear through the\ncenturies God speaking of and to His Son, and may lay to heart the\ncommandment to us, which naturally follows God's witness to Jesus,\n'Hear ye Him.'\n\nThe symbol of the dove may be regarded as a prophecy of the gentleness\nof the Son. Thus early in His course the two qualities were harmonised\nin Him, which so seldom are united, and each of which dwelt in Him in\ndivinest perfection, both as to degree and manner. John's\nanticipations of the strong coming One looked for the manifestations\nof His strength in judgment and destruction. How strangely his images\nof the axe, the fan, the fire, are contrasted with the reality,\nemblemed by this dove dropping from heaven, with sunshine on its\nbreast and peace in its still wings! Through the ages, Christ's\nstrength has been the strength of gentleness, and His coming has been\nlike that of Noah's dove, with the olive-branch in its beak, and the\ntidings of an abated flood and of a safe home in its return. The\nascetic preacher of repentance was strong to shake and purge men's\nhearts by terror; but the stronger Son comes to conquer by meekness,\nand reign by the omnipotence of love. The beginning of the gospel was\nthe anticipation and the proclamation of strength like the eagle's,\nswift of flight, and powerful to strike and destroy. The gospel, when\nit became a fact, and not a hope, was found in the meek Jesus, with\nthe dove of God, the gentle Spirit, which is mightier than all,\nnestling in His heart, and uttering soft notes of invitation through\nHis lips.\n\n\n\nMIGHTY IN WORD AND DEED\n\n\n'And they went into Capernaum; and straightway on the Sabbath day He\nentered into the synagogue, and taught. 22. And they were astonished\nat His doctrine: for He taught them as one that had authority, and not\nas the scribes. 23. And there was in their synagogue a man with an\nunclean spirit; and he cried out, 24. Saying, Let us alone; what have\nwe to do with Thee, Thou Jesus of Nazareth? art Thou come to destroy\nus? I know Thee who Thou art, the Holy One of God. 25. And Jesus\nrebuked him, saying, Hold thy peace, and come out of him. 26. And when\nthe unclean spirit had torn him, and cried with a loud voice, he came\nout of him. 27. And they were all amazed, insomuch that they\nquestioned among themselves, saying, What thing is this? what new\ndoctrine is this? for with authority commandeth He even the unclean\nspirits, and they do obey Him. 28. And immediately His fame spread\nabroad throughout all the region round about Galilee. 29. And\nforthwith, when they were come out of the synagogue, they entered into\nthe house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30. But Simon's\nwife's mother lay sick of a fever, and anon they tell Him of her. 31.\nAnd He came and took her by the hand, and lifted her up; and\nimmediately the fever left her, and she ministered unto them. 32. And\nat even, when the sun did set, they brought unto Him all that were\ndiseased, and them that were possessed with devils. 33. And all the\ncity was gathered together at the door. 34. And He healed many that\nwere sick of divers diseases, and cast out many devils; and suffered\nnot the devils to speak, because they knew Him.'--Mark i. 21-34.\n\nNone of the incidents in this section are peculiar to Mark, but the\nspecial stamp of his Gospel is on them all; and, both in the narration\nof each and in the swift transition from one to another, the\nimpression of Christ's strength and unpausing diligence in filial\nservice is made. The short hours of that first Sabbath's ministry are\ncrowded with work; and Christ's energy bears Him through exhausting\nphysical labours, and enables Him to turn with unwearied sympathy and\nmarvellous celerity to each new form of misery, and to throw Himself\nwith freshness undiminished into the relief of each. The homely virtue\nof diligence shines out in this lesson no less clearly than superhuman\nstrength that tames demons and heals all manner of sickness. There are\nfour pictures here, compressed and yet vivid. Mark can condense and\nkeep all the essentials, for his keen eye and sure hand go straight to\nthe heart of his incidents.\n\nI. The strong Son of God teaching with authority. 'They enter; we see\nthe little group, consisting of Jesus and of the two pairs of\nbrothers, in whose hearts the mighty conviction of His Messiahship had\ntaken root. Simon and Andrew were at home in Capernaum; but we may,\nperhaps, infer from the manner in which the sickness of Peter's wife's\nmother is mentioned, that Peter had not been to his house till after\nthe synagogue service. At all events, these four were already detached\nfrom ordinary life and bound to Him as disciples. We meet here with\nour first instance of Mark's favourite 'straightway,' the recurrence\nof which, in this chapter, so powerfully helps the impression of eager\nand yet careful swiftness with which Christ ran His course,\n'unhasting, unresting.' From the beginning Mark stamps his story with\nthe spirit of our Lord's own words, 'I must work the works of Him that\nsent me, while it is day: the night cometh.' And yet there is no\nhurry, but the calm, equable rapidity with which planets move. The\nunostentatious manner of Christ's beginning is noteworthy. He seeks to\nset Himself in the line of the ordinary teaching of the day. He knew\nall the faults of the synagogue and the rabbis, and He had come to\nrevolutionise the very conception of religious teaching and worship;\nbut He prefers to intertwine the new with the old, and to make as\nlittle disturbance as possible. It is easy to get the cheap praise of\n'originality' by brushing aside existing methods. It is harder and\nnobler to use whatever methods may be going, and to breathe new value\nand life into them. Drowsy, hair-splitting disputations about nothings\nand endless casuistry were the staple of the synagogue talk; but when\nHe opened His mouth there, the weary formalism went out of the\nservice, and men's hearts glowed again when they once more heard a\nVoice that lived, speaking from a Soul that saw the invisible. Mark\nhas no mission to record many of our Lord's sayings. His Gospel deals\nmore with deeds. The sermon he does not give, but the hearer's comment\nhe does. Matthew has the same words at the close of the Sermon on the\nMount, from which it would seem that they were part of the oral\ntradition which underlies the written Gospels; but Mark probably has\nthem in their right place. Very naturally, the first synagogue\ndiscourse in Capernaum would surprise. Deeper impressions might be\nmade by its successors, but the first hearing of that voice would be\nan experience that could never be repeated.\n\nThe feature of His teaching which astonished the villagers most was\nits 'authority.' That fits in with the impression of strength which\nMark wishes to make. Another thing that struck them was its unlikeness\nto the type of synagogue teaching to which they had been accustomed\nall their lives. They had got so accustomed to the droning dreariness\nand trivial subtleties of the rabbis, that it had never entered their\nheads that there could be any other way of teaching religion than\nboring men with interminable pedantries about trifles of ritual or\noutward obedience. This new Teacher would startle all, as an eagle\nsuddenly appearing in a sanhedrim of owls. He would shock many; He\nwould fascinate a few. Nor was it only the dissimilarity of His\nteaching, but also its authority, that was strange. The scribes spoke\nwith authority enough of a sort, lording it over the despised common\npeople--'men of the earth,' as they called them--and exacting\npunctilious obedience and much obsequiousness; but authority over the\nspirit they had none. They pretended to no power but as expositors of\na law; and they fortified themselves by citations of what this, that,\nand the other rabbi had said, which was all their learning. Christ\nquoted no one. He did not even say, 'Moses has said.' He did not even\npreface His commands with a 'Thus saith the Lord.' He spoke of His own\nauthority: 'Verily, _I say_ unto you.' Other teachers explained the\nlaw; He is a lawgiver. Others drew more or less pure waters from\ncisterns; He is in Himself a well of water, from which all may draw.\nTo us, as to these rude villagers in the synagogue of the little\nfishing-town, Christ's teaching is unique in this respect. He does not\nargue; He affirms. He seeks no support from others' teachings; He\nalone is sufficient for us. He not only speaks the truth, which needs\nno other confirmation than His own lips, but He is the truth. We may\ncanvass other men's teachings, and distinguish their insight from\ntheir errors; we have but to accept His. The world outgrows all\nothers; it can only grow up towards the fulness of His. Us and all the\nages He teaches with authority, and the guarantee for the truth of His\nteaching is Himself. 'Verily, verily, I say unto you.' No other man\nhas a right to say that to me. But Christ dominates the race, and the\nstrong Son of God is the world's Teacher.\n\nII. The strong conqueror of demons. Again we have 'straightway.' The\nlanguage seems to imply that this wretched sufferer burst hurriedly\ninto the synagogue and interrupted the utterance of astonishment by\ngiving it new food. Perhaps the double consciousness of the demoniac\nmay be recognised, the humanity being drawn to Jesus by some disturbed\nlongings, the demoniac consciousness, on the other hand, being\nrepelled. It is no part of my purpose to discuss demoniacal\npossession. I content myself with remarking that I, for one, do not\nsee how Christ's credit as a divine Teacher is to be saved without\nadmitting its reality, nor how such phenomena as the demoniac's\nknowledge of His nature are to be accounted for on the hypothesis of\ndisease or insanity. It is assuming rather too encyclop\u00e6diacal a\nknowledge to allege the impossibility of such possession. There are\nfacts enough around us still, which would be at least as\nsatisfactorily accounted for by it as by natural causes; but as to the\nincident before us, Mark puts it all into three sentences, each of\nwhich is pregnant with suggestions. There is, first, the demoniac's\nshriek of hatred and despair. Christ had said nothing. If, as we\nsuppose, the man had broken in on the worship, drawn to Jesus, he is\nno sooner in His presence than the other power that darkly lodged in\nhim overpowers him, and pours out fierce passions from his reluctant\nlips. There is dreadful meaning in the preposition here used, 'a man\n_in_ an unclean spirit,' as if his human self was immersed in that\nfilthy flood. The words embody three thoughts--the fierce hatred,\nwhich disowns all connection with Jesus; the wild terror, which asks\nor affirms Christ's destructive might over all foul spirits (for the\n'us' means not the man and the demon, but the demon and his fellows);\nand the recognition of Christ's holiness, which lashes unholiness into\na paroxysm of mingled despair and hate. Does this sound like a madman,\nor an epileptic, or like a spirit which knew more than men knew, and\ntrembled and hated more than they could do? There is nothing more\nterrible than the picture, self-drawn in these spasmodic words, of a\nspirit which, by its very foulness, is made shudderingly sensitive to\nthe disturbing presence of purity, and would fain have nothing to do\nwith Him whom it recognises for the Holy One of God, and therefore its\ndestroyer. Foul things that lurk under stones hurry out of the light\nwhen you lift the covering. Spirits that love the darkness are hurt by\nthe light. It is possible to recognise Jesus for what He is, and to\nhate Him all the more. What a miserable state that is, to hope that we\nshall have nothing to do with Him! These wild utterances, seething\nwith evil passions and fierce detestation, do point to the possible\nterminus for men. A black gulf opens in them, from which we are meant\nto start back with the prayer, 'Preserve me from going down into that\npit!'\n\nWhat a contrast to the tempest of the demoniac's wild and whirling\nwords is the calm speech of Christ! He knows His authority, and His\nword is imperative, curt, and assured: 'Hold thy peace!' literally,\n'Be muzzled,' as if the creature were a dangerous beast, whose raving\nand snapping must be stopped. Jesus wishes no acknowledgments from\nsuch lips. They who bear the vessels of the Lord must be clean. He had\ntaught with authority, and now He in like manner commands. His\nteaching rested on His own assurance. His miracle is done by His own\npower. That power is put forth by His simple word; that is to say, the\nbare exercise or expression of His will is potent.\n\nThe third step in the narrative is the immediate obedience of the\ndemon. Reluctant but compelled, malicious to the last, doing the house\nwhich he has to leave all the harm he can, and though no longer\nventuring to speak, yet venting his rage and mortification, and\nacknowledging his defeat by one parting howl, he comes out.\n\nAgain, we are bid to note the impression produced. The interrupted\nbuzz of talk begins once more, and is vividly reported by the\nfragmentary sentences of verse 27, and by the remark that it was\n'among themselves' that they compared notes. Two things startled the\npeople:--first, the 'new teaching'; and second, the authority over\ndemons, into which they naturally generalise the one instance. The\nbusy tongues were not silenced when they left the synagogue. Verse 28\nshows what happened, in one direction, when the meeting broke up. With\nanother 'straightway,' Mark paints the swift flight of the rumour over\nall the district, and somewhat overleaps the strict line of\nchronology, to let us hear how far the echo of such a blow sounded.\nThis first miracle recorded by him is as a duel between Christ and the\n'strong man armed,' who 'keeps his house.' The shield of the great\noppressor is first struck in challenge by the champion, and His first\nessay at arms proves Him mightiest. Such a victory well heads the\nchronicle.\n\nIII. The tenderness of the strong Son. We come back to the strict\norder of succession with another 'straightway,' which opens a very\ndifferent scene. The Authorised Version gives three 'straightways' in\nthe three verses as to the cure of Peter's mother-in-law.\n'Immediately' they go to the house; 'immediately' they tell Jesus of\nher; 'immediately' the fever leaves her; and even if we omit the third\nof these, as the Revised Version does, we cannot miss the rapid haste\nof the narrative, which reflects the unwearied energy of the Master.\nPeter and Andrew had apparently been ignorant of the sickness till\nthey reached the house, from which the inference is not that it was a\nslight attack which had come on after they went to the synagogue, but\nthat the two disciples had so really left house and kindred, that\nthough in Capernaum, they had not gone home till they took Jesus there\nfor rest and quiet and food after the toil of the morning. The owners\nwould naturally first know of the sickness, which would interfere with\ntheir hospitable purpose; and so Mark's account seems more near the\ndetails than Matthew's, inasmuch as the former says that Jesus was\n'told' of the sick woman, while Matthew's version is that He 'saw'\nher. Luke says that they 'besought Him for her.' No doubt that was the\nmeaning of 'telling' Him; but Mark's representation brings out very\nbeautifully the confidence already beginning to spring in their hearts\nthat He needed but to know in order to heal, and the reverence which\nhindered them from direct asking. The instinct of the devout heart is\nto tell Christ all its troubles, great or small; and He does not need\nbeseeching before He answers. He did not need to be told either, but\nHe would not rob them or us of the solace of confiding all griefs to\nHim.\n\nTheir confidence was not misplaced. No moment intervened unused\nbetween the tidings and the cure. 'He came,' as if He had been in some\nouter room, or not yet in the house, and now passed into the sick\nchamber. Then comes one of Mark's minute and graphic details, in which\nwe may see the keen eye and faithful memory of Peter. He 'took her by\nthe hand, and lifted her up.' Mark is fond of telling of Christ's\ntaking by the hand; as, for instance, the little child whom He set in\nthe midst, the blind man whom He healed, the child with the dumb\nspirit. His touch has power. His grasp means sympathy, tenderness,\nidentification of Himself with us, the communication of upholding,\nrestoring strength. It is a picture, in a small matter, of the very\nheart of the gospel. 'He layeth not hold of angels, but He layeth hold\nof the seed of Abraham.' It is a lesson for all who would help their\nfellows, that they must not be too dainty to lay hold of the dirtiest\nhand, both metaphorically and literally, if they want their sympathy\nto be believed. His hand banishes not only the disease, but its\nconsequences. Immediate convalescence and restoration to strength\nfollow; and the strength is used, as it should be, in ministering to\nthe Healer who, notwithstanding His power, needed the humble\nministration and the poor fare of the fisherman's hut. What a lesson\nfor all Christian homes is here! Let Jesus know all that troubles\nthem, welcome Him as a guest, tell Him everything, and He will cure\nall diseases and sorrows, or give the light of His presence to make\nthem endurable. Consecrate to Him the strength which He gives, and let\ndeliverances teach trust, and inflame grateful love, which delights in\nserving Him who needs no service, but delights in all.\n\nIV. The strong Son, unwearied by toil and sufficient for all the\nneedy. Each incident in this lesson has a note appended of the\nimpression it made. Verses 32-34 give the united result of all, on the\npeople of Capernaum. They wait till the Sabbath is past, and then,\nwithout thought of His long day of work, crowd round the house with\ntheir sick. The sinking sun brought no rest for Him, but the new calls\nfound Him neither exhausted nor unwilling. Capernaum was but a little\nplace, and the whole city might well be 'gathered together at the\ndoor,' some sick, some bearing the sick, all curious and eager. There\nwas no depth in the excitement. There was earnestness enough, no\ndoubt, in the wish for healing, but there was no insight into His\nmessage. Any travelling European with a medicine chest can get the\nsame kind of cortege round his tent. These people, who hung upon Him\nthus, were those of whom He had afterwards to say that it would be\n'more tolerable for Sodom, in the day of judgment, than for them.' But\nthough He knew the shallowness of the impression, He was not deaf to\nthe misery; and, with power which knew no weariness, and sympathy\nwhich had no limit, and a reservoir of healing virtue which the day's\ndraughts had not emptied by a hairs-breadth, He healed them all.\nRemarkable is the prohibition of the demons' speech, They knew Him,\nwhile men were ignorant; for they had met Him before to-day. He would\nhave no witness from them; not merely, as has been said, because their\nattestation would hinder, rather than further, His acceptance by the\npeople, nor because they may be supposed to have spoken in malice, but\nbecause a divine decorum forbade that He should accept acknowledgments\nfrom such tainted sources.\n\nSo ended this first of 'the days of the Son of Man,' which our\nEvangelist records. It was a day of hard toil, of merciful and\nmanifold self-revelation. As teacher and doer, in the synagogue, and\nin the home, and in the city; as Lord of the dark realms of evil and\nof disease; as ready to hear hinted and dumb prayers, and able to\nanswer them all; as careless of His own ease, and ready to spend\nHimself for others' help,--Jesus showed Himself, on that Sabbath day,\nstrong and tender, the Son of God and the servant of men.\n\n\n\nHEALING AND SERVICE\n\n\n'Simon's wife's mother lay sick of a fever; and straightway they tell\nHim of her: 31. And He came and took her by the hand, and raised her\nup; and the fever left her, and she ministered unto them.'--Mark i.\n30, 31, R. V.\n\nThis miracle is told us by three of the four Evangelists, and the\ncomparison of their brief narratives is very interesting and\ninstructive. We all know, I suppose, that the common tradition is that\nMark was, in some sense, Peter's mouthpiece in this Gospel. The\ntruthfulness of that ancient statement is borne out by little morsels\nof evidence that crop up here and there throughout the Gospel. There\nis one of them in this context. The other two Evangelists tell us that\nour Lord, with His four attendant disciples, 'entered into the house\nof Simon'; Mark knows that Simon's brother Andrew shared the house\nwith him. Who was likely to have told him such an insignificant thing\nas that? We seem to hear the Apostle himself recounting the whole\nstory to his amanuensis.\n\nThen, further, Mark's narrative is distinguished from that of the\nother two Evangelists in very minute and yet interesting points, which\nwill come out as we go along. So I think we may fairly say that we\nhave here Peter himself telling us the story of his mother-in-law's\ncure. Now, one thing that strikes one is that this is a very small\nmiracle. It is by no means--if we can apply the words 'great' and\n'small' to these miraculous events--one of the more striking and\nsignificant. Another point to note is that it was done evidently\nwithout the slightest intention of vindicating Christ's mission, or of\npreaching any truth whatever, and so it starts up into a new beauty as\nbeing simply and solely a manifestation of His love. I think, when\nsome people are so busy in denying, and others in proving, the\nmiraculous element in Scripture, and others in drawing doctrinal or\nsymbolical lessons out of it, that there is great need to emphasise\nthis, that the first thing about all Christ's miracles, and most\nconspicuously about this one, is that they were the welling out of His\nloving heart which responded to the sight of human sorrow--I was going\nto say instinctively; but I will find a better word, and say divinely.\nThe deed that had no purpose whatsoever except to lighten the burden\nupon a disciple's heart, and to heal the passing physical trouble of\none poor old woman, is great, just because it is small; and full of\nteaching because, to the superficial eye, it teaches nothing.\n\nThe first thing in the story is, as it seems to me--\n\nI. The disciple's intercession.\n\nI wonder if Peter knew that his wife's mother was ill, when he said to\nJesus Christ, after that exciting morning in the synagogue, 'Come\nhome, and rest in our house'? Probably not. One can scarcely imagine\nhospitality proffered under such circumstances, or with a knowledge of\nthem. And if we look a little more closely into the preceding\nnarrative we shall see that it is at least possible that Peter and his\nbrother had been away from home for some time; so that the old woman\nmight easily have fallen ill during their temporary absence. But be\nthat as it may, they expect to find rest and food, and they find a\nsick woman.\n\nThere must have been at least two rooms in the humble house, because\nthey 'come to Jesus Christ and tell Him of her.' Now if we turn to the\nother Evangelists, we shall find that Matthew says nothing about any\nmessage being communicated to Jesus, but brings Him at once, as It\nwere, to the side of the sick-bed. That is evidently an incomplete\naccount. And then we find in Luke's Gospel that, instead of the simple\n'tell Him of her' of Mark, he intensifies the telling into 'they\nbesought Him for her.' Now, I think that Mark's is plainly the more\nprecise story, because he lets us see that Jesus Christ did not commit\nsuch a breach of courtesy, due to the humblest home, as to go to the\nwoman's bedside without being summoned, and he also lets us see that\nthe 'beseeching' was a simple intimation to Him. They did not ask;\nthey tell Him; being, perhaps, restrained from definite petitioning\npartly by reverence, and partly, no doubt, by hesitation in these\nearly days of their discipleship--for this incident occurred at the\nvery beginning, when all the subsequent manifestations of His\ncharacter were yet waiting to be flashed upon them--as to whether it\nmight be in accordance with their new Teacher's very little known\ndisposition and mind to help. They knew that He could, because He had\njust healed a demoniac in the synagogue, but one can understand how,\nat the beginning of their discipleship, there was a little faltering\nof confidence as to whether they should go so far as to ask Him to do\nsuch a thing. So they 'tell Him of her,' and do you not think that the\ntone of petition vibrated in the intimation, and that there looked out\nof the eyes of the impulsive, warm-hearted Peter, an unspoken prayer?\nSo Luke was perfectly right in his interpretation of the incident,\nthough not precise in his statement of the external fact, when,\ninstead of saying 'they tell Him of her,' he translated that telling\ninto what it meant, and put it, 'they besought Him for her.'\n\nAh! dear brethren, there are a great many things in our lives which,\nthough we ought to know Jesus Christ better than the first disciples\nat first did, scarcely seem to us fit to be turned into subjects of\npetition, partly because we have wrong notions as to the sphere and\nlimits of prayer, and partly because they seem to be such transitory\nthings that it is a shame to trouble Him about such insignificant\nmatters. Well, go and tell Him, at any rate. I do not think that\nChristians ought to have anything in their heads or hearts that they\ndo not take to Jesus Christ, and it is an uncommonly good test--and\none very easily applied--of our hopes, fears, purposes, thoughts,\ndeeds, and desires--'Should I like to go and make a clean breast of it\nto the Master?'\n\n'They tell Him of her,' and that meant petition, and Jesus Christ can\ninterpret an unspoken petition, and an unexpressed desire appeals to\nHis sympathetic heart. Although the words be but 'O Lord! I am\ntroubled, perplexed; and I do not know what to do,' He translates them\ninto 'Calm Thou me; enlighten Thou me; guide Thou me'; and be sure of\nthis, that as in the story before us, so in our lives, He will answer\nthe unspoken petition in so far as may be best for us.\n\nThe next thing to note in this incident is--\n\nII. The Healers method.\n\nThere, again, the three stories diverge, and yet are all one. Matthew\nsays, 'He touched her'; Luke says, 'He _stood_'-or rather, as the\nGreek means, 'He _bent over her_--and rebuked the fever.' Perhaps\nPeter was close to the pallet, and saw and remembered that there were\nnot a standing over and rebuking the fever only, but that there was\nthe going out of His tender sympathy to the sufferer, and that if\nthere were stern words as of indignation and authority addressed to\nthe disease as if to an unlawful intruder, there were also compassion\nand tenderness for the victim. For Mark tells that it was not a touch\nonly, but that 'He took her by the hand and lifted her up,' and the\ngrasp banished sickness and brought strength.\n\nNow the most precious of the lessons that we can gather from the\nvariety of Christ's methods of healing is this: that all methods which\nHe used were in themselves equally powerless, and that the curative\nvirtue was in neither the word nor the touch, nor the spittle, nor the\nclay, nor the bathing in the pool of Siloam, but was purely and simply\nin the outgoing of His will. The reasons for the wonderful variety of\nways in which He communicated His healing power are to be sought\npartly in the respective moral, and spiritual, and intellectual\ncondition of the people to be healed, and partly in wider reasons and\nconsiderations. Why did He stoop and touch the woman, and take her by\nthe hand and gently lift her up? Because His heart went out to her,\nbecause He felt the emotion and sympathy which makes the whole world\nkin, and because His heart was a heart of love, and bade Him come into\nclose contact with the poor fever-ridden woman. Unless we regard that\nhand-clasp as being such an instinctive attitude and action of\nChrist's sympathetic love, we lose the deepest significance of it. And\nthen, when we have given full weight to that, the simplest and yet the\nmost blessed of all the thoughts that cluster round the deed, we can\nventure further to say that in that small matter we see mirrored, as a\nwide sweep of country in a tiny mirror, or the sun in a bowl of water,\nthe great truth: 'He took not hold of angels, but He took hold of the\nseed of Abraham, wherefore it behoved Him to be made in all things\nlike unto His brethren.' The touch upon the fevered hand of that old\nwoman in Capernaum was as a condensation into one act of the very\nprinciple of the Incarnation and of the whole power which Christ\nexercises upon a fevered and sick world. For it is by His touch, by\nHis lifting hand, by His sympathetic grasp, and by our real contact\nwith Him, that all our sicknesses are banished, and health and\nstrength come to our souls.\n\nSo let us learn a lesson for our own guidance. We can do no man any\nreal good unless we make ourselves one with him, and benefits that we\nbestow will hurt rather than help, if they are flung down upon men as\nfrom a height, or as people cast a bone to a dog. The heart must go\nwith them; and identification with the sufferer is a condition of\nsuccour. If we would take lepers and blind beggars and poor old women\nby the hand--I mean, of course, by giving them our sympathy along with\nour help--we should see larger results from, and be more Christ-like\nin, our deeds of beneficence.\n\nThe last point is--\n\nIII. The healed sufferer's service.\n\n'She arose'--yes, of course she did, when Christ grasped her. How\ncould she help it? 'And she ministered to them,'--how could she help\nthat either, if she had any thankfulness in her heart? What a lovely,\nglad, awe-stricken meal that would be, to which they all sat down in\nSimon's house, on that Sabbath night, as the sun was setting! It was a\nhumble household. There were no servants in it. The convalescent old\nwoman had to do all the ministering herself, and that she was able to\ndo it was, of course, as everybody remarks on reading the narrative,\nthe sign of the completeness of the cure. But it was a great deal more\nthan that. How could she sit still and not minister to Him who had\ndone so much for her? And if you and I, dear friends, have any living\napprehension of Christ's healing power, and understand and respond at\nall to 'that for which we have been laid hold of' by Him, our\nthankfulness will take the same shape, and we, too, shall become His\nservants. Up yonder, amidst the blaze of the glory, He is still\ncapable of being ministered to by us. The woman who did so on earth\nhad no monopoly of this sacred office, but it continues still. And\nevery housewife, as she goes about her duties, and every domestic\nservant, as she moves round her mistress's dinner-table, and all of\nus, in our secular avocations, as people call them, may indeed serve\nChrist, if only we have regard to Him in the doing of them. There is\nalso a yet higher sense in which that ministration, incumbent upon all\nthe healed, and spontaneous on their part if they have truly been\nrecipients of the healing grace, is still possible for us. 'When saw\nwe Thee... in need... and served Thee?' 'Inasmuch as ye did it unto\none of the least of these My brethren, ye did it unto Me.'\n\n\n\nA PARABLE IN A MIRACLE\n\n\n'And there came a leper to Him, beseeching Him, and kneeling down to\nHim, and saying unto Him, If Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean. 41.\nAnd Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth His hand, and touched him,\nand saith unto him, I will; be thou clean. 42. And as soon as He had\nspoken, immediately the leprosy departed from him, and he was\ncleansed.'--Mark i. 40-42.\n\nChrist's miracles are called wonders--that is, deeds which, by their\nexceptional character, arrest attention and excite surprise. Further,\nthey are called 'mighty works'--that is, exhibitions of superhuman\npower. They are still further called 'signs'--that is, tokens of His\ndivine mission. But they are signs in another sense, being, as it\nwere, parables as well as miracles, and representing on the lower\nplane of material things the effects of His working on men's spirits.\nThus, His feeding of the hungry speaks of His higher operation as the\nBread of Life. His giving sight to the blind foreshadows His\nillumination of darkened minds. His healing of the diseased speaks of\nHis restoration of sick souls. His stilling of the tempest tells of\nHim as the Peace-bringer for troubled hearts; and His raising of the\ndead proclaims Him as the Life-giver, who quickens with the true life\nall who believe on Him. This parabolic aspect of the miracles is\nobvious in the case before us. Leprosy received exceptional treatment\nunder the Mosaic law, and the peculiar restrictions to which the\nsufferer was subjected, as well as the ritual of his cleansing, in the\nrare cases where the disease wore itself out, are best explained by\nbeing considered as symbolical rather than as sanitary. It was taken\nas an emblem of sin. Its hideous symptoms, its rotting sores, its\nslow, stealthy, steady progress, its defiance of all known means of\ncure, made its victim only too faithful a walking image of that worse\ndisease. Remembering this deeper aspect of leprosy, let us study this\nmiracle before us, and try to gather its lessons.\n\nI. First, then, notice the leper's cry.\n\nMark connects the story with our Lord's first journey through Galilee,\nwhich was signalised by many miracles, and had excited much stir and\ntalk. The news of the Healer had reached the isolated huts where the\nlepers herded, and had kindled a spark of hope in one poor wretch,\nwhich emboldened him to break through all regulations, and thrust his\ntainted and unwelcome presence into the shrinking crowd. He seems to\nhave appeared there suddenly, having forced or stolen his way somehow\ninto Christ's presence. And there he was, with his horrible white\nface, with his tightened, glistening skin, with some frowsy rag over\nhis mouth, and a hunted look as of a wild beast in his eyes. The crowd\nshrank back from him; he had no difficulty in making his way to where\nChrist is sitting, calmly teaching. And Mark's vivid narrative shows\nhim to us, flinging himself down before the Lord, and, without waiting\nfor question or pause, interrupting whatever was going on, with his\npiteous cry. Misery and wretchedness make short work of conventional\npoliteness.\n\nNote the keen sense of misery that impels to the passionate desire for\nrelief. A leper with the flesh dropping off his bones could not\nsuppose that there was nothing the matter with him. His disease was\ntoo gross and palpable not to be felt; and the depth of misery\nmeasured the earnestness of desire. The parallel fails us there. The\nemblem is all insufficient, for here is the very misery of our deepest\nmisery, that we are unconscious of it, and sometimes even come to love\nit. There are forms of sickness in which the man goes about, and to\neach inquiry says, 'I am perfectly well,' though everybody else can\nsee death written on his face. And so it is with this terrible malady\nthat has laid its corrupting and putrefying finger upon us all. The\nworse we are, the less we know that there is anything the matter with\nus; and the deeper the leprosy has struck its filthy fangs into us,\nthe more ready we are to say that we are sound. We preachers have it\nfor one of our first duties to try to rouse men to the recognition of\nthe facts of their spiritual condition, and all our efforts are too\noften--as I, for my part, sometimes half despairingly feel when I\nstand in the pulpit--like a firebrand dropped into a pond, which\nhisses for a moment and then is extinguished. Men and women sit in\npews listening contentedly and quietly, who, if they saw themselves, I\ndo not say even as God sees them, but as others see them, would know\nthat the leprosy is deep in them, and the taint patent to every eye. I\ndo not charge you, my brother, with gross transgressions of plain\nmoralities; I know nothing about that. I know this: 'As face answereth\nto face in a glass,' so doth the heart of man to man, and I bring this\nmessage, verified to me by my own consciousness, that we have all gone\nastray, and 'wounds and bruises and putrefying sores' mark us all. If\nthe best of us could see himself for once, in the light of God, as the\nworst of us will see himself one day, the cry would come from the\npurest lips, 'Oh! wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from\nthe body of this death?'--this life in death that I carry, rotting and\nsmelling foul to Heaven, about with me, wheresoever I go.\n\nNote, further, this man's confidence in Christ's power: 'Thou canst\nmake me clean.' He had heard all about the miracles that were being\nwrought up and down over the country, and he came to the Worker, with\nnothing of the nature of religious faith in Him, but with entire\nconfidence, based upon the report of previous miracles, in Christ's\nability to heal. I do not suppose that in its nature it was very\ndifferent from the trust with which savages will crowd round a\ntraveller who has a medicine-chest with him, and expect to be cured of\ntheir diseases. But still it was real confidence in our Lord's power\nto heal. As a rule, though not without exceptions, He required (we may\nperhaps say He needed) such confidence as a condition of His\nmiracle-working power.\n\nIf we turn from the emblem to the thing signified, from the leprosy of\nthe body to that of the spirit, we may be sure of Christ's omnipotent\nability to cleanse from the extremest severity of the disease, however\ninveterate and chronic it may have become. Sin dominates men by two\nopposite lies. I have said how hard it is to get people's consciences\nawakened to see the facts of their moral and religious condition; but\nthen, when they are waked up, it is almost as hard to keep them from\nthe other extreme. The devil, first of all, says to a man, 'It is only\na little sin. Do it; you will be none the worse. You can give it up\nwhen you like, you know. That is the language before the act.\nAfterwards, his language is, first, 'You have done no harm, never mind\nwhat people say about sin. Make yourself comfortable,' and then, when\nthat lie wears itself out, the mask is dropped, and this is what is\nsaid: 'I have got you now, and you cannot get away. Done is done! What\nthou hast written thou hast written; and neither thou nor anybody else\ncan blot it out.' Hence the despair into which awakened consciences\nare apt to drop, and the feeling, which dogs the sense of evil like a\nspectre, of the hopelessness of all attempts to make oneself better.\nBrethren, they are both lies; the lie that we are pure is the first;\nthe lie that we are too black to be purified is the second. 'If we say\nthat we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and make God a liar,' but if\nwe say, as some of us, when once our consciences are stirred, are but\ntoo apt to say, 'We have sinned, and it cleaves to us for ever,' we\ndeceive ourselves still worse, and still more darkly and doggedly\ncontradict the sure word of God. Christ's blood atones for all past\nsin, and has power to bring forgiveness to every one. Christ's vital\nSpirit will enter into any heart, and, abiding there, has power to\nmake the foulest clean.\n\nNote, again, the leper's hesitation. 'If Thou wilt'--he had no right\nto presume on Christ's good will. He knew nothing about the principles\nupon which His miracles were wrought and His mercy extended. He\nsupposed, no doubt, as he was bound to suppose, in the absence of any\nplain knowledge, that it was a mere matter of accident, of caprice, of\nmomentary inclination and good nature, to whom the gift of healing\nshould come. And so he draws near with the modest 'If Thou wilt'; not\npretending to know more than he knew, or to have a claim which he had\nnot. But his hesitation is quite as much entreaty as hesitation. What\ndo we mean when we say about a man, 'He can do it, if he likes,' but\nto imply that it is so easy to do it, that it would be cruel not to do\nit? And so, when the leper said, 'If Thou wilt, Thou canst,' he meant,\n'There is no obstacle standing between me and health but Thy will, and\nsurely it cannot be Thy will to leave me in this life in death.' He,\nas it were, throws the responsibility for his health or disease upon\nChrist's shoulders, and thereby makes the strongest appeal to that\nloving heart.\n\nWe stand on another level. The leper's hesitation is our certainty. We\nknow the principle upon which His mercy is dispensed; we know that it\nis a universal, all-embracing love; we know that no caprice nor\npassing spasm of good nature lies at the bottom of it. We know that if\nany men are not healed, it is not because Christ will not, but because\nthey will not. If ever there springs in our hearts the dark doubt 'If\nThou wilt,' which was innocent in this man in the twilight of his\nknowledge, but is wrong in us in the full noontide of ours, we ought\nto be able to banish it at once, and to lay none of the responsibility\nof our continuing unhealed on Christ, but all on ourselves. He has\nlaid it there, when He lamented, 'How often would I--and ye would\nnot!' Nothing can be more in accordance with the will of God, of which\nJesus Christ is the embodiment, than to deliver men from sin, which is\nthe opposite of His will.\n\nII. Notice, secondly, the Lord's answer.\n\nMark's record of this incident puts the miracle in very small compass,\nand dilates rather upon the attitude and mind of Jesus Christ\npreparatory to it. As if, apart altogether from the supernatural\nelement and the lessons that are to be drawn from it, it was worth our\nwhile to ponder, for the gladdening of our hearts and the\nstrengthening of our hopes, that lovely picture of sheer simple\ncompassion and tender-heartedness. 'Jesus, _moved with compassion_'--a\nclause which occurs only in Mark's account--'put forth His hand and\ntouched him, and said, I will; be thou clean.' Note, then, three\nthings--the compassion, the touch, the word.\n\nAs to the first, is it not a precious boon for us, in the midst of our\nmany wearinesses and sorrows and sicknesses, to have that picture of\nJesus Christ bending over the leper, and sending, as it were, a gush\nof pitying love from His heart to flood away all his miseries? It is a\ntrue revelation of the heart of Jesus Christ. Simple pity is its very\ncore. That pity is eternal, and subsists as He sits in the calm of the\nheavens, even as it was manifest whilst He sat teaching in the humble\nhouse in Galilee. For 'we have not a High Priest which cannot be\ntouched with a feeling of our infirmities.' The pitying Christ is near\nus all. Nor let us forget that it is this swift shoot of pity which\nunderlies all that follows--the touch, the word, and the cure. Christ\ndoes not wait to be moved by the prayers that come from these leprous\nlips, but He is moved by the leprous lips themselves. The sight of the\nman affects His pitying heart, which sets in motion all the wheels of\nHis healing powers. So we may learn that the impulse to which His\nredeeming activity owes its origin wells up from His own heart. Show\nHim sorrow, and He answers it by a pity of such a sort that it is\nrestless till it helps and assuages. We may rise higher. The pity of\nJesus Christ is the summit of His revelation of the Father, and,\nlooking upon that gentle heart, into whose depths we can see as\nthrough a little window by these words of my text, we must stand with\nhushed reverence as beholding not only the compassion of the Man, but\ntherein manifested the pity of the God who, 'Like as a father pitieth\nhis children, pitieth them that fear Him,' and pities yet more the\nmore miserable men who fear and love Him not. The Christian's God is\nno impassive Being, indifferent to mankind, but 'One who in all our\nafflictions is afflicted, and, in His love and in His pity,' redeems\nand bears and carries.\n\nNote, still further, the Lord's touch. With swift obedience to the\nimpulse of His pity, Christ thrusts forth His hand and touches the\nleper. There was much in that touch, but whatever more we may see in\nit, we should not be blind to the loving humanity of the act. Remember\nthat the man kneeling there had felt no touch of a hand for years;\nthat the very kisses of his own children and his wife's embrace of\nlove were denied him. And now Jesus puts out His hand, and, without\nthinking of Mosaic restrictions and ceremonial prohibitions, yields to\nthe impulse of His pity, and gives assurance of His sympathy and His\nbrotherhood, as He lays His pure fingers upon the rotting ulcers. All\nmen that help their fellows must be contented thus to identify\nthemselves with them and to take them by the hand, if they would seek\nto deliver them from their evils.\n\nRemember, too, that according to the Mosaic law it was forbidden to\nany but the priest to touch a leper. Therefore, in this act, beautiful\nas it is in its uncalculated humanity, there may have been something\nintended of a deeper kind. Our Lord thereby does one of two\nthings--either He asserts His authority as overriding that of Moses\nand all his regulations, or He asserts His sacerdotal character.\nEither way there is a great claim in the act.\n\nFurther, we may take that touch of Christ's as being a parable of His\nwhole work. It was a piece of wonderful sympathy and condescension\nthat He should put out His hand to touch the leper; but it was the\nresult of a far greater and more wonderful piece of sympathy and\ncondescension that He had a hand to touch him with. For the 'sweet\nhuman hands and lips and eyes' which He wore in this world were\nassumed by Him in order that He might make Himself one with all\nsufferers and bear the burden of all their sins. So His touch of the\nleper symbolises His identifying of Himself with mankind, the foulest\nand the most degraded; and in this connection there is a profound\nmeaning in one of the ordinarily trivial legends of the Rabbis, who,\nfounding upon a word of the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, tell us\nthat when Messias comes He will be found sitting amongst the lepers at\nthe gate of the city. So He was numbered amongst the transgressors in\nHis life, and 'with the wicked in His death.' He touches, and,\ntouching, contracts no impurity, cleansing as the sunlight and the\nfire do, by burning up the impurity, and not by receiving it into\nHimself.\n\nNote the Lord's word, 'I will; be thou clean.' It is shaped,\nconvolution for convolution, so to speak, to match the man's prayer.\nHe ever moulds His response according to the feebleness and\nimperfection of the petitioner's faith. But, at the same time, what a\nring of autocratic authority and conscious sovereignty there is in the\nbrief, calm, imperative word, 'I will; be thou clean!' He accepts the\nleper's ascription of power; He claims to work the miracle by His own\nwill, and therein He is either guilty of what comes very near arrogant\nblasphemy, or He is rightly claiming for Himself a divine prerogative.\nIf His word can tell as a force on material things, what is the\nconclusion? He who 'spake and it was done' is Almighty and Divine.\n\nIII. Lastly, note the immediate cure.\n\nMark tells, with his favourite word 'straightway,' how as soon as\nChrist had spoken, the leprosy departed from the leper. And to turn\nfrom the symbol to the fact, the same sudden and complete cleansing is\npossible for us. Our cleansing from sin must depend upon the present\nlove and present power of Jesus Christ. On account of Christ's\nsacrifice, whose efficacy is eternal and lies at the foundation of all\nour blessedness and our purity until the heavens shall be no more, we\nare forgiven our sins and our guilt is taken away. By the present\nindwelling of that cleansing Spirit of the ever-living Christ, which\nwill be given to us each if we seek it, we are cleansed day by day\nfrom our evil. 'The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin,' not\nonly when shed as propitiatory, but when applied as sanctifying. We\nmust come to Christ, and there must be a real living contact between\nus and Him through our faith, if we are to possess either the\nforgiveness or the cleansing which are wrapped up inseparable in His\ngift.\n\nFurther, the suddenness of this cure and its completeness may be\nreproduced in us. People tell us that to believe in sudden conversion\nis fanatical. This is not the place to argue that question. It seems\nto me that such suddenness is in accordance with analogy. And I, for\nmy part, preach with full belief and in the hope that the words may\nnot be spoken altogether in vain to every man, woman, and child\nlistening to me, irrespective of their condition, character, and past,\nthat there is no reason why they should not go to Him straightway; no\nreason why He should not put out His hand straightway and touch them;\nno reason why their leprosy should not pass from them straightway, and\nthey lie down to sleep to-night 'accepted in the Beloved' and cleansed\nin Him. Trust Him and He will do it.\n\nOnly remember, it was of no use to the leper that crowds had been\nhealed, that floods of blessing had been poured over the land. What he\nwanted was that a rill should come and refresh his own lips. If you\nwish to have Christ's cleansing you must make personal work of it, and\ncome with this prayer, 'On _me_ be all that cleansing shown!' You do\nnot need to go to Him with an 'If' nor a prayer, for His gift has not\nwaited for our asking, and He has anticipated us by coming with\nhealing in His wings. The parts are reversed, and He prays you to\nreceive the gift, and stands before each of us with the gentle\nremonstrance upon His lips, 'Why will ye die when I am here ready to\ncure you?' Take Him at His word, for He offers to us all, whether we\ndesire it or no, the cleansing which we need. Take Him at His word,\ntrust Him wholly, trust to His death for forgiveness, to His\nsanctifying Spirit for cleansing, and 'straightway' your 'leprosy will\ndepart from you,' and your flesh shall become like the flesh of a\nlittle child, and you shall be clean.\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S TOUCH\n\n\n'Jesus put forth His hand, and touched him.'--Mark i. 41.\n\nBehold the servant of the Lord' might be the motto of this Gospel, and\n'He went about doing good and healing' the summing up of its facts. We\nhave in it comparatively few of our Lord's discourses, none of His\nlonger, and not very many of His briefer ones. It contains but four\nparables. This Evangelist gives no miraculous birth as in Matthew, no\nangels adoring there as in Luke, no gazing into the secrets of\nEternity, where the Word who afterwards became flesh dwelt in the\nbosom of the Father, as in John. He begins with a brief reference to\nthe Forerunner, and then plunges into the story of Christ's life of\nservice to man and service for God.\n\nIn carrying out his conception the Evangelist omits many things found\nin the other Gospels, which involve the idea of dignity and dominion,\nwhile he adds to the incidents which he has in common with them not a\nfew fine and subtle touches to heighten the impression of our Lord's\ntoil and eagerness in His patient, loving service. Perhaps it may be\nan instance of this that we find more prominence given to our Lord's\ntouch as connected with His miracles than in the other Gospels, or\nperhaps it may merely be an instance of the vivid portraiture, the\nresult of a keen eye for externals, which is so marked a\ncharacteristic of this gospel. Whatever the reason, the fact is plain,\nthat Mark delights to dwell on Christ's touch. The instances are\nthese--first, He puts out His hand, and 'lifts up' Peter's wife's\nmother, and immediately the fever leaves her (i. 31); then, unrepelled\nby the foul disease, He lays His pure hand upon the leper, and the\nliving mass of corruption is healed (i. 41); again, He lays His hand\non the clammy marble of the dead child's forehead, and she lives (v.\n41). Further, we have the incidental statement that He was so hindered\nin His mighty works by unbelief that He could only lay His hands on a\nfew sick folk and heal them (vi. 5). We find next two remarkable\nincidents, peculiar to Mark, both like each other and unlike our\nLord's other miracles. One is the gradual healing of that deaf and\ndumb man whom Christ took apart from the crowd, laid His hands on him,\nthrust His fingers into his ears as if He would clear some impediment,\ntouched his tongue with saliva, said to him, 'Be opened'; and the man\ncould hear (vii. 34). The other is, the gradual healing of a blind man\nwhom our Lord again leads apart from the crowd, takes by the hand,\nlays His own kind hands upon the poor, sightless eyeballs, and with\nsingular slowness of progress effects a cure, not by a leap and a\nbound as He generally does, but by steps and stages; tries it once and\nfinds partial success, has to apply the curative process again, and\nthen the man can see (viii. 23). In addition to these instances there\nare two other incidents which may also be adduced. It is Mark alone\nwho records for us the fact that He took little children in His arms,\nand blessed them. And it is Mark alone who records for us the fact\nthat when He came down from the Mount of Transfiguration He laid His\nhand upon the demoniac boy, writhing in the grip of his tormentor, and\nlifted him up.\n\nThere is much taught us, if we will patiently consider it, by that\ntouch of Christ's, and I wish to try to bring out its meaning and\npower.\n\nI. Whatever diviner and sacreder aspect there may be in these\nincidents, the first thing, and in some senses the most precious\nthing, in them is that they are the natural expression of a truly\nhuman tenderness and compassion.\n\nNow we are so accustomed, and as I believe quite rightly, to look at\nall Christ's life down to its minutest events as intended to be a\nrevelation of God, that we are sometimes apt to think about it as if\nHis motive and purpose in everything was didactic. So an unreality\ncreeps over our conceptions of Christ's life, and we need to be\nreminded that He was not always acting and speaking in order to convey\ninstruction, but that words and deeds were drawn from Him by the play\nof simple human feelings. He pitied not only in order to teach us the\nheart of God, but because His own man's heart was touched with a\nfeeling of men's infirmities. We are too apt to think of Him as posing\nbefore men with the intent of giving the great revelation of the Love\nof God. It is the love of Christ Himself, spontaneous, instinctive,\nwithout the thought of anything but the suffering that it sees, which\ngushes out and leads Him to put forth His hand to the outcast beggars,\nthe blind, the deaf, the lepers. That is the first great lesson we\nhave to learn from this and other stories--the swift human sympathy\nand heart of grace and tenderness which Jesus Christ had for all human\nsuffering, and has to-day as truly as ever.\n\nThere is more than this instinctive sympathy taught by Christ's touch,\nbut it is distinctly taught. How beautifully that comes out in the\nstory of the leper! That wretched man had long dwelt in his isolation.\nThe touch of a friend's hand or the kiss of loving lips had been long\ndenied him. Christ looks on him, and before He reflects, the\nspontaneous impulse of pity breaks through the barriers of legal\nprohibitions and of natural repugnance, and leads Him to lay His holy\nand healing hand on his foulness.\n\nTrue pity always instinctively leads us to seek to come near those who\nare its objects. A man tells his friend some sad story of his\nsufferings, and while he speaks, unconsciously his listener lays his\nhand on his arm, and, by a silent pressure, speaks his sympathy. So\nChrist did with these men--not only in order that He might reveal God\nto us, but because He was a man, and therefore felt ere He thought.\nOut flashed from His heart the swift sympathy, followed by the tender\npressure of the loving hand--a hand that tried through flesh to reach\nspirit, and come near the sufferer that it might succour and remove\nthe sorrow.\n\nChrist's pity is shown by His touch to have this true characteristic\nof true pity, that it overcomes disgust. All real sympathy does that.\nChrist is not turned away by the shining whiteness of the leprosy, nor\nby the eating pestilence beneath it; He is not turned away by the\nclammy marble hand of the poor dead maiden, nor by the fevered skin of\nthe old woman gasping on her pallet. He lays hold on each, the flushed\npatient, the loathsome leper, the sacred dead, with the all-equalising\ntouch of a universal love and pity, which disregards all that is\nrepellent, and overflows every barrier and pours itself over every\nsufferer. We have the same pity of the same Christ to trust to and to\nlay hold of to-day. He is high above us and yet bending over us;\nstretching His hand from the throne as truly as He put it out when\nhere on earth; and ready to take us all to His heart in spite of our\nweakness and wickedness, our failings and our shortcomings, the fever\nof our flesh and hearts' desires, the leprosy of our many corruptions,\nand the death of our sins,--and to hold us ever in the strong, gentle\nclasp of His divine, omnipotent, and tender hand. This Christ lays\nhold on us because He loves us, and will not be turned from His\ncompassion by the most loathsome foulness of ours.\n\nII. And now take another point of view from which we may regard this\ntouch of Christ: namely, as the medium of His miraculous power.\n\nThere is nothing to me more remarkable about the miracles of our Lord\nthan the royal variety of His methods of healing. Sometimes He works\nat a distance, sometimes He requires, as it would appear for good\nreasons, the proximity of the person to be blessed. Sometimes He works\nby a simple word: 'Lazarus, come forth!' 'Peace be still!' 'Come out\nof him!' sometimes by a word and a touch, as in the instances before\nus; sometimes by a touch without a word; sometimes by a word and a\ntouch and a vehicle, as in the saliva that was put on the tongue and\nin the ears of the deaf, and on the eyes of the blind; sometimes by a\nvehicle without a word, without a touch, without His presence, as when\nHe said, 'Go wash in the pool of Siloam, and he washed and was clean.'\nSo the divine worker varies infinitely and at pleasure, yet not\narbitrarily but for profound, even if not always discoverable,\nreasons, the methods of His miracle-working power, in order that we\nmay learn by these varieties of ways that He is tied to no way; and\nthat His hand, strong and almighty, uses methods and tosses aside\nmethods according to His pleasure, the methods being vitalised when\nthey are used by His will, and being nothing at all in themselves.\n\nThe very variety of His methods, then, teaches us that the true cause\nin every case is His own bare will. A simple word is the highest and\nmost adequate expression of that will. His word is all-powerful: and\nthat is the very signature of divinity. Of whom has it been true from\nof old that 'He spake and it was done, He commanded and it stood\nfast'? Do you believe in a Christ whose bare will, thrown among\nmaterial things, makes them all plastic, as clay in the potter's\nhands, whose mouth rebukes the demons and they flee, rebukes death and\nit looses its grasp, rebukes the tempest and there is a calm, rebukes\ndisease and there comes health?\n\nBut this use of Christ's touch as apparent means for conveying His\nmiraculous power also serves as an illustration of a principle which\nis exemplified in all His revelation, namely, the employment in\ncondescension to men's weakness, of outward means as the apparent\nvehicles of His spiritual power. Just as by the material vehicle\nsometimes employed for cure, He gave these poor sense-bound natures a\nladder by which their faith in His healing power might climb, so in\nthe manner of His revelation and communication of His spiritual gifts,\nthere is provision for the wants of us men, who ever need some body\nfor spirit to make itself manifest by, some form for the ethereal\nreality, some 'tabernacle' for the 'sun.' 'Sacraments,' outward\nceremonies, forms of worship, are vehicles which the Divine Spirit\nuses in order to bring His gifts to the hearts and the minds of men.\nThey are like the touch of the Christ which heals, not by any virtue\nin itself, apart from His will which chooses to make it the apparent\nmedium of healing. All these externals are nothing, as the pipes of an\norgan are nothing, until His breath is breathed through them, and then\nthe flood of sweet sound pours out.\n\nDo not despise the material vehicles and the outward helps which\nChrist uses for the communication of His healing and His life, but\nremember that the help that is done upon earth, He does it all\nHimself. Even Christ's touch is nothing, if it were not for His own\nwill which flows through it.\n\nIII. Consider Christ's touch as a shadow and symbol of the very heart\nof His work.\n\nGo back to the past history of this man. Ever since his disease\ndeclared itself no human being had touched him. If he had a wife he\nhad been separated from her; if he had children their lips had never\nkissed his, nor their little hands found their way into his hard palm.\nAlone he had been walking with the plague-cloth over his face, and the\ncry 'Unclean!' on his lips, lest any man should come near him.\nSkulking in his isolation, how he must have hungered for the touch of\na hand! Every Jew was forbidden to approach him but the priest, who,\nif he were cured, might pass his hand over the place and pronounce him\nclean. And here comes a Man who breaks down all the restrictions,\nstretches a frank hand out across the walls of separation, and touches\nhim. What a reviving assurance of love not yet dead must have come to\nthe man as Christ grasped his hand, even if he saw in Him only a\nstranger who was not afraid of him and did not turn from him!\n\nBut beside this thrill of human sympathy, which came hope--bringing to\nthe leper, Christ's touch had much significance, if we remember that,\naccording to the Mosaic legislation, the priest and the priest alone\nwas to lay his hands on the tainted skin and pronounce the leper\nwhole. So Christ's touch was a priest's touch. He lays His hand on\ncorruption and is not tainted. The corruption with which He comes in\ncontact becomes purity. Are not these really the profoundest truths as\nto His whole work in the world? What is it all but laying hold of the\nleper and the outcast and the dead--His sympathy leading to His\nidentification of Himself with us in our weakness and misery?\n\nThat sympathetic life-bringing touch is put forth once for all in His\nIncarnation and Death. 'He taketh hold of the seed of Abraham,' says\nthe Epistle to the Hebrews, looking at our Lord's work under this same\nmetaphor, and explaining that His laying hold of men was His being\n'made in all points like unto His brethren.' Just as he took hold of\nthe fevered woman and lifted her from her bed; or, as He thrust His\nfingers into the deaf ears of that poor man stopped by some\nimpediment, so, in analogous fashion, He becomes one of those whom He\nwould save and help. In His assumption of humanity and in His bowing\nof His head to death, we behold Him laying hold of our weakness and\nentering into the fellowship of our pains and of the fruit of sin.\n\nJust as He touches the leper and in unpolluted, or the fever patient\nand receives no contagion, or the dead and draws no chill of mortality\ninto His warm hand, so He becomes like His brethren in all things, yet\nwithout sin. Being found in 'the likeness of sinful flesh,' He knows\nno sin, but wears His manhood unpolluted and dwells among men\n'blameless and harmless, the Son of God, without rebuke.' Like a\nsunbeam passing through foul water untarnished and unstained; or like\nsome sweet spring rising in the midst of the salt sea, which yet\nretains its freshness and pours it over the surrounding bitterness, so\nChrist takes upon Himself our nature and lays hold of our stained\nhands with the hand that continues pure while it grasps us, and will\nmake us purer if we grasp it.\n\nBrethren, let your touch answer to His; and as He lays hold of us, in\nHis incarnation and His death, let the hand of our faith clasp His\noutstretched hand, and though our hold be as faltering and feeble as\nthat of the trembling, wasted fingers which one timid woman once laid\non His garment's hem, the blessing which we need will flow into our\nveins from the contact. There will be cleansing for our leprosy, sight\nfor our blindness, life driving out death from its throne in our\nhearts, and we shall be able to recount our joyful experience in the\nold Psalmist's triumphant strains--'He sent me from above, He laid\nhold upon me, He drew me out of many waters.'\n\nIV. Finally, we may look upon these incidents as being in a very\nimportant sense a pattern for us.\n\nNo good is to be done by any man to his fellows except at the cost of\ntrue sympathy which leads to identification and contact. The literal\ntouch of your hand would do more good to some poor outcasts than much\nsolemn advice, or even much material help flung to them as from a\nheight above them. A shake of the hand might be more of a means of\ngrace than a sermon, and more comforting than ever so many free\nbreakfasts and blankets given superciliously.\n\nAnd, symbolically, we may say that we must be willing to take those by\nthe hand whom we wish to help; that is to say, we must come down to\ntheir level, try to see with their eyes, and to think their thoughts,\nand let them feel that we do not think our purity too fine to come\nbeside their filth, nor shrink from them With repugnance, however we\nmay show disapproval and pity for their sin. Much work done by\nChristian people has no effect, nor ever will have, because it has\npeeping through it a poorly concealed 'I am holier than thou.' An\ninstinctive movement of repugnance has ruined many a well-meant\neffort.\n\nChrist has come down to us, and has taken all our nature upon Himself.\nIf there is an outcast and abandoned soul on earth which may not feel\nthat Jesus has laid a loving and healing touch on him, Jesus is not\nthe Saviour for the world. He shrinks from none, He unites Himself\nwith all, therefore 'He is able to save to the uttermost all who come\nunto God by Him.' His conduct is the pattern and the law for us. A\nChurch is a poor affair if it is not a body of people whose experience\nof Christ's pity and gratitude for the life which has become theirs\nthrough His wondrous making Himself one with them, compels them to do\nthe like in their degree for the sinful and the outcast. Thank God,\nthere are many in every communion who know that constraint of the love\nof Christ. But the world will not be healed of its sickness till the\ngreat body of Christian people awakes to feel that the task and honour\nof each of them is to go forth bearing Christ's pity certified by\ntheir own.\n\nThe sins of professing Christian countries are largely to be laid at\nthe door of the Church. We are idle when we ought to be at work. We\n'pass by on the other side' when bleeding brethren lie with wounds\ngaping to be bound up by us. And even when we are moved to service by\nChrist's love, and try to do something for our fellows, our work is\noften tainted by a sense of our own superiority, and we patronise when\nwe should sympathise, and lecture when we should beseech.\n\nWe must be content to take lepers by the hand, if we would help them\nto purity, and to let every outcast feel the warmth of our pitying,\nloving grasp, if we would draw them into the forsaken Father's House.\nLay your hands on the sinful as Christ did, and they will recover. All\nyour holiness and hope come from Christ's laying hold of you. Keep\nhold of Him, and make His great pity and loving identification of\nHimself with the world of sinners and sufferers, your pattern as well\nas your hope, and your touch, too, will have virtue. Keeping hold of\nHim who has taken hold of us, you too may be able to say, 'Ephphatha,\nbe opened,' or to lay your hand on the leper, and he will be cleansed.\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S AUTHORITY TO FORGIVE\n\n\n'And again He entered into Capernaum after some days; and it was\nnoised that He was in the house. 2. And straightway many were gathered\ntogether, insomuch that there was no room to receive them, no, not so\nmuch as about the door; and He preached the word unto them. 3. And\nthey come unto Him, bringing one sick of the palsy, which was borne of\nfour. 4. And when they could not come nigh unto Him for the press,\nthey uncovered the roof where He was: and when they had broken it up,\nthey let down the bed wherein the sick of the palsy lay. 6. When Jesus\nsaw their faith, He said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, thy sins be\nforgiven thee. 6. But there were certain of the scribes sitting there,\nand reasoning in their hearts, 7. Why doth this man thus speak\nblasphemies! who can forgive sins but God only! 8. And immediately\nwhen Jesus perceived in His spirit that they so reasoned within\nthemselves, He said unto them, Why reason ye these things in your\nhearts? 9. Whether is it easier to say to the sick of the palsy, Thy\nsins be forgiven thee; or to say, Arise, and take up thy bed, and\nwalk! 10. But that ye may know that the Son of Man hath power on earth\nto forgive sins, (He saith to the sick of the palsy,) 11. I say unto\nthee, Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house. 12.\nAnd immediately he arose, took up the bed, and went forth before them\nall; insomuch that they were all amazed, and glorified God, laying, We\nnever saw it on this fashion.'--Mark ii. 1-12.\n\n\nMark alone gives Capernaum as the scene of this miracle. The\nexcitement which had induced our Lord to leave that place had been\nallowed 'some days' to quiet down, 'after' which He ventures to\nreturn, but does not seem to have sought publicity, but to have\nremained in 'the house'--probably Peter's. There would be at least one\nwoman's heart there, which would love to lavish grateful service on\nHim. But 'He could not be hid,' and, however little genuine or deep\nthe eagerness might be, He will not refuse to meet it. Mark paints\nvividly the crowd flocking to the humble home, overflowing its modest\ncapacity, blocking the doorway, and clustering round it outside as far\nas they could hear Christ's voice. 'He was speaking the word to them,'\nproclaiming His mission, as He had done in their synagogue, when He\nwas interrupted by the events which follow, no doubt to the\ngratification of some of His hearers, who wanted something more\nexciting than 'teaching.'\n\nI. We note the eager group of interrupters. Mark gives one of the\nminute touches which betray an eye-witness and a close observer when\nhe tells us that the palsied man was carried by four friends--no doubt\none at each corner of the bed, which would be some light framework, or\neven a mere quilt or mattress. The incident is told from the point of\nview of one sitting beside Jesus; they 'come to Him,' but 'cannot come\nnear.' The accurate specification of the process of removing the roof,\nwhich Matthew omits altogether, and Luke tells much more vaguely,\nseems also to point to an eye-witness as the source of the narrative,\nwho would, of course, be Peter, who well remembered all the steps of\nthe unceremonious treatment of his property. His house was, probably,\none of no great pretensions or size, but like hundreds of poor men's\nhouses in Palestine still--a one-storied building with a low, flat\nroof, mostly earthen, and easily reached from the ground by an outside\nstair. It would be somewhat difficult to get a sick man and his bed up\nthere, however low, and somewhat free-and-easy dealing with another\nman's house to burrow through the roof a hole wide enough for the\npurpose; but there is no impossibility, and the difficulty is part of\nthe lesson of the incident, and is recognised expressly in the\nnarrative by Christ's notice of their 'faith.' We can fancy the blank\nlooks of the four bearers, and the disappointment on the sick man's\nthin face and weary eyes, as they got to the edge of the crowd, and\nsaw that there was no hope of forcing a passage. Had they been less\ncertain of a cure, and less eager, they would have shouldered their\nburden and carried him home again. They could well have pleaded\nsufficient reason for giving up the attempt. But 'we cannot' is the\ncoward's word. 'We must' is the earnest man's. If we have any real\nconsciousness of our need to get to Christ, and any real wish to do\nso, it is not a crowd round the door that will keep us back.\nDifficulties test, and therefore increase, faith. They develop a\nsanctified ingenuity in getting over them, and bring a rich harvest of\nsatisfaction when at last conquered. These four eager faces looked\ndown through the broken roof, when they had succeeded in dropping the\nbed right at Christ's feet, with a far keener pleasure than if they\nhad just carried him in by the door. No doubt their act was\ninconvenient; for, however light the roofing, some rubbish must have\ncome down on the heads of some of the notabilities below. And, no\ndoubt, it was interfering with property as well as with propriety. But\nhere was a sick man, and there was his Healer; and it was their\nbusiness to get the two together somehow. It was worth risking a good\ndeal to accomplish. The rabbis sitting there might frown at rude\nintrusiveness; Peter might object to the damage to his roof; some of\nthe listeners might dislike the interruption to His teaching; but\nJesus read the action of the bearers and the consent of the motionless\nfigure on the couch as the indication of 'their faith,' and His love\nand power responded to its call.\n\nII. Note the unexpected gift with which Christ answers this faith.\nNeither the bearers nor the paralytic speak a word throughout the\nwhole incident. Their act and his condition spoke loudly enough.\nObviously, all five must have had, at all events, so much 'faith' as\nwent to the conviction that He could and would heal; and this faith is\nthe occasion of Christ's gift. The bearers had it, as is shown by\ntheir work. It was a visible faith, manifest by conduct. He can see\nthe hidden heart; but here He looks upon conduct, and thence infers\ndisposition. Faith, if worth anything, comes to the surface in act.\nWas it the faith of the bearers, or of the sick man, which Christ\nrewarded? Both. As Abraham's intercession delivered Lot, as Paul in\nthe shipwreck was the occasion of safety to all the crew, so one man's\nfaith may bring blessings on another. But if the sick man too had not\nhad faith, he would not have let himself be brought at all, and would\ncertainly not have consented to reach Christ's presence by so strange\nand, to him, dangerous a way--being painfully hoisted up some narrow\nstair, and then perilously let down, at the risk of cords snapping, or\nhands letting go, or bed giving way. His faith, apparently, was deeper\nthan theirs; for Christ's answer, though it went far beyond his or\ntheir expectations, must have been moulded to meet his deepest sense\nof need. His heart speaks in the tender greeting 'son,' or, as the\nmargin has it, 'child'--possibly pointing to the man's youth, but more\nprobably an appellation revealing the mingled love and dignity of\nJesus, and taking this man into the arms of His sympathy. The palsy\nmay have been the consequence of 'fast' living; but, whether it were\nso or no, Christ saw that, in the dreary hours of solitary inaction to\nwhich it had condemned the sufferer, remorse had been busy gnawing at\nhis heart, and that pain had done its best work by leading to\npenitence. Therefore He spoke to the conscience before He touched the\nbodily ailment, and met the sufferer's deepest and most deeply felt\ndisease first. He goes to the bottom of the malady with His cure.\nThese great words are not only closely adapted to the one case before\nHim, but contain a general truth, worthy to be pondered by all\nphilanthropists. It is of little use to cure symptoms unless you cure\ndiseases. The tap-root of all misery is sin; and, until it is grubbed\nup, hacking at the branches is sad waste of time. Cure sin, and you\nmake the heart a temple and the world a paradise. We Christians should\nhail all efforts of every sort for making men nobler, happier, better\nphysically, morally, intellectually; but let us not forget that there\nis but one effectual cure for the world's misery, and that it is\nwrought by Him who has borne the world's sins.\n\nIII. Note the snarl of the scribes. 'Certain of the scribes,' says\nMark--not being much impressed by their dignity, which, as Luke tells\nus, was considerable. He says that they were 'Pharisees and doctors of\nthe law ... out of every village of Galilee and Judaea and Jerusalem\nitself, who had come on a formal errand of investigation. Their\ntempers would not be improved by the tearing up of the roof, nor\nsweetened by seeing the 'popularity' of this doubtful young Teacher,\nwho showed that He had the secret, which they had not, of winning\nmen's hearts. Nobody came crowding to them, nor hung on their lips.\nProfessional jealousy has often a great deal to do in helping zeal for\ntruth to sniff out heresy. The whispered cavillings are graphically\nrepresented. The scribes would not speak out, like men, and call on\nJesus to defend His words. If they had been sure of their ground, they\nshould have boldly charged Him with blasphemy; but perhaps they were\nhalf suspicious that He could show good cause for His speech. Perhaps\nthey were afraid to oppose the tide of enthusiasm for Him. So they\ncontent themselves with comparing notes among themselves, and wait for\nHim to entangle Himself a little more in their nets. They affect to\ndespise Him, 'This man' is spoken in contempt. If He were so poor a\ncreature, why were they there, all the way from Jerusalem, some of\nthem? They overdo their part. The short, snarling sentences of their\nmuttered objections, as given in the Revised Version, may be taken as\nshared among three speakers, each bringing his quota of bitterness.\nOne says, 'Why doth He thus speak?' Another curtly answers, 'He\nblasphemeth'; while a third formally states the great truth on which\nthey rest their indictment. Their principle is impregnable.\nForgiveness is a divine prerogative, to be shared by none, to be\ngrasped by none, without, in the act, diminishing God's glory. But it\nis not enough to have one premise of your syllogism right. Only God\nforgives sins; and if this man says that He does, He, no doubt, claims\nto be, in some sense, God. But whether He 'blasphemeth' or no depends\non what the scribes do not stay to ask; namely, whether He has the\nright so to claim: and, if He has, it is they, not He, who are the\nblasphemers. We need not wonder that they recoiled from the right\nconclusion, which is--the divinity of Jesus. Their fault was not their\njealousy for the divine honour, but their inattention to Christ's\nevidence in support of His claims, which inattention had its roots in\ntheir moral condition, their self-sufficiency and absorption in\ntrivialities of externalism. But we have to thank them for clearly\ndiscerning and bluntly stating what was involved in our Lord's claims,\nand for thus bringing up the sharp issue--blasphemer, or 'God manifest\nin the flesh.'\n\nIV. Note our Lord's answer to the cavils. Mark would have us see\nsomething supernatural in the swiftness of Christ's knowledge of the\nmuttered criticisms. He perceived it 'straightway' and 'in His\nspirit,' which is tantamount to saying by divine discernment, and not\nby the medium of sense, as we do. His spirit was a mirror, in which\nlooking He saw externals. In the most literal and deepest sense, He\ndoes 'not judge after the sight of His eyes, neither reprove after the\nhearing of His ears.'\n\nThe absence from our Lord's answer of any explanation that He was only\ndeclaring the divine forgiveness and not Himself exercising a divine\nprerogative, shuts us up to the conclusion that He desired to be\nunderstood as exercising it. Unless His pardon is something quite\ndifferent from the ministerial announcement of forgiveness, which His\nservants are empowered to make to penitents, He wilfully led the\ncavillers into error. His answer starts with a counter-question--another\n'why?' to meet their' why?' It then puts into words what they\nwere thinking; namely, that it was easy to assume a power the reality\nof which could not be tested. To say, 'Thy sins be forgiven,' and to\nsay, 'Take up thy bed,' are equally easy. To effect either is equally\nbeyond man's power; but the one can be verified and the other cannot,\nand, no doubt, some of the scribes were maliciously saying: 'It is all\nvery well to pretend to do what cannot be tested. Let Him come out\ninto daylight, and do a miracle which we can see.' He is quite willing\nto accept the challenge to test His power in the invisible realm of\nconscience by His power in the visible region. The remarkable\nconstruction of the long sentence in verses 10 and 11, which is almost\nverbally identical in the three Gospels, parenthesis and all, sets\nbefore us the suddenness of the turn from the scribes to the patient\nwith dramatic force. Mark that our Lord claims 'authority' to forgive,\nthe same word which had been twice in the people's mouths in reference\nto His teaching and to His sway over demons. It implies not only\npower, but rightful power, and that authority which He wields as 'Son\nof Man' and 'on earth.' This is the first use of that title in Mark.\nIt is Christ's own designation of Himself, never found on other lips\nexcept the dying Stephen's. It implies His Messianic office, and\npoints back to Daniel's great prophecy; but it also asserts His true\nmanhood and His unique relation to humanity, as being Himself its sum\nand perfection--not _a_, but _the_ Son of Man. Now the wonder which He\nwould confirm by His miracle is that such a manhood, walking on earth,\nhas lodged in it the divine prerogative. He who is the Son of Man must\nbe something more than man, even the Son of God. His power to forgive\nis both derived and inherent, but, in either aspect, is entirely\ndifferent from the human office of announcing God's forgiveness.\n\nFor once, Christ seems to work a miracle in response to unbelief,\nrather than to faith. But the real occasion of it was not the cavils\nof the scribes, but the faith and need of the man and His friends;\nwhile the silencing of unbelief, and the enlightenment of honest\ndoubt, were but collateral benefits.\n\nV. Note the cure and its effect. This is another of the miracles in\nwhich no vehicle of the healing power is employed. The word is enough;\nbut here the word is spoken, not as if to the disease, but to the\nsufferer; and in His obedience he receives strength to obey. Tell a\npalsied man to rise and walk when his disease is that he cannot! But\nif he believes that Christ has power to heal, he will try to do as he\nis bid; and, as he tries, the paralysis steals out of the long-unused\nlimbs. Jesus makes us able to do what He bids us do. The condition of\nhealing is faith, and the test of faith is obedience. We do not get\nstrength till we put ourselves into the attitude of obedience. The\ncure was immediate; and the cured man, who was 'borne of four' into\nthe healing presence, walked away, with his bed under his arm, 'before\nthem all.' They were ready enough to make way for him then. And what\nsaid the wise doctors to it all? We do not hear that any of them were\nconvinced. And what said the people? They were 'amazed,' and they\n'glorified God,' and recognised that they had seen something quite\nnew. That was all. Their glorifying God cannot have been very\ndeep-seated, or they would have better learned the lesson of the\nmiracle. Amazement was but a poor result. No emotion is more transient\nor less fruitful than gaping astonishment; and that, with a little\nvarnish of acknowledgment of God's power, which led to nothing, was\nall the fruit of Christ's mighty work. Let us hope that the healed man\ncarried his unseen blessing in a faithful and grateful heart, and\nconsecrated his restored strength to the Lord who healed him!\n\n\n\nTHE PUBLICANS' FRIEND\n\n\n'And He went forth again by the sea side; and all the multitude\nresorted unto Him, and He taught them. 14. And as He passed by, he saw\nLevi the son of Alph\u00e6us sitting at the receipt of custom, and said\nunto him, Follow me. And he arose and followed Him. 15. And it came to\npass, that, as Jesus sat at meat in his house, many publicans and\nsinners sat also together with Jesus and His disciples: for there were\nmany, and they followed Him. 16. And when the scribes and Pharisees\nsaw Him eat with publicans and sinners, they said unto His disciples,\nHow is it that He eateth and drinketh with publicans and sinners! 17.\nWhen Jesus heard it, He saith unto them, They that are whole have no\nneed of the physician, but they that are sick: I came not to call the\nrighteous, but sinners to repentance. 18. And the disciples of John\nand of the Pharisees used to fast: and they come and say unto Him, Why\ndo the disciples of John and of the Pharisees fast, but Thy disciples\nfast not! 19. And Jesus said unto them, Can the children of the\nbridechamber fast, while the bridegroom is with them! as long as they\nhave the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast. 20. But the days will\ncome, when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them, and then\nshall they fast in those days. 21. No man also seweth a piece of new\ncloth on an old garment: else the new piece that filled it up taketh\naway from the old, and the rent is made worse. 22. And no man putteth\nnew wine into old bottles: else the new wine doth burst the bottles,\nand the wine is spilled, and the bottles will be marred: but new wine\nmust be put into new bottles.'--Mark ii. 13-22.\n\nBy calling a publican, Jesus shocked 'public opinion and outraged\npropriety, as the Pharisees and scribes understood it. But He touched\nthe hearts of the outcasts. A gush of sympathy melts souls frozen hard\nby icy winds of scorn. Levi (otherwise Matthew) had probably had\nwistful longings after Jesus which he had not dared to show, and\ntherefore he eagerly and instantly responded to Christ's call, leaving\neverything in his custom-house to look after itself. Mark emphasises\nthe effect of this advance towards the disreputable classes by Jesus,\nin his repeated mention of the numbers of them who followed Him. The\nmeal in Matthew's house was probably not immediately after his call.\nThe large gathering attracted the notice of Christ's watchful\nopponents, who pounced upon His sitting at meat with such 'shady'\npeople as betraying His low tastes and disregard of seemly conduct,\nand, with characteristic Eastern freedom, pushed in as uninvited\nspectators. They did not carry their objection to Himself, but\ncovertly insinuated it into the disciples' minds, perhaps in hope of\nsowing suspicions there. Their sarcasm evoked Christ's own 'programme'\nof His mission, for which we have to thank them.\n\nI. We have, first, Christ's vindication of His consorting with the\nlowest. He thinks of Himself as 'a physician,' just as He did in\nanother connection in the synagogue of Nazareth. He is conscious of\npower to heal all soul-sickness, and therefore He goes where He is\nmost needed. Where should a doctor be but where disease is rife? Is\nnot his place in the hospital? Association with degraded and vicious\ncharacters is sin or duty, according to the purpose of it. To go down\nin the filth in order to wallow there is vile; to go down in order to\nlift others up is Christ's mission and Christ-like.\n\nBut what does He mean by the distinction between sick and sound,\nrighteous and sinners? Surely all need His healing, and there are not\ntwo classes of men. Have not all sinned? Yes, but Jesus speaks to the\ncavillers, for the moment, in their own dialect, saying, in effect, 'I\ntake you at your own valuation, and therein find My defence. You do\nnot think that you need a physician, and you call yourselves\n'righteous and these outcasts 'sinners.' So you should not be\nsurprised if I, being the healer, turn away to them, and prefer their\ncompany to yours.' But there is more than taking them at their own\nestimate in the great words, for to conceit ourselves 'whole' bars us\noff from getting any good from Jesus. He cannot come to the\nself-righteous heart. We must feel our sickness before we can see Him\nin His true character, or be blessed by His presence with us. And the\napparent distinction, which seems to limit His work, really vanishes\nin the fact that we all are sick and sinners, whatever we may think of\nourselves, and that, therefore, the errand of the great Physician is\nto us all. The Pharisee who knows himself a sinner is as welcome as\nthe outcast. The most outwardly respectable, clean-living, orthodoxly\nreligious formalist needs Him as much, and may have Him as healingly,\nas the grossest criminal, foul with the stench of loathsome disease.\nThat great saying has changed the attitude towards the degraded and\nunclean, and many a stream of pity and practical work for such has\nbeen drawn off from that Nile of yearning love, though all unconscious\nof its source.\n\nII. We have Christ's vindication of the disciples from ascetic\ncritics. The assailants in the second charge were reinforced by\nsingular allies. Pharisees had nothing in common with John's\ndisciples, except some outward observances, but they could join forces\nagainst Jesus. Common hatred is a wonderful unifier. This time Jesus\nHimself is addressed, and it is the disciples with whom fault is\nfound. To speak of His supposed faults to them, and of theirs to Him,\nwas cunning and cowardly. His answer opens up many great truths, which\nwe can barely mention.\n\nFirst, note that He calls Himself the 'bridegroom'--a designation\nwhich would surely touch some chords in John's disciples, remembering\nhow their Master had spoken of the 'bridegroom' and his 'friend.' The\nname tells us that Jesus claimed the psalms of the 'bride-groom' as\nprophecies of Himself, and claimed the Church that was to be as His\nbride. It speaks tenderly of His love and of our possible blessedness.\nNext, we note the sweet suggestion of the joyful life of the disciples\nin intercourse with Him. We perhaps do not sufficiently regard their\nexperience in that light, but surely they were happy, being ever with\nHim, though they knew not yet all the wonder and blessedness which His\npresence involved and brought. They were a glad company, and\nChristians ought now to be joyous, because the bridegroom is still\nwith them, and the more really so by reason of His ascending up where\nHe was before. We have seen Him again, as He promised, and our hearts\nshould rejoice with a joy which no man can take from us.\n\nNext, we note Christ's clear prevision of His death, the violence of\nwhich is hinted at in the words, 'Shall be taken away from them.'\nFurther, we note the great principle that outward forms must follow\ninward realities, and are genuine only when they are the expression of\nstates of mind and feeling. That is a far-reaching truth, ever being\nforgotten in the tyranny which the externals of religion exercise. Let\nthe free spirit have its own way, and cut its own channels. Laughter\nmay be as devout as fasting. Joy is to be expressed in religion as\nwell as grief. No outward form is worth anything unless the inner man\nvitalises it, and such a mere form is not simply valueless, but may\nquickly become hypocrisy and conscious make-believe.\n\nIII. Jesus adds two similes, which are condensed parables, to deal\nwith a wider question rising out of the preceding principles. The\ndifference between His disciples' religious demeanour and that of\ntheir critics is not merely that the former are not now in a mood for\nfasting, but that a new spirit is beginning to work in them, and\ntherefore it will go hard with a good many old forms besides fasting.\n\nThe essential point in both the similes of the raw cloth stitched on\nto the old, and of the new wine poured into stiff old skins, is the\nnecessary incongruity between old forms and new tendencies. Undressed\ncloth is sure to shrink when wetted, and, being stronger than the old,\nto draw its frayed edges away. So, if new truth, or new conceptions of\nold truth, or new enthusiasms, are patched on to old modes, they will\nlook out of place, and will sooner or later rend the old cloth. But\nthe second simile advances on the first, in that it points not only to\nharm done to the old by the unnatural marriage, but also to mischief\nto the new. Put fermenting wine into a hard, unyielding, old\nwine-skin, and there can be but one result,--the strong effervescence\nwill burst the skin, which may not matter much, and the precious wine\nwill run out and be lost, sucked up by the thirsty soil, which matters\nmore. The attempt to confine the new within the limits of the old, or\nto express it by the old forms, destroys them and wastes it. The\nattempt was made to keep Christianity within the limits of Judaism; it\nfailed, but not before much harm had been done to Christianity. Over\nand over again the effort has been made in the Church, and it has\nalways ended disastrously,--and it always will. It will be a happy day\nfor both the old and the new when we all learn to put new wine into\nnew skins, and remember that 'God giveth it a body as it hath pleased\nHim, and to every seed his _own_ body.'\n\n\n\nTHE SECRET OF GLADNESS\n\n\n'And Jesus said unto them, Can the children of the bridechamber fast,\nwhile the bridegroom is with them?'--Mark ii. 19.\n\nThis part of our Lord's answer to the question put by John's disciples\nas to the reason for the omission of the practice of fasting by His\nfollowers. The answer is very simple. It is--'My disciples do not fast\nbecause they are not sad.' And the principle which underlies the\nanswer is a very important one. It is this: that all outward forms of\nreligion, appointed by man, ought only to be observed when they\ncorrespond to the feeling and disposition of the worshipper. That\nprinciple cuts up all religious formalism by the very roots. The\nPharisee said: 'Fasting is a good thing in itself, and meritorious in\nthe sight of God.' The modern Pharisee says the same about many\nexternals of ritual and worship; Jesus Christ says, 'No! The thing has\nno value except as an expression of the feeling of the doer.' Our Lord\ndid not object to fasting; He expressly approved of it as a means of\nspiritual power. But He did object to the formal use of it or of any\noutward form. The formalist's form, whether it be the elaborate ritual\nof the Catholic Church, or the barest Nonconformist service, or the\nsilence of a Friends' meeting-house, is rigid, unbending, and cold,\nlike an iron rod. The true Christian form is elastic, like the stem of\na palm-tree, which curves and sways and yields to the wind, and has\nthe sap of life in it. If any man is sad, let him fast; 'if any man is\nmerry, let him sing psalms.' Let his ritual correspond to his\nspiritual emotion and conviction.\n\nBut the point which I wish to consider now is not so much this, as the\nrepresentation that is given here of the reason why fasting was\nincongruous with the condition and disposition of the disciples. Jesus\nsays: 'We are more like a wedding-party than anything else. Can the\nchildren of the bridechamber fast as long as the bridegroom is with\nthem?'\n\nThe 'children of the bridechamber' is but another name for those who\nwere called the 'friends' or companions 'of the bridegroom.' According\nto the Jewish wedding ceremonial it was their business to conduct the\nbride to the home of her husband, and there to spend seven days in\nfestivity and rejoicing, which were to be so entirely devoted to mirth\nand feasting that the companions of the bridegroom were by the\nTalmudic ritual absolved even from prayer and from worship, and had\nfor their one duty to rejoice.\n\nAnd that is the picture that Christ holds up before the disciples of\nthe ascetic John as the representation of what He and His friends were\nmost truly like. Very unlike our ordinary notion of Christ and His\ndisciples as they walked the earth! The presence of the Bridegroom\nmade them glad with a strange gladness, which shook off sorrow as the\ndown on a sea-bird's breast shakes off moisture, and leaves it warm\nand dry, though it floats amidst boundless seas. I wish now to\nmeditate on this secret of imperviousness to sorrow arising from the\nfelt presence of the Christ.\n\nThere are three subjects for consideration arising from the words of\nmy text: The Bridegroom; the presence of the Bridegroom; the joy of\nthe Bride-groom's presence.\n\nI. Now with regard to the first, a very few words will suffice. The\nfirst thing that strikes me is the singular appropriateness and the\ndelicate, pathetic beauty in the employment of this name by Christ in\nthe existing circumstances. Who was it that had first said: 'He that\nhath the bride is the bridegroom, but the friend of the bridegroom\nthat standeth by and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the\nbridegroom's voice. This my joy therefore is fulfilled'? Why, it was\nthe master of these very men who were asking the question. John's\ndisciples came and said, 'Why do not your disciples fast?' and our\nLord reminded them of their own teacher's words, when he said, 'The\nfriend of the bridegroom can only be glad.' And so He would say to\nthem, 'In your master's own conception of what I am, and of the joy\nthat comes from My presence, you have an answer to your question. He\nmight have taught you who I am, and why it is that the men that stand\naround Me are glad.'\n\nBut this is not all. We cannot but connect this name with a whole\ncircle of ideas found in the Old Testament, especially with that most\nfamiliar and almost stereotyped figure which represents the union\nbetween Israel and Jehovah, under the emblem of the marriage bond. The\nLord is the 'husband'; and the nation whom He has loved and redeemed\nand chosen for Himself, is the 'wife'; unfaithful and forgetful, often\nrequiting love with indifference and protection with unthankfulness,\nand needing to be put away, and debarred of the society of the husband\nwho still yearns for her; but a wife still, and in the new time to be\njoined to Him by a bond that shall never be broken and a better\ncovenant.\n\nAnd so Christ lays His hand upon all that old history and says, 'It is\nfulfilled here in Me.' A familiar note in Old Testament Messianic\nprophecy too is caught and echoed here, especially that grand marriage\node of the forty-fifth psalm, in which he must be a very prosaic or\nvery deeply prejudiced reader who hears nothing more than the shrill\nwedding greetings at the marriage of some Jewish king with a foreign\nprincess. Its bounding hopes and its magnificent sweep of vision are a\nworld too wide for such interpretation. The Bridegroom of that psalm\nis the Messiah, and the Bride is the Church.\n\nI need only refer in a sentence to what this indicates of Christ's\nself-consciousness. What must He, who takes this name as His own, have\nthought Himself to be to the world, and the world to Him? He steps\ninto the place of the Jehovah of the Old Testament, and claims as His\nown all these great and wonderful prophecies. He promises love,\nprotection, communion, the deepest, most mystical union of spirit and\nheart with Himself; and He claims quiet, restful confidence in His\nlove, absolute, loving obedience to His authority, reliance upon His\nstrong hand and loving heart, and faithful cleaving to Him. The\nBridegroom of humanity, the Husband of the world, if it will only turn\nto Him, is Christ Himself.\n\nII. But a word as to the presence of the Bridegroom. It might seem as\nif this text condemned us who love an unseen and absent Lord to\nexclusion from the joy which is made to depend on His presence. Are we\nin the dreary period when 'the Bridegroom is taken away' and fasting\nappropriate?\n\nSurely not. The time of mourning for an absent Christ was only three\ndays; the law for the years of the Church's history between the moment\nwhen the uplifted eyes of the gazers lost Him in the symbolic cloud\nand the moment when He shall come again is, 'Lo, I am with you alway.'\nThe absent Christ is the present Christ. He is really with us, not as\nthe memory or the influence of the example of the dead may be said to\nremain, not as the spirit of a teacher may be said to abide with his\nschool of followers. We say that Christ has gone up on high and sits\non 'the right hand of God.' The right hand of God is His active power.\nWhere is 'the right hand of God'? It is wherever His divine energy\nworks. He that sits at the right hand of God is thereby declared to be\nwherever the divine energy is in operation, and to be Himself the\nwielder of that divine Power. I believe in a local abode of the\nglorified human body of Jesus Christ now, but I believe likewise that\nall through God's universe, and eminently in this world, which He has\nredeemed, Christ is present, in His consciousness of its\ncircumstances, and in the activity of His influence, and in whatsoever\nother incomprehensible and unspeakable mode Omnipresence belongs to a\ndivine Person. So that He is with us most really, though the visible,\nbodily Form is no longer by our sides.\n\nThat Presence which survives, which is true for us here to-day, may be\na far better and more blessed and real thing than the presence of the\nmere bodily Form in which He once dwelt. We may have lost something by\nHis going away in visible form; I doubt whether we have. We have lost\nthe manifestation of Him to the sense, but we have gained the\nmanifestation of Him to the spirit. And just as the great men, who are\nonly men, need to die and go away in order to be measured in their\ntrue magnitude and understood in their true glory; just as when a man\nis in amongst the mountains, he cannot tell which peak is the dominant\none, but when he gets away a little space across the sea and looks\nback, distance helps to measure magnitude and reveal the sovereign\nsummit which towers above all the rest, so, looking back across the\nages with the foreground between us and Him of the history of the\nChristian Church ever since, and noticing how other heights have sunk\nbeneath the waves and have been wrapped in clouds and have disappeared\nbehind the great round of the earth, we can tell how high this One is;\nand know better than they knew who it is that moves amongst men in\n'the form of a servant,' even the Bridegroom of the Church and of the\nworld. 'It is expedient for you that I go away,' and Christ is, or\nought to be, nearer to us to-day in all that constitutes real\nnearness, in our apprehension of His essential character, in our\nreception of His holiest influences, than He ever was to them who\nwalked beside Him on the earth.\n\nBut, brethren, that presence is of no use at all to us unless we daily\ntry to realise it. He was with these men whether they would or no.\nWhether they thought about Him or no, there He was; and just because\nHis presence did not at all depend upon their spiritual condition, it\nwas a lower kind of presence than that which you and I have now, and\nwhich depends altogether on our realising it by the turning of our\nhearts to Him, and by the daily contemplation of Him amidst all our\nbustle and struggle.\n\nDo you, as you go about your work, feel His nearness and try to keep\nthe feeling fresh and vivid, by occupying heart and mind with Him, by\nreferring everything to His supreme control? By trusting yourselves\nutterly and absolutely in His hand, and gathering round you, as it\nwere, the sweetness of His love by meditation and reflection, do you\ntry to make conscious to yourselves your Lord's presence with you? If\nyou do, that presence is to you a blessed reality; if you do not, it\nis a word that means nothing and is of no help, no stimulus, no\nprotection, no satisfaction, no sweetness whatever to you. The\nchildren of the Bridegroom are glad only when, and as, they know that\nthe Bridegroom is with them.\n\nIII. And now a word, last of all, about the joy of the Bridegroom's\npresence. What was it that made these humble lives so glad when Christ\nwas with them, filling them with strange new sweetness and power? The\ncharm of personal character, the charm of contact with one whose lips\nwere bringing to them fresh revelations of truth, fresh visions of\nGod, whose whole life was the exhibition of a nature beautiful, and\nnoble, and pure, and tender, and sweet, and loving, beyond anything\nthey had ever seen before.\n\nAh! brethren, there is no joy in the world like that of companionship,\nin the freedom of perfect love, with one who ever keeps us at our\nbest, and brings the treasures of ever fresh truth to the mind, as\nwell as beauty of character to admire and imitate. That is one of the\ngreatest gifts that God gives, and is a source of the purest joy that\nwe can have. Now we may have all that and much more in Jesus Christ.\nHe will be with us if we do not drive Him away from us, as the source\nof our purest joy, because He is the all-sufficient Object of our\nlove.\n\nOh! you men and women who have been wearily seeking in the world for\nlove that cannot change, for love that cannot die and leave you; you\nwho have been made sad for life by irrevocable losses, or sorrowful in\nthe midst of your joy by the anticipated certain separation which is\nto come, listen to this One who says to you: 'I will never leave thee,\nand My love shall be round thee for ever'; and recognise this, that\nthere is a love which cannot change, which cannot die, which has no\nlimits, which never can be cold, which never can disappoint, and\ntherefore, in it, and in His presence, there is unending gladness.\n\nHe is with us as the source of our joy, because He is the Lord of our\nlives, and the absolute Commander of our wills. To have One present\nwith us whose loving word it is delight to obey, and who takes upon\nHimself all responsibility for the conduct of our lives, and leaves us\nonly the task of doing what we are bid--that is peace, that is\ngladness, of such a kind as none else in the world gives.\n\nHe is with us as the ground of perfect joy, because He is the adequate\nobject of all our desires, and the whole of the faculties and powers\nof a man will find a field of glad activity in leaning upon Him, and\nrealising His presence. Like the Apostle whom the old painters loved\nto represent lying with his happy head on Christ's heart, and his eyes\nclosed in a tranquil rapture of restful satisfaction, so if we have\nHim with us and feel that He is with us, our spirits may be still, and\nin the great stillness of fruition of all our wishes and fulfilment of\nall our needs, may know a joy that the world can neither give nor take\naway.\n\nHe is with us as the source of endless gladness, in that He is the\ndefence and protection for our souls. And as men live in a victualled\nfortress, and care not though the whole surrounding country may be\nswept bare of all provision, so when we have Christ with us we may\nfeel safe, whatsoever befalls, and 'in the days of famine we shall be\nsatisfied.'\n\nHe is with us as the source of our perfect joy, because His presence\nis the kindling of every hope that fills the future with light and\nglory. Dark or dim at the best, trodden by uncertain shapes, casting\nmany a deep shadow over the present, that future lies, unless we see\nit illumined by Christ, and have Him by our sides. But if we possess\nHis companionship, the present is but the parent of a more blessed\ntime to come; and we can look forward and feel that nothing can touch\nour gladness, because nothing can touch our union with our Lord.\n\nSo, dear brethren, from all these thoughts and a thousand more which I\nhave no time to dwell upon, comes this one great consideration, that\nthe joy of the presence of the Bridegroom is the victorious antagonist\nof all sorrow and mourning. 'Can the children of the bridechamber\nmourn, while the bridegroom is with them?' The answer sometimes seems\nto be, 'Yes, they can.' Our own hearts, with their experience of\ntears, and losses, and disappointments, seem to say: 'Mourning is\npossible, even whilst He is here. We have our own share, and we\nsometimes think, more than our share, of the ills that flesh is heir\nto.' And we have, over and above them, in the measure in which we are\nChristians, certain special sources of sorrow and trial, peculiar to\nourselves alone; and the deeper and truer our Christianity the more of\nthese shall we have. But notwithstanding all that, what will the felt\npresence of the Bridegroom do for these griefs that will come? Well,\nit will limit them, for one thing; it will prevent them from absorbing\nthe whole of our nature. There will always be a Goshen in which there\nis 'light in the dwelling,' however murky may be the darkness that\nwraps the land. There will always be a little bit of soil above the\nsurface, however weltering and wide may be the inundation that drowns\nour world. There will always be a dry and warm place in the midst of\nthe winter, a kind of greenhouse into which we may get from out of the\ntempest and fog. The joy of the Bridegroom's presence will last\nthrough the sorrow, like a spring of fresh water welling up in the\nmidst of the sea. We may have the salt and the sweet waters mingling\nin our lives, not sent forth by one fountain, but flowing in one\nchannel.\n\nOur joy will sometimes be made sweeter and more wonderful by the very\npresence of the mourning and the pain. Just as the pillar of cloud,\nthat glided before the Israelites through the wilderness, glowed into\na pillar of fire as the darkness deepened, so, as the outlook around\nbecomes less and less cheery and bright, and the night falls thicker\nand thicker, what seemed to be but a thin, grey, wavering column in\nthe blaze of the sunlight will gather warmth and brightness at the\nheart of it when the midnight comes. You cannot see the stars at\ntwelve o'clock in the day; you have to watch for the dark hours ere\nheaven is filled with glory. And so sorrow is often the occasion for\nthe full revelation of the joy of Christ's presence.\n\nWhy have so many Christian men so little joy in their lives? Because\nthey look for it in all sorts of wrong places, and seek to wring it\nout of all sorts of sapless and dry things. 'Do men gather grapes of\nthorns?' If you fling the berries of the thorn into the winepress,\nwill you get sweet sap out of them? That is what you are doing when\nyou take gratified earthly affections, worldly competence, fulfilled\nambitions, and put them into the press, and think that out of these\nyou can squeeze the wine of gladness. No! No! brethren, dry and\nsapless and juiceless they all are. There is one thing that gives a\nman worthy, noble, eternal gladness, and that is the felt presence of\nthe Bridegroom.\n\nWhy have so many Christians so little joy in their lives? A religion\nlike that of John's disciples and that of the Pharisees is a poor\naffair. A religion of which the main features are law and restriction\nand prohibition, cannot be joyful. And there are a great many people\nwho call themselves Christians, and have just religion enough to take\nthe edge off worldly pleasures, and yet have not enough to make\nfellowship with Christ a gladness for them.\n\nThere is a cry amongst us for a more cheerful type of religion. I\nre-echo the cry, but I am afraid that I do not mean by it quite the\nsame thing that some of my friends do. A more cheerful type of\nChristianity means to many of us a type of Christianity that will\ninterfere less with our amusements; a more indulgent doctor that will\nprescribe a less rigid diet than the old Puritan type used to do.\nWell, perhaps they went too far; I do not care to deny that. But the\nonly cheerful Christianity is a Christianity that draws its gladness\nfrom deep personal experience of communion with Jesus Christ. There is\nno way of men being religious and happy except being profoundly\nreligious, and living very near their Master, and always trying to\ncultivate that spirit of communion with Him which shall surround them\nwith the sweetness and the power of His felt presence. We do not want\nPharisaic fasting, but we do want that the reason for not fasting\nshall not be that Christians like eating better, but that their\nreligion must be joyful because they have Christ with them, and\ntherefore cannot choose but sing, as a lark cannot choose but carol.\n'Religion has no power over us, but as it is our happiness,' and we\nshall never make it our happiness, and therefore never know its\nbeneficent control, until we lift it clean out of the low region of\noutward forms and joyless service, into the blessed heights of\ncommunion with Jesus Christ, 'Whom having not seen we love.'\n\nI would that Christian people saw more plainly that joy is a duty, and\nthat they are bound to make efforts to obey the command, 'Rejoice in\nthe Lord always,' no less than to keep other precepts. If we abide in\nChrist, His joy 'will abide in us, and our joy will be full.' We shall\nhave in our hearts a fountain of true joy which will never be turbid\nwith earthly stains, nor dried up by heat, nor frozen by cold. If we\nset the Lord always before us our days may be at once like the happy\nhours of the 'children of the bridechamber,' bright with gladness and\nmusical with song; and also saved from the enervation that sometimes\ncomes from joy, because they are also like the patient vigils of the\nservants who 'wait for the Lord, when He shall return from the\nwedding.' So strangely blended of fruition and hope, of companionship\nand solitude, of feasting and watching, is the Christian life here,\nuntil the time comes when His friends go in with the Bridegroom to the\nbanquet, and drink for ever of the new joy of the kingdom.\n\n\n\nWORKS WHICH HALLOW THE SABBATH\n\n\n'And it came to pass, that He went through the cornfields on the\nSabbath day; and His disciples began, as they went, to pluck the ears\nof corn. 24. And the Pharisees said unto Him, Behold, why do they on\nthe Sabbath day that which is not lawful? 25. And He said unto them,\nHave ye never read what David did, when he had need, and was an\nhungred, he, and they that were with him? 28. How he went into the\nhouse of God in the days of Abiathar the high priest, and did eat the\nshewbread, which is not lawful to eat but for the priests, and gave\nalso to them which were with him? 27. And He said unto them, The\nSabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath: 28. Therefore\nthe Son of Man is Lord also of the Sabbath.'--Mark ii. 23-28.\n\n'And He entered again into the synagogue; and there was a man there\nwhich had a withered hand. 2. And they watched Him, whether He would\nheal him on the Sabbath day; that they might accuse Him. 3. And He\nsaith unto the man which had the withered hand, Stand forth. 4. And He\nsaith unto them, Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath days, or to do\nevil? to save life, or to kill? But they held their peace. 5. And when\nHe had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the\nhardness of their hearts, He saith unto the man, Stretch forth thine\nhand. And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the\nother.'--Mark iii. 1-5.\n\nThese two Sabbath scenes make a climax to the preceding paragraphs, in\nwhich Jesus has asserted His right to brush aside Rabbinical\nordinances about eating with sinners and about fasting. Here He goes\nmuch further, in claiming power over the divine ordinance of the\nSabbath. Formalists are moved to more holy horror by free handling of\nforms than by heterodoxy as to principles. So we can understand how\nthe Pharisees' suspicions were exacerbated to murderous hate by these\ntwo incidents. It is doubtful whether Mark puts them together because\nthey occurred together, or because they bear on the same subject. They\ndeal with the two classes of 'works' which later Christian theology\nhas recognised as legitimate exceptions to the law of the Sabbath\nrest; namely, works of necessity and of mercy.\n\nI. Whether we adopt the view that the disciples were clearing a path\nthrough standing corn, or the simpler one, that they gathered the ears\nof corn on the edge of a made path as they went, the point of the\nPharisees' objection was that they broke the Sabbath by plucking,\nwhich was a kind of reaping. According to Luke, their breach of the\nRabbinical exposition of the law was an event more dreadful in the\neyes of these narrow pedants; for there was not only reaping, but the\nanalogue of winnowing and grinding, for the grains were rubbed in the\ndisciples' palms. What daring sin! What impious defiance of law! But\nof what law? Not that of the Fourth Commandment, which simply forbade\n'labour,' but that of the doctors' expositions of the commandment,\nwhich expended miraculous ingenuity and hair-splitting on deciding\nwhat was labour and what was not. The foundations of that astonishing\nstructure now found in the Talmud were, no doubt, laid before Christ.\nThis expansion of the prohibition, so as to take in such trifles as\nplucking and rubbing a handful of heads of corn, has many parallels\nthere.\n\nBut it is noteworthy that our Lord does not avail Himself of the\ndistinction between God's commandment and men's exposition of it. He\ndoes not embarrass himself with two controversies at once. At fit\ntimes He disputed Rabbinical authority, and branded their casuistry as\nbinding grievous burdens on men; but here He allows their assumption\nof the equal authority of their commentary and of the text to pass\nunchallenged, and accepts the statement that His disciples had been\ndoing what was unlawful on the Sabbath, and vindicates their breach of\nlaw.\n\nNote that His answer deals first with an example of similar breach of\nceremonial law, and then rises to lay down a broad principle which\ngoverned that precedent, vindicates the act of the disciples, and\ndraws for all ages a broad line of demarcation between the obligations\nof ceremonial and of moral law. Clearly, His adducing David's act in\ntaking the shewbread implies that the disciples' reason for plucking\nthe ears of corn was not to clear a path but to satisfy hunger.\nProbably, too, it suggests that He also was hungry, and partook of the\nsimple food.\n\nNote, too, the tinge of irony in that 'Did ye _never_ read?' In all\nyour minute study of the letter of the Scripture, did you never take\nheed to that page? The principle on which the priest at Nob let the\nhungry fugitives devour the sacred bread, was the subordination of\nceremonial law to men's necessities. It was well to lay the loaves on\nthe table in the Presence, but it was better to take them and feed the\nfainting servant of God and his followers with them. Out of the very\nheart of the law which the Pharisees appealed to, in order to spin\nrestricting prohibitions, Jesus drew an example of freedom which ran\non all-fours with His disciples' case. The Pharisees had pored over\nthe Old Testament all their lives, but it would have been long before\nthey had found such a doctrine as this in it.\n\nJesus goes on to bring out the principle which shaped the instance he\ngave. He does not state it in its widest form, but confines it to the\nmatter in hand--Sabbath obligations. Ceremonial law in all its parts\nis established as a means to an end--the highest good of men.\nTherefore, the end is more important than the means; and, in any case\nof apparent collision, the means must give way that the end may be\nsecured. External observances are not of permanent, unalterable\nobligation. They stand on a different footing from primal moral\nduties, which remain equally imperative whether doing them leads to\nphysical good or evil. David and his men were bound to keep these,\nwhether they starved or not; but they were not bound to leave the shew\nbread lying in the shrine, and starve.\n\nMan is made for the moral law. It is supreme, and he is under it,\nwhether obedience leads to death or not. But all ceremonial\nregulations are merely established to help men to reach the true end\nof their being, and may be suspended or modified by his necessities.\nThe Sabbath comes under the class of such ceremonial regulations, and\nmay therefore be elastic when the pressure of necessity is brought to\nbear.\n\nBut note that our Lord, even while thus defining the limits of the\nobligation, asserts its universality. 'The Sabbath was made for\nman'--not for a nation or an age, but for all time and for the whole\nrace. Those who would sweep away the observance of the weekly day of\nrest are fond of quoting this text; but they give little heed to its\nfirst clause, and do not note that their favourite passage upsets\ntheir main contention, and establishes the law of the Sabbath as a\npossession for the world for ever. It is not a burden, but a\nprivilege, made and meant for man's highest good.\n\nChrist's conclusion that He is 'Lord even of the Sabbath' is based\nupon the consideration of the true design of the day. If it is once\nunderstood that it is appointed, not as an inflexible duty, like the\nobligation of truth or purity, but as a means to man's good, physical\nand spiritual, then He who has in charge all man's higher interests,\nand who is the perfect realisation of the ideal of manhood, has full\nauthority to modify and suspend the ceremonial observance if in His\nunerring judgment the suspension is desirable.\n\nThis is not an abrogation of the Sabbath, but, on the contrary, a\nconfirmation of the universal and merciful appointment. It does not\ngive permission to keep or neglect it, according to whim or for the\nsake of amusement, but it does draw, strong and clear, the distinction\nbetween a positive rite which may be modified, and an unchangeable\nprecept of the moral law which it is better for a man to die than to\nneglect or transgress.\n\nThe second Sabbath scene deals with the same question from another\npoint of view. Works of necessity warranted the supercession of\nSabbath law; works of beneficence are no breaches of it. There are\ncircumstances in which it is right to do what is not 'lawful' on the\nSabbath, for such works as healing the man with a withered hand are\nalways 'lawful.'\n\nWe note the cruel indifference to the sufferer's woe which so\ncharacteristically accompanies a religion which is mainly a matter of\noutside observances. What cared the Pharisees whether the poor cripple\nwas healed or no? They wanted him cured only that they might have a\ncharge against Jesus. Note, too, the strange condition of mind, which\nrecognised Christ's miraculous power, and yet considered Him an\nimpious sinner.\n\nObserve our Lord's purpose to make the miracle most conspicuous. He\nbids the man stand out in the midst, before all the cold eyes of\nmalicious Pharisees and gaping spectators. A secret espionage was\ngoing on in the synagogue. He sees it all, and drags it into full\nlight by setting the man forth and by His sudden, sharp thrust of a\nquestion. He takes the first word this time, and puts the stealthy\nspies on the defensive. His interrogation may possibly be regarded as\nhaving a bearing on their conduct, for there was murder in their\nhearts (verse 6). There they sat with solemn faces, posing as\nsticklers for law and religion, and all the while they were seeking\ngrounds for killing Him. Was that Sabbath work? Whether would He, if\nHe cured the shrunken arm, or they, if they gathered accusations with\nthe intention of compassing His death, be the Sabbath-breakers?\n\nIt was a sharp, swift cut through their cloak of sanctity; but it has\na wider scope than that. The question rests on the principle that good\nomitted is equivalent to evil committed. If we can save, and do not,\nthe responsibility of loss lies on us. If we can rescue, and let die,\nour brother's blood reddens our hands. Good undone is not merely\nnegative. It is positive evil done. If from regard to the Sabbath we\nrefrained from doing some kindly deed alleviating a brother's sorrow,\nwe should not be inactive, but should have done something by our very\nnot doing, and what we should do would be evil. It is a pregnant\nsaying which has many solemn applications.\n\nNo wonder that they 'held their peace.' Unless they had been prepared\nto abandon their position, there was nothing to be said. That silence\nindicated conviction and obstinate pride and rooted hatred which would\nnot be convinced, conciliated, or softened. Therefore Jesus looked on\nthem with that penetrating, yearning gaze, which left ineffaceable\nremembrances on the beholders, as the frequent mention of it\nindicates.\n\nThe emotions in Christ's heart as He looked on the dogged, lowering\nfaces are expressed in a remarkable phrase, which is probably best\ntaken as meaning that grief mingled with His anger. A wondrous glimpse\ninto that tender heart, which in all its tenderness is capable of\nrighteous indignation, and in all its indignation does not set aside\nits tenderness!\n\nMark that not even the most rigid prohibitions were broken by the\nprocess of cure. It was no breach of the fantastic restrictions which\nhad been engrafted on the commandment, that Jesus should bid the man\nput out his hand. Nobody could find fault with a man for doing that.\nThese two things, a word and a movement of muscles, were all. So He\ndid 'heal on the Sabbath,' and yet did nothing that could be laid hold\nof.\n\nBut let us not miss the parable of the restoration of the maimed and\nshrunken powers of the soul, which the manner of the miracle gives.\nWhatever we try to do because Jesus bids us, He will give us strength\nto do, however impossible to our unaided powers it is. In the act of\nstretching out the hand, ability to stretch it forth is bestowed,\npower returns to atrophied muscles, stiffened joints are suppled, the\nblood runs in full measure through the veins. So it is ever. Power to\nobey attends on the desire and effort to obey.\n\n\n\nTHE ANGER AND GRIEF OF JESUS\n\n\nHe looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the\nhardness of their hearts.'--Mark iii. 5.\n\nOur Lord goes into the synagogue at Capernaum, where He had already\nwrought more than one miracle, and there He finds an object for His\nhealing power, in a poor man with a withered hand; and also a little\nknot of His enemies. The scribes and Pharisees expect Christ to heal\nthe man. So much had they learned of His tenderness and of His power.\n\nBut their belief that He could work a miracle did not carry them one\nstep towards a recognition of Him as sent by God. They have no eye for\nthe miracle, because they expect that He is going to break the\nSabbath. There is nothing so blind as formal religionism. This poor\nman's infirmity did not touch their hearts with one little throb of\ncompassion. They had rather that he had gone crippled all his days\nthan that one of their Rabbinical Sabbatarian restrictions should be\nviolated. There is nothing so cruel as formal religionism. They only\nthink that there is a trap laid--and perhaps they had laid it--into\nwhich Christ is sure to go.\n\nSo, as our Evangelist tells us, they sat there stealthily watching Him\nout of their cold eyes, whether He would heal on the Sabbath day, that\nthey might accuse Him. Our Lord bids the man stand out into the middle\nof the little congregation. He obeys, perhaps, with some feeble\nglimmer of hope playing round his heart. There is a quickened\nattention in the audience; the enemies are watching Him with\ngratification, because they hope He is going to do what they think to\nbe a sin.\n\nAnd then He reduces them all to silence and perplexity by His\nquestion--sharp, penetrating, unexpected: 'Is it lawful to do good on\nthe Sabbath day, or to do evil? You are ready to blame Me as breaking\nyour Sabbatarian regulations if I heal this man. What if I do not heal\nhim? Will that be doing nothing? Will not that be a worse breach of\nthe Sabbath day than if I heal him?'\n\nHe takes the question altogether out of the region of pedantic\nRabbinism, and bases His vindication upon the two great principles\nthat mercy and help hallow any day, and that not to do good when we\ncan is to do harm, and not to save life is to kill.\n\nThey are silenced. His arrow touches them; they do not speak because\nthey cannot answer; and they will not yield. There is a struggle going\non in them, which Christ sees, and He fixes them with that steadfast\nlook of His; of which our Evangelist is the only one who tells us what\nit expressed, and by what it was occasioned. 'He looked round about on\nthem _with anger_, being _grieved_.' Mark the combination of emotions,\nanger and grief. And mark the reason for both; 'the hardness,' or as\nyou will see, if you use the Revised Version, 'the _hardening_' of\ntheir hearts--a process which He saw going on before Him as He looked\nat them.\n\nNow I do not need to follow the rest of the story, how He turns away\nfrom them because He will not waste any more words on them, else He\nhad done more harm than good. He heals the man. They hurry from the\nsynagogue to prove their zeal for the sanctifying of the Sabbath day\nby hatching a plot on it for murdering Him. I leave all that, and turn\nto the thoughts suggested by this look of Christ as explained by the\nEvangelist.\n\nI. Consider then, first, the solemn fact of Christ's anger.\n\nIt is the only occasion, so far as I remember, upon which that emotion\nis attributed to Him. Once, and once only, the flash came out of the\nclear sky of that meek and gentle heart. He was once angry; and we may\nlearn the lesson of the possibilities that lay slumbering in His love.\nHe was only once angry, and we may learn the lesson that His perfect\nand divine charity 'is not easily provoked.' These very words from\nPaul's wonderful picture may teach us that the perfection of divine\ncharity does not consist in its being incapable of becoming angry at\nall, but only in its not being angry except upon grave and good\noccasion.\n\nChrist's anger was part of the perfection of His manhood. The man that\ncannot be angry at evil lacks enthusiasm for good. The nature that is\nincapable of being touched with generous and righteous indignation is\nso, generally, either because it lacks fire and emotion altogether, or\nbecause its vigour has been dissolved into a lazy indifference and\neasy good nature which it mistakes for love. Better the heat of the\ntropics, though sometimes the thunderstorms may gather, than the white\ncalmness of the frozen poles. Anger is not weakness, but it is\nstrength, if there be these three conditions, if it be evoked by a\nrighteous and unselfish cause, if it be kept under rigid control, and\nif there be nothing in it of malice, even when it prompts to\npunishment. Anger is just and right when it is not produced by the\nmere friction of personal irritation (like electricity by rubbing),\nbut is excited by the contemplation of evil. It is part of the marks\nof a good man that he kindles into wrath when he sees 'the oppressor's\nwrong.' If you went out hence to-night, and saw some drunken ruffian\nbeating his wife or ill-using his child, would you not do well to be\nangry? And when nations have risen up, as our own nation did seventy\nyears ago in a paroxysm of righteous indignation, and vowed that\nBritish soil should no more bear the devilish abomination of slavery,\nwas there nothing good and great in that wrath? So it is one of the\nstrengths of man that he shall be able to glow with indignation at\nevil.\n\nOnly all such emotion must be kept well in hand must never be suffered\nto degenerate into passion. Passion is always weak, emotion is an\nelement of strength.\n\n            'The gods approve\n    The depth and not the tumult of the soul.'\n\nBut where a man does not let his wrath against evil go sputtering off\naimlessly, like a box of fireworks set all alight at once, then it\ncomes to be a strength and a help to much that is good.\n\nThe other condition that makes wrath righteous and essential to the\nperfection of a man, is that there shall be in it no taint of malice.\nAnger may impel to punish and not be malicious, if its reason for\npunishment is the passionless impulse of justice or the reformation of\nthe wrong-doer. Then it is pure and true and good. Such wrath is a\npart of the perfection of humanity, and such wrath was in Jesus\nChrist.\n\nBut, still further, Christ's anger was part of His revelation of God.\nWhat belongs to perfect man belongs to God in whose image man was\nmade. People are very often afraid of attributing to the divine nature\nthat emotion of wrath, very unnecessarily, I think, and to the\ndetriment of all their conceptions of the divine nature.\n\nThere is no reason why we should not ascribe emotion to Him. Passions\nGod has not; emotions the Bible represents Him as having. The god of\nthe philosopher has none. He is a cold, impassive Somewhat, more like\na block of ice than a god. But the God of the Bible has a heart that\ncan be touched, and is capable of something like what we call in\nourselves emotion. And if we rightly think of God as Love, there is no\nmore reason why we should not think of God as having the other emotion\nof wrath; for as I have shown you, there is nothing in wrath itself\nwhich is derogatory to the perfection of the loftiest spiritual\nnature. In God's anger there is no self-regarding irritation, no\npassion, no malice. It is the necessary displeasure and aversion of\ninfinite purity at the sight of man's impurity. God's anger is His\nlove thrown back upon itself from unreceptive and unloving hearts.\nJust as a wave that would roll in smooth, unbroken, green beauty into\nthe open door of some sea-cave is dashed back in spray and foam from\nsome grim rock, so the love of God, meeting the unloving heart that\nrejects it, and the purity of God meeting the impurity of man,\nnecessarily become that solemn reality, the wrath of the most high\nGod. 'A God all mercy were a God unjust.' The judge is condemned when\nthe culprit is acquitted; and he that strikes out of the divine nature\nthe capacity for anger against sin, little as he thinks it, is\ndegrading the righteousness and diminishing the love of God.\n\nOh, dear brethren, I beseech you do not let any easygoing gospel that\nhas nothing to say to you about God's necessary aversion from, and\ndispleasure with, and chastisement of, your sins and mine, draw you\naway from the solemn and wholesome belief that there is that in God\nwhich must hate and war against and chastise our evil, and that if\nthere were not, He would be neither worth loving nor worth trusting.\nAnd His Son, in His tears and in His tenderness, which were habitual,\nand also in that lightning flash which once shot across the sky of His\nnature, was revealing Him to us. The Gospel is not only the revelation\nof God's righteousness for faith, but is also 'the revelation of His\nwrath against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men.'\n\n'It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.' The ox, with the\nyoke on his neck, lashes out with his obstinate heels against the\ndriver's goad. He does not break the goad, but only embrues his own\nlimbs. Do not you do that!\n\nII. And now, once more, let me ask you to look at the compassion which\ngoes with our Lord's anger here; 'being grieved at the hardness of\ntheir hearts.'\n\nThe somewhat singular word rendered here 'grieved,' may either simply\nimply that this sorrow co-existed with the anger, or it may describe\nthe sorrow as being sympathy or compassion. I am disposed to take it\nin the latter application, and so the lesson we gather from these\nwords is the blessed thought that Christ's wrath was all blended with\ncompassion and sympathetic sorrow.\n\nHe looked upon these scribes and Pharisees sitting there with hatred\nin their eyes; and two emotions, which many men suppose as discrepant\nand incongruous as fire and water, rose together in His heart: wrath,\nwhich fell on the evil; sorrow, which bedewed the doers of it. The\nanger was for the hardening, the compassion was for the hardeners.\n\nIf there be this blending of wrath and sorrow, the combination takes\naway from the anger all possibility of an admixture of these\nquestionable ingredients, which mar human wrath, and make men shrink\nfrom attributing so turbid and impure an emotion to God. It is an\nanger which lies harmoniously in the heart side by side with the\ntenderest pity--the truest, deepest sorrow.\n\nAgain, if Christ's sorrow flowed out thus along with His anger when He\nlooked upon men's evil, then we understand in how tragic a sense He\nwas 'a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.' The pain and the\nburden and the misery of His earthly life had no selfish basis. They\nwere not like the pain and the burdens and the misery that so many of\nus howl out so loudly about, arising from causes affecting ourselves.\nBut for Him--with His perfect purity, with His deep compassion, with\nHis heart that was the most sensitive heart that ever beat in a human\nbreast, because it was the only perfectly pure one that ever beat\nthere--for Him to go amongst men was to be wounded and bruised and\nhacked by the sharp swords of their sins.\n\nEverything that He touched burned that pure nature, which was\nsensitive to evil, like an infant's hand to hot iron. His sorrow and\nHis anger were the two sides of the medal. His feelings in looking on\nsin were like a piece of woven stuff with a pattern on either side, on\none the fiery threads--the wrath; on the other the silvery tints of\nsympathetic pity. A warp of wrath, a woof of sorrow, dew and flame\nmarried and knit together.\n\nAnd may we not draw from this same combination of these two apparently\ndiscordant emotions in our Lord, the lesson of what it is in men that\nmakes them the true subjects of pity? Ay, these scribes and Pharisees\nhad very little notion that there was anything about them to\ncompassionate. But the thing which in the sight of God makes the true\nevil of men's condition is not their circumstances but their sins. The\none thing to weep for when we look at the world is not its\nmisfortunes, but its wickedness. Ah! brother, that is the misery of\nmiseries; that is the one thing worth crying about in our own lives,\nor in anybody else's. From this combination of indignation and pity,\nwe may learn how we should look upon evil. Men are divided into two\nclasses in their way of looking at wickedness in this world. One set\nare rigid and stern, and crackling into wrath; the other set placid\nand good-natured, and ready to weep over it as a misfortune and a\ncalamity, but afraid or unwilling to say: 'These poor creatures are to\nbe blamed as well as pitied.' It is of prime importance that we all\nshould try to take both points of view, looking on sin as a thing to\nbe frowned at, but also looking on it as a thing to be wept over; and\nto regard evil-doers as persons that deserve to be blamed and to be\nchastised, and made to feel the bitterness of their evil, and not to\ninterfere too much with the salutary laws that bring down sorrow upon\nmen's heads if they have been doing wrong, but, on the other hand, to\ntake care that our sense of justice does not swallow up the compassion\nthat weeps for the criminal as an object of pity. Public opinion and\nlegislation swing from the one extreme to the other. We have to make\nan effort to keep in the centre, and never to look round in anger,\nunsoftened by pity, nor in pity, enfeebled by being separated from\nrighteous indignation.\n\nIII. Let me now deal briefly with the last point that is here, namely,\nthe occasion for both the sorrow and the anger, 'Being grieved at the\n_hardening_ of the hearts.'\n\nAs I said at the beginning of these remarks, 'hardness,' the rendering\nof our Authorised Version, is not quite so near the mark as that of\nthe Revised Version, which speaks not so much of a condition as of a\nprocess: 'He was grieved at the hardening of their hearts,' which He\nsaw going on there.\n\nAnd what was hardening their hearts? It was He. Why were their hearts\nbeing hardened? Because they were looking at Him, His graciousness,\nHis goodness, and His power, and were steeling themselves against Him,\nopposing to His grace and tenderness their own obstinate\ndetermination. Some little gleams of light were coming in at their\nwindows, and they clapped the shutters up. Some tones of His voice\nwere coming into their ears, and they stuffed their fingers into them.\nThey half felt that if they let themselves be influenced by Him it was\nall over, and so they set their teeth and steadied themselves in their\nantagonism.\n\nAnd that is what some of you are doing now. Jesus Christ is never\npreached to you, even although it is as imperfectly as I do it, but\nthat you either gather yourselves into an attitude of resistance, or,\nat least, of mere indifference till the flow of the sermon's words is\ndone; or else open your hearts to His mercy and His grace.\n\nOh, dear brethren, will you take this lesson of the last part of my\ntext, that nothing so tends to harden a man's heart to the gospel of\nJesus Christ as religious formalism? If Jesus Christ were to come in\nhere now, and stand where I am standing, and look round about upon\nthis congregation, I wonder how many a highly respectable and\nperfectly proper man and woman, church and chapel-goer, who keeps the\nSabbath day, He would find on whom He had to look with grief not\nunmingled with anger, because they were hardening their hearts against\nHim now. I am sure there are some of such among my present audience. I\nam sure there are some of you about whom it is true that 'the\npublicans and the harlots will go into the Kingdom of God before you,'\nbecause in their degradation they may be nearer the lowly penitence\nand the consciousness of their own misery and need, which will open\ntheir eyes to see the beauty and the preciousness of Jesus Christ.\n\nDear brother, let no reliance upon any external attention to religious\nordinances; no interest, born of long habit of hearing sermons; no\ntrust in the fact of your being communicants, blind you to this, that\nall these things may come between you and your Saviour, and so may\ntake you away into the outermost darkness.\n\nDear brother or sister, you are a sinner. 'The God in whose hand thy\nbreath is, and whose are all thy ways, thou hast not glorified.' You\nhave forgotten Him; you have lived to please yourselves. I charge you\nwith nothing criminal, with nothing gross or sensual; I know nothing\nabout you in such matters; but I know this--that you have a heart like\nmine, that we have all of us the one character, and that we all need\nthe one gospel of that Saviour 'who bare our sins in His own body on\nthe tree,' and died that whosoever trusts in Him may live here and\nyonder. I beseech you, harden not your hearts, but to-day hear His\nvoice, and remember the solemn words which not I, but the Apostle of\nLove, has spoken: 'He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life,\nhe that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God\nabideth upon him.' Flee to that sorrowing and dying Saviour, and take\nthe cleansing which He gives, that you may be safe on the sure\nfoundation when God shall arise to do His strange work of judgment,\nand may never know the awful meaning of that solemn word--'the wrath\nof the Lamb.'\n\n\n\nAMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST\n\n\n'And the Pharisees went forth, and straightway took counsel with the\nHerodlans against Him, how they might destroy Him. 7. But Jesus\nwithdrew Himself with His disciples to the sea: and a great multitude\nfrom Galilee followed Him, and from Jud\u00e6a 8. And from Jerusalem, and\nfrom Idum\u00e6a beyond Jordan; and they about Tyre and Sidon, a great\nmultitude, when they had heard what great things He did, came unto\nHim. 9. And He spake to His disciples, that a small ship should wait\non Him because of the multitude, lest they should throng Him. 10. For\nhe had healed many; insomuch that they pressed upon Him for to touch\nHim, as many as had plagues. 11. And unclean spirits, when they saw\nHim, fell down before Him, and cried, saying, Thou art the Son of God.\n12. And He straitly charged them that they should not make Him known.\n13. And He goeth up into a mountain, and calleth unto Him whom He\nwould: and they came unto Him. 14. And He ordained twelve, that they\nshould be with Him, and that He might send them forth to preach, 15.\nAnd to have power to heal sicknesses, and to cast out devils: 16. And\nSimon He surnamed Peter; 17. And James the son of Zebedee, and John\nthe brother of James; and He surnamed them Boanerges, which is, The\nsons of thunder: 18. And Andrew, and Philip, and Bartholomew, and\nMatthew, and Thomas, and James the son of Alph\u00e6us Thadd\u00e6us Simon the\nCanaanite, 19. And Judas Iscariot, which also betrayed Him: and they\nwent into an house.'--Mark iii. 6-19.\n\nA common object of hatred cements antagonists into strange alliance.\nHawks and kites join in assailing a dove. Pharisees and Herod's\npartisans were antipodes; the latter must have parted with all their\npatriotism and much of their religion, but both parties were ready to\nsink their differences in order to get rid of Jesus, whom they\ninstinctively felt to threaten destruction to them both. Such\nalliances of mutually repellent partisans against Christ's cause are\nnot out of date yet. Extremes join forces against what stands in the\nmiddle between them.\n\nJesus withdrew from the danger which was preparing, not from selfish\ndesire to preserve life, but because His 'hour' was not yet come.\nDiscretion is sometimes the better part of valour. To avoid peril is\nright, to fly from duty is not. There are times when Luther's 'Here I\nstand; I can do nothing else; God help me! Amen,' must be our motto;\nand there are times when the persecuted in one city are bound to flee\nto another. We shall best learn to distinguish between these times by\nkeeping close to Jesus.\n\nBut side by side with official hatred, and in some measure the cause\nof it, was a surging rush of popular enthusiasm. Pharisees took\noffence at Christ's breaches of law in his Sabbath miracles. The crowd\ngaped at the wonders, and grasped at the possibility of cures for\ntheir afflicted. Neither party in the least saw below the surface.\nMark describes two 'multitudes'--one made up of Galileans who, he\naccurately says, 'followed Him'; while the other 'came to Him' from\nfurther afield. Note the geographical order in the list: the southern\ncountry of Judea, and the capital; then the trans-Jordanic territories\nbeginning with Idumea in the south, and coming northward to Perea; and\nthen the north-west bordering lands of Tyre and Sidon. Thus three\nparts of a circle round Galilee as centre are described. Observe,\nalso, how turbid and impure the full stream of popular enthusiasm was.\n\nChrist's gracious, searching, illuminating words had no attraction for\nthe multitude. 'The great things He _did_' drew them with idle\ncuriosity or desire for bodily healing. Still more impure was the\nmotive which impelled the 'evil spirits' to approach Him, drawn by a\nstrange fascination to gaze on Him whom they knew to be their\nconqueror, and hated as the Son of God. Terror and malice drove them\nto His presence, and wrung from them acknowledgment of His supremacy.\nWhat intenser pain can any hell have than the clear recognition of\nChrist's character and power, coupled with fiercely obstinate and\nutterly vain rebellion against Him?\n\nNote, further, our Lord's recoil from the tumult. He had retired\nbefore cunning plotters; He withdrew from gaping admirers, who did not\nknow what they were crowding to, nor cared for His best gifts. It was\nno fastidious shrinking from low natures, nor any selfish wish for\nrepose, that made Him take refuge in the fisherman's little boat. But\nHis action teaches us a lesson that the best Christian work is\nhindered rather than helped by the 'popularity' which dazzles many,\nand is often mistaken for success. Christ's motive for seeking to\ncheck rather than to stimulate such impure admiration, was that it\nwould certainly increase the rulers' antagonism, and might even excite\nthe attention of the Roman authorities, who had to keep a very sharp\noutlook for agitations among their turbulent subjects. Therefore\nChrist first took to the boat, and then withdrew into the hills above\nthe lake.\n\nIn that seclusion He summoned to Him a small nucleus, as it would\nappear, by individual selection. These would be such of the\n'multitude' as He had discerned to be humble souls who yearned for\ndeliverance from worse than outward diseases or bondage, and who\ntherefore waited for a Messiah who was more than a physician or a\npatriot warrior. A personal call and a personal yielding make true\ndisciples. Happy we if our history can be summed up in 'He called them\nunto Him, and they came.' But there was an election within the chosen\ncircle.\n\nThe choice of the Twelve marks an epoch in the development of Christ's\nwork, and was occasioned, at this point of time, by both the currents\nwhich we find running so strong at this point in it. Precisely because\nPharisaic hatred was becoming so threatening, and popular enthusiasm\nwas opening opportunities which He singly could not utilise, He felt\nHis need both for companions and for messengers. Therefore He\nsurrounded Himself with that inner circle, and did it then, The\nappointment of the Apostles has been treated by some as a masterpiece\nof organisation, which largely contributed to the progress of\nChristianity, and by others as an endowment of the Twelve with\nsupernatural powers which are transmitted on certain outward\nconditions to their successors, and thereby give effect to sacraments,\nand are the legitimate channels for grace. But if we take Mark's\nstatement of their function, our view will be much simpler. The number\nof twelve distinctly alludes to the tribes of Israel, and implies that\nthe new community is to be the true people of God.\n\nThe Apostles were chosen for two ends, of which the former was\npreparatory to the latter. The latter was the more important and\npermanent, and hence gave the office its name. They were to be 'with\nChrist,' and we may fairly suppose that He wished that companionship\nfor His own sake as well as for theirs. No doubt, the primary purpose\nwas their training for their being sent forth to preach. But no doubt,\nalso, the lonely Christ craved for companions, and was strengthened\nand soothed by even the imperfect sympathy and unintelligent love of\nthese humble adherents. Who can fail to hear tones which reveal how\nmuch He hungered for companions in His grateful acknowledgment, 'Ye\nare they which have continued with Me in My temptations'? It still\nremains true that we must be 'with Christ' much and long before we can\ngo forth as His messengers.\n\nNote, too, that the miracle-working power comes last as least\nimportant. Peter had understood his office better than some of his\nalleged successors, when he made its qualification to be having been\nwith Jesus during His life, and its office to be that of being\nwitnesses of His resurrection (Acts i.).\n\nThe list of the Apostles presents many interesting points, at which we\ncan only glance. If compared with the lists in the other Gospels and\nin Acts, it brings out clearly the division into three groups of four\npersons each. The order in which the four are named varies within the\nlimits of each group; but none of the first four are ever in the lists\ndegraded to the second or third group, and none of these are ever\npromoted beyond their own class. So there were apparently degrees\namong the Twelve, depending, no doubt, on spiritual receptivity, each\nman being as close to the Lord, and gifted with as much of the\nsunshine of His love, as he was fit for.\n\nFurther, their places in relation to each other vary. The first four\nare always first, and Peter is always at their head; but in Matthew\nand Luke, the pairs of brothers are kept together, while, in Mark,\nAndrew is parted from his brother Simon, and put last of the first\nfour. That place indicates the closer relation of the other three to\nJesus, of which several instances will occur to every one. But Mark\nputs James before John, and his list evidently reflects the memory of\nthe original superiority of James as probably the elder. There was a\ntime when John was known as 'James's brother.' But the time came, as\nActs shows, when John took precedence, and was closely linked with\nPeter as the two leaders. So the ties of kindred may be loosened, and\nnew bonds of fellowship created by similarity of relation to Jesus. In\nHis kingdom, the elder may fall behind the younger. Rank in it depends\non likeness to the king.\n\nThe surname of Boanerges, 'Sons of Thunder,' given to the brothers,\ncan scarcely be supposed to commemorate a characteristic prior to\ndiscipleship. Christ does not perpetuate old faults in his servants'\nnew names. It must rather refer to excellences which were heightened\nand hallowed in them by following Jesus. Probably, therefore, it\npoints to a certain majesty of utterance. Do we not hear the boom of\nthunder-peals in the prologue to John's Gospel, perhaps the grandest\nwords ever written?\n\nIn the second quartet, Bartholomew is probably Nathanael; and, if so,\nhis conjunction with Philip is an interesting coincidence with John i.\n45, which tells that Philip brought him to Jesus. All three Gospels\nput the two names together, as if the two men had kept up their\nassociation; but, in Acts, Thomas takes precedence of Bartholomew, as\nif a closer spiritual relationship had by degrees sprung up between\nPhilip, the leader of the second group, and Thomas, which slackened\nthe old bond. Note that these two, who are coupled in Acts, are two of\nthe interlocutors in the final discourses in the upper room (John\nxiv.). Mark, like Luke, puts Matthew before Thomas; but Matthew puts\nhimself last, and adds his designation of 'publican,'--a beautiful\nexample of humility.\n\nThe last group contains names which have given commentators trouble. I\nam not called on to discuss the question of the identity of the James\nwho is one of its members. Thaddeus is by Luke called Judas, both in\nhis Gospel and in the Acts; and by Matthew, according to one reading,\nLebbaeus. Both names are probably surnames, the former being probably\nderived from a word meaning _breast_, and the latter from one\nsignifying _heart_. They seem, therefore, to be nearly equivalent, and\nmay express large-heartedness.\n\nSimon 'the Canaanite' (Auth. Ver.) is properly 'the Canan\u00e6an' (Rev.\nVer.). There was no alien in blood among the Twelve. The name is a\nlate Aramaic word meaning _zealot_. Hence Luke translates it for\nGentile readers. He was one of the fanatical sect who would not have\nanything to do with Rome, and who played such a terrible part in the\nfinal catastrophe of Israel. The baser elements were purged out of his\nfiery enthusiasm when he became Christ's man. The hallowing and\ncurbing of earthly passion, the ennobling of enthusiasm, are achieved\nwhen the pure flame of love to Christ burns up their dross.\n\nJudas Iscariot closes the list, cold and venomous as a snake.\nEnthusiasm in him there was none. The problem of his character is too\ncomplex to be entered on here. But we may lay to heart the warning\nthat, if a man is not knit to Christ by heart's love and obedience,\nthe more he comes into contact with Jesus the more will he recoil from\nHim, till at last he is borne away by a passion of detestation. Christ\nis either a sure foundation or a stone of stumbling.\n\n\n\n'HE IS BESIDE HIMSELF'\n\n\n'And when His friends heard of it, they went out to lay hold on Him:\nfor they said, He is beside Himself'--Mark iii. 21.\n\nThere had been great excitement in the little town of Capernaum in\nconsequence of Christ's teachings and miracles. It had been\nintensified by His infractions of the Rabbinical Sabbath law, and by\nHis appointment of the twelve Apostles. The sacerdotal party in\nCapernaum apparently communicated with Jerusalem, with the result of\nbringing a deputation from the Sanhedrim to look into things, and see\nwhat this new rabbi was about. A plot for His assassination was\nsecretly on foot. And at this juncture the incident of my text, which\nwe owe to Mark alone of the Evangelists, occurs. Christ's friends,\napparently the members of His own family--sad to say, as would appear\nfrom the context, including His mother--came with a kindly design to\nrescue their misguided kinsman from danger, and laying hands upon Him,\nto carry Him off to some safe restraint in Nazareth, where He might\nindulge His delusions without doing any harm to Himself. They wish to\nexcuse His eccentricities on the ground that He is not quite\nresponsible--scarcely Himself; and so to blunt the point of the more\nhostile explanation of the Pharisees that He is in league with\nBeelzebub.\n\nConceive of that! The Incarnate Wisdom shielded by friends from the\naccusation that He is a demoniac by the apology that He is a lunatic!\nWhat do you think of popular judgment?\n\nBut this half-pitying, half-contemptuous, and wholly benevolent excuse\nfor Jesus, though it be the words of friends, is like the words of His\nenemies, in that it contains a distorted reflection of His true\ncharacter. And if we will think about it, I fancy that we may gather\nfrom it some lessons not altogether unprofitable.\n\nI. The first point, then, that I make, is just this--there was\nsomething in the character of Jesus Christ which could be plausibly\nexplained to commonplace people as madness.\n\nA well-known modern author has talked a great deal about 'the sweet\nreasonableness of Jesus Christ.' His contemporaries called it simple\ninsanity; if they did not say 'He hath a devil,' as well as 'He is\nmad.'\n\nNow, if we try to throw ourselves back to the life of Jesus Christ, as\nit was unfolded day by day, and think nothing about either what\npreceded in the revelation of the Old Covenant, or what followed in\nthe history of Christianity, we shall not be so much at a loss to\naccount for such explanations of it as these of my text. Remember that\ncharges like these, in all various keys of contempt or of pity, or of\nfierce hostility, have been cast against all innovators, against every\nman that has broken a new path; against all teachers that have cut\nthemselves apart from tradition and encrusted formulas; against every\nman that has waged war with the conventionalisms of society; against\nall idealists who have dreamed dreams and seen visions; against every\nman that has been touched with a lofty enthusiasm of any sort; and,\nmost of all, against all to whom God and their relations to Him, the\nspiritual world and their relations to it, the future life and their\nrelations to that, have become dominant forces and motives in their\nlives.\n\nThe short and easy way with which the world excuses itself from the\npoignant lessons and rebukes which come from such lives is something\nlike that of my text, 'He is beside himself.' And the proof that he is\nbeside himself is that he does not act in the same fashion as these\nincomparably wise people that make up the majority in every age. There\nis nothing that commonplace men hate like anything fresh and original.\nThere is nothing that men of low aims are so utterly bewildered to\nunderstand, and which so completely passes all the calculus of which\nthey are masters, as lofty self-abnegation. And wherever you get men\nsmitten with such, or with anything like it, you will find all the\nlow-aimed people gathering round them like bats round a torch in a\ncavern, flapping their obscene wings and uttering their harsh croaks,\nand only desiring to quench the light.\n\nOne of our cynical authors says that it is the mark of a genius that\nall the dullards are against him. It is the mark of the man who dwells\nwith God that all the people whose portion is in this life with one\nconsent say, 'He is beside himself.'\n\nAnd so the Leader of them all was served in His day; and that purest,\nperfectest, noblest, loftiest, most utterly self-oblivious, and\nGod-and-man-devoted life that ever was lived upon earth, was disposed\nof in this extremely simple method, so comforting to the complacency\nof the critics--either 'He is beside Himself,' or 'He hath a devil.'\n\nAnd yet, is not the saying a witness to the presence in that wondrous\nand gentle career of an element entirely unlike what exists in the\nmost of mankind? Here was a new star in the heavens, and the law of\nits orbit was manifestly different from that of all the rest. That is\nwhat 'eccentric' means--that the life to which it applies does not\nmove round the same centre as do the other satellites, but has a path\nof its own. Away out yonder somewhere, in the infinite depths, lay the\nhidden point which drew it to itself and determined its magnificent\nand overwhelmingly vast orbit. These men witness to Jesus Christ, even\nby their half excuse, half reproach, that His was a life unique and\ninexplicable by the ordinary motives which shape the little lives of\nthe masses of mankind. They witness to His entire neglect of ordinary\nand low aims; to His complete absorption in lofty purposes, which to\nHis purblind would-be critics seem to be delusions and fond\nimaginations that could never be realised. They witness to what His\ndisciples remembered had been written of Him, 'The zeal of Thy house\nhath eaten Me up'; to His perfect devotion to man and to God. They\nwitness to His consciousness of a mission; and there is nothing that\nmen are so ready to resent as that. To tell a world, engrossed in self\nand low aims, that one is sent from God to do His will, and to spread\nit among men, is the sure way to have all the heavy artillery and the\nlighter weapons of the world turned against one.\n\nThese characteristics of Jesus seem then to be plainly implied in that\nallegation of insanity--lofty aims, absolute originality, utter\nself-abnegation, the continual consciousness of communion with God,\ndevotion to the service of man, and the sense of being sent by God for\nthe salvation of the world. It was because of these that His friends\nsaid, 'He is beside Himself.'\n\nThese men judged themselves by judging Jesus Christ. And all men do.\nThere are as many different estimates of a great man as there are\npeople to estimate, and hence the diversity of opinion about all the\ncharacters that fill history and the galleries of the past. The eye\nsees what it brings and no more. To discern the greatness of a great\nman, or the goodness of a good one, is to possess, in lower measure,\nsome portion of that which we discern. Sympathy is the condition of\ninsight into character. And so our Lord said once, 'He that receiveth\na prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a prophet's reward,'\nbecause he is a dumb prophet himself, and has a lower power of the\nsame gift in him, which is eloquent on the prophet's lips.\n\nIn like manner, to discern what is in Christ is the test of whether\nthere is any of it in myself. And thus it is no mere arbitrary\nappointment which suspends your salvation and mine on our answer to\nthis question, 'What think ye of Christ?' The answer will be--I was\ngoing to say--the elixir of our whole moral and spiritual nature. It\nwill be the outcome of our inmost selves. This ploughshare turns up\nthe depths of the soil. That is eternally true which the grey-bearded\nSimeon, the representative of the Old, said when he took the Infant in\nhis arms and looked down upon the unconscious, placid, smooth face.\n'This Child is set for the rise and fall of many in Israel, that the\nthoughts of many hearts may be revealed.' Your answer to that question\ndiscloses your whole spiritual condition and capacities. And so to\njudge Christ is to be judged by Him; and what we think Him to be, that\nwe make Him to ourselves. The question which tests us is not merely,\n'Whom do men say that I am?' It is easy to answer that; but this is\nthe all-important interrogation, 'Whom do _ye_ say that I am?' I pray\nthat we may each answer as he to whom it was first put answered it,\n'Rabbi, Thou art the Son of God, Thou art the King of Israel!'\n\nII. Secondly, mark the similarity of the estimate which will be passed\nby the world on all Christ's true followers.\n\nThe same elements exist to-day, the same intolerance of anything\nhigher than the low level, the same incapacity to comprehend simple\ndevotion and lofty aims, the same dislike of a man who comes and\nrebukes by his silent presence the vices in which he takes no part.\nAnd it is a great deal easier to say, 'Poor fool! enthusiastic\nfanatic!' than it is to lay to heart the lesson that lies in such a\nlife.\n\nThe one thing, or at least the principal thing, which the Christianity\nof this generation wants is a little more of this madness. It would be\na great deal better for us who call ourselves Christians if we had\nearned and deserved the world's sneer, 'He is beside himself.' But our\nmodern Christianity, like an epicure's rare wines, is preferred iced.\nAnd the last thing that anybody would think of suggesting in\nconnection with the demeanour--either the conduct or the words--of the\naverage Christian man of this day is that his religion had touched his\nbrain a little.\n\nBut, dear friends, go in Christ's footsteps and you will have the same\nmissiles flung at you. If a church or an individual has earned the\npraise of the outside ring of godless people because its or his\nreligion is 'reasonable and moderate; and kept in its proper place;\nand not allowed to interfere with social enjoyments, and political and\nmunicipal corruptions,' and the like, then there is much reason to ask\nwhether that church or man is Christian after Christ's pattern. Oh, I\npray that there may come down on the professing Church of this\ngeneration a baptism of the Spirit; and I am quite sure that when that\ncomes, the people that admire moderation and approve of religion, but\nlike it to be 'kept in its own place,' will be all ready to say, when\nthey hear the 'sons and the daughters prophesying, and the old men\nseeing visions, and the young men dreaming dreams,' and the fiery\ntongues uttering their praises of God, 'These men are full of new\nwine!' Would we _were_ full of the new wine of the Spirit! Do you\nthink any one would say of your religion that you were 'beside\nyourself,' because you made so much of it? They said it about your\nMaster, and if you were like Him it would be said, in one tone or\nanother, about you. We are all desperately afraid of enthusiasm\nto-day. It seems to me that it is _the_ want of the Christian Church,\nand that we are not enthusiastic because we don't half believe the\ntruths that we say are our creed.\n\nOne more word. Christian men and women have to make up their minds to\ngo on in the path of devotion, conformity to Christ's pattern,\nself-sacrificing surrender, without minding one bit what is said about\nthem. Brethren, I do not think Christian people are in half as much\ndanger of dropping the standard of the Christian life by reason of the\nsarcasms of the world, as they are by reason of the low tone of the\nChurch. Don't you take your ideas of what a reasonable Christian life\nis from the men round you, howsoever they may profess to be Christ's\nfollowers. And let us keep so near the Master that we may be able to\nsay, 'With me it is a very small matter to be judged of you, or of\nman's judgment. He that judgeth me is the Lord.' Never mind, though\nthey say, 'Beside himself!' Never mind, though they say, 'Oh! utterly\nextravagant and impracticable.' Better that than to be patted on the\nback by a world that likes nothing so well as a Church with its teeth\ndrawn, and its claws cut; which may be made a plaything and an\nornament by the world. And that is what much of our modern\nChristianity has come to be.\n\nIII. Lastly, notice the sanity of the insane.\n\nI have only space to put before you three little pictures, and ask you\nwhat you think of them. I dare say the originals might be found among\nus without much search.\n\nHere is one. Suppose a man who, like the most of us, believes that\nthere is a God, believes that he has something to do with Him,\nbelieves that he is going to die, believes that the future state is,\nin some way or other, and in some degree, one of retribution; and from\nMonday morning to Saturday night he ignores all these facts, and never\nallows them to influence one of his actions. May I venture to speak\ndirect to this hypothetical person, whose originals are dotted about\nin my audience? It would be the very same to you if you said 'No'\ninstead of 'Yes' to all these affirmations. The fact that there is a\nGod does not make a bit of difference to what you do, or what you\nthink, or what you feel. The fact that there is a future life makes\njust as little difference. You are going on a voyage next week, and\nyou never dream of getting your outfit. You believe all these things,\nyou are an intelligent man--you are very likely, in a great many ways,\na very amiable and pleasant one; you do many things very well; you\ncultivate congenial virtues, and you abhor uncongenial vices; but you\nnever think about God; and you have made absolutely no preparation\nwhatever for stepping into the scene in which you know that you are to\nlive.\n\nWell, you may be a very wise man, a student with high aims, cultivated\nunderstanding, and all the rest of it. I want to know whether, taking\ninto account all that you are, and your inevitable connection with\nGod, and your certain death and certain life in a state of\nretribution--I want to know whether we should call your conduct sanity\nor insanity? Which?\n\nTake another picture. Here is a man that believes--really\nbelieves--the articles of the Christian creed, and in some measure has\nreceived them into his heart and life. He believes that Jesus Christ,\nthe Son of God, died for him upon the Cross, and yet his heart has but\nthe feeblest tick of pulsating love in answer. He believes that prayer\nwill help a man in all circumstances, and yet he hardly ever prays. He\nbelieves that self-denial is the law of the Christian life, and yet he\nlives for himself. He believes that he is here as a 'pilgrim' and as a\n'sojourner,' and yet his heart clings to the world, and his hand would\nfain cling to it, like that of a drowning man swept over Niagara, and\ncatching at anything on the banks. He believes that he is sent into\nthe world to be a 'light' of the world, and yet from out of his\nself-absorbed life there has hardly ever come one sparkle of light\ninto any dark heart. And that is a picture, not exaggerated, of the\nenormous majority of professing Christians in so-called Christian\nlands. And I want to know whether we shall call that sanity or\ninsanity?\n\nThe last of my little miniatures is that of a man who keeps in close\ntouch with Jesus Christ, and so, like Him, can say, 'Lo! I come; I\ndelight to do Thy will, O Lord. Thy law is within my heart.' He yields\nto the strong motives and principles that flow from the Cross of Jesus\nChrist, and, drawn by the 'mercies of God,' gives himself a 'living\nsacrifice' to be used as God will. Aims as lofty as the Throne which\nChrist His Brother fills; sacrifice as entire as that on which his\ntrembling hope relies; realisation of the unseen future as vivid and\nclear as His who could say that He was '_in_ Heaven' whilst He walked\nthe earth; subjugation of self as complete as that of the Lord's, who\npleased not Himself, and came not to do His own will--these are some\nof the characteristics which mark the true disciple of Jesus Christ.\nAnd I want to know whether the conduct of the man who believes in the\nlove that God hath to him, as manifested in the Cross, and surrenders\nhis whole self thereto, despising the world and living for God, for\nChrist, for man, for eternity--whether his conduct is insanity or\nsanity? 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.'\n\n\n\nTHE MISTAKES OF CHRIST'S FOES AND FRIENDS\n\n\n'And the scribes which came down from Jerusalem said, He hath\nBeelzebub, and by the prince of the devils casteth He out devils. 23.\nAnd He called them unto Him, and said unto them in parables, How can\nSatan cast out Satan? 24. And if a kingdom be divided against itself,\nthat kingdom cannot stand. 25. And if a house be divided against\nitself, that house cannot stand. 26. And if Satan rise up against\nhimself, and be divided, he cannot stand, but hath an end. 27. No man\ncan enter into a strong man's house, and spoil his goods, except he\nwill first bind the strong man; and then he will spoil his house. 28.\nVerily I say unto you, All sins shall be forgiven unto the sons of\nmen, and blasphemies wherewith soever they shall blaspheme: 29. But he\nthat shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness,\nbut is in danger of eternal damnation: 30. Because they said, He hath\nan unclean spirit. 31. There came then His brethren and His mother,\nand, standing without, sent unto Him, calling Him. 32. And the\nmultitude sat about Him, and they said unto Him, Behold, Thy mother\nand Thy brethren without seek for Thee. 33. And He answered them,\nsaying, Who is my mother, or my brethren? 34. And He looked round\nabout on them which sat about Him, and said, Behold My mother and My\nbrethren! 35. For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is My\nbrother, and My sister, and mother.'--Mark iii. 22-35.\n\nWe have in this passage three parts,--the outrageous official\nexplanation of Christ and His works, the Lord's own solution of His\nmiracles, and His relatives' well-meant attempt to secure Him, with\nHis answer to it.\n\nI. The scribes, like Christ's other critics, judged themselves in\njudging Him, and bore witness to the truths which they were eager to\ndeny. Their explanation would be ludicrous, if it were not dreadful.\nMark that it distinctly admits His miracles. It is not fashionable at\npresent to attach much weight to the fact that none of Christ's\nenemies ever doubted these. Of course, the credence of men, in an age\nwhich believed in the possibility of the supernatural, is more easy,\nand their testimony less cogent, than that of a jury of\ntwentieth-century scientific sceptics. But the expectation of miracle\nhad been dead for centuries when Christ came; and at first, at all\nevents, no anticipation that He would work them made it easier to\nbelieve that He did.\n\nIt would have been a sure way of exploding His pretensions, if the\nofficials could have shown that His miracles were tricks. Not without\nweight is the attestation from the foe that 'this man casteth out\ndemons.' The preposterous explanation that He cast out demons by\nBeelzebub, is the very last resort of hatred so deep that it will\nfather an absurdity rather than accept the truth. It witnesses to the\ninefficiency of explanations of Him which omit the supernatural. The\nscribes recognised that here was a man who was in touch with the\nunseen. They fell back upon 'by Beelzebub,' and thereby admitted that\nhumanity, without seeing something more at the back of it, never made\nsuch a man as Jesus.\n\nIt is very easy to solve an insoluble problem, if you begin by taking\nthe insoluble elements out of it. That is how a great many modern\nattempts to account for Christianity go to work. Knock out the\nmiracles, waive Christ's own claims as mistaken reports, declare His\nresurrection to be entirely unhistorical, and the remainder will be\neasily accounted for, and not worth accounting for. But the whole life\nof the Christ of the Gospels is adequately explained by no explanation\nwhich leaves out His coming forth from the Father, and His exercise of\npowers above those of humanity and 'nature.'\n\nThis explanation is an instance of the credulity of unbelief. It is\nmore difficult to believe the explanation than the alternative which\nit is framed to escape. If like produces like, Christ cannot be\nexplained by anything but the admission of His divine nature.\nSerpents' eggs do not hatch out into doves. The difficulties of faith\nare 'gnats' beside the 'camels' which unbelief has to swallow.\n\nII. The true explanation of Christ's power over demoniacs. Jesus has\nno difficulty in putting aside the absurd theory that, in destroying\nthe kingdom of evil, He was a servant of evil and its dark ruler.\nCommon-sense says, If Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against\nhimself, and his kingdom cannot stand. An old play is entitled, 'The\nDevil is an Ass,' but he is not such an ass as to fight against\nhimself. As the proverb has it, 'Hawks do not pick out hawks' eyes.'\n\nIt would carry us too far to deal at length with the declarations of\nour Lord here, which throw a dim light into the dark world of\nsupernatural evil. His words are far too solemn and didactic to be\ntaken as accommodations to popular prejudice, or as mere metaphor. Is\nit not strange that people will believe in spiritual communications,\nwhen they are vouched for by a newspaper editor, more readily than\nwhen Christ asserts their reality? Is it not strange that scientists,\nwho find difficulty in the importance which Christianity attaches to\nman in the plan of the universe, and will not believe that all its\nstarry orbs were built for him (which Christianity does not allege),\nshould be incredulous of teachings which reveal a crowd of higher\nintelligences?\n\nJesus not only tests the futile explanation by common-sense, but goes\non to suggest the true one. He accepts the belief that there is a\n'prince of the demons.' He regards the souls of men who have not\nyielded themselves to God as His 'goods.' He declares that the lord of\nthe house must be bound before his property can be taken from him. We\ncannot stay to enlarge on the solemn view of the condition of\nunredeemed men thus given. Let us not put it lightly away. But we must\nnote how deep into the centre of Christ's work this teaching leads us.\nTranslated into plain language it just means that Christ by\nincarnation, life, death, resurrection, ascension, and present work\nfrom the throne, has broken the power of evil in its central hold. He\nhas crushed the serpent's head, his heel is firmly planted on it, and,\nthough the reptile may still 'swinge the scaly horror of his folded\ntail,' it is but the dying flurries of the creature. He was manifested\n'that He might destroy the works of the devil.'\n\nNo trace of indignation can be detected in Christ's answer to the\nhideous charge. But His patient heart overflows in pity for the\nreckless slanderers, and He warns them that they are coming near the\nedge of a precipice. Their malicious blindness is hurrying them\ntowards a sin which hath never forgiveness. Blasphemy is, in form,\ninjurious speaking, and in essence, it is scorn or malignant\nantagonism. The Holy Spirit is the divine agent in revealing God's\nheart and will. To blaspheme Him is 'the external symptom of a heart\nso radically and finally set against God that no power which God can\nconsistently use will ever save it.' 'The sin, therefore, can only be\nthe culmination of a long course of self-hardening and depraving.' It\nis unforgivable, because the soul which can recognise God's revelation\nof Himself in all His goodness and moral perfection, and be stirred\nonly to hatred thereby, has reached a dreadful climax of hardness, and\nhas ceased to be capable of being influenced by His beseeching. It has\npassed beyond the possibility of penitence and acceptance of\nforgiveness. The sin is unforgiven, because the sinner is fixed in\nimpenitence, and his stiffened will cannot bow to receive pardon.\n\nThe true reason why that sin has never forgiveness is suggested by the\naccurate rendering, 'Is guilty of an eternal sin' (R.V.). Since the\nsin is eternal, the forgiveness is impossible. Practically hardened\nand permanent unbelief, conjoined with malicious hatred of the only\nmeans of forgiveness, is the unforgivable sin. Much torture of heart\nwould have been saved if it had been observed that the Scripture\nexpression is not _sin_, but _blasphemy_. Fear that it has been\ncommitted is proof positive that it has not; for, if it have been,\nthere will be no relenting in enmity, nor any wish for deliverance.\n\nBut let not the terrible picture of the depths of impenitence to which\na soul may fall, obscure the blessed universality of the declaration\nfrom Christ's lips which preludes it, and declares that all sin but\nthe sin of not desiring pardon is pardoned. No matter how deep the\nstain, no matter how inveterate the habit, whosoever will can come and\nbe sure of pardon.\n\nIII. The attempt of Christ's relatives to withdraw Him from publicity,\nand His reply to it. Verse 21 tells us that His kindred sent out to\nlay hold on Him; for they thought Him beside Himself. He was to be\nshielded from the crowd of followers, and from the plots of scribes,\nby being kept at home and treated as a harmless lunatic. Think of\nJesus defended from the imputation of being in league with Beelzebub\nby the excuse that He was mad! This visit of His mother and brethren\nmust be connected with their plan to lay hold on Him, in order to\napprehend rightly Christ's answer. If they did not mean to use\nviolence, why should they have tried to get Him away from the crowd of\nfollowers, by a message, when they could have reached Him as easily as\nit did? He knew the snare laid for Him, and puts it aside without\nshaming its contrivers. With a wonderful blending of dignity and\ntenderness, He turns from kinsmen who were not akin, to draw closer to\nHimself, and pour His love over, those who do the will of God.\n\nThe test of relationship with Jesus is obedience to His Father. Christ\nis not laying down the means of becoming His kinsmen, but the tokens\nthat we are such. He is sometimes misunderstood as saying, 'Do God's\nwill without My help, and ye will become My kindred.' What He really\nsays is, 'If ye are My kindred, you will do God's will; and if you do,\nyou will show that you are such.' So the statement that we become His\nkindred by faith does not conflict with this great saying. The two\ntake hold of the Christian life at different points: the one deals\nwith the means of its origination, the other with the tokens of its\nreality. Faith is the root of obedience, obedience is the blossom of\nfaith. Jesus does not stand like a stranger till we have hammered out\nobedience to His Father, and then reward us by welcoming us as His\nbrethren, but He answers our faith by giving us a life kindred with,\nbecause derived from, His own, and then we can obey.\n\nIt is active submission to God's will, not orthodox creed or devout\nemotion, which shows that we are His blood relations. By such\nobedience, we draw His love more and more to us. Though it is not the\nmeans of attaining to kinship with Him, it _is_ the condition of\nreceiving love-tokens from Him, and of increasing affinity with Him.\n\nThat relationship includes and surpasses all earthly ones. Each\nobedient man is, as it were, all three,--mother, sister, and brother.\nOf course the enumeration had reference to the members of the waiting\ngroup, but the remarkable expression has deep truth in it. Christ's\nrelation to the soul covers all various sweetnesses of earthly bonds,\nand is spoken of in terms of many of them. He is the bridegroom, the\nbrother, the companion, and friend. All the scattered fragrances of\nthese are united and surpassed in the transcendent and ineffable union\nof the soul with Jesus. Every lonely heart may find in Him what it\nmost needs, and perhaps is bleeding away its life for the loss or want\nof. To many a weeping mother He has said, pointing to Himself, 'Woman,\nbehold thy son'; to many an orphan He has whispered, revealing His own\nlove, 'Son, behold thy mother.'\n\nAll earthly bonds are honoured most when they are woven into crowns\nfor His head; all human love is then sweetest when it is as a tiny\nmirror in which the great Sun is reflected. Christ is husband,\nbrother, sister, friend, lover, mother, and more than all which these\nsacred names designate,--even Saviour and life. If His blood is in our\nveins, and His spirit is the spirit of our lives, we shall do the will\nof His and our Father in heaven.\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S KINDRED\n\n\n'There came then His brethren and His mother, and, standing without,\nsent unto Him, calling Him. 32. And the multitude sat about Him; and\nthey said unto Him, Behold, Thy mother and Thy brethren without seek\nfor Thee. 33. And He answered them, saying, Who is My mother, or My\nbrethren? 34. And He looked round about on them which sat about Him,\nand said, Behold My mother and My brethren! 35. For whosoever shall do\nthe will of God, the same is My brother, and My sister, and\nmother.'--Mark iii. 31-35.\n\nWe learn from an earlier part of this chapter, and from it only, the\nsignificance of this visit of Christ's brethren and mother. It was\nprompted by the belief that 'He was beside Himself,' and they meant to\nlay hands on Him, possibly with a kindly wish to save Him from a worse\nfate, but certainly to stop His activity. We do not know whether Mary\nconsented, in her mistaken maternal affection, to the scheme, or\nwhether she was brought unwillingly to give a colour to it, and\ninfluence our Lord. The sinister purpose of the visit betrays itself\nin the fact that the brethren did not present themselves before\nChrist, but sent a messenger; although they could as easily have had\naccess to His presence as their messenger could. Apparently they\nwished to get Him by Himself, so as to avoid the necessity of using\nforce against the force that His disciples would be likely to put\nforth. Jesus knew their purpose, though they thought it was hidden\ndeep in the recesses of their breasts. And that falls in with a great\nmany other incidents which indicate His superhuman knowledge of 'the\nthoughts and intents of the heart.'\n\nBut, however that may be, our Lord here, with a singular mixture of\ndignity, tenderness, and decisiveness, puts aside the insidious snare\nwithout shaming its contrivers, and turns from the kinsmen, with whom\nHe had no real bond, to draw closer to Himself, and pour out His love\nover, those who do the will of His Father in heaven. His words go very\ndeep; let us try to gather some, at any rate, of the surface lessons\nwhich they suggest.\n\nI. First, then, the true token of blood relationship to Jesus Christ\nis obedience to God.\n\n'Whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is My brother, and My\nsister, and mother.' Now I must not be betrayed into a digression from\nmy main purpose by dwelling upon what yet is worthy of notice--viz.,\nthe consciousness, on the part of Jesus Christ, which here is\nevidently implied, that the doing of the will of God was the very\ninmost secret of His own being. He was conscious, only and always, of\ndelighting to do the will of God. When, therefore, He found that\ndelight in others, there He recognised a bond of union between Him and\nthem.\n\nWe must carefully observe that these great words of our Lord are not\nintended to describe the means by which men become His kinsfolk, but\nthe tokens that they are such. He is not saying--as superficial\nreaders sometimes run away with the notion that He is saying--'If a\nman will, apart from Me, do the will of God, then he will become My\ntrue kinsman,' but He is saying, 'If you are My kinsman, you will do\nthe will of God, and if you do it, you will show that you are related\nto Myself.' In other words, He is not speaking about the means of\noriginating this relationship, but about the signs of its reality.\nAnd, therefore, the words of my text need, for their full\nunderstanding, and for placing them in due relation to all the rest of\nChrist's teaching, to be laid side by side with other words of His,\nsuch as these:--'Apart from Me ye can do nothing.' For the deepest\ntruth in regard to relationship to Jesus Christ and obedience is this,\nthat the way by which men are made able to do the will of God is by\nreceiving into themselves the very life-blood of Jesus Christ. The\nrelationship must precede the obedience, and the obedience is the\nsign, because it is the sequel, of the relationship.\n\nBut far deeper down than mere affinity lies the true bond between us\nand Christ, and the true means of performing the commandments of God.\nThere must be a passing over into us of His own life-spirit. By His\ninhabiting our hearts, and moulding our wills, and being the life of\nour lives and the soul of our souls, are we made able to do the\ncommandments of the Lord. And so, seeing that actual union with Jesus\nChrist, and the reception into ourselves of His life, is the precedent\ncondition of all true obedience, then the more familiar form of\npresenting the bond between Him and us, which runs through the New\nTestament, falls into its proper place, and the faith, which is the\ncondition of receiving the life of Christ into our hearts, is at once\nthe affinity which makes us His kindred, and the means by which we\nappropriate to ourselves the power of obedient submission and\nconformity to the will of God. 'This is the work of God, that ye\nbelieve on Him whom He hath sent.'\n\nSo, then, my text does not in the slightest degree contradict or\ninterfere with the great teaching that the one way by which we become\nChrist's brethren is by trusting in Him. For the text and the doctrine\nthat faith unites us to Him take up the process at different stages:\nthe one pointing to the means of origination, the other to the tokens\nof reality. Faith is the root, obedience is the flower and the fruit.\nHe that doeth the will of God, does it, not in order that he may\nbecome, but because he already is, possessor of a blood-relationship\nto Jesus Christ.\n\nThen, notice, again, with what emphatic decisiveness our Lord here\ntakes simple, practical obedience in daily life, in little and in\ngreat things, as the manifestation of being akin to Himself. Orthodoxy\nis all very well; religious experiences, inward emotions, sweet,\nprecious, secret feelings and sentiments cannot be over-estimated.\nExternal forms, whether of the more simple or of the more ornate and\nsensuous kind, may be helps for the religious life; and are so in view\nof the weaknesses that are always associated with it. But all these, a\ntrue creed, a belief in the creed, the joyous and deep and secret\nemotions that follow thereupon, and the participation in outward\nservices which may help to these, all these are but scaffolding: the\nbuilding is character and conduct conformed to the will of God.\n\nEvangelical preachers, and those who in the main hold that faith, are\noften charged with putting too little stress on practical homely\nrighteousness. I would that the charge had less substance in it. But\nlet me lay it upon your consciences, dear brethren, now, that no\namount of right credence, no amount of trust, nor of love and hope and\njoy will avail to witness kindred to Christ. It must be the daily\nlife, in its efforts after conformity to the known will of God, in\ngreat things and in small things, that attests the family resemblance.\nIf Christ's blood be in our veins, if 'the law of the spirit of life'\nin Him is the law of the spirit of our lives, then these lives will\nrun parallel with His, in some visible measure, and we, too, shall be\nable to say, 'Lo! I come. I delight to do Thy will; and Thy law is\nwithin my heart.' Obedience is the test of relationship to Jesus.\n\nThen, still further, note how, though we must emphatically dismiss the\nmistake that we make our selves Christ's brethren and friends by\nindependent efforts after keeping the commandments, it is true that,\nin the measure in which we do thus bend our wills to God's will,\nwhether in the way of action or of endurance, we realise more\nblessedly and strongly the tie that binds us to the Lord, and as a\nmatter of fact do receive, in the measure of our obedience, sweet\ntokens of union with Him, and of love in His heart to us. No man will\nfully feel living contact with Jesus Christ if between Christ and him\nthere is a film of conscious and voluntary disobedience to the will of\nGod. The smallest crumb that can come in between two polished plates\nwill prevent their adherence. A trivial sin will slip your hand out of\nChrist's hand; and though His love will still come and linger about\nyou, until the sin is put out it cannot enter in.\n\n  'It can but listen at the gate,\n  And hear the household jar within.'\n\n'He that doeth the will of God, the same is'--and feels himself to\nbe--'My brother, and sister, and mother.'\n\nII. This relationship includes all others.\n\nThat is a very singular form of expression which our Lord employs.\n'Whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is My brother, and\nsister, and mother.' We should have expected, seeing that He was\nspeaking about three different relationships, that He would have used\nthe plural verb, and said, 'The same are My brother, and sister, and\nmother.' And I do not think that it is pedantic grammatical accuracy\nto point out this remarkable form of speech, and even to venture to\ndraw a conclusion from it--viz., that what our Lord meant was, not\nthat if there were three people, of different sexes, and of different\nages, all doing the will of God, one of these sweet names of\nrelationship would apply to A, another to B, and the other to C; but\nthat to each who does the will of God, all the sweetnesses that are\nhived in all the names, and in any other analogous ones that can be\nuttered, belong. Of course the selection here of relationships\nspecified has reference to the composition of that group outside the\ncircle. But there is a great deal more than that in it. Whether you\naccept the grammatical remark that I have made or no, we shall, at\nleast, I suppose, all agree in this, that, in fact, the bond of\nkindred that unites a trusting obedient soul with Jesus Christ does in\nitself include whatsoever of sweetness, of power, of protection, of\nclinging trust, and of any other blessed emotion that makes a shadow\nof Eden still upon earth, has ever been attached to human bonds.\n\nRemember how many of these, Christ, and His servants for Him, have\nlaid their hands upon, and claimed to be His. 'Thy Maker is thy\nhusband'; 'He that hath the Bride is the bridegroom'; 'Go tell My\nbrethren'; 'I have not called you servants, but friends.' And if there\nbe any other sweet names, they belong to Him, and in His one pure,\nall-sufficient love they are all enclosed. Fragmentary preciousnesses\nare strewed about us. There is 'one pearl of great price.' Many\nfragrances come from the flowers that grow on the dunghill of the\nworld, but they are all gathered in Him whose name is 'as ointment\npoured forth,' filling the house with its fragrance.\n\nFor Christ is to us all that all separated lovers and friends can be.\nAnd whatsoever our poor hearts may need most, of human affection and\nsympathy, and may see least possibility of finding now, among the\nincompletenesses and limitations of earth, that Jesus Christ is\nwaiting to be. All solitary souls and mourning hearts may turn\nthemselves to, and rest themselves on, these great words. And as they\nlook at the empty places in their circle, in their homes, and feel the\nache of the empty places in their hearts, they may hear His voice\nsaying, 'Behold My mother and My brethren.' He comes to us all in the\ncharacter that we need most. Just as the great ocean, when it flows in\namongst the land, takes the shape imposed upon it by the containing\nbanks of the loch, so Christ pours Himself into our hearts, and there\nassumes the form that the outline of their emptiness tells we need\nmost. To many, in all generations, who have been weeping over departed\njoys, He says again, though with a different application, turning not\naway from but to Himself mourning eyes and hearts, 'Woman, behold thy\nSon'--not on the cross nor in the grave, but on the throne--'Son,\nbehold Thy mother.'\n\nIII. Lastly, this relationship requires always the subordination, and\nsometimes the sacrifice, of the lower ones.\n\nWe have to think of Christ here as Himself putting away the lower\nclaims, in order more fully to yield Himself to the higher. It was\nbecause it would have been impossible for Him to do the will of His\nFather if He had yielded to the purposes of His brethren and His\nmother, that He steeled His heart and made solemn His tone in refusing\nto go with them.\n\nThat group that had come for Him suggests to us the ways in which\nearthly ties may limit heavenly obedience. In regard to them the\nsituation was complicated, because Jesus Christ was their kinsman\naccording to the flesh, and their Messiah, according to the spirit.\nBut in them their earthly love, and familiarity with Him, hid from\nthem His higher glory; and in them He found impediments to His true\nconsecration, and would-be thwarters of His highest work. And, in like\nmanner, all our earthly relationships may become means of obscuring to\nus the transcendent brightness and greatness of Jesus Christ as our\nSaviour And, in like manner as to Him these, His brethren, became\n'stumbling blocks' that He had decisively to put behind Him, so in\nregard to us 'a man's foes may be those of his own household'; and not\nleast his foes when they are most his idols, his comforts, and his\nsweetnesses. If our earthly loves and relationships obscure to us the\nface of Christ; if we find enough in them for our hearts, and go not\nbeyond them for our true love; if they make us negligent of duty; if\nthey bind us to the present; if they make us careless of that loftier\naffection which alone can satisfy us; if they clog our steps in the\ndivine life, then they are our foes. They need to be always\nsubordinated, and, so subordinated, they are more precious than when\nthey are placed mistakenly foremost. They are better second than\nfirst. They are full of sweetness when our hearts know a sweetness\nsurpassing theirs; they are robbed of their possible power to harm\nwhen they are rigidly held in inferiority to the one absolute and\nsupreme love. There need be no collision--there will be no\ncollision--if the second is second and the first is first. But\nsometimes beggars get upon horseback, and the crew mutinies and would\ndisplace the commander, and then there is nothing for it but\nsacrifice. 'If thy hand offend thee, cut it off and cast it from\nthee.' 'I communed not with flesh and blood,' and we must not, if ever\nthey conflict with our supreme devotion to Jesus Christ.\n\nThese other things and relationships are precious to us, but He is\npriceless. They are shadows, but He is the substance. They are brooks\nby the way; He is the boundless, bottomless ocean of delights and\nloves. Shall we not always subordinate--and sometimes, if needful,\nsacrifice--the less to the greater? If we do, we shall get the less\nback, greatened by its surrender. 'He that loveth father or mother\nmore than Me is not worthy of Me' commands the sacrifice. 'There is no\nman that hath left brethren or sisters, or father or mother, or wife\nor children, for My sake and the Gospel's, but he shall receive a\nhundredfold _now_, in this time' promises the reward.\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S RELATIONS\n\n\n'Whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is My brother, and My\nsister, and mother.'--Mark iii. 35.\n\nThere was a conspiracy to seize Jesus because He is 'mad,' and Mary\nwas in the plot!\n\nI. The example for us.\n\n(1) Of how all natural and human ties and affections are to be\nsubordinated to doing God's will.\n\nObedience to Him is the first and main thing to which everything else\nbows, and which determines everything.\n\nIf others compete or interfere, reject them.\n\nOut of that common obedience new ties are formed among men.\n\n(2) Of how all these ties may be doubled in power and preciousness by\nbeing based on that obedience.\n\nII. The promise for us.\n\nOf Christ's loving relationship in which He finds delight; in which He\nsustains and transcends all these in His own proper person and to\neach.\n\n\n\nFOUR SOILS FOR ONE SEED\n\n\n'And when He was alone, they that were about Him with the twelve asked\nof Him the parable. 11. And He said unto them, Unto you it is given to\nknow the mystery of the kingdom of God: but unto them that are\nwithout, all these things are done in parables: 12. That seeing they\nmay see, and not perceive; and hearing they may hear, and not\nunderstand; lest at any time they should be converted, and their sins\nshould be forgiven them. 13. And He said unto them, Know ye not this\nparable? and how then will ye know all parables? 14. The sower soweth\nthe word. 15. And these are they by the way side, where the word is\nsown; but when they have heard, Satan cometh immediately, and taketh\naway the word that was sown in their hearts. 16. And these are they\nlikewise which are sown on stony ground; who, when they have heard the\nword, immediately receive it with gladness; 17. And have no root in\nthemselves, and so endure but for a time: afterward, when affliction\nor persecution ariseth for the word's sake, immediately they are\noffended. 18. And these are they which are sown among thorns; such as\nhear the word, 19. And the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness\nof riches, and the lusts of other things entering in, choke the word,\nand it becometh unfruitful. 20. And these are they which are sown on\ngood ground; such as hear the word, and receive it, and bring forth\nfruit, some thirtyfold, some sixty, and some an hundred.'--Mark iv.\n10-20.\n\nDean Stanley and others have pointed out how the natural features of\nthe land round the lake of Gennesaret are reflected in the parable of\nthe sower. But we must go deeper than that to find its occasion. It\nwas not because Jesus may have seen a sower in a field which had these\nthree varieties of soil that He spoke, but because He saw the\nfrivolous crowd gathered to hear His words. The sad, grave description\nof the threefold kinds of vainly-sown ground is the transcript of His\nclear and sorrowful insight into the real worth of the enthusiasm of\nthe eager listeners on the beach. He was under no illusions about it;\nand, in this parable, He seeks to warn His disciples against expecting\nmuch from it, and to bring its subjects to a soberer estimate of what\nHis word required of them. The full force and pathos of the parable is\nfelt only when it is regarded as the expression of our Lord's keen\nconsciousness of His wasted words. This passage falls into two\nparts--Christ's explanation of the reasons for His use of parables,\nand His interpretation of the parable itself.\n\nI. Christ was the centre of three circles: the outermost consisting of\nthe fluctuating masses of merely curious hearers; the second, of true\nbut somewhat loosely attached disciples, whom Mark here calls 'they\nthat were about Him'; and the innermost, the twelve. The two latter\nappear, in our first verse, as asking further instruction as to 'the\nparable,' a phrase which includes both parts of Christ's answer. The\nstatement of His reason for the use of parables is startling. It\nsounds as if those who needed light most were to get least of it, and\nas if the parabolic form was deliberately adopted for the express\npurpose of hiding the truth. No wonder that men have shrunk from such\na thought, and tried to soften down the terrible words. Inasmuch as a\nparable is the presentation of some spiritual truth under the guise of\nan incident belonging to the material sphere, it follows, from its\nvery nature, that it may either reveal or hide the truth, and that it\nwill do the former to susceptible, and the latter to unsusceptible,\nsouls. The eye may either dwell upon the coloured glass or on the\nlight that streams through it; and, as is the case with all\nrevelations of spiritual realities through sensuous mediums, gross and\nearthly hearts will not rise above the medium, which to them, by their\nown fault, becomes a medium of obscuration, not of revelation. This\ndouble aspect belongs to all revelation, which is both a 'savour of\nlife unto life and of death unto death.' It is most conspicuous in the\nparable, which careless listeners may take for a mere story, and which\nthose who feel and see more deeply will apprehend in its depth. These\ntwofold effects are certain, and must therefore be embraced in\nChrist's purpose; for we cannot suppose that issues of His teaching\nescaped His foresight; and all must be regarded as part of His design.\nBut may we not draw a distinction between design and desire? The\nprimary purpose of all revelation is to reveal. If the only intention\nwere to hide, silence would secure that, and the parable were\nneedless. But if the twofold operation is intended, we can understand\nhow mercy and righteous retribution both preside over the use of\nparables; how the thin veil hides that it may reveal, and how the very\nobscurity may draw some grosser souls to a longer gaze, and so may\nlead to a perception of the truth, which, in its purer form, they are\nneither worthy nor capable of receiving. No doubt, our Lord here\nannounces a very solemn law, which runs through all the divine\ndealings, 'To him that hath shall be given; and from him that hath\nnot, shall be taken away even that which he hath.'\n\nII. We turn to the exposition of the parable of the sower, or rather\nof the fourfold soils in which he sows the seed. A sentence at the\nbeginning disposes of the personality of the sower, which in Mark's\nversion does not refer exclusively to Christ, but includes all who\ncarry the word to men. The likening of 'the word' to seed needs no\nexplanation. The tiny, living nucleus of force, which is thrown\nbroadcast, and must sink underground in order to grow, which does\ngrow, and comes to light again in a form which fills the whole field\nwhere it is sown, and nourishes life as well as supplies material for\nanother sowing, is the truest symbol of the truth in its working on\nthe spirit. The threefold causes of failure are arranged in\nprogressive order. At every stage of growth there are enemies. The\nfirst sowing never gets into the ground at all; the second grows a\nlittle, but its greenness soon withers; the third has a longer life,\nand a yet sadder failure, because a nearer approach to fertility. The\ntypes of character represented are unreceptive carelessness, emotional\nfacility of acceptance, and earthly-mindedness, scotched, but not\nkilled, by the word. The dangers which assault, but too successfully,\nthe seed are the personal activity of Satan, opposition from without,\nand conflicting desires within. On all the soils the seed has been\nsown by hand; for drills are modern inventions; and sowing broadcast\nis the only right husbandry in Christ's field with Christ's seed. He\nis a poor workman, and an unfaithful one, who wants to pick his\nground. Sow everywhere; 'Thou canst not tell which shall prosper,\nwhether this or that.' The character of the soil is not irrevocably\nfixed; but the trodden path may be broken up to softness, and the\nstony heart changed, and the soul filled with cares and lusts be\ncleared, and any soil may become good ground. So the seed is to be\nflung out broadcast; and prayer for seed and soil will often turn the\nweeping sower into the joyous reaper.\n\nThe seed sown on the trodden footpath running across the field never\nsinks below the surface. It lies there, and has no real contact, nor\nany chance of growth. It must be in, not on, the ground, if its\nmysterious power is to be put forth. A pebble is as likely to grow as\na seed, if both lie side by side, on the surface. Is not this the\ndescription of a mournfully large proportion of hearers of God's\ntruth? It never gets deeper than their ears, or, at the most, effects\na shallow lodgment on the surface of their minds. So many feet pass\nalong the path, and beat it into hardness, that the truth has no\nchance to take root. Habitual indifference to the gospel, masked by an\nutterly unmeaning and unreal acceptance of it, and by equally habitual\ndecorous attendance on its preaching, is the condition of a dreadfully\nlarge proportion of church-goers. Their very familiarity with the\ntruth robs it of all penetrating power. They know all about it, as\nthey suppose; and so they listen to it as they would to the clank of a\nmill-wheel to which they were accustomed, missing its noise if it\nstops, and liking to be sent to sleep by its hum. Familiar truth often\nlies 'bedridden in the dormitory of the soul, beside exploded errors.'\n\nAnd what comes of this idle hearing, without acceptance or obedience?\nTruth which is common, and which a man supposes himself to believe,\nwithout having ever reflected on it, or let it influence conduct, is\nsure to die out. If we do not turn our beliefs into practice they will\nnot long be our beliefs. Neglected impressions fade; the seed is only\nsafe when it is buried. There are flocks of hungry, sharp-eyed,\nquick-flying thieves ready to pounce down on every exposed grain. So\nMark uses here again his favourite 'straightway' to express the swift\ndisappearance of the seed. As soon as the preacher's voice is silent,\nor the book closed, the words are forgotten. The impression of a\ngliding keel on a smooth lake is not more evanescent.\n\nThe distinct reference to Satan as the agent in removing the seed is\nnot to be passed by lightly. Christ's words about demons have been\nemptied of meaning by the allegation that He was only accommodating\nHimself to the superstition of the times, but no explanation of that\nsort will do in this case. He surely commits Himself here to the\nassertion of the existence and agency of Satan; and surely those who\nprofess to receive His words as the truth ought not to make light of\nthem, in reference to so solemn and awe-inspiring a revelation.\n\nThe seed gets rather farther on the road to fruit in the second case.\nA thin surface of mould above a shelf of rock is like a forcing-house\nin hot countries. The stone keeps the heat and stimulates growth. The\nvery thing that prevents deep rooting facilitates rapid shooting. The\ngreen spikelets will be above ground there long before they show in\ndeeper soil. There would be many such hearers in the 'very great\nmultitude' on the shore, who were attracted, they scarcely knew why,\nand were the more enthusiastic the less they understood the real scope\nof Christ's teaching. The disciple who pressed forward with his\nexcited and unasked 'Master, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou\ngoest!' was one of such--well-meaning, perfectly sincere, warmly\naffected, and completely unreliable. Lightly come is lightly go. When\nsuch people forsake their fervent purposes, and turn their backs on\nwhat they have been so eagerly pursuing, they are quite consistent;\nfor they are obeying the uppermost impulse in both cases, and, as they\nwere easily drawn to follow without consideration, they are easily\ndriven back with as little. The first taste of supposed good secured\ntheir giddy-pated adhesion; the first taste of trouble ensures their\ndesertion. They are the same men acting in the same fashion at both\ntimes. Two things are marked by our Lord as suspicious in such easily\nwon discipleship--its suddenness and its joyfulness. Feelings which\nare so easily stirred are superficial. A puff of wind sets a shallow\npond in wavelets. Quick maturity means brief life and swift decay, as\nevery 'revival' shows. The more earnestly we believe in the\npossibility of sudden conversions, the more we should remember this\nwarning, and make sure that, if they are sudden, they shall be\nthorough, which they may be. The swiftness is not so suspicious if it\nbe not accompanied with the other doubtful characteristic--namely,\nimmediate joy. Joy is the result of true acceptance of the gospel; but\nnot the first result. Without consciousness of sin and apprehension of\njudgment there is no conversion. We lay down no rules as to depth or\nduration of the 'godly sorrow' which precedes all well-grounded 'joy\nin the Lord'; but the Christianity which has taken a flying leap over\nthe valley of humiliation will scarcely reach a firm standing on the\nrock. He who 'straightway with joy' receives the word, will\nstraightway, with equal precipitation, cast it away when the\ndifficulties and oppositions which meet all true discipleship begin to\ndevelop themselves. Fair-weather crews will desert when storms begin\nto blow.\n\nThe third sort of soil brings things still farther on before failure\ncomes. The seed is not only covered and germinating, but has actually\nbegun to be fruitful. The thorns are supposed to have been cut down,\nbut their roots have been left, and they grow faster than the wheat.\nThey take the 'goodness' out of the ground, and block out sun and air;\nand so the stalks, which promised well, begin to get pale and droop,\nand the half-formed ear comes to nothing, or, as the other version of\nthe parable has it, brings 'forth no fruit to perfection.' There are\ntwo crops fighting for the upper hand on the one ground, and the\nearlier possessor wins. The 'struggle for existence' ends with the\n'survival of the fittest'; that is, of the worst, to which the natural\nbent of the desires and inclinations of the unrenewed man is more\ncongenial. The 'cares of this world' and the 'deceitfulness of riches'\nare but two sides of one thing. The poor man has cares; the rich man\nhas the illusions of his wealth. Both men agree in thinking that this\nworld's good is most desirable. The one is anxious because he has not\nenough of it, or fears to lose what he has; the other man is full of\nfoolish confidence because he has much. Eager desires after creatural\ngood are common to both; and, what with the anxiety lest they lose,\nand the self-satisfaction because they have, and the mouths watering\nfor the world's good, there is no force of will, nor warmth of love,\nnor clearness of vision, left for better things. That is the history\nof the fall of many a professing Christian, who never apostatises, and\nkeeps up a reputable appearance of godliness to the end; but the old\nworldliness, which was cut down for a while, has sprung again in his\nheart, and, by slow degrees, the word is 'choked'--a most expressive\npicture of the silent, gradual dying-out of its power for want of sun\nand air--and 'he' or 'it' 'becometh unfruitful,' relapsing from a\nprevious condition of fruit-bearing into sterility. No heart can\nmature two crops. We must choose between God and Mammon--between the\nword and the world.\n\nThere is nothing fixed or necessary in the faults of these three\nclasses, and they are not so much the characteristics of separate\ntypes of men as evils common to all hearers, against which all have to\nguard. They depend upon the will and affections much more than on\nanything in temperament fixed and not to be got rid of. So there is no\nreason why any one of the three should not become 'good soil': and it\nis to be noted that the characteristic of that soil is simply that it\nreceives and grows the seed. Any heart that will, can do that; and\nthat is all that is needed. But to do it, there will have to be\ndiligent care, lest we fall into any of the evils pointed at in the\npreceding parts of the parable, which are ever waiting to entrap us.\nThe true 'accepting' of the word requires that we shall not let it lie\non the surface of our minds, as in the case of the first; nor be\nsatisfied with its penetrating a little deeper and striking root in\nour emotions, like the second, of whom it is said with such profound\ntruth, that they 'have no root in themselves,' their roots being only\nin the superficial part of their being, and never going down to the\ntrue central self; nor let competing desires grow up unchecked, like\nthe third; but cherish the 'word of the truth of the gospel' in our\ndeepest hearts, guard it against foes, let it rule there, and mould\nall our conduct in conformity with its blessed principles. The true\nChristian is he who can truly say, 'Thy word have I hid in mine\nheart.' If we do, we shall be fruitful, because _it_ will bear fruit\nin us. No man is obliged, by temperament or circumstances, to be\n'wayside,' or 'stony,' or 'thorny' ground. Wherever a heart opens to\nreceive the gospel, and keeps it fast, there the increase will be\nrealised--not in equal measure in all, but in each according to\nfaithfulness and diligence. Mark arranges the various yields in\nascending scale, as if to teach our hopes and aims a growing\nlargeness, while Matthew orders them in the opposite fashion, as if to\nteach that, while the hundredfold, which is possible for all, is best,\nthe smaller yield is accepted by the great Lord of the harvest, who\nHimself not only sows the seed, but gives it its vitality, blesses its\nspringing, and rejoices to gather the wheat into His barn.\n\n\n\nLAMPS AND BUSHELS\n\n\n'And Jesus said unto them, Is a candle brought to be put under a\nbushel, or under a bed? and not to be set on a candlestick?'--Mark iv.\n21.\n\nThe furniture of a very humble Eastern home is brought before us in\nthis saying. In the original, each of the nouns has the definite\narticle attached to it, and so suggests that in the house there was\nbut one of each article; one lamp, a flat saucer with a wick swimming\nin oil; one measure for corn and the like; one bed, raised slightly,\nbut sufficiently to admit of a flat vessel being put under it without\ndanger, if for any reason it were desired to shade the light; and one\nlampstand.\n\nThe saying appeals to common-sense. A man does not light a lamp and\nthen smother it. The act of lighting implies the purpose of\nillumination, and, with everybody who acts logically, its sequel is to\nput the lamp on a stand, where it may be visible. All is part of the\nnightly routine of every Jewish household. Jesus had often watched it;\nand, commonplace as it is, it had mirrored to Him large truths. If our\neyes were opened to the suggestions of common life, we should find in\nthem many parables and reminders of high matters.\n\nNow this saying is a favourite and familiar one of our Lord, occurring\nfour times in the Gospels. It is interesting to notice that He, too,\nlike other teachers, had His favourite maxims, which He turned round\nin all sorts of ways, and presented as reflecting light at different\nangles and suggesting different thoughts. The four occurrences of the\nsaying are these. In my text, and in the parallel in Luke's Gospel, it\nis appended to the Parable of the Sower, and forms the basis of the\nexhortation, 'Take heed how ye hear.' In another place in Luke's\nGospel it is appended to our Lord's words about 'the sign of the\nprophet Jonah,' which is explained to be the resurrection of Jesus\nChrist, and it forms the basis of the exhortation to cultivate the\nsingle eye which is receptive of the light. In the Sermon on the Mount\nit is appended to the declaration that the disciples are the lights of\nthe world, and forms the basis of the exhortation, 'Let your light so\nshine before men.' I have thought that it may be interesting and\ninstructive if in this sermon we throw together these three\napplications of this one saying, and try to study the threefold\nlessons which it yields, and the weighty duties which it enforces.\n\nI. So, then, I have to ask you, first, to consider that we have a\nlesson as to the apparent obscurities of revelation and of our duty\nconcerning them.\n\nThat is the connection in which the words occur in our text, and in\nthe other place in Luke's Gospel, to which I have referred. Our Lord\nhas just been speaking the Parable of the Sower. The disciples'\ncuriosity has been excited as to its significance. They ask Him for an\nexplanation, which He gives minutely point by point. Then he passes to\nthis general lesson of the purpose of the apparent veil which He had\ncast round the truth, by throwing it into a parabolic form. In effect\nHe says: If I had meant to hide My teaching by the form into which I\ncast it, I should have been acting as absurdly and as contradictorily\nas a man would do who should light a lamp and immediately obscure it.'\nTrue, there is the veil of parable, but the purpose of that relative\nconcealment is not hiding, but revelation. 'There is nothing covered\nbut that it should be made known.' The veil sharpens attention,\nstimulates curiosity, quickens effort, and so becomes positively\nsubsidiary to the great purpose of revelation for which the parable is\nspoken. The existence of this veil of sensuous representation carries\nwith it the obligation, 'Take heed how ye hear.'\n\nNow all these thoughts have a far wider application than in reference\nto our Lord's parables. And I may suggest one or two of the\nconsiderations that flow from the wider reference of the words before\nus.\n\n'Is a candle brought to be put under a bushel, or under a bed and not\nupon a candlestick?' There are no gratuitous and dark places in\nanything that God says to us. His revelation is absolutely clear. We\nmay be sure of that if we consider the purpose for which He spoke at\nall. True, there are dark places; true, there are great gaps; true, we\nsometimes think, 'Oh! it would have been so easy for Him to have said\none word more; and the one word more would have been so infinitely\nprecious to bleeding hearts or wounded consciences or puzzled\nunderstandings.' But 'is a candle brought to be set under a bushel?'\nDo you think that if He took the trouble to light it He would\nimmediately smother it, or arbitrarily conceal anything that the very\nfact of the revelation declares His intention to make known? His own\ngreat word remains true, 'I have never spoken in secret, in a dark\nplace of the earth.' If there be, as there are, obscurities, there are\nnone there that would have been better away.\n\nFor the intention of all God's hiding--which hiding is an integral\npart of his revealing--is not to conceal, but to reveal. Sometimes the\nbest way of making a thing known to men is to veil it in a measure, in\norder that the very obscurity, like the morning mists which prophesy a\nblazing sun in a clear sky by noonday, may demand search and quicken\ncuriosity and spur to effort. He is not a wise teacher who makes\nthings too easy. It is good that there should be difficulties; for\ndifficulties are like the veins of quartz in the soil, which may turn\nthe edge of the ploughshare or the spade, but prophesy that there is\ngold there for the man who comes with fitting tools. Wherever, in the\nbroad land of God's word to us, there lie dark places, there are\nassurances of future illumination. God's hiding is in order to\nrevelation, even as the prophet of old, when he was describing the\ngreat Theophany which flashed in light from the one side of the heaven\nto the other, exclaimed, 'There was the hiding of His power.'\n\n  'He hides the purpose of His grace\n  To make it better known.'\n\nAnd the end of all the concealments, and apparent and real\nobscurities, that hang about His word, is that for many of them\npatient and diligent attention and docile obedience should unfold them\nhere, and for the rest, 'the day shall declare them.' The lamp is the\nlight for the night-time, and it leaves many a corner in dark shadow;\nbut, when 'night's candles are burnt out, and day sits jocund on the\nmisty mountain-tops,' much will be plain that cannot be made plain\nnow.\n\nTherefore, for us the lesson from this assurance that God will not\nstultify Himself by giving to us a revelation that does not reveal,\nis, 'Take heed how ye hear.' The effort will not be in vain. Patient\nattention will ever be rewarded. The desire to learn will not be\nfrustrated. In this school truth lightly won is truth loosely held;\nand only the attentive scholar is the receptive and retaining\ndisciple. A great man once said, and said, too, presumptuously and\nproudly, that he had rather have the search after truth than truth.\nBut yet there is a sense in which the saying may be modifiedly\naccepted; for, precious as is all the revelation of God, not the least\nprecious effect that it is meant to produce upon us is the\nconsciousness that in it there are unscaled heights above, and\nunplumbed depths beneath, and untraversed spaces all around it; and\nthat for us that Word is like the pillar of cloud and fire that moved\nbefore Israel, blends light and darkness with the single office of\nguidance, and gleams ever before us to draw desires and feet after it.\nThe lamp is set upon a stand. 'Take heed how ye hear.'\n\nII. Secondly, the saying, in another application on our Lord's lips,\ngives us a lesson as to Himself and our attitude to Him.\n\nI have already pointed out the other instance in Luke's Gospel in\nwhich this saying occurs, in the 11th chapter, where it is brought\ninto immediate connection with our Lord's declaration that the sign to\nbe given to His generation was 'the sign of the prophet Jonah,' which\nsign He explains as being reproduced in His own case in His\nResurrection. And then he adds the word of our text, and immediately\npasses on to speak about the light in us which perceives the lamp, and\nthe need of cultivating the single eye.\n\nSo, then, we have, in the figure thus applied, the thought that the\nearthly life of Jesus Christ necessarily implies a subsequent\nelevation from which He shines down upon all the world. God lit that\nlamp, and it is not going to be quenched in the darkness of the grave.\nHe is not going to stultify Himself by sending the Light of the World,\nand then letting the endless shades of death muffle and obscure it.\nBut, just as the conclusion of the process which is begun in the\nkindling of the light is setting it on high on the stand, that it may\nbeam over all the chamber, so the resurrection and ascension of Jesus\nChrist, His exaltation to the supremacy from which He shall draw all\nmen unto Him, are the necessary and, if I may so say, the logical\nresult of the facts of His incarnation and death.\n\nThen from this there follows what our Lord dwells upon at greater\nlength. Having declared that the beginning of His course involved the\ncompletion of it in His exaltation to glory, He then goes on to say to\nus, 'You have an organ that corresponds to Me. I am the kindled lamp;\nyou have the seeing eye.' 'If the eye were not sunlike,' says the\ngreat German thinker, 'how could it see the sun?' If there were not in\nme that which corresponds to Jesus Christ, He would be no Light of the\nWorld, and no light to me. My reason, my affection, my conscience, my\nwill, the whole of my spiritual being, answer to Him, as the eye does\nto the light, and for everything that is in Christ there is in\nhumanity something that is receptive of, and that needs, Him.\n\nSo, then, that being so, He being our light, just because He fits our\nneeds, answers our desires, satisfies our cravings, fills the clefts\nof our hearts, and brings the response to all the questions of our\nunderstandings--that being the case, if the lamp is lit and blazing on\nthe lampstand, and you and I have eyes to behold it, let us take heed\nthat we cultivate the single eye which apprehends Christ.\nConcentration of purpose, simplicity and sincerity of aim, a heart\ncentred upon Him, a mind drawn to contemplate unfalteringly and\nwithout distraction of crosslights His beauty, His supremacy, His\ncompleteness, and a soul utterly devoted to Him--these are the\nconditions to which that light will ever manifest itself, and illumine\nthe whole man. But if we come with divided hearts, with distracted\naims, giving Him fragments of ourselves, and seeking Him by spasms and\nat intervals, and having a dozen other deities in our Pantheon, beside\nthe calm form of the Christ of Nazareth, what wonder is there that we\nsee in Him 'no beauty that we should desire Him'? 'Unite my heart to\nfear Thy name.' Oh I if that were our prayer, and if the effort to\nsecure its answer were honestly the effort of our lives, all His\nloveliness, His sweetness, His adaptation to our whole being, would\nmanifest themselves to us. The eye must be 'single,' directed to Him,\nif the heart is to rejoice in His light.\n\nI need not do more than remind you of the blessed consequence which\nour Lord represents as flowing from this union of the seeing heart and\nthe revealing light--viz., 'Thy whole body shall be full of light.' In\nevery eye that beholds the flame of the lamp there is a little\nlamp-flame mirrored and manifested. And just as what we see makes its\nimage on the seeing organ of the body, so the Christ beheld is a\nChrist embodied in us; and we, gazing upon Him, are 'changed into the\nsame image from glory to glory, even as by the Lord the Spirit.' Light\nthat remains without us does not illuminate; light that passes into us\nis the light by which we see, and the Christ beheld is the Christ\nensphered in our hearts.\n\nIII. So, lastly, this great saying gives us a lesson as to the duties\nof Christian men as lights in the world.\n\nI pointed out that another instance of the occurrence of the saying is\nin the Sermon on the Mount, where it is transferred from the\nrevelation of God in His written word, and in His Incarnate Word, to\nthe relation of Christian men to the world in which they dwell. I need\nnot remind you how frequently that same metaphor occurs in Scripture;\nhow in the early Jewish ritual the great seven-branched lampstand\nwhich stood at first in the Tabernacle was the emblem of Israel's\noffice in the whole world, as it rayed out its light through the\ncurtains of the Tabernacle into the darkness of the desert. Nor need I\nremind you how our Lord bare witness to His forerunner by the praise\nthat 'He was a burning and a shining light,' nor how He commanded His\ndisciples to have their 'loins girt and their lamps burning,' nor how\nHe spoke the Parable of the Ten Virgins with their lamps.\n\nFrom all these there follows the same general thought that Christian\nmen, not so much by specific effort, nor by words, nor by definite\nproclamation, as by the raying out from them in life and conduct of a\nChristlike spirit, are set for the illumination of the world. The\nbearing of our text in reference to that subject is just this--our\nobligation as Christians to show forth the glories of Him who hath\n'called us out of darkness into His marvellous light' is rested upon\nHis very purpose in drawing us to Himself, and receiving us into the\nnumber of his people. If God in Christ, by communicating to us 'the\nlight of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus\nChrist,' has made us lights of the world, it is not done in order that\nthe light may be smothered incontinently, but His act of lighting\nindicates His purpose of illumination. What are you a Christian for?\nThat you may go to Heaven? Certainly. That your sins may be forgiven?\nNo doubt. But is that the only end? Are you such a very great being as\nthat your happiness and well-being can legitimately be the ultimate\npurpose of God's dealings with you? Are you so isolated from all\nmankind as that any gift which He bestows on you is to be treated by\nyou as a morsel that you can take into your corner and devour, like a\ngrudging dog, by yourselves? By no means. 'God, who commanded the\nlight to shine out of darkness, hath shined into our hearts in order\nthat' we might impart the light to others. Or, as Shakespeare has it,\nin words perhaps suggested by the Scripture metaphor,\n\n  'Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,\n  Not light them for themselves.'\n\nHe gave you His Son that you may give the gospel to others, and you\nstultify His purpose in your salvation unless you become ministers of\nHis grace and manifesters of His light.\n\nThen take from this emblem, too, a homely suggestion as to the\nhindrances that stand in the way of our fulfilling the Divine\nintention in our salvation. It is, perhaps, a piece of fancy, but\nstill it may point a lesson. The lamp is not hid 'under a bushel,'\nwhich is the emblem of commerce or business, and is meant for the\nmeasurement of material wealth and sustenance, or 'under a bed'--the\nplace where people take their ease and repose. These two loves--the\nundue love of the bushel and the corn that is in it, and the undue\nlove of the bed and the leisurely ease that you may enjoy there--are\nlarge factors in preventing Christian men from fulfilling God's\npurpose in their salvation.\n\nThen take a hint as to the means by which such a purpose can be\nfulfilled by Christian souls. They are suggested in the two of the\nother uses of this emblem by our Lord Himself. The first is when He\nsaid, 'Let your loins be girded'--they are not so, when you are in\nbed--'and your lamps burning.' Your light will not shine in a naughty\nworld without your strenuous effort, and ungirt loins will very\nshortly lead to extinguished lamps. The other means to this\nmanifestation of visible Christlikeness lies in that tragical story of\nthe foolish virgins who took no oil in their vessels. If light\nexpresses the outward Christian life, oil, in accordance with the\nwhole tenor of Scripture symbolism, expresses the inward gift of the\nDivine Spirit. And where that gift is neglected, where it is not\nearnestly sought and carefully treasured, there may be a kind of smoky\nilluminations, which, in the dark, may pass for bright lights, but,\nwhen the Lord comes, shudder into extinction, and, to the astonishment\nof the witless five who carried them, are found to be 'going out.'\nBrethren, only He who does not quench the smoking flax but tends it to\na flame, will help us to keep our lamps bright.\n\nFirst of all, then, let us gaze upon the light in Him, until we become\n'light in the Lord.' And then let us see to it that, by girt loins and\ncontinual reception of the illuminating principle of the Divine\nSpirit's oil, we fill our lamps with 'deeds of odorous light, and\nhopes that breed not shame.' Then,\n\n  'When the Bridegroom, with his feastful friends,\n  Passes to bliss on the mid-hour of night,'\n\nwe shall have 'gained our entrance' among the 'virgins wise and pure.'\n\n\n\nTHE STORM STILLED\n\n\n'And the same day, when the even was come, He saith unto them, Let us\npass over unto the other side. 36. And when they had sent away the\nmultitude, they took Him even as He was in the ship. And there were\nalso with Him other little ships. 37. And there arose a great storm of\nwind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. 38.\nAnd He was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and\nthey awake Him, and say unto Him, Master, carest Thou not that we\nperish? 39. And He arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea,\nPeace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. 40.\nAnd He said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have\nno faith? 41. And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another,\nWhat manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey\nHim?'--Mark iv. 35-41.\n\nMark seldom dates his incidents, but he takes pains to tell us that\nthis run across the lake closed a day of labour, Jesus was wearied,\nand felt the need of rest, He had been pressed on all day by 'a very\ngreat multitude,' and felt the need of solitude. He could not land\nfrom the boat which had been His pulpit, for that would have plunged\nHim into the thick of the crowd, and so the only way to get away from\nthe throng was to cross the lake. But even there He was followed;\n'other boats were with Him.'\n\nI. The first point to note is the wearied sleeper. The disciples 'take\nHim, ... even as He was,' without preparation or delay, the object\nbeing simply to get away as quickly as might be, so great was His\nfatigue and longing for quiet. We almost see the hurried starting and\nthe intrusive followers scrambling into the little skiffs on the beach\nand making after Him. The 'multitude' delights to push itself into the\nprivate hours of its heroes, and is devoured with rude curiosity.\nThere was a leather, or perhaps wooden, movable seat in the stern for\nthe steersman, on which a wearied-out man might lay his head, while\nhis body was stretched in the bottom of the boat. A hard 'pillow'\nindeed, which only exhaustion could make comfortable! But it was soft\nenough for the worn-out Christ, who had apparently flung Himself down\nin sheer tiredness as soon as they set sail. How real such a small\ndetail makes the transcendent mystery of the Incarnation!\n\nJesus is our pattern in small common things as in great ones, and\namong the sublimities of character set forth in Him as our example,\nlet us not forget that the homely virtue of hard work is also\nincluded. Jonah slept in a storm the sleep of a skulking sluggard,\nJesus slept the sleep of a wearied labourer.\n\nII. The next point is the terrified disciples. The evening was coming\non, and, as often on a lake set among hills, the wind rose as the sun\nsank behind the high land on the western shore astern. The fishermen\ndisciples were used to such squalls, and, at first, would probably let\ntheir sail down, and pull so as to keep the boat's head to the wind.\nBut things grew worse, and when the crazy, undecked craft began to\nfill and get water-logged, they grew alarmed. The squall was fiercer\nthan usual, and must have been pretty bad to have frightened such\nseasoned hands. They awoke Jesus, and there is a touch of petulant\nrebuke in their appeal, and of a sailor's impatience at a landsman\nlying sound asleep while the sweat is running down their faces with\ntheir hard pulling. It is to Mark that we owe our knowledge of that\naccent of complaint in their words, for he alone gives their 'Carest\nThou not?'\n\nBut it is not for us to fling stones at them, seeing that we also\noften may catch ourselves thinking that Jesus has gone to sleep when\nstorms come on the Church or on ourselves, and that He is ignorant of,\nor indifferent to, our plight. But though the disciples were wrong in\ntheir fright, and not altogether right in the tone of their appeal to\nJesus, they were supremely right in that they did appeal to Him. Fear\nwhich drives us to Jesus is not all wrong. The cry to Him, even though\nit is the cry of unnecessary terror, brings Him to His feet for our\nhelp.\n\nIII. The next point is the word of power. Again we have to thank Mark\nfor the very words, so strangely, calmly authoritative. May we take\n'Peace!' as spoken to the howling wind, bidding it to silence; and 'Be\nstill!' as addressed to the tossing waves, smoothing them to a calm\nplain? At all events, the two things to lay to heart are that Jesus\nhere exercises the divine prerogative of controlling matter by the\nbare expression of His will, and that this divine attribute was\nexercised by the wearied man, who, a moment before, had been sleeping\nthe sleep of human exhaustion. The marvellous combination of apparent\nopposites, weakness, and divine omnipotence, which yet do not clash,\nnor produce an incredible monster of a being, but coalesce in perfect\nharmony, is a feat beyond the reach of the loftiest creative\nimagination. If the Evangelists are not simple biographers, telling\nwhat eyes have seen and hands have handled, they have beaten the\ngreatest poets and dramatists at their own weapons, and have\naccomplished 'things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.'\n\nA word of loving rebuke and encouragement follows. Matthew puts it\nbefore the stilling of the storm, but Mark's order seems the more\nexact. How often we too are taught the folly of our fears by\nexperiencing some swift, easy deliverance! Blessed be God! He does not\nrebuke us first and help us afterwards, but rebukes by helping. What\n_could_ the disciples say, as they sat there in the great calm, in\nanswer to Christ's question, 'Why are ye fearful?' Fear can give no\nreasonable account of itself, if Christ is in the boat. If our faith\nunites us to Jesus, there is nothing that need shake our courage. If\nHe is 'our fear and our dread,' we shall not need to 'fear their\nfear,' who have not the all-conquering Christ to fight for them.\n\n  'Well roars the storm to them who hear\n  A deeper voice across the storm.'\n\nJesus wondered at the slowness of the disciples to learn their lesson,\nand the wonder was reflected in the sad question, 'Have ye not _yet_\nfaith?'--not yet, after so many miracles, and living beside Me for so\nlong? How much more keen the edge of that question is when addressed\nto us, who know Him so much better, and have centuries of His working\nfor His servants to look back on. When, in the tempests that sweep\nover our own lives, we sometimes pass into a great calm as suddenly as\nif we had entered the centre of a typhoon, we wonder unbelievingly\ninstead of saying, out of a faith nourished by experience, 'It is just\nlike Him.'\n\n\n\nTHE TOILING CHRIST\n\n\n'They took Him even as He was in the ship.... And He was in the hinder\npart of the ship, asleep on a pillow.'--Mark iv. 36, 38.\n\nAmong the many loftier characteristics belonging to Christ's life and\nwork, there is a very homely one which is often lost sight of; and\nthat is, the amount of hard physical exertion, prolonged even to\nfatigue and exhaustion, which He endured.\n\nChrist is our pattern in a great many other things more impressive and\nmore striking; and He is our pattern in this, that 'in the sweat of\nHis brow' He did His work, and knew not only what it was to suffer,\nbut what it was to toil for man's salvation. And, perhaps, if we\nthought a little more than we do of such a prosaic characteristic of\nHis life as that, it might invest it with some more reality for us,\nbesides teaching us other large and important lessons.\n\nI have thrown together these two clauses for our text now, simply for\nthe sake of that one feature which they both portray so strikingly.\n\n'They took Him even as He was in the ship.' Now many expositors\nsuppose that in the very form of that phrase there is suggested the\nextreme of weariness and exhaustion which He suffered, after the hard\nday's toil. Whether that be so or no, the swiftness of the move to the\nlittle boat, although there was nothing in the nature of danger or of\nimperative duty to hurry Him away, and His going on board without a\nmoment's preparation, leaving the crowd on the beach, seem most\nnaturally accounted for by supposing that He had come to the last\npoint of physical endurance, and that His frame, worn out by the hard\nday's work, needed one thing--rest.\n\nAnd so, the next that we see of Him is that, as soon as He gets into\nthe ship He falls fast asleep on the wooden pillow--a hard bed for His\nhead!--in the stern of the little fishing boat, and there He lies so\ntired--let us put it into plain prose and strip away the false veil of\nbig words with which we invest that nature--so tired that the storm\ndoes not awake Him; and they have to come to Him, and lay their hands\nupon Him, and say to Him, 'Master, carest Thou not that we perish?'\nbefore compassion again beat back fatigue, and quickened Him for fresh\nexertions.\n\nThis, then, is the one lesson which I wish to consider now, and there\nare three points which I deal with in pursuance of my task. I wish to\npoint out a little more in detail the signs that we have in the\nGospels of this characteristic of Christ's work--the toilsomeness of\nHis service; then to consider, secondly, the motives which He Himself\ntells us impelled to such service; and then, finally, the worth which\nthat toil bears for us.\n\nI. First, then, let me point out some of the significant hints which\nthe gospel records give us of the toilsomeness of Christ's service.\n\nNow we are principally indebted for these to this Gospel by Mark,\nwhich ancient tradition has set forth as being especially and\neminently the 'Gospel of the Servant of God,' therein showing a very\naccurate conception of its distinguishing characteristics. Just as\nMatthew's Gospel is the Gospel of the King, regal in tone from\nbeginning to end; just as Luke's is the Gospel of the Man, human and\nuniversal in its tone; just as John's is the Gospel of the Eternal\nWord, so Mark's is the Gospel of the Servant. The inscription written\nover it all might be, 'Lo, I come to do Thy will, O God.' 'Behold my\nServant whom I uphold.'\n\nAnd if you will take this briefest of all the Gospels, and read it\nover from that point of view, you will be surprised to discover what a\nmultitude of minute traits make up the general impression, and what a\nunity is thereby breathed into the narrative.\n\nFor instance, did you ever observe the peculiar beginning of this\nGospel? There are here none of the references to the prophecies of the\nKing, no tracing of His birth through the royal stock to the great\nprogenitor of the nation, no adoration by the Eastern sages, which we\nfind in Matthew, no miraculous birth nor growing childhood as in Luke,\nno profound unveiling of the union of the Word with God before the\nworld was, as in John; but the narrative begins with His baptism, and\npasses at once to the story of His work. The same ruling idea accounts\nfor the uniform omission of the title 'Lord' which in Mark's Gospel is\nnever applied to Christ until after the resurrection. There is only\none apparent exception, and there good authorities pronounce the word\nto be spurious. Even in reports of conversations which are also given\nin the other Gospels, and where 'Lord' occurs, Mark, of set purpose,\nomits it, as if its presence would disturb the unity of the impression\nwhich he desires to leave. You will find the investigation of the\nomissions in this Gospel full of interest, and remarkably tending to\nconfirm the accuracy of the view which regards it as the Gospel of the\nServant.\n\nNotice then these traits of His service which it brings out.\n\nThe first of them I would suggest is--how distinctly it gives the\nimpression of swift, strenuous work. The narrative is brief and\ncondensed. We feel, all through these earlier chapters, at all events,\nthe presence of the pressing crowd coming to Him and desiring to be\nhealed, and but a word can be spared for each incident as the story\nhurries on, trying to keep pace with His rapid service of\nquick-springing compassion and undelaying help. There is one word\nwhich is reiterated over and over again in these earlier chapters,\nremarkably conveying this impression of haste and strenuous work;\nMark's favourite word is 'straightway,' 'immediately,' 'forthwith,'\n'anon,' which are all translations of one expression. You will find,\nif you glance over the first, second, or third chapters at your\nleisure, that it comes in at every turn. Take these instances which\nstrike one's eye at the moment. _'Straightway_ they forsook their\nnets'; _'Straightway_ He entered into the synagogue'; _'Immediately_\nHis fame spread abroad throughout all the region'; _'Forthwith_ they\nentered into the house of Simon's mother'; '_Anon_, they tell Him of\nher'; '_Immediately_ the fever left her.' And so it goes on through\nthe whole story, a picture of a constant succession of rapid acts of\nmercy and love. The story seems, as it were, to pant with haste to\nkeep up with Him as He moves among men, swift as a sunbeam, and\ncontinuous in the outflow of His love as are these unceasing rays.\n\nAgain, we see in Christ's service, toil prolonged to the point of\nactual physical exhaustion. The narrative before us is the most\nstriking instance of that which we meet with. It had been a long\nwearying day of work. According to this chapter, the whole of the\nprofound parables concerning the kingdom of God had immediately\npreceded the embarkation. But even these, with their explanation, had\nbeen but a part of that day's labours. For, in Matthew's account of\nthem, we are told that they were spoken on the same day as that on\nwhich His mother and brethren came desiring to speak with Him,--or, as\nwe elsewhere read, with hostile intentions to lay hold on Him as mad\nand needing restraint. And that event, which we may well believe\ntouched deep and painful chords of feeling in His human heart, and\nexcited emotions more exhausting than much physical effort, occurred\nin the midst of an earnest and prolonged debate with emissaries from\nJerusalem, in the course of which He spoke the solemn words concerning\nblasphemy against the Holy Ghost, and Satan casting out Satan, and\npoured forth some of His most terrible warnings, and some of His most\nbeseeching entreaties. No wonder that, after such a day, the hard\npillow of the boat was a soft resting-place for His wearied head; no\nwonder that, as the evening quiet settled down on the mountain-girdled\nlake, and the purple shadows of the hills stretched athwart the water,\nHe slept; no wonder that the storm which followed the sunset did not\nwake Him; and beautiful, that wearied as He was, the disciples' cry at\nonce rouses Him, and the fatigue which shows His manhood gives place\nto the divine energy which says unto the sea, 'Peace! be still.' The\nlips which, a moment before, had been parted in the soft breathing of\nwearied sleep, now open to utter the omnipotent word--so wonderfully\ndoes He blend the human and the divine, 'the form of a servant' and\nthe nature of God.\n\nWe see, in Christ, toil that puts aside the claims of physical wants.\nTwice in this Gospel we read of this 'The multitude cometh together\nagain, so that they could not so much as eat bread.' 'There were many\ncoming, and they had no leisure so much as to eat.'\n\nWe see in Christ's service a love which is at every man's beck and\ncall, a toil cheerfully rendered at the most unreasonable and\nunseasonable times. As I said a moment or two ago, this Gospel makes\none feel, as none other of these narratives do, the pressure of that\never-present multitude, the whirling excitement that eddied round the\ncalm centre. It tells us, for instance, more than once, how Christ,\nwearied with His toil, feeling in body and in spirit the need of rest\nand still communion, withdrew Himself from the crowd. He once departed\nalone that He might seek God in prayer; once He went with His wearied\ndisciples apart into a desert place to rest awhile. On both occasions\nthe retirement is broken in upon before it is well begun. The sigh of\nrelief in the momentary rest is scarcely drawn, and the burden laid\ndown for an instant, when it has to be lifted again. His solitary\nprayer is interrupted by the disciples, with 'All men seek for Thee,'\nand, without a murmur or a pause, He buckles to His work again, and\nsays, 'Let us go into the next towns that I may preach there also; for\ntherefore am I sent.'\n\nWhen He would carry His wearied disciples with Him for a brief\nbreathing time to the other side of the sea, and get away from the\nthronging crowd, 'the people saw Him departing, and ran afoot out of\nall cities,' and, making their way round the head of the lake, were\nall there at the landing place before Him. Instead of seclusion and\nrepose He found the same throng and bustle. Here they were, most of\nthem from mere curiosity, some of them no doubt with deeper feelings;\nhere they were, with their diseased and their demoniacs, and as soon\nas His foot touches the shore He is in the midst of it all again. And\nHe meets it, not with impatience at this rude intrusion on His\nprivacy, not with refusals to help. Only one emotion filled His heart.\nHe forgot all about weariness, and hunger, and retirement, and 'He was\nmoved with compassion towards them, because they were as sheep not\nhaving a shepherd, and He began to teach them many things.' Such a\npicture may well shame our languid, self-indulgent service, may stir\nus to imitation and to grateful praise.\n\nThere is only one other point which I touch upon for a moment, as\nshowing the toil of Christ, and that is drawn from another Gospel. Did\nyou ever notice the large space occupied in Matthew's Gospel by the\nrecord of the last day of His public ministry, and how much of all\nthat we know of His mission and message, and the future of the world\nand of all men, we owe to the teaching of these four-and-twenty hours?\nLet me put together, in a word, what happened on that day.\n\nIt included the conversation with the chief priests and elders about\nthe baptism of John, the parable of the householder that planted a\nvineyard and digged a winepress, the parables of the kingdom of\nheaven, the controversy with the Herodians about the tribute money,\nthe conversation with the Sadducees about the resurrection, with the\nPharisee about the great commandment in the law, the silencing of the\nPharisees by pointing to the 110th Psalm, the warning to the multitude\nagainst the scribes and Pharisees who were hypocrites, protracted and\nprolonged up to that wail of disappointed love, 'Behold! your house is\nleft unto you desolate.' And, as though that had not been enough for\none day, when He is going home from the Temple to find, for a night,\nin that quiet little home of Bethany, the rest that He wants, as He\nrests wearily on the slopes of Olivet, the disciples come to Him,\n'Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign of\nThy coming?' and there follows all that wonderful prophecy of the\ndestruction of Jerusalem and the end of the world, the parable of the\nfig tree, the warning not to suffer the thief to come, and the promise\nof reward for the faithful and wise servant, the parable of the ten\nvirgins, and in all probability the parable of the king with the five\ntalents; and the words, that might be written in letters of fire, that\ntell us the final course of all things, and the judgment of life\neternal and death everlasting! All this was the work of 'one of the\ndays of the Son of Man.' Of Him it was prophesied long ago, 'For\nJerusalem's sake I will not rest'; and His life on earth, as well as\nHis life in heaven, fulfils the prediction--the one by the\ntoilsomeness of His service, the other by the unceasing energy of His\nexalted power. He toiled unwearied here, He works unresting there.\n\nII. In the second place, let me ask you to notice how we get from our\nLord's own words a glimpse into the springs of this wonderful\nactivity.\n\nThere are three points which distinctly come out in various places in\nthe Gospels as His motives for such unresting sedulousness and\ncontinuance of toil. The first is conveyed by such words as these: 'I\nmust work the works of Him that sent Me.' 'Let us preach to other\ncities, also: for therefore am I sent.' 'Wist ye not that I must be\nabout My Father's business?' 'My meat is to do the will of Him that\nsent Me, and to finish His work.' All these express one thought.\nChrist lived and toiled, and bore weariness and exhaustion, and\ncounted every moment as worthy to be garnered up and precious, as to\nbe filled with deeds of love and kindness, because wherever He went,\nand to whatsoever He set His hand, He had the one consciousness of a\ngreat task laid upon Him by a loving Father whom He loved, and whom,\ntherefore, it was His joy and His blessedness to serve.\n\nAnd, remember that this motive made the life homogeneous--of a piece.\nIn all the variety of service, one spirit was expressed, and,\ntherefore, the service was one. No matter whether He were speaking\nwords of grace or of rebuke, or working works of power and love, or\nsimply looking a look of kindness on some outcast, or taking a little\nchild in His arms, or stilling with the same arms outstretched the\nwild uproar of the storm--it was all the same. To Him life was all\none. There was nothing great, nothing small; nothing so insignificant\nthat it could be done negligently; nothing so hard that it surpassed\nHis power. The one motive made all duties equal; obedience to the\nFather called forth His whole energy at every moment. To Him life was\nnot divided into a set of tasks of varying importance, some of which\ncould be accomplished with a finger's touch, and some of which\ndemanded a dead lift and strain of all the muscles. But whatsoever His\nhand found to do He did with His might and that because He felt, be it\ngreat or little, that it all came, if I may so say, into the day's\nwork, and all was equally great because the Father that sent Him had\nlaid it upon Him.\n\nThere is one thing that makes life mighty in its veriest trifles,\nworthy in its smallest deeds, that delivers it from monotony, that\ndelivers it from insignificance. All will be great, and nothing will\nbe overpowering, when, living in communion with Jesus Christ, we say\nas He says, 'My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me.'\n\nAnd then, still further, another of the secret springs that move His\nunwearied activity, His heroism of toil, is the thought expressed in\nsuch words as these:--'While I am in the world I am the light of the\nworld.' 'I must work the works of Him that sent Me while it is day;\nthe night cometh when no man can work.'\n\nJesus Christ manifested on earth performs indeed a work--the mightiest\nwhich He came to do--which was done precisely then when the night did\ncome--namely, the work of His death, which is the atonement and\n'propitiation for the sins of the world.' And, further, the 'night,\nwhen no man can work,' was not the end of His activity for us; for He\ncarries on His work of intercession and rule, His work of bestowing\nthe gifts purchased by His blood, amidst the glories of heaven; and\nthat perpetual application and dispensing of the blessed issues of His\ndeath He has Himself represented as greater than the works, to which\nHis death put a period, in which He healed the bodies and spoke to the\nhearts of those who heard, and lived a perfect life here upon this\nsinful earth. But yet even He recognised the brief hour of sunny life\nas being an hour that must be filled with service, and recognised the\nfact that there was a task that He could only do when He lived the\nlife of a man upon earth. And so, if I might so say, He was a miser of\nthe moments, and carefully husbanding and garnering up every capacity\nand every opportunity. He toiled with the toil of a man who has a task\nbefore him, that must be done before the clock strikes six, and who\nsees the hands move over the dial, and by every glance that he casts\nat it is stimulated to intenser service and to harder toil. Christ\nfelt that impulse to service which we all ought to feel--'The night\ncometh; let me fill the day with work.'\n\nAnd then there is a final motive which I need barely touch. He was\nimpelled to His sedulous service not only by loving, filial obedience\nto the divine law, and by the consciousness of a limited and defined\nperiod into which all the activity of one specific kind must be\ncondensed, but also by the motive expressed in such words as these, in\nwhich this Gospel is remarkably rich, 'And Jesus, moved with\ncompassion, put forth His hand and touched him.' Thus, along with that\nsupreme consecration, along with that swift ardour that will fill the\nbrief hours ere nightfall with service, there was the constant pity of\nthat beating heart that moved the diligent hand. Christ, if I may so\nsay, could not help working as hard as He did, so long as there were\nso many men round about Him that needed His sympathy and His aid.\n\nIII. So much then for the motives; and now a word finally as to the\nworth of this toil for us.\n\nI do not stay to elucidate one consideration that might be suggested,\nviz., how precious a proof it is of Christ's humanity. We find it\neasier to bring home His true manhood to our thoughts, when we\nremember that He, like us, knew the pressure of physical fatigue. Not\nonly was it a human spirit that wept and rejoiced, that was moved with\ncompassion, and sometimes with indignation, but it was a human body,\nbone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh, that, wearied with walking\nin the burning sun, sat on the margin of the well; that was worn out\nand needed to sleep; that knew hunger, as is testified by His sending\nthe disciples to buy meat; that was thirsty, as is testified by His\nsaying, 'Give Me to drink.' The true corporeal manhood of Jesus\nChrist, and the fact that that manhood is the tabernacle of\nGod--without these two facts the morality and the teaching of\nChristianity swing loose _in vacuo_, and have no holdfast in history,\nnor any leverage by which they can move men's hearts! But, when we\nknow that the common necessities of fatigue, and hunger, and thirst\nbelonged to Him, then we gratefully and reverently say, 'Forasmuch as\nthe children were partakers of flesh and blood, he also Himself took\npart of the same.'\n\nThis fact of Christ's toil is of worth to us in other ways.\n\nIs not that hard work of Jesus Christ a lesson for us, brethren, in\nour daily tasks and toils--a lesson which, if it were learnt and\npractised, would make a difference not only on the intensity but upon\nthe spirit with which we labour? A great deal of fine talk is indulged\nin about the dignity of labour and the like. Labour is a curse until\ncommunion with God in it, which is possible through Jesus Christ,\nmakes it a blessing and a joy. Christ, in the sweat of His brow, won\nour salvation; and our work only becomes great when it is work done\nin, and for, and by Him.\n\nAnd what do we learn from His example? We learn these things: the\nplain lesson, first,--task all your capacity and use every minute in\ndoing the duty that is plainly set before you to do. Christian virtues\nare sometimes thought to be unreal and unworldly things. I was going\nto say the root of them, certainly the indispensable accompaniment for\nthem all, is the plain, prosaic, most unromantic virtue of hard work.\n\nAnd beyond that, what do we learn? The lesson that most toilers in\nEngland want. There is no need to preach to the most of us to work any\nharder, in one department of work at any rate; but there is great need\nto remind us of what it was that at once stirred Jesus Christ into\nenergy and kept Him calm in the midst of labour--and that was that\neverything was equally and directly referred to His Father's will.\nPeople talk nowadays about 'missions.' The only thing worth giving\nthat name to is the 'mission' which _He_ gives us, who sends us into\nthe world not to do our own will, but to do the will of Him that sent\nus. There is a fatal monotony in all our lives--a terrible amount of\nhard drudgery in them all. We have to set ourselves morning after\nmorning to tasks that look to be utterly insignificant and\ndisproportionate to the power that we bring to bear upon them, so that\nmen are like elephants picking up pins with their trunks; and yet we\nmay make all our commonplace drudgery great, and wondrous, and fair,\nand full of help and profit to our souls, if, over it all--our shops,\nour desks, our ledgers, our studies, our kitchens, and our\nnurseries--we write, 'My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me.'\nWe may bring the greatest principles to bear upon the smallest duties.\n\nWhat more do we learn from Christ's toil? The possible harmony of\ncommunion and service. His labour did not break His fellowship with\nGod. He was ever in the 'secret place of the Most High,' even while He\nwas in the midst of crowds. He has taught us that it is possible to be\nin the 'house of the Lord' all the days of our lives, and by His\nensample, as by His granted Spirit, encourages us to aim at so serving\nthat we shall never cease to behold, and so beholding that we shall\nnever cease to serve our Father. The life of contemplation and the\nlife of practice, so hard to harmonise in our experience, perfectly\nmeet in Christ.\n\nWhat more do we learn from our Lord's toils? The cheerful constant\npostponement of our own ease, wishes, or pleasure to the call of the\nFather's voice, or to the echo of it in the sighing of such as be\nsorrowful. I have already referred to the instances of His putting\naside His need for rest, and His desire for still fellowship with God,\nat the call of whoever needed Him. It was the same always. If a\nNicodemus comes by night, if a despairing father forces his way into\nthe house of feasting, if another suppliant finds Him in a house,\nwhere He would have remained hid, if they come running to Him in the\nway, or drop down their sick before Him through the very roof--it is\nall the same. He never thinks of Himself, but gladly addresses Himself\nto heal and bless. How such an example followed would change our lives\nand amaze and shake the world!--'I come, not to do Mine own will.'\n'Even Christ pleased not Himself.'\n\nBut that toil is not only a pattern for our lives; it is an appeal to\nour grateful hearts. Surely a toiling Christ is as marvellous as a\ndying Christ. And the immensity and the purity and the depth of His\nlove are shown no less by this, that He labours to accomplish it, than\nby this, that He dies to complete it. He will not give blessings which\ndepend upon mere will, and can be bestowed as a king might fling a\nlargess to a beggar without effort, and with scarce a thought, but\nblessings which He Himself has to agonise and to energise, and to lead\na life of obedience, and to die a death of shame, in order to procure.\n'I will not offer burnt-offering to God of that which doth cost me\nnothing,' says the grateful heart. But in so saying it is but\nfollowing in the track of the loving Christ, who will not give unto\nman that which cost Him nothing, and who works, as well as dies, in\norder that we may be saved.\n\nAnd, O brethren! think of the contrast between what Christ has done to\nsave us, and what we do to secure and appropriate that salvation! He\ntoiled all His days, buying our peace with His life, going down into\nthe mine and bringing up the jewels at the cost of His own precious\nblood. And you and I stand with folded arms, too apathetic to take the\nrich treasures that are freely given to us of God! He has done\neverything, that we may have nothing to do, and we will not even put\nout our slack hands to clasp the grace purchased by His blood, and\ncommended by His toil! 'Therefore we ought to give the more earnest\nheed to the things which we have heard, lest at any time we should let\nthem slip.'\n\n\n\nTHE LORD OF DEMONS\n\n\n'And they came over unto the other side of the sea, into the country\nof the Gadarenes. 2. And when He was come out of the ship, immediately\nthere met Him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, 3. Who\nhad his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not\nwith chains: 4. Because that he had been often bound with fetters and\nchains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the\nfetters broken in pieces: neither could any man tame him. 5. And\nalways, night and day, he was in the mountains, and in the tombs,\ncrying, and cutting himself with stones. 6. But when he saw Jesus afar\noff, he ran and worshipped Him, 7. And cried with a loud voice, and\nsaid, What have I to do with Thee, Jesus, Thou Son of the most high\nGod? I adjure Thee by God, that Thou torment me not. 8. For He said\nunto him, Come out of the man, thou unclean spirit. 9. And He asked\nhim, What is thy name? And he answered, saying, My name is Legion: for\nwe are many. 10. And he besought Him much that He would not send them\naway out of the country. 11. Now there was there nigh unto the\nmountains a great herd of swine feeding. 12. And all the devils\nbesought Him, saying, Send us into the swine, that we may enter into\nthem. 13. And forthwith Jesus gave them leave. And the unclean spirits\nwent out, and entered into the swine: and the herd ran violently down\na steep place into the sea, (they were about two thousand;) and were\nchoked in the sea. 14. And they that fed the swine fled, and told it\nin the city, and in the country. And they went out to see what it was\nthat was done. 15. And they come to Jesus, and see him that was\npossessed with the devil, and had the legion, sitting, and clothed,\nand in his right mind: and they were afraid. 16. And they that saw it\ntold them how it befell to him that was possessed with the devil, and\nalso concerning the swine. 17. And they began to pray Him to depart\nout of their coasts. 18. And when He was come into the ship, he that\nhad been possessed with the devil prayed Him that he might be with\nHim. 19. Howbeit Jesus suffered him not, but saith unto him, Go home\nto thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for\nthee, and hath had compassion on thee. 20. And he departed, and began\nto publish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had done for him: and\nall men did marvel.'--Mark v. 1-20.\n\nThe awful picture of this demoniac is either painted from life, or it\nis one of the most wonderful feats of the poetic imagination. Nothing\nmore terrible, vivid, penetrating, and real was ever conceived by the\ngreatest creative genius. If it is not simply a portrait, \u00c6schylus or\nDante might own the artist for a brother. We see the quiet landing on\nthe eastern shore, and almost hear the yells that broke the silence as\nthe fierce, demon-ridden man hurried to meet them, perhaps with\nhostile purpose. The dreadful characteristics of his state are sharply\nand profoundly signalised. He lives up in the rock-hewn tombs which\noverhang the beach; for all that belongs to corruption and death is\ncongenial to the subjects of that dark kingdom of evil. He has\nsuperhuman strength, and has known no gentle efforts to reclaim, but\nonly savage attempts to 'tame' by force, as if he were a beast.\nFetters and manacles have been snapped like rushes by him. Restless,\nsleepless, hating men, he has made the night hideous with his wild\nshrieks, and fled, swift as the wind, from place to place among the\nlonely hills. Insensible to pain, and deriving some dreadful\nsatisfaction from his own wounds, he has gashed himself with splinters\nof rock, and howled, in a delirium of pain and pleasure, at the sight\nof his own blood. His sharpened eyesight sees Jesus from afar, and,\nwith the disordered haste and preternatural agility which marked all\nhis movements, he runs towards Him. Such is the introduction to the\nnarrative of the cure. It paints for us not merely a maniac, but a\ndemoniac. He is not a man at war with himself, but a man at war with\nother beings, who have forced themselves into his house of life. At\nleast, so says Mark, and so said Jesus; and if the story before us is\ntrue, its subsequent incidents compel the acceptance of that\nexplanation. What went into the herd of swine?\n\nThe narrative of the restoration of the sufferer has a remarkable\nfeature, which may help to mark off its stages. The word 'besought'\noccurs four times in it, and we may group the details round each\ninstance.\n\nI. The demons beseeching Jesus through the man's voice. He was, in the\nexact sense of the word, _distracted_--drawn two ways. For it would\nseem to have been the self in him that ran to Jesus and fell at His\nfeet, as if in some dim hope of rescue; but it is the demons in him\nthat speak, though the voice be his. They force him to utter their\nwishes, their terrors, their loathing of Christ, though he says 'I'\nand 'me' as if these were his own. That horrible condition of a\ndouble, or, as in this case, a manifold personality, speaking through\nhuman organs, and overwhelming the proper self, mysterious as it is,\nis the very essence of the awful misery of the demoniacs. Unless we\nare resolved to force meanings of our own on Scripture, I do not see\nhow we can avoid recognising this. What black thoughts, seething with\nall rebellious agitation, the reluctant lips have to utter! The\nself-drawn picture of the demoniac nature is as vivid as, and more\nrepellent than, the Evangelist's terrible portrait of the outward man.\nWhatever dumb yearning after Jesus may have been in the oppressed\nhuman consciousness, his words are a shriek of terror and recoil. The\nmere presence of Christ lashes the demons into paroxysms: but before\nthe man spoke, Christ had spoken His stern command to come forth. He\nis answered by this howl of fear and hate. Clear recognition of\nChrist's person is in it, and not difficult to explain, if we believe\nthat others than the sufferer looked through his wild eyes, and spoke\nin his loud cry. They know Him who had conquered their prince long\nago; if the existence of fallen spirits be admitted, their knowledge\nis no difficulty.\n\nThe next element in the words is hatred, as fixed as the knowledge is\nclear. God's supremacy and loftiness, and Christ's nature, are\nrecognised, but only the more abhorred. The name of God can be used as\na spell to sway Jesus, but it has no power to touch this fierce hatred\ninto submission. 'The devils also believe and tremble.' This, then, is\na dark possibility, which has become actual for real living beings,\nthat they should know God, and hate as heartily as they know clearly.\nThat is the terminus towards which human spirits may be travelling.\nChrist's power, too, is recognised, and His mere presence makes the\nflock of obscene creatures nested in the man uneasy, like bats in a\ncave, who flutter against a light. They shrink from Him, and\nshudderingly renounce all connection with Him, as if their cries would\nalter facts, or make Him relax His grip. The very words of the\nquestion prove its folly. 'What is there to me and thee?' implies that\nthere were two parties to the answer; and the writhings of one of them\ncould not break the bond. To all this is to be added that the\n'torment' deprecated was the expulsion from the man, as if there were\nsome grim satisfaction and dreadful alleviation in being there, rather\nthan 'in the abyss'--as Luke gives it--which appears to be the\nalternative. If we put all these things together, we get an awful\nglimpse into the secrets of that dark realm, which it is better to\nponder with awe than flippantly to deny or mock.\n\nHow striking is Christ's unmoved calm in the face of all this fury! He\nis always laconic in dealing with demoniacs; and, no doubt, His\ntranquil presence helped to calm the man, however it excited the\ndemon. The distinct intention of the question, 'What is thy name?' is\nto rouse the man's self-consciousness, and make him feel his separate\nexistence, apart from the alien tyranny which had just been using his\nvoice and usurping his personality. He had said 'I' and 'me.' Christ\nmeets him with, Who is the 'I'? and the very effort to answer would\nfacilitate the deliverance. But for the moment the foreign influence\nis still too strong, and the answer, than which there is nothing more\nweird and awful in the whole range of literature, comes: 'My name is\nLegion; for we are many.' Note the momentary gleam of the true self in\nthe first word or two, fading away into the old confusion. He begins\nwith 'my,' but he drops back to 'we.' Note the pathetic force of the\nname. This poor wretch had seen the solid mass of the Roman legion,\nthe instrument by which foreign tyrants crushed the nations. He felt\nhimself oppressed and conquered by their multitudinous array. The\nvoice of the 'legion' has a kind of cruel ring of triumph, as if\nspoken as much to terrify the victim as to answer the question.\n\nAgain the man's voice speaks, beseeching the direct opposite of what\nhe really would have desired. He was not so much in love with his\ndreadful tenants as to pray against their expulsion, but their fell\npower coerces his lips, and he asks for what would be his ruin. That\nprayer, clean contrary to the man's only hope, is surely the climax of\nthe horror. In a less degree, we also too often deprecate the stroke\nwhich delivers, and would fain keep the legion of evils which riot\nwithin.\n\nII. The demons beseeching Jesus without disguise. There seems to be\nintended a distinction between 'he besought,' in verse 10, and they\n'besought,' in verse 12. Whether we are to suppose that, in the latter\ncase, the man's voice was used or no, the second request was more\nplainly not his, but theirs. It looks as if, somehow, the command was\nalready beginning to take effect, and 'he' and 'they' were less\nclosely intertwined. It is easy to ridicule this part of the incident,\nand as easy to say that it is incredible; but it is wiser to remember\nthe narrow bounds of our knowledge of the unseen world of being, and\nto be cautious in asserting that there is nothing beyond the horizon\nbut vacuity. If there be unclean spirits, we know too little about\nthem to say what is possible. Only this is plain--that the difficulty\nof supposing them to inhabit swine is less, if there be any\ndifference, than of supposing them to inhabit men, since the animal\nnature, especially of such an animal, would correspond to their\nimpurity, and be open to their driving. The house and the tenant are\nwell matched. But why should the expelled demons seek such an abode?\nIt would appear that anywhere was better than 'the abyss,' and that\nunless they could find some creature to enter, thither they must go.\nIt would seem, too, that there was no other land open to them--for the\nprayer on the man's lips had been not to send them 'out of the\ncountry,' as if that was the only country on earth open to them. That\nmakes for the opinion that demoniacal possession was the dark shadow\nwhich attended, for reasons not discoverable by us, the light of\nChrist's coming, and was limited in time and space by His earthly\nmanifestation. But on such matters there is not ground enough for\ncertainty.\n\nAnother difficulty has been raised as to Christ's right to destroy\nproperty. It was very questionable property, if the owners were Jews.\nJesus owns all things, and has the right and the power to use them as\nHe will; and if the purposes served by the destruction of animal life\nor property are beneficent and lofty, it leaves no blot on His\ngoodness. He used His miraculous power twice for destruction--once on\na fig-tree, once on a herd of swine. In both cases, the good sought\nwas worth the loss. Whether was it better that the herd should live\nand fatten, or that a man should be delivered, and that he and they\nwho saw should be assured of his deliverance and of Christ's power?\n'Is not a man much better than a sheep,' and much more than a pig?\nThey are born to be killed, and nobody cries out cruelty. Why should\nnot Christ have sanctioned this slaughter, if it helped to steady the\npoor man's nerves, or to establish the reality of possession and of\nhis deliverance? Notice that the drowning of the herd does not appear\nto have entered into the calculations of the unclean spirits. They\ndesired houses to live in after their expulsion, and for them to\nplunge the swine into the lake would have defeated their purpose. The\nstampede was an unexpected effect of the commingling of the demonic\nwith the animal nature, and outwitted the demons. 'The devil is an\nass.' There is a lower depth than the animal nature; and even swine\nfeel uncomfortable when the demon is in them, and in their panic rush\nanywhere to get rid of the incubus, and, before they know, find\nthemselves struggling in the lake. 'Which things are an allegory.'\n\nIII. The terrified Gerasenes beseeching Jesus to leave them. They had\nrather have their swine than their Saviour, and so, though they saw\nthe demoniac sitting, 'clothed, and in his right mind,' at the feet of\nJesus, they in turn beseech that He should take Himself away. Fear and\nselfishness prompted the prayer. The communities on the eastern side\nof the lake were largely Gentile; and, no doubt, these people knew\nthat they did many worse things than swine-keeping, and may have been\nafraid that some more of their wealth would have to go the same road\nas the herd. They did not want instruction, nor feel that they needed\na healer. Were their prayers so very unlike the wishes of many of us?\nIs there nobody nowadays unwilling to let the thought of Christ into\nhis life, because he feels an uneasy suspicion that, if Christ comes,\na good deal will have to go? How many trades and schemes of life\nreally beseech Jesus to go away and leave them in peace!\n\nAnd He goes away. The tragedy of life is that we have the awful power\nof severing ourselves from His influence. Christ commands unclean\nspirits, but He can only plead with hearts. And if we bid Him depart,\nHe is fain to leave us for the time to the indulgence of our foolish\nand wicked schemes. If any man open, He comes in--oh, how gladly I but\nif any man slam the door in His face, He can but tarry without and\nknock. Sometimes His withdrawing does more than His loudest knocking;\nand sometimes they who repelled Him as He stood on the beach call Him\nback, as He moves away to the boat. It is in the hope that they may,\nthat He goes.\n\nIV. The restored man's beseeching to abide with Christ. No wonder that\nthe spirit of this man, all tremulous with the conflict, and scarcely\nable yet to realise his deliverance, clung to Christ, and besought Him\nto let him continue by His side. Conscious weakness, dread of some\nrecurrence of the inward hell, and grateful love, prompted the prayer.\nThe prayer itself was partly right and partly wrong. Right, in\nclinging to Jesus as the only refuge from the past misery; wrong, in\nclinging to His visible presence as the only way of keeping near Him.\nTherefore, He who had permitted the wish of the demons, and complied\nwith the entreaties of the terrified mob, did _not_ yield to the\nprayer, throbbing with love and conscious weakness. Strange that Jesus\nshould put aside a hand that sought to grasp His in order to be safe;\nbut His refusal was, as always, the gift of something better, and He\never disappoints the wish in order more truly to satisfy the need. The\nbest defence against the return of the evil spirits was in occupation.\nIt is the 'empty' house which invites them back. Nothing was so likely\nto confirm and steady the convalescent mind as to dwell on the fact of\nhis deliverance. Therefore he is sent to proclaim it to friends who\nhad known his dreadful state, and amidst old associations which would\nhelp him to knit his new life to his old, and to treat his misery as a\nparenthesis. Jesus commanded silence or speech according to the need\nof the subjects of His miracles. For some, silence was best, to deepen\nthe impression of blessing received; for others, speech was best, to\nengage and so to fortify the mind against relapse.\n\n\n\nA REFUSED BEQUEST\n\n\n'He that had been possessed with the devil prayed Jesus that he might\nbe with Him. 19. Howbeit Jesus suffered him not, but saith unto him,\nGo home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath\ndone for thee.'--Mark v. 18,19.\n\nThere are three requests, singularly contrasted with each other, made\nto Christ in the course of this miracle of healing the Gadarene\ndemoniac. The evil spirits ask to be permitted to go into the swine;\nthe men of the country, caring more for their swine than their\nSaviour, beg Him to take Himself away, and relieve them of His\nunwelcome presence; the demoniac beseeches Him to be allowed to stop\nbeside Him. Two of the requests are granted; one is refused. The one\nthat was refused is the one that we might have expected to be granted.\n\nChrist forces Himself upon no man, and so, when they besought Him to\ngo, He went, and took salvation with Him in the boat. Christ withdraws\nHimself from no man who desires Him. 'Howbeit Jesus suffered him not,\nand said, Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the\nLord hath done for thee.'\n\nNow, do you not think that if we put these three petitions and their\ndiverse answers together, and look especially at this last one, where\nthe natural wish was refused, we ought to be able to learn some\nlessons?\n\nThe first thing I would notice is, the clinging of the healed man to\nhis Healer.\n\nThink of him half an hour before, a raging maniac; now all at once\nconscious of a strange new sanity and calmness; instead of lashing\nhimself about, and cutting himself with stones, and rending his chains\nand fetters, 'sitting clothed, and in his right mind,' at the feet of\nJesus. No wonder that he feared that when the Healer went the demons\nwould come back--no wonder that he besought Him that he might still\nkeep within that quiet sacred circle of light which streamed from His\npresence, across the border of which no evil thing could pass. Love\nbound him to his Benefactor; dread made him shudder at the thought of\nlosing his sole Protector, and being again left, in that partly\nheathen land, solitary, to battle with the strong foes that had so\nlong rioted in his house of life. And so 'he begged that he might be\nwith Him.'\n\nThat poor heathen man--for you must remember that this miracle was not\nwrought on the sacred soil of Palestine--that poor heathen man, just\nhaving caught a glimpse of how calm and blessed life might be, is the\ntype of us all. And there is something wrong with us if our love does\nnot, like his, desire above all things the presence of Jesus Christ;\nand if our consciousness of impotence does not, in like manner, drive\nus to long that our sole Deliverer shall not be far away from us.\nMerchant-ships in time of war, like a flock of timid birds, keep as\nnear as they can to the armed convoy, for the only safety from the\nguns of the enemy's cruisers is in keeping close to their strong\nprotector. The traveller upon some rough, unknown road, in the dark,\nholds on by his guide's skirts or hand, and feels that if he loses\ntouch he loses the possibility of safety. A child clings to his parent\nwhen dangers are round him. The convalescent patient does not like to\npart with his doctor. And if we rightly learned who it is that has\ncured us, and what is the condition of our continuing whole and sound,\nlike this man we shall pray that He may suffer us to be with Him. Fill\nthe heart with Christ, and there is no room for the many evil spirits\nthat make up the legion that torments it The empty heart invites the\ndevils, and they come back, Even if it is 'swept and garnished,' and\nbrought into respectability, propriety, and morality, they come back,\nThere is only one way to keep them out; when the ark is in the Temple,\nDagon will be lying, like the brute form that he is, a stump upon the\nthreshold. The condition of our security is close contact with Jesus\nChrist. If we know the facts of life, the temptations that ring us\nround, the weakness of these wayward wills of ours, and the strength\nof this intrusive and masterful flesh and sense that we have to rule,\nwe shall know and feel that our only safety is our Master's presence.\n\nFurther, note the strange refusal.\n\nJesus Christ went through the world, or at least the little corner of\nit which His earthly career occupied, seeking for men that desired to\nhave Him, and it is impossible that He should have put away any soul\nthat desired to be present with Him. Yet, though His one aim was to\ndraw men to Him, and the prospect that He should be able to exercise a\nstronger attraction over a wider area reconciled Him to the prospect\nof the Cross, so that He said in triumph, 'I, when I am lifted up from\nthe earth, will draw all men unto Me,' he meets this heathen man,\nfeeble in his crude and recent sanity, with a flat refusal. 'He\nsuffered him not.' Most probably the reason for the strange and\napparently anomalous dealing with such a desire was to be found in the\nman's temperament. Most likely it was the best thing for _him_ that he\nshould stop quietly in his own house, and have no continuance of the\nexcitement and perpetual change which would have necessarily been his\nlot if he had been allowed to go with Jesus Christ. We may be quite\nsure that when the Lord with one hand seemed to put him away, He was\nreally, with a stronger attraction, drawing him to Himself; and that\nthe peculiarity of the method of treatment was determined with\nexclusive reference to the real necessities of the person who was\nsubject to it.\n\nBut yet, underlying the special case, and capable of being stated in\nthe most general terms, lies this thought, that Jesus Christ's\npresence, the substance of the demoniac's desire, may be as\ncompletely, and, in some cases, will be more completely, realised\namongst the secularities of ordinary life than amidst the sanctities\nof outward communion and companionship with Him. Jesus was beginning\nhere to wean the man from his sensuous dependence upon His localised\nand material presence. It was good for him, and it is good for us all,\nto 'feel our feet,' so to speak. Responsibility laid, and felt to be\nlaid, upon us is a steadying and ennobling influence. And it was\nbetter that the demoniac should learn to stand calmly, when apparently\nalone, than that he should childishly be relying on the mere external\npresence of his Deliverer.\n\nBe sure of this, that when the Lord went away across the lake, He left\nHis heart and His thoughts, and His care and His power over there, on\nthe heathen side of the sea; and that when 'the people thronged Him'\non the other side, and the poor woman pressed through the crowd, that\nvirtue might come to her by her touch, virtue was at the same time\nraying out across the water to the solitary newly healed demoniac, to\nsustain him too.\n\nAnd so we may all learn that we may have, and it depends upon\nourselves whether we do or do not have, all protection all\ncompanionship, and all the sweetness of Christ's companionship and the\nsecurity of Christ's protection just as completely when we are at home\namongst our friends--that is to say, when we are about our daily work,\nand in the secularities of our calling or profession--as when we are\nin the 'secret place of the Most High' and holding fellowship with a\npresent Christ. Oh, to carry Him with us into every duty, to realise\nHim in all circumstances, to see the light of His face shine amidst\nthe darkness of calamity, and the pointing of His directing finger\nshowing us our road amidst all perplexities of life! Brethren, that is\npossible. When Jesus Christ 'suffered him not to go with Him,' Jesus\nChrist stayed behind with the man.\n\nLastly, we have here the duty enjoined.\n\n'Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath\ndone for thee.' The man went home and translated the injunction into\nword and deed. As I said, the reason for the peculiarity of his\ntreatment, in his request being refused, was probably his peculiar\ntemperament. So again I would say the reason for the commandment laid\nupon him, which is also anomalous, was probably the peculiarity of his\ndisposition. Usually our Lord was careful to enjoin silence upon those\nwhom He benefited by His miraculous cures. That injunction of silence\nwas largely owing to His desire not to create or fan the flame of\npopular excitement. But that risk was chiefly to be guarded against in\nthe land of Israel, and here, where we have a miracle upon Gentile\nsoil, there was not the same occasion for avoiding talk and notoriety.\n\nBut probably the main reason for the exceptional commandment to go and\npublish abroad what the Lord had done was to be found in the simple\nfact that this man's malady and his disposition were such that\nexternal work of some sort was the best thing to prevent him from\nrelapsing into his former condition. His declaration to everybody of\nhis cure would help to confirm his cure; and whilst he was speaking\nabout being healed, he would more and more realise to himself that he\nwas healed. Having work to do would take him out of himself, which no\ndoubt was a great security against the recurrence of the evil from\nwhich he had been delivered. But however that may be, look at the\nplain lesson that lies here. Every healed man should be a witness to\nhis Healer; and there is no better way of witnessing than by our\nlives, by the elevation manifested in our aims, by our aversion from\nall low, earthly, gross things, by the conspicuous--not made\nconspicuous by us, conspicuous because it cannot be hid--concentration\nand devotion, and unselfishness and Christlikeness of our daily lives\nto show that we are really healed. If we manifest these things in our\nconduct, then, when we say 'it was Jesus Christ that healed me,'\npeople will be apt to believe us. But if this man had gone away into\nthe mountains and amongst the tombs as he used to do, and had\ncontinued all the former characteristics of his devil-ridden life, who\nwould have believed him when he talked about being healed? And who\nought to believe you when you say, 'Christ is my Saviour,' if your\nlives are, to all outward seeming, exactly what they were before?\n\nThe sphere in which the healed man's witness was to be borne tested\nthe reality of his healing. 'Go home to thy friends, and tell _them_.'\nI wonder how many Christian professors there are who would be least\neasily believed by those who live in the same house with them, if they\nsaid that Jesus had cast their devils out of them. It is a great\nmistake to take recent converts, especially if they have been very\nprofligate beforehand, and to hawk them about the country as trophies\nof God's converting power. Let them stop at home, and bethink\nthemselves, and get sober and confirmed, and let their changed lives\nprove the reality of Christ's healing power. They can speak to some\npurpose after that.\n\nFurther, remember that there is no better way for keeping out devils\nthan working for Jesus Christ. Many a man finds that the true\ncure--say, for instance, of doubts that buzz about him and disturb\nhim, is to go away and talk to some one about his Saviour. Work for\nJesus amongst people that do not know Him is a wonderful sieve for\nsifting out the fundamental articles of the Christian faith. And when\nwe go to other people, and tell them of that Lord, and see how the\nmessage is sometimes received, and what it sometimes does, we come\naway with confirmed faith.\n\nBut, in any case, it is better to work for Him than to sit alone,\nthinking about Him. The two things have to go together; and I know\nvery well that there is a great danger, in the present day, of\nexaggeration, and insisting too exclusively upon the duty of Christian\nwork whilst neglecting to insist upon the duty of Christian\nmeditation. But, on the other hand, it blows the cobwebs out of a\nman's brain; it puts vigour into him, it releases him from himself,\nand gives him something better to think about, when he listens to the\nMaster's voice, 'Go home to thy friends, and tell them what great\nthings the Lord hath done for thee.'\n\n'Master! it is good for us to be here. Let us make three tabernacles.\nStay here; let us enjoy ourselves up in the clouds, with Moses and\nElias; and never mind about what goes on below.' But there was a\ndemoniac boy down there that needed to be healed; and the father was\nat his wits' end, and the disciples were at theirs because they could\nnot heal him. And so Jesus Christ turned His back upon the Mount of\nTransfiguration, and the company of the blessed two, and the Voice\nthat said, 'This is My beloved Son,' and hurried down where human woes\ncalled Him, and found that He was as near God, and so did Peter and\nJames and John, as when up there amid the glory.\n\n'Go home to thy friends, and tell them'; and you will find that to do\nthat is the best way to realise the desire which seemed to be put\naside, the desire for the presence of Christ. For be sure that\nwherever He may not be, He always is where a man, in obedience to Him,\nis doing His commandments. So when He said, 'Go home to thy friends,'\nHe was answering the request that He seamed to reject, and when the\nGadarene obeyed, he would find, to his astonishment and his grateful\nwonder, that the Lord had _not_ gone away in the boat, but was with\nhim still. 'Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel. Lo! I am\nwith you always.'\n\n\n\nTALITHA CUMI\n\n\nAnd, behold, there cometh one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus\nby name; and when he saw Him, he fell at His feet, 23. And besought\nHim greatly, saying, My little daughter lieth at the point of death: I\npray Thee, come and lay Thy hands on her, that she may be healed; and\nshe shall live. 24. And Jesus went with him; and much people followed\nHim, and thronged Him.... 35. While He yet spake, there came from the\nruler of the synagogue's house certain which said, Thy daughter is\ndead: why troublest thou the Master any further? 36. As soon as Jesus\nheard the word that was spoken, He saith unto the ruler of the\nsynagogue, Be not afraid, only believe. 37. And He suffered no man to\nfollow Him, save Peter, and James, and John the brother of James. 38.\nAnd He cometh to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and seeth\nthe tumult, and them that wept and wailed greatly. 39. And when He was\ncome in, He saith unto them, Why make ye this ado, and weep? the\ndamsel is not dead, but sleepeth. 40. And they laughed Him to scorn.\nBut when He had put them all out, He taketh the father and the mother\nof the damsel, and them that were with Him, and entereth in where the\ndamsel was lying. 41. And He took the damsel by the hand, and said\nunto her, Talitha cumi; which is, being interpreted, Damsel, I say\nunto thee, arise. 42. And straightway the damsel arose, and walked;\nfor she was of the age of twelve years. And they were astonished with\na great astonishment. 43. And He charged them straitly that no man\nshould know it; and commanded that something should be given her to\neat.'--Mark v. 22-24, 35-43.\n\nThe scene of this miracle was probably Capernaum; its time, according\nto Matthew, was the feast at his house after his call. Mark's date\nappears to be later, but he may have anticipated the feast in his\nnarrative, in order to keep the whole of the incidents relating to\nMatthew's apostleship together. Jairus's knowledge of Jesus is implied\nin the story, and perhaps Jesus' acquaintance with him.\n\nI. We note, first, the agonised appeal and the immediate answer.\nDesperation makes men bold. Conventionalities are burned up by the\nfire of agonised petitioning for help in extremity. Without apology or\npreliminary, Jairus bursts in, and his urgent need is sufficient\nexcuse. Jesus never complains of scant respect when wrung hearts cry\nto Him. But this man was not only driven by despair, but drawn by\ntrust. He was sure that, even though his little darling had been all\nbut dead when he ran from his house, and was dead by this time, for\nall he knew, Jesus could give her life. Perhaps he had not faced the\nstern possibility that she might already be gone, nor defined\nprecisely what he hoped for in that case. But he was sure of Jesus'\npower, and he says nothing to show that he doubted His willingness. A\nbeautiful trust shines through his words, based, no doubt, on what he\nhad known and seen of Jesus' miracles. _We_ have more pressing and\ndeeper needs, and we have fuller and deeper knowledge of Jesus,\nwherefore our approach to Him should be at least as earnest and\nconfidential as Jairus's was. If our Lord was at the feast when this\ninterruption took place, His gracious, immediate answer becomes more\nlovely, as a sign of His willingness to bring the swiftest help.\n'While they are yet speaking, I will hear.' Jairus had not finished\nasking before Jesus was on His feet to go.\n\nThe father's impatience would be satisfied when they were on their\nway, but how he would chafe, and think every moment an age, while\nJesus stayed, as if at entire leisure, to deal with another silent\npetitioner! But His help to one never interferes with His help to\nanother, and no case is so pressing as that He cannot spare time to\nstay to bless some one else. The poor, sickly, shamefaced woman shall\nbe healed, and the little girl shall not suffer.\n\nII. We have next the extinction and rekindling of Jairus's glimmer of\nhope. Distances in Capernaum were short, and the messenger would soon\nfind Jesus. There was little sympathy in the harsh, bald announcement\nof the death, or in the appended suggestion that the Rabbi need not be\nfurther troubled. The speaker evidently was thinking more of being\npolite to Jesus than of the poor father's stricken heart, Jairus would\nfeel then what most of us have felt in like circumstances,--that he\nhad been more hopeful than he knew. Only when the last glimmer is\nquenched do we feel, by the blackness, how much light had lingered in\nour sky, But Jesus knew Jairus's need before Jairus himself knew it,\nand His strong word of cheer relit the torch ere the poor father had\ntime to speak. That loving eye reads our hearts and anticipates our\ndreary hopelessness by His sweet comfortings. Faith is the only\nvictorious antagonist of fear. Jairus had every reason for abandoning\nhope, and his only reason for clinging to it was faith. So it is with\nus all. It is vain to bid us not be afraid when real dangers and\nmiseries stare us in the face; but it is not vain to bid us 'believe,'\nand if we do that, faith, cast into the one scale, will outweigh a\nhundred good reasons for dread and despair cast into the other.\n\nIII. We have next the tumult of grief and the word that calms. The\nhired mourners had lost no time, and in Eastern fashion were\ndisturbing the solemnity of death with their professional shrieks and\nwailings. True grief is silent. Woe that weeps aloud is soon consoled.\n\nWhat a contrast between the noise outside and the still death-chamber\nand its occupant, and what a contrast between the agitation of the\nsham comforters and the calmness of the true Helper! Christ's great\nword was spoken for us all when our hearts are sore and our dear ones\ngo. It dissolves the dim shape into nothing ness, or, rather, it\ntransfigures it into a gracious, soothing form. Sleep is rest, and\nbears in itself the pledge of waking. So Christ has changed the\n'shadow feared of man' into beauty, and in the strength of His great\nword we can meet the last enemy with 'Welcome! friend.' It is strange\nthat any one reading this narrative should have been so blind to its\ndeepest beauty as to suppose that Jesus was here saying that the child\nhad only swooned, and was really alive. He was not denying that she\nwas what men call 'dead,' but He was, in the triumphant consciousness\nof His own power, and in the clear vision of the realities of\nspiritual being, of which bodily states are but shadows, denying that\nwhat men call death deserves the name. 'Death' is the state of the\nsoul separated from God, whether united to the body or no,--not the\nseparation of body and soul, which is only a visible symbol of the\nmore dread reality.\n\nIV. We have finally the life-giving word and the life-preserving care.\nProbably Jesus first freed His progress from the jostling crowd, and\nthen, when arrived, made the further selection of the three\napostles,--the first three of the mighty ones--and, as was becoming,\nof the father and mother.\n\nWith what hushed, tense expectation they would enter the chamber!\nThink of the mother's eyes watching Him. The very words that He spoke\nwere like a caress. There was infinite tenderness in that 'Damsel!'\nfrom His lips, and so deep an impression did it make on Peter that he\nrepeated the very words to Mark, and used them, with the change of one\nletter ('Ta_b_itha' for 'Ta_l_itha'), in raising Dorcas. The same\ntenderness is expressed by His taking her by the hand, as, no doubt,\nher mother had done, many a morning, on waking her. The father had\nasked Him to lay His hand on her, that she might be made whole and\nlive. He did as He was asked,--He always does--and His doing according\nto our desire brings larger blessings than we had thought of. Neither\nthe touch of His hand nor the words He spoke were the real agents of\nthe child's returning to life. It was His will which brought her back\nfrom whatever vasty dimness she had entered. The forth-putting of\nChrist's will is sovereign, and His word runs with power through all\nregions of the universe. 'The dull, cold ear of death' hears, and\n'they that hear shall live,' whether they are, as men say, dead, or\nwhether they are 'dead in trespasses and sins.' The resurrection of a\nsoul is a mightier act--if we can speak of degrees of might in His\nacts--than that of a body.\n\nIt would be calming for the child of such strange experiences to see,\nfor the first thing that met her eyes opening again on the old\nfamiliar home as on a strange land, the bending face of Jesus, and His\ntouch would steady her spirit and assure of His love and help. The\nquiet command to give her food knits the wonder with common life, and\nteaches precious lessons as to His economy of miraculous power, like\nHis bidding others loosen Lazarus's wrappings, and as to His\ndevolution on us of duties towards those whom He raises from the death\nof sin. But it was given, not didactically, but lovingly. The girl was\nexhausted, and sustenance was necessary, and would be sweet. So He\nthought upon a small bodily need, and the love that gave life took\ncare to provide what was required to support it. He gives the\ngreatest; He will take care that we shall not lack the least.\n\n\n\nTHE POWER OF FEEBLE FAITH\n\n\n'And a certain woman ... 27. When she had heard of Jesus, came in the\npress behind, and touched His garment. 28. For she said, If I may\ntouch but His clothes, I shall be whole.'--Mark v. 25, 27, 28.\n\nIn all the narratives of this miracle, it is embedded in the story of\nJairus's daughter, which it cuts in twain. I suppose that the\nEvangelists felt, and would have us feel, the impression of calm\nconsciousness of power and of leisurely dignity produced by Christ's\nhaving time to pause even on such an errand, in order to heal by the\nway, as if parenthetically, this other poor sufferer. The child's\nfather with impatient earnestness pleads the urgency of her case--'She\nlieth at the point of death'; and to him and to the group of\ndisciples, it must have seemed that there was no time to be lost. But\nHe who knows that His resources are infinite can afford to let her\ndie, while He cures and saves this woman. She shall receive no harm,\nand her sister suppliant has as great a claim on Him. 'The eyes of all\nwait' on His equal love; He has leisure of heart to feel for each, and\nfulness of power for all; and none can rob another of his share in the\nHealer's gifts, nor any in all that dependent crowd jostle his\nneighbour out of the notice of the Saviour's eye.\n\nThe main point of the story itself seems to be the illustration which\nit gives of the genuineness and power of an imperfect faith, and of\nChrist's merciful way of responding to and strengthening such a faith.\nLooked at from that point of view, the narrative is very striking and\ninstructive.\n\nThe woman is a poor shrinking creature, broken down by long illness,\nmade more timid still by many disappointed hopes of core, depressed by\npoverty to which her many doctors had brought her. She does not\nventure to stop this new Rabbi-physician, as He goes with the rich\nchurch dignitary to heal his daughter, but lets Him pass before she\ncan make up her mind to go near Him at all, and then comes creeping up\nin the crowd behind, puts out her wasted, trembling hand to His\ngarment's hem--and she is whole. She would fain have stolen away with\nher new-found blessing, but Christ forces her to stand out before the\nthrong, and there, with all their eyes upon her--cold, cruel eyes some\nof them--to conquer her diffidence and shame, and tell all the truth.\nStrange kindness that! strangely contrasted with His ordinary care to\navoid notoriety, and with His ordinary tender regard for shrinking\nweakness! What may have been the reason? Certainly it was not for His\nown sake at all, nor for others' chiefly, but for hers, that He did\nthis. The reason lay in the incompleteness of her faith. It was very\nincomplete--although it was, Christ answered it. And then He sought to\nmake the cure, and the discipline that followed it, the means of\nclearing and confirming her trust in Himself.\n\nI. Following the order of the narrative thus understood, we have here\nfirst the great lesson, that very imperfect faith may be genuine\nfaith. There was unquestionable confidence in Christ's healing power,\nand there was earnest desire for healing. Our Lord Himself recognises\nher faith as adequate to be the condition of her receiving the cure\nwhich she desired. Of course, it was a very different thing from the\nfaith which unites us to Christ, and is the condition of our receiving\nour soul's cure; and we shall never understand the relation of\nmultitudes of the people in the Gospels to Jesus, if we insist upon\nsupposing that the 'faith to be healed,' which many of them had, was a\nreligious, or, as we call it, 'saving faith.' But still, the trust\nwhich was directed to Him, as the giver of miraculous temporal\nblessings, is akin to that higher trust into which it often passed,\nand the principles regulating the operation of the loftier are\nabundantly illustrated in the workings of the lower.\n\nThe imperfections, then, of this woman's faith were many. It was\nintensely _ignorant_ trust. She dimly believes that, somehow or other,\nthis miracle-working Rabbi will heal her, but the cure is to be a\npiece of magic, secured by material contact of her finger with His\nrobe. She has no idea that Christ's will, or His knowledge, much less\nHis pitying love, has anything to do with it. She thinks that she may\nget her desire furtively, and may carry it away out of the crowd, and\nHe, the source of it, be none the wiser, and none the poorer, for the\nblessing which she has stolen from Him. What utter blank ignorance of\nChrist's character and way of working! What complete misconception of\nthe relation between Himself and His gift! What low, gross,\nsuperstitious ideas! Yes, and with them all what a hunger of intense\ndesire to be whole; what absolute assurance of confidence that one\nfinger-tip on His robe was enough! Therefore she had her desire, and\nher Lord recognised her faith as true, foolish and unworthy as were\nthe thoughts which accompanied it!\n\nThank God! the same thing is true still, or what would become of any\nof us? There may be a real faith in Christ, though there be mixed with\nit many and grave errors concerning His work, and the manner of\nreceiving the blessings which He bestows. A man may have a very hazy\napprehension of the bearing and whole scope of even Scripture\ndeclarations concerning the profounder aspects of Christ's person and\nwork, and yet be holding fast to Him by living confidence. I do not\nwish to underrate for one moment the absolute necessity of clear and\ntrue conceptions of revealed truth, in order to a vigorous and fully\ndeveloped faith; but, while there can be no faith worth calling so,\nwhich is not based upon the intellectual reception of truth, there may\nbe faith based upon the very imperfect intellectual reception of very\npartial truth. The power and vitality of faith are not measured by the\ncomprehensiveness and clearness of belief. The richest soil may bear\nshrunken and barren ears; and on the arid sand, with the thinnest\nlayer of earth, gorgeous cacti may bloom out, and fleshy aloes lift\ntheir sworded arms, with stores of moisture to help them through the\nheat. It is not for us to say what amount of ignorance is destructive\nof the possibility of real confidence in Jesus Christ. But for\nourselves, feeling how short a distance our eyesight travels, and how\nlittle, after all our systems, the great bulk of men in Christian\nlands know lucidly and certainly of theological truth, and how wide\nare the differences of opinion amongst us, and how soon we come to\ntowering barriers, beyond which our poor faculties can neither pass\nnor look, it ought to be a joy to us all, that a faith which is\nclouded with such ignorance may yet be a faith which Christ accepts.\nHe that knows and trusts Him as Brother, Friend, Saviour, in whom he\nreceives the pardon and cleansing which he needs and desires, may have\nvery much misconception and error cleaving to him, but Christ accepts\nhim. If at the beginning His disciples know but this much, that they\nare sick unto death, and have tried without success all other\nremedies, and this more, that Christ will heal them; and if their\nfaith builds upon that knowledge, then they will receive according to\ntheir faith. By degrees they will be taught more; they will be brought\nto the higher benches in His school; but, for a beginning, the most\ncloudy apprehension that Christ is the Saviour of the world, and my\nSaviour, may become the foundation of a trust which will bind the\nheart to Him and knit Him to the heart in eternal union. This poor\nwoman received her healing, although she said, 'If I may touch but the\nhem of His garment, I shall be whole.'\n\nHer error was akin to one which is starting into new prominence again,\nand with which I need not say that I have no sort of sympathy,--that\nof people who attach importance to externals as means and channels of\ngrace, and in whose system the hem of the garment and the touch of the\nfinger are apt to take the place which the heart of the wearer and the\ngrasp of faith should hold. The more our circumstances call for\nresistance to this error, the more needful is it to remember that,\nalong with it and uttering itself through it, may be a depth of devout\ntrust in Christ, which should shame us. Many a poor soul that clasps\nthe base of the crucifix clings to the cross; many a devout heart,\nkneeling before the altar, sees through the incense-smoke the face of\nthe Christ. The faith that is tied to form, though it be no faith for\na man, though in some respects it darken God's Gospel, and bring it\ndown to the level of magical superstition, may yet be, and often is,\naccepted by Him whose merciful eye recognised, and whose swift power\nanswered, the mistaken trust of her who believed that healing lay in\nthe fringes of His robe, rather than in the pity of His heart.\n\nAgain, her trust was very _selfish_. She wanted health; she did not\ncare about the Healer. She thought much of the blessing in itself,\nlittle or nothing of the blessing as a sign of His love. She would\nhave been quite contented to have had nothing more to do with Christ\nif she could only have gone away cured. She felt but little glow of\ngratitude to Him whom she thought of as unconscious of the good which\nshe had stolen from Him. All this is a parallel to what occurs in the\nearly stages of many a Christian life. The first inducement to a\nserious contemplation of Christ is, ordinarily, the consciousness of\none's own sore need. Most men are driven to Him as a refuge from self,\nfrom their own sin, and from the wages of sin. The soul, absorbed in\nits own misery, and groaning in a horror of great darkness, sees from\nafar a great light, and stumbles towards it. Its first desire is\ndeliverance, forgiveness, escape; and the first motions of faith are\nimpelled by consideration of personal consequences. Love comes after,\nborn of the recognition of Christ's great love to which we owe our\nsalvation; but faith precedes love in the natural order of things,\nhowever closely love may follow faith; and the predominant motive in\nthe earlier stages of many men's faith is distinctly self-regard. Now,\nthat is all right, and as it was meant to be. It is an overstrained\nand caricatured doctrine of self-abnegation, which condemns such a\nfaith as wrong. The most purely self-absorbed wish to escape from the\nmost rudely pictured hell may be, and often is, the beginning of a\ntrue trust in Christ. Some of our superfine modern teachers who are\nshocked at Christianity, because it lays the foundation of the\nloftiest, most self-denying morality in 'selfishness' of that kind,\nwould be all the wiser for going to school to this story, and laying\nto heart the lesson it contains, of how a desire no nobler than to get\nrid of a painful disease was the starting-point of a moral\ntransformation, which turned a life into a peaceful, thankful\nsurrender of the cured self to the service and love of the mighty\nHealer. But while this faith, for the sake of the blessing to be\nobtained, is genuine, it is undoubtedly imperfect. Quite legitimate\nand natural at first, it must grow into something nobler when it has\nonce been answered. To think of the disease mainly is inevitable\nbefore the cure, but, after the cure, we should think most of the\nPhysician. Self-love may impel to His feet; but Christ-love should be\nthe moving spring of life thereafter. Ere we have received anything\nfrom Him, our whole soul may be a longing to have our gnawing\nemptiness filled; but when we have received His own great gift, our\nwhole soul should be a thank-offering. The great reformation which\nChrist produces is, that He shifts the centre for us from ourselves to\nHimself; and whilst He uses our sense of need and our fear of personal\nevil as the means towards this, He desires that the faith, which has\nbeen answered by deliverance, should thenceforward be a 'faith which\nworketh by love.' As long as we live, either here or yonder, we shall\nnever get beyond the need for the exercise of the primary form of\nfaith, for we shall ever be compassed by many needs, and dependent for\nall help and blessedness on Him; but as we grow in experience of His\ntender might, we should learn more and more that His gifts cannot be\nseparated from Himself. We should prize them most for His sake, and\nlove Him more than we do them. We should be drawn to Him as well as\ndriven to Him. Faith may begin with desiring the blessing rather than\nthe Christ. It must end with desiring Him more than all besides, and\nwith losing self utterly in His great love. Its starting-point may\nrightly be, 'Save, Lord, or I perish.' Its goal must be, 'I live, yet\nnot I, but Christ liveth in me.'\n\nAgain, here is an instance of real faith weakened and interrupted by\nmuch _distrust_. There was not a full, calm reliance on Christ's power\nand love. She dare not appeal to His heart, she shrinks from meeting\nHis eye. She will let Him pass, and then put forth a tremulous hand.\nCross-currents of emotion agitate her soul. She doubts, yet she\nbelieves; she is afraid, yet emboldened by her very despair; too\ndiffident to cast herself on His pity, she is too confident not to\nresort to His healing virtue.\n\nAnd so is it ever with our faith. Its ideal perfection would be that\nit should be unbroken, undashed by any speck of doubt. But the reality\nis far different. It is no full-orbed completeness, but, at the best,\na growing segment of reflected light, with many a rough place in its\njagged outline, prophetic of increase; with many a deep pit of\nblackness on its silver surface; with many a storm-cloud sweeping\nacross its face; conscious of eclipse and subject to change. And yet\nit is the light which He has set to rule the night of life, and we may\nrejoice in its crescent beam. We are often tempted to question the\nreality of faith in ourselves and others, by reason of the unbelief\nand disbelief which co-exist with it. But why should we do so? May\nthere not be an inner heart and centre of true trust, with a nebulous\nenvironment of doubt, through which the nucleus shall gradually send\nits attracting and consolidating power, and turn it, too, into firm\nsubstance? May there not be a germ, infinitesimal, yet with a real\nlife throbbing in its microscopic minuteness, and destined to be a\ngreat tree, with all the fowls of the air lodging in its branches? May\nthere not be hid in a heart a principle of action, which is obviously\nmarked out for supremacy, though it has not yet come to sovereign\npower and manifestation in either the inward or the outward being?\nWhere do we learn that faith must be complete to be genuine? Our own\nweak hearts say it to us often enough; and our lingering unbelief is\nonly too ready to hiss into our ears the serpent's whisper, 'You are\ndeceiving yourself; look at your doubts, your coldness, your\nforgetfulness: _you_ have no faith at all.' To all such morbid\nthoughts, which only sap the strength of the spirit, and come from\nbeneath, not from above, we have a right to oppose the first great\nlesson of this story--the reality of an imperfect faith. And, turning\nfrom the profitless contemplation of the feebleness of our grasp of\nChrist's robe to look on Him, the fountain of all spiritual energy,\nlet us cleave the more confidently to Him for every discovery of our\nown weakness, and cry to Him for help against ourselves, that He would\nnot 'quench the smoking flax'; for the old prayer is never offered in\nvain, when offered, as at first, with tears, 'Lord, I believe; help\nThou mine unbelief.'\n\nII. The second stage of this story sets forth a truth involved in what\nI have already said, but still needing to be dealt with for a moment\nby itself--namely, that Christ answers the imperfect faith.\n\nThere was no real connection between the touch of His robe and the\ncure, but the poor ignorant sufferer thought that there was; and,\ntherefore, Christ stoops to her childish thought, and allows her to\nprescribe the path by which His gift shall reach her. That thin wasted\nhand stretched itself up beyond the height to which it could\nordinarily reach, and, though that highest point fell far short of\nHim, He lets His blessing down to her level. He does not say,\n'Understand Me, put away thy false notion of healing power residing in\nMy garment's hem, or I heal thee not.' But He says, 'Dost thou think\nthat it is through thy finger on My robe? Then, through thy finger on\nMy robe it shall be. According to thy faith, be it unto thee.'\n\nAnd so it is ever. Christ's mercy, like water in a vase, takes the\nshape of the vessel that holds it. On the one hand, His grace is\ninfinite, and 'is given to every one of us according to the measure of\nthe gift of Christ'--with no limitation but His own unlimited fulness;\non the other hand, the amount which we practically receive from that\ninexhaustible store is, at each successive moment, determined by the\nmeasure and the purity and the intensity of our faith. On His part\nthere is no limit but infinity, on our sides the limit is our\ncapacity, and our capacity is settled by our desires. His word to us\never is, 'Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it.' 'Be it unto thee\neven as thou wilt.'\n\nA double lesson, therefore, lies in this thought for us all. First,\nlet us labour that our faith may be enlightened, importunate, and\nfirm: for every flaw in it will injuriously affect our possession of\nthe grace of God. Errors in opinion will hinder the blessings that\nflow from the truths which we misconceive or reject. Languor of desire\nwill diminish the sum and enfeeble the energy of the powers that work\nin us. Wavering confidence, crossed and broken, like the solar\nspectrum, by many a dark line of doubt, will make our conscious\npossession of Christ's gift fitful. We have a deep well to draw from.\nLet us take care that the vessel with which we draw is in size\nproportionate to _its_ depth and _our_ need, that the chain to which\nit hangs is strong, and that no leaks in it let the full supply run\nout, nor any stains on its inner surface taint and taste the bright\ntreasure.\n\nAnd the other lesson is this. There can be no faith so feeble that\nChrist does not respond to it. The most ignorant, self-regarding,\ntimid trust may unite the soul to Jesus Christ. To desire is to have;\nand 'whosoever will, may take of the water of life freely.' If you\nonly come to Him, though He have passed, He will stop. If you come\ntrusting and yet doubting, He will forgive the doubt and answer the\ntrust. If you come to Him, knowing but that your heart is full of evil\nwhich none save He can cure, and putting out a lame hand--or even a\ntremulous finger-tip--to touch His garment, be sure that anything is\npossible rather than that He should turn away your prayer, or His\nmercy from you.\n\nIII. The last part of this miracle teaches us that Christ corrects and\nconfirms an imperfect faith by the very act of answering it.\n\nObserve how the process of cure and the discipline which followed are,\nin Christ's loving wisdom, made to fit closely to all the faults and\nflaws in the suppliant's faith.\n\nShe had thought of the healing energy as independent of the Healer's\nknowledge and will. Therefore His very first word shows her that He is\naware of her mute appeal, and conscious of the going forth from Him of\nthe power that cures--'Who touched Me?' As was said long ago, 'the\nmultitudes thronged Him, but the woman touched.' Amidst all the\njostling of the unmannerly crowd that trod with rude feet on His\nskirts, and elbowed their way to see this new Rabbi, there was one\ntouch unlike all the rest; and, though it was only that of the\nfinger-tip of a poor woman, wasted to skin and bone with twelve years'\nweakening disease, He knew it; and His will and love sent forth the\n'virtue' which healed. May we not fairly apply this lesson to\nourselves? Christ is, as most of us, I suppose, believe, Lord of all\ncreatures, administering the affairs of the universe; the steps of His\nthrone and the precincts of His court are thronged with dependants\nwhose eyes wait upon Him, and who are fed from His stores; and yet my\npoor voice may steal through that chorus-shout of petition and praise,\nand His ear will detect its lowest note, and will separate the thin\nstream of my prayer from the great sea of supplication which rolls to\nHis seat, and will answer _me_. My hand uplifted among the millions of\nempty and imploring palms that are raised towards the heaven will\nreceive into its clasping fingers the special blessing for my special\nwants.\n\nAgain, she had been selfish in her faith, had not cared for any close\npersonal relation with Him; and so she was taught that He was in all\nHis gifts, and that He was more than all His gifts. He compels her to\ncome to His feet that she may learn His heart, and may carry away a\nblessing not stolen, but bestowed\n\n  'With open love, not secret cure,\n  The Lord of hearts would bless.'\n\nAnd thus is laid the foundation for a personal bond between her and\nChrist, which shall be for the joy of her life, and shall make of that\nlife a thankful sacrifice to Him, the Healer.\n\nThus it is with us all. We may go to Him, at first, with no thought\nbut for ourselves. But we have not to carry away His gift hidden in\nour hands. We learn that it is a love-token from Him. And so we find\nin His answer to faith the true and only cure for all self-regard; and\nmoved by the mercies of Christ, are led to do what else were\nimpossible--to yield ourselves as 'living sacrifices' to Him.\n\nAgain, she had shrunk from publicity. Her womanly diffidence, her\nenfeebled health, the shame of her disease, all made her wish to hide\nherself and her want from His eye, and to hide herself and her\ntreasure from men. She would fain steal away unnoticed, as she hoped\nshe had come. But she is dragged out before all the thronging\nmultitude, and has to tell the whole. The answer to her faith makes\nher bold. In a moment she is changed from timidity to courage; a\ntremulous invalid ready to creep into any corner to escape notice, she\nstretched out her hand--the instant after, she knelt at His feet in\nthe spirit of a confessor. This is Christ's most merciful fashion of\ncuring our cowardice--not by rebukes, but by giving us, faint-hearted\nthough we be, the gift which out of weakness makes us strong. He would\nhave us testify to Him before men, and that for our own sakes, since\nfaith unacknowledged, like a plant in the dark, is apt to become pale\nand sickly, and bear no bright blossoms nor sweet fruit. But, ere He\nbids us own His name, He pours into our hearts, in answer to our\nsecret appeal, the health of His own life, and the blissful\nconsciousness of that great gift which makes the tongue of the dumb\nsing. Faith at first may be very timid, but faith will grow bold to\nwitness of Him and not be ashamed, in the exact proportion in which it\nis genuine, and receives from Christ of His fulness.\n\nAnd then--with a final word to set forth still more clearly that she\nhad received the blessing from His love, not from His magical power,\nand through her confidence, not through her touch--'Daughter! thy\nfaith'--not thy finger--'hath made thee whole; go in peace and _be_\nwhole'--Jesus confirms by His own authoritative voice the furtive\nblessing, and sends her away, perhaps to see Him no more, but to live\nin tranquil security, and in her humble home to guard the gift which\nHe had bestowed on her imperfect faith, and to perfect--we may\nhope--the faith which He had enlightened and strengthened by the\nover-abundance of His gift.\n\nDear friends, this poor woman represents us all. Like her, we are sick\nof a sore sickness, we have spent our substance in trying physicians\nof no value, and are 'nothing the better, but rather the worse.' Oh!\nis it not strange that you should need to be urged to go to the Healer\nto whom she went? Do not be afraid, my brother, of telling Him all\nyour pain and pining--He knows it already. Do not be afraid that your\nhand may not reach Him for the crowd, or that your voice may fail to\nfall on His ear. Do not be afraid of your ignorance, do not be afraid\nof your wavering confidence and many doubts. All these cannot separate\nyou from Him who 'Himself took our infirmities and bare our\nsicknesses.' Fear but one thing--that He pass on to carry life and\nhealth to other souls, ere you resolve to press to His feet. Fear but\none thing--that whilst you delay, the hem of the garment may be swept\nbeyond the reach of your slow hand. Imperfect faith may bring\nsalvation to a soul: hesitation may ruin and wreck a life.\n\n\n\nTOUCH OR FAITH?\n\n\n'If I may touch but His clothes, I shall be whole.... Daughter, thy\nfaith hath made thee whole.'--Mark v. 28,34.\n\n\nI. The erroneous faith.--In general terms there is here an\nillustration of how intellectual error may coexist with sincere faith.\nThe precise form of error is clearly that she looked on the physical\ncontact with the material garment as the vehicle of healing--the very\nsame thing which we find ever since running through the whole history\nof the Church, _e.g._ the exaltation of externals, rites, ordinances,\nsacraments, etc.\n\nTake two or three phases of it--\n\n1. You get it formularised into a system in sacramentarianism.\n\n(a) Baptismal regeneration,\n\n(b) Holy Communion.\n\nReligion becomes largely a thing of rites and ceremonies.\n\n2. You get it in Protestant form among Dissenters in the importance\nattached to Church membership.\n\nOutward acts of worship.\n\nThere is abroad a vague idea that somehow we get good from external\nassociation with religious acts, and so on. This feeling is deep in\nhuman nature, is not confined to the Roman Catholic Church, and is not\nthe work of priests. There is a strange revival of it to-day, and so\nthere is need of protest against it in every form.\n\nII. The blessing that comes to an erroneous faith.--The woman here was\ntoo 'ritualistic.' How many good people there are in that same school\nto-day! Yet how blessed for us all, that, even along with many errors,\nif we grasp _Him_ we shall not lose the grace.\n\nIII. Christ's gentle enlightenment on the error.--'Thy faith hath\nsaved thee.' How wonderfully beautiful! He cures by giving the\nblessing and leading on to the full truth. In regard to the woman, it\nmight have been that her touch _did_ heal; but even there in the\nphysical realm, since it was He, not His robe, that healed, it was her\nfaith, not her hand, that procured the blessing. This is universally\ntrue in the spiritual realm.\n\n(a) Salvation is purely spiritual and inward in its nature--not an\noutward work, but a new nature, 'love, joy, peace.' Hence\n\n(b) Faith is the condition of salvation. Faith saves because _He_\nsaves, and faith is contact with Him. It is the only thing which joins\na soul to Christ. Then learn what makes a Christian.\n\n(c) Hence, the place of externals is purely subsidiary to faith. If\nthey help a man to believe and feel more strongly, they are good.\nTheir only office is the same as that of preaching or reading. In\nboth, truth is the agent. Their power is in enforcing truth.\n\n\n\nTHE LOOKS OF JESUS\n\n\n'And He looked round about to see her that had done this thing.'--Mark\nv. 32.\n\nThis Gospel of Mark is full of little touches that speak an\neye-witness who had the gift of noting and reproducing vividly small\ndetails which make a scene live before us. Sometimes it is a word of\ndescription: 'There was much grass in the place.' Sometimes it is a\nnote of Christ's demeanour: 'Looking up to heaven, He sighed.'\nSometimes it is the very Aramaic words He spoke: 'Ephphatha.' Very\noften the Evangelist tells us of our Lord's looks, the gleams of pity\nand melting tenderness, the grave rebukes, the lofty authority that\nshone in them. We may well believe that on earth as in heaven, 'His\neyes were as a flame of fire,' burning with clear light of knowledge\nand pure flame of love. These looks had pierced the soul, and lived\nfor ever in the memory, of the eye-witness, whoever he was, who was\nthe informant of Mark. Probably the old tradition is right, and it is\nPeter's loving quickness of observation that we have to thank for\nthese precious minutiae. But be that as it may, the records in this\nGospel of the _looks_ of Christ are very remarkable. My present\npurpose is to gather them together, and by their help to think of Him\nwhose meek, patient 'eye' is 'still upon them that fear Him,'\nbeholding our needs and our sins.\n\nTaking the instances in the order of their occurrence, they are\nthese--'He looked round on the Pharisees with anger, being grieved for\nthe hardness of their hearts' (iii. 5). He looked on His disciples and\nsaid, 'Behold My mother and My brethren!' (iii. 32). He looked round\nabout to see who had touched the hem of His garment (v. 32). He turned\nand looked on His disciples before rebuking Peter (viii. 33), He\nlooked lovingly on the young questioner, asking what he should do to\nobtain eternal life (x. 21), and in the same context, He looked round\nabout to His disciples after the youth had gone away sorrowful, and\nenforced the solemn lesson of His lips with the light of His eye (x.\n23, 27). Lastly, He looked round about on all things in the temple on\nthe day of His triumphal entry into Jerusalem (xi. 11). These are the\ninstances in this Gospel. One look of Christ's is not mentioned in it,\nwhich we might have expected--namely, that which sent Peter out from\nthe judgment hall to break into a passion of penitent tears. Perhaps\nthe remembrance was too sacred to be told--at all events, the\nEvangelist who gives us so many similar notes is silent about that\nlook, and we have to learn of it from another.\n\nWe may throw these instances into groups according to their objects,\nand so bring out the many-sided impression which they produce.\n\nI. The welcoming look of love and pity to those who seek Him.\n\nTwo of the recorded instances fall into their place here. The one is\nthis of our text, of the woman who came behind Christ to touch His\nrobe, and be healed: the other is that of the young ruler.\n\nTake that first instance of the woman, wasted with disease, timid with\nthe timidity of her sex, of her long sickness, of her many\ndisappointments. She steals through the crowd that rudely presses on\nthis miracle-working Rabbi, and manages somehow to stretch out a\nwasted arm through some gap in the barrier of people about Him, and\nwith her pallid, trembling finger to touch the edge of His robe. The\ncure comes at once. It was all that she wanted, but not all that He\nwould give her. Therefore He turns and lets His eye fall upon her.\nThat draws her to Him. It told her that she had not been too bold. It\ntold her that she had not surreptitiously stolen healing, but that He\nhad knowingly given it, and that His loving pity went with it. So it\nconfirmed the gift, and, what was far more, it revealed the Giver. She\nhad thought to bear away a secret boon unknown to all but herself. She\ngets instead an open blessing, with the Giver's heart in it.\n\nThe look that rested on her, like sunshine on some plant that had long\npined and grown blanched in the shade, revealed Christ's knowledge,\nsympathy, and loving power. And in all these respects it is a\nrevelation of the Christ for all time, and for every seeking timid\nsoul in all the crowd. Can my poor feeble hand find a cranny anywhere\nthrough which it may reach the robe? What am I, in all this great\nuniverse blazing with stars, and crowded with creatures who hang on\nHim, that I should be able to secure personal contact with Him? The\nmultitude--innumerable companies from every corner of space--press\nupon Him and throng Him, and I--out here on the verge of the crowd-how\ncan I get at Him?--how can my little thin cry live and be\ndistinguishable amid that mighty storm of praise that thunders round\nHis throne? We may silence all such hesitancies of faith, for He who\nknew the difference between the light touch of the hand that sought\nhealing, and the jostling of the curious crowd, bends on us the same\neye, a God's in its perfect knowledge, a man's in the dewy sympathy\nwhich shines in it. However imperfect may be our thoughts of His\nblessing, their incompleteness will not hinder our reception of His\ngift in the measure of our faith, and the very bestowment will teach\nus worthier conceptions of Him, and hearten us for bolder approaches\nto His grace. He still looks on trembling suppliants, though they may\nknow their own sickness much better than they understand Him, and\nstill His look draws us to His feet by its omniscience, pity, and\nassurance of help.\n\nThe other case is very different. Instead of the invalid woman, we see\na young man in the full flush of his strength, rich, needing no\nmaterial blessing. Pure in life, and righteous according to even a\nhigh standard of morality, he yet feels that he needs something.\nHaving real and strong desires after 'eternal life,' he comes to\nChrist to try whether this new Teacher could say anything that would\nhelp him to the assured inward peace and spontaneous goodness for\nwhich he longed, and had not found in all the round of punctilious\nobedience to unloved commandments. As he kneels there before Jesus, in\nhis eager haste, with sincere and high aspirations stamped on his\nyoung ingenuous face, Christ's eyes turn on him, and that wonderful\nword stands written, 'Jesus, beholding him, loved him.'\n\nHe reads him through and through, knowing all the imperfection of his\ndesires after goodness and eternal life, and yet loving him with more\nthan a brother's love. His sympathy does not blind Jesus to the\nlimitations and shallowness of the young man's aspirations, but His\nclear knowledge of these does not harden the gaze into indifference,\nnor check the springing tenderness in the Saviour's heart. And the\nMaster's words, though they might sound cold, and did embody a hard\nrequirement, are beautifully represented in the story as the\nexpression of that love. He cared for the youth too much to deceive\nhim with smooth things. The truest kindness was to put all his\neagerness to the test at once. If he accepted the conditions, the look\ntold him what a welcome awaited him. If he started aside from them, it\nwas best for him to find out that there were things which he loved\nmore than eternal life. So with a gracious invitation shining in His\nlook, Christ places the course of self-denial before him; and when he\nwent away sorrowful, he left behind One more sorrowful than himself.\nWe can reverently imagine with what a look Christ watched his\nretreating figure; and we may hope that, though he went away then, the\nmemory of that glance of love, and of those kind, faithful words,\nsooner or later drew him back to his Saviour.\n\nIs not all this too an everlasting revelation of our Lord's attitude?\nWe may be sure that He looks on many a heart--on many a young\nheart--glowing with noble wishes and half-understood longings, and\nthat His love reaches every one who, groping for the light, asks Him\nwhat to do to inherit eternal life. His great charity 'hopeth all\nthings,' and does not turn away from longings because they are too\nweak to lift the soul above all the weights of sense and the world.\nRather He would deepen them and strengthen them, and His eternal\nrequirements addressed to feeble wills are not meant to 'quench the\nsmoking flax,' but to kindle it to decisive consecration and\nself-surrender. The loving look interprets the severe words. If once\nwe meet it full, and our hearts yield to the heart that is seen in it,\nthe cords that bind us snap, and it is no more hard to 'count all\nthings but loss,' and to give up ourselves, that we may follow Him.\nThe sad and feeble and weary who may be half despairingly seeking for\nalleviation of outward ills, and the young and strong and ardent whose\nsouls are fed with high desires, have but little comprehension of one\nanother, but Christ knows them both, and loves them both, and would\ndraw them both to Himself.\n\nII. The Lord's looks of love and warning to those who have found Him.\n\nThere are three instances of this class. The first is when He looked\nround on His disciples and said, 'Behold My mother and My brethren!'\n(iii. 34). Perhaps no moment in all Christ's life had more of\nhumiliation in it than that. There could be no deeper degradation than\nthat His own family should believe Him insane. Not His brethren only,\nbut His mother herself seems to have been shaken from her attitude of\nmeek obedience so wonderfully expressed in her two recorded sayings,\n'Be it unto me according to Thy word,' and 'Whatsoever He saith unto\nyou, do it.' She too appears to be in the shameful conspiracy, and to\nhave consented that her name should be used as a lure in the wily\nmessage meant to separate Him from His friends, that He might be\nseized and carried off as a madman. What depth of tenderness was in\nthat slow circuit of His gaze upon the humble loving followers grouped\nround Him! It spoke the fullest trustfulness of them, and His rest in\ntheir sympathy, partial though it was. It went before His speech, like\nthe flash before the report, and looked what in a moment He said,\n'Behold My mother and My brethren!' It owned spiritual affinities as\nmore real than family bonds, and proved that He required no more of us\nthan He was willing to do Himself when He bid us 'forsake father and\nmother, and wife and children' for Him. We follow Him when we tread\nthat road, hard though it be. In Him every mother may behold her son,\nin Him we may find more than the reality of every sweet family\nrelationship. That same love, which identified Him with those\nhalf-enlightened followers here, still binds Him to us, and He looks\ndown on us from amid the glory, and owns us for His true kindred.\n\nThat look of unutterable love is strangely contrasted with the next\ninstance. We read (viii. 32) that Peter 'took Him'--apart a little\nway, I suppose--'and began to rebuke Him.' He turns away from the rash\nApostle, will say no word to him alone, but summons the others by a\nglance, and then, having made sure that all were within hearing, He\nsolemnly rebukes Peter with the sharpest words that ever fell from His\nlips. That look calls them to listen, not that they may be witnesses\nof Peter's chastisement, but because the severe words concern them\nall. It bids them search themselves as they hear. They too may be\n'Satans.' They too may shrink from the cross, and 'mind the things\nthat be of men.'\n\nWe may take the remaining instance along with this. It occurs\nimmediately after the story of the young seeker, to which we have\nalready referred. Twice within five verses (x. 23-27) we read that He\n'looked on His disciples,' before He spoke the grave lessons and\nwarnings arising from the incident. A sad gaze that would be!--full of\nregret and touched with warning. We may well believe that it added\nweight to the lesson He would teach, that surrender of all things was\nneeded for discipleship. We see that it had been burned into the\nmemory of one of the little group, who told long years after how He\nhad looked upon them so solemnly, as seeming to read their hearts\nwhile He spoke. Not more searching was the light of the eyes which\nJohn in Patmos saw, 'as a flame of fire.' Still He looks on His\ndisciples, and sees our inward hankerings after the things of men. All\nour shrinkings from the cross and cleaving to the world are known to\nHim. He comes to each of us with that sevenfold proclamation, 'I know\nthy works,' and from His loving lips falls on our ears the warning,\nemphasised by that sad, earnest gaze, 'How hard is it for them that\nhave riches to enter into the Kingdom of God!' But, blessed be His\nname, the stooping love which claims us for His brethren shines in His\nregard none the less tenderly, though He reads and warns us with His\neye. So, we can venture to spread all our evil before Him, and ask\nthat He would look on it, knowing that, as the sun bleaches cloth laid\nin its beams, He will purge away the evil which He sees, if only we\nlet the light of His face shine full upon us.\n\nIII. The Lord's look of anger and pity on His opponents.\n\nThat instance occurs in the account of the healing of a man with a\nwithered arm, which took place in the synagogue of Capernaum (iii.\n1-5). In the vivid narrative, we can see the scribes and Pharisees,\nwho had already questioned Him with insolent airs of authority about\nHis breach of the Rabbinical Sabbatic rules, sitting in the synagogue,\nwith their gleaming eyes 'watching Him' with hostile purpose. They\nhope that He will heal on the Sabbath day. Possibly they had even\nbrought the powerless-handed man there, on the calculation that Christ\ncould not refrain from helping him when He saw his condition. They are\nready to traffic in human misery if only they can catch Him in a\nbreach of law. The fact of a miracle if nothing. Pity for the poor man\nis not in them. They have neither reverence for the power of the\nmiracle-worker, nor sympathy with His tenderness of heart. The only\nthing for which they have eyes is the breach of the complicated web of\nrestrictions which they had spun across the Sabbath day. What a\nstrange, awful power the pedantry of religious forms has of blinding\nthe vision and hardening the heart as to the substance and spirit of\nreligion! That Christ should heal neither made them glad nor\nbelieving, but that He should heal on the Sabbath day roused them to a\ndeadly hatred. So there they sit, on the stretch of expectation,\nsilently watching. He bids the man stand forth--a movement, and there\nthe cripple stands alone in the midst of the seated congregation. Then\ncomes the unanswerable question which cut so deep, and struck their\nconsciences so hard that they could answer nothing, only sit and scowl\nat Him with a murderous light gleaming in their eyes. He fronts them\nwith a steady gaze that travels over the whole group, and that showed\nto at least one who was present an unforgettable mingling of\ndispleasure and pity. 'He looked round about on them with anger, being\ngrieved for the hardness of their hearts.' In Christ's perfect nature,\nanger and pity could blend in wondrous union, like the crystal and\nfire in the abyss before the throne.\n\nThe soul that has not the capacity for anger at evil wants something\nof its due perfection, and goes 'halting' like Jacob after Peniel. In\nChrist's complete humanity, it could not but be present, but in pure\nand righteous form. His anger was no disorder of passion, or 'brief\nmadness' that discomposed the even motion of His spirit, nor was there\nin it any desire for the hurt of its objects, but, on the contrary, it\nlay side by side with the sorrow of pity, which was intertwined with\nit like a golden thread. Both these two emotions are fitting to a pure\nmanhood in the presence of evil. They heighten each other. The\nperfection of righteous anger is to be tempered by sympathy. The\nperfection of righteous pity for the evildoer is to be saved from\nimmoral condoning of evil as if it were only calamity, by an infusion\nof some displeasure. We have to learn the lesson and take this look of\nChrist's as our pattern in our dealings with evildoers. Perhaps our\nday needs more especially to remember that a righteous severity and\nrecoil of the whole nature from sin is part of a perfect Christian\ncharacter. We are so accustomed to pity transgressors, and to hear\nsins spoken of as if they were misfortunes mainly due to environment,\nor to inherited tendencies, that we are apt to forget the other truth,\nthat they are the voluntary acts of a man who could have refrained if\nhe had wished, and whose not having wished is worthy of blame. But we\nneed to aim at just such a union of feeling as was revealed in that\ngaze of Christ's, and neither to let our wrath dry up our pity nor our\npity put out the pure flame of our indignation at evil.\n\nThat look comes to us too with a message, when we are most conscious\nof the evil in our own hearts. Every man who has caught even a glimpse\nof Christ's great love, and has learned something of himself in the\nlight thereof, must feel that wrath at evil sits ill on so sinful a\njudge as he feels himself to be. How can I fling stones at any poor\ncreature when I am so full of sin myself? And how does that Lord look\nat me and all my wanderings from Him, my hardness of heart, my\nPharisaism and deadness to His spiritual power and beauty? Can there\nbe anything but displeasure in Him? The answer is not far to seek,\nbut, familiar though it be, it often surprises a man anew with its\nsweetness, and meets recurring consciousness of unworthiness with a\nbright smile that scatters fears. In our deepest abasement we may take\ncourage anew when we think of that wondrous blending of anger shot\nwith pity.\n\nIV. The look of the Lord on the profaned Temple.\n\nOn the day of Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem, apparently the\nSunday before His crucifixion, we find (xi. 11) that He went direct to\nthe Temple, and 'looked round about on all things.' The King has come\nto His palace, the Lord has 'suddenly come to His Temple.' How solemn\nthat careful, all-comprehending scrutiny of all that He found\nthere--the bustle of the crowds come up for the Passover, the\ntrafficking and the fraud, the heartless worship! He seems to have\ngazed upon all, that evening in silence, and, as the shades of night\nbegan to fall, He went back to Bethany with the Twelve. To-morrow will\nbe time enough for the 'whip of small cords,' for to-day enough to\nhave come as Lord to the temple, and with intent, all-comprehending\ngaze to have traversed its courts. Apparently He passed through the\ncrowds there unnoticed, and beheld all, while Himself unrecognised.\n\nIs not that silent, unobserved Presence, with His keen searching eye\nthat lights on all, a solemn parable of a perpetual truth? He 'walks\namidst the seven golden candlesticks' to-day, as in the temple of\nJerusalem, and in the vision of Patmos. His eyes like a flame of fire\nregard and scrutinise us too. 'I know thy works' is still upon His\nlips. Silent and by many unseen, that calm, clear-eyed, loving but\njudging Christ walks amongst His churches to-day. Alas! what does He\nsee there? If He came in visible form into any congregation in England\nto-day, would He not find merchandise in the sanctuary, formalism and\nunreality standing to minister, and pretence and hypocrisy bowing in\nworship? How much of all our service could live in the light of His\nfelt presence? And are we never going to stir ourselves up to a truer\ndevotion and a purer service by remembering that He is here as really\nas He was in the Temple of old? Our drowsy prayers, and all our\nconventional repetitions of devout aspirations, not felt at the\nmoment, but inherited from our fathers, our confessions which have no\npenitence, our praises without gratitude, our vows which we never mean\nto keep, and our creeds which in no operative fashion we believe--all\nthe hollowness of profession with no reality below it, like a great\ncooled bubble on a lava stream, would crash in and go to powder if\nonce we really believed what we so glibly say--that Jesus Christ was\nlooking at us. He keeps silence to-day, but as surely as He knows us\nnow, so surely will He come to-morrow with a whip of small cords and\npurge His Temple from hypocrisy and unreality, from traffic and\nthieves. All the churches need the sifting. Christ has done and\nsuffered too much for the world, to let the power of His gospel be\nneutralised by the sins of His professing followers, and Christ loves\nthe imperfect friends that cleave to Him, though their service be\noften stained, and their consecration always incomplete, too well to\nsuffer sin upon them. Therefore He will come to purify His Temple.\nWell for us, if we thankfully yield ourselves to His merciful\nchastisements, howsoever they may fall upon us, and believe that in\nthem all He looks on us with love, and wishes only to separate us from\nthat which separates us from Him!\n\nOn us all that eye rests with all these emotions fused and blended in\none gaze of love that passeth knowledge--a look of love and welcome\nwhensoever we seek Him, either to help us in outward or inward\nblessings; a look of love and warning to us, owning us also for His\nbrethren, and cautioning us lest we stray from His side; a look of\nlove and displeasure at any sin that blinds us to His gracious beauty;\na look of love and observance of our poor worship and spotted\nsacrifices.\n\nLet us lay ourselves full in the sunshine of His gaze, and take for\nours the old prayer, 'Search me, O Christ, and know my heart!' It is\nheaven on earth to feel His eye resting upon us, and know that it is\nlove. It will be the heaven of heaven to see Him 'face to face,' and\n'to know even as we are known.'\n\n\n\nTHE MASTER REJECTED: THE SERVANTS SENT FORTH\n\n\n'And He went out from thence, and came into His own country; and His\ndisciples follow Him. 2. And when the Sabbath day was come, He began\nto teach in the synagogue: and many hearing Him were astonished,\nsaying, From whence hath this man these things? and what wisdom is\nthis which is given unto Him, that even such mighty works are wrought\nby His hands? 3. Is not this the carpenter, the Son of Mary, the\nBrother of James, and Joses, and of Juda, and Simon! and are not His\nsisters here with us? And they were offended at Him. 4. But Jesus said\nunto them, A prophet is not without honour, but in his own country,\nand among his own kin, and in his own house. 6. And He could there do\nno mighty work, save that He laid His hands upon a few sick folk, and\nhealed them. 6. And He marvelled because of their unbelief. And He\nwent round about the villages, teaching. 7. And He called unto Him the\ntwelve, and began to send them forth by two and two; and gave them\npower over unclean spirits; 8. And commanded them that they should\ntake nothing for their journey, save a staff only; no scrip, no bread,\nno money in their purse: 9. But be shod with sandals; and not put on\ntwo coats. 10. And He said unto them, In what place soever ye enter\ninto an house, there abide till ye depart from that place. 11. And\nwhosoever shall not receive you, nor hear you, when ye depart thence,\nshake off the dust under your feet for a testimony against them.\nVerily I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for Sodom and\nGomorrha in the day of judgment, than for that city. 12. And they went\nout, and preached that men should repent. 13. And they cast out many\ndevils, and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed\nthem.'--Mark vi. 1-13.\n\nAn easy day's journey would carry Jesus and His followers from\nCapernaum, on the lake-side, to Nazareth, among the hills. What took\nour Lord back there? When last He taught in the synagogue of Nazareth,\nHis life had been in danger; and now He thrusts Himself into the\nwolf's den. Why? Mark seems to wish us to observe the connection\nbetween this visit and the great group of miracles which he has just\nrecorded; and possibly the link may be our Lord's hope that the report\nof these might have preceded Him and prepared His way. In His patient\nlong-suffering He will give His fellow-villagers another chance; and\nHis heart yearns for 'His own country,' and 'His own kin,' and 'His\nown house,' of which He speaks so pathetically in the context.\n\nI. We have here unbelief born of familiarity, and its effects on\nChrist (verses 1-6). Observe the characteristic avoidance of display,\nand the regard for existing means of worship, shown in His waiting\ntill the Sabbath, and then resorting to the synagogue. He and His\nhearers would both remember His last appearance in it; and He and they\nwould both remember many a time before that, when, as a youth, He had\nsat there. The rage which had exploded on His first sermon has given\nplace to calmer, but not less bitter, opposition. Mark paints the\nscene, and represents the hearers as discussing Jesus while He spoke.\nThe decorous silence of the synagogue was broken by a hubbub of mutual\nquestions. 'Many' spoke at once, and all had the same thing to say.\nThe state of mind revealed is curious. They own Christ's wisdom in His\nteaching, and the reality of His miracles, of which they had evidently\nheard; but the fact that He was one of themselves made them angry that\nHe should have such gifts, and suspicious of where He had got them.\nThey seem to have had the same opinion as Nathanael--that no 'good\nthing' could 'come out of Nazareth.' Their old companion could not be\na prophet; that was certain. But He had wisdom and miraculous power;\nthat was as certain. Where had they come from? There was only one\nother source; and so, with many headshakings, they were preparing to\nbelieve that the Jesus whom they had all known, living His quiet life\nof labour among them, was in league with the devil, rather than\nbelieve that He was a messenger from God.\n\nWe note in their questions, first, the glimpse of our Lord's early\nlife. They bring before us the quiet, undistinguished home and the\nlong years of monotonous labour. We owe to Mark alone the notice that\nJesus actually wrought at Joseph's handicraft. Apparently the latter\nwas dead, and, if so, Jesus would be the head of the house, and\nprobably the 'breadwinner.' One of the fathers preserves the tradition\nthat He 'made plows and yokes, by which He taught the symbols of\nrighteousness and an active life.' That good father seems to think it\nneedful to find symbolical meanings, in order to save Christ's\ndignity; but the prose fact that He toiled at the carpenter's bench,\nand handled hammer and saw, needs nothing to heighten its value as a\nsign of His true participation in man's lot, and as the hallowing of\nmanual toil. How many weary arms have grasped their tools with new\nvigour and contentment when they thought of Him as their Pattern in\ntheir narrow toils!\n\nThe Nazarenes' difficulty was but one case of a universal tendency.\nNobody finds it easy to believe that some village child, who has grown\nup beside him, and whose undistinguished outside life he knows, has\nturned out a genius or a great man. The last people to recognise a\nprophet are always his kindred and his countrymen. 'Far-away birds\nhave fine feathers.' Men resent it as a kind of slight on themselves\nthat the other, who was one of them but yesterday, should be so far\nabove them to-day. They are mostly too blind to look below the\nsurface, and they conclude that, because they saw so much of the\nexternal life, they knew the man that lived it. The elders of Nazareth\nhad seen Jesus grow up, and to them He would be 'the carpenter's son'\nstill. The more important people had known the humbleness of His home,\nand could not adjust themselves to look up to Him, instead of down.\nHis equals in age would find their boyish remembrances too strong for\naccepting Him as a prophet. All of them did just what the most of us\nwould have done, when they took it for certain that the Man whom they\nhad known so well, as they fancied, could not be a prophet, to say\nnothing of the Messiah so long looked for. It is easy to blame them;\nbut it is better to learn the warning in their words, and to take care\nthat we are not blind to some true messenger of God just because we\nhave been blessed with close companionship with him. Many a household\nhas had to wait for death to take away the prophet before they discern\nhim. Some of us entertain 'angels unawares,' and have bitterly to\nfeel, when too late, that our eyes were holden that we should not know\nthem.\n\nThese questions bring out strongly what we too often forget in\nestimating Christ's contemporaries--namely, that His presence among\nthem, in the simplicity of His human life, was a positive hindrance to\ntheir seeing His true character. We sometimes wish that we had seen\nHim, and heard His voice. We should have found it more difficult to\nbelieve in Him if we had. 'His flesh' was a 'veil' in other sense than\nthe Epistle to the Hebrews means; for, by reason of men's difficulty\nin piercing beneath it, it hid from many what it was meant and fitted\nto reveal. Only eyes purged beheld the glory of 'the Word' become\nflesh when it 'dwelt among us'--and even they saw Him more clearly\nwhen they saw Him no more. Let us not be too hard on these simple\nNazarenes, but recognise our kith and kin.\n\nThe facts on which the Nazarenes grounded their unbelief are really\nirrefragable proof of Christ's divinity. Whence had this man His\nwisdom and mighty works? Born in that humble home, reared in that\nsecluded village, shut out from the world's culture, buried, as it\nwere, among an exclusive and abhorred people, how came He to tower\nabove all teachers, and to sway the world? 'With whom took He counsel?\nand who instructed Him, and taught Him?' The character and work of\nChrist, compared with the circumstances of His origin and environment,\nare an insoluble riddle, except on one supposition--that He was the\nword and power of God.\n\nThe effects of this unbelief on our Lord were twofold. It limited His\npower. Matthew says that 'He did not many mighty works.' Mark goes\ndeeper, and boldly days 'He could not.' It is mistaken jealousy for\nChrist's honour to seek to pare down the strong words. The atmosphere\nof chill unbelief froze the stream. The power was there, but it\nrequired for its exercise some measure of moral susceptibility. His\nmiraculous energy followed, in general, the same law as His higher\nexercise of saving grace does; that is to say, it could not force\nitself upon unwilling men. Christ 'cannot' save a man who does not\ntrust Him. He was hampered in the outflow of His healing power by\nunsympathetic disparagement and unbelief. Man can thwart God. Faith\nopens the door, and unbelief shuts it in His face. He 'would have\ngathered,' but they 'would not,' and therefore He 'could not.'\n\nThe second effect of unbelief on Him was that He 'marvelled.' He is\ntwice recorded to have wondered--once at a Gentile's faith, once at\nHis townsmen's unbelief. He wondered at the first because it showed so\nunusual a susceptibility; at the second, because it showed so\nunreasonable a blindness. All sin is a wonder to eyes that see into\nthe realities of things and read the end; for it is all utterly\nunreasonable (though it is, alas! not unaccountable) and suicidal. 'Be\nastonished, O ye heavens, at this.' Unbelief in Christ is, by Himself,\ndeclared to be the very climax of sin, and its most flagrant evidence\n(John xvi. 9); and of all the instances of unbelief which saddened His\nheart, none struck more chill than that of these Nazarenes. They had\nknown His pure youth; He might have reckoned on some touch of sympathy\nand predisposition to welcome Him. His wonder is the measure of His\npain as well as of their sin.\n\nNor need we wonder that He wondered; for He was true man, and all\nhuman emotions were His. To one who lives ever in the Father's bosom,\nwhat can seem so strange as that men should prefer homeless\nexposedness and dreary loneliness? To one whose eyes ever behold\nunseen realities, what so marvellous as men's blindness? To one who\nknew so assuredly His own mission and rich freightage of blessing, how\nstrange it must have been that He found so few to accept His gifts!\nJesus knew that bitter wonder which all men who have a truth to\nproclaim which the world has not learned, have to experience--the\namazement at finding it so hard to get any others to see what they\nsee. In His manhood, He shared the fate of all teachers, who have, in\ntheir turn, to marvel at men's unbelief.\n\nII. The new instrument which Christ fashions to cope with unbelief.\nWhat does Jesus do when thus 'wounded in the house of His friends'?\nGive way to despondency? No; but meekly betake Himself to yet obscurer\nfields of service, and send out the Twelve to prepare His way, as if\nHe thought that they might have success where He would fail. What a\nlesson for people who are always hankering after conspicuous\n'spheres,' and lamenting that their gifts are wasted in some obscure\ncorner, is that picture of Jesus, repulsed from Nazareth, patiently\nturning to the villages! The very summary account of the trial mission\nof the Twelve here given presents only the salient points of the\ncharge to them, and in its condensation makes these the more emphatic.\nNote the interesting statement that they were sent out two-and-two.\nThe other Evangelists do not tell us this, but their lists of the\nApostles are arranged in pairs. Mark's list is not so arranged, but he\nsupplies the reason for the arrangement, which he does not follow; and\nthe other Gospels, by their arrangement, confirm his statement, which\nthey do not give. Two-and-two is a wise rule for all Christian\nworkers. It checks individual peculiarities of self-will, helps to\nkeep off faults, wholesomely stimulates, strengthens faith by giving\nanother to hear it and to speak it, brings companionship, and admits\nof division of labour. One-and-one are more than twice one.\n\nThe first point is the gift of power. Unclean spirits are specified,\nbut the subsequent verses show that miracle-working power in its other\nforms was included. We may call that Christ's greatest miracle. That\nHe could, by His mere will, endow a dozen men with such power, is\nmore, if degree come into view at all, than that He Himself should\nexercise it. But there is a lesson in the fact for all ages--even\nthose in which miracles have ceased. Christ gives before He commands,\nand sends no man into the field without filling his basket with\nseed-corn. His gifts assimilate the receiver to Himself, and only in\nthe measure in which His servants possess power which is like His own,\nand drawn from Him, can they proclaim His coming, or prepare hearts\nfor it. The second step is their equipment. The special commands here\ngiven were repealed by Jesus when He gave His last commands. In their\nletter they apply only to that one journey, but in their spirit they\nare of universal and permanent obligation. The Twelve were to travel\nlight. They might carry a staff to help them along, and wear sandals\nto save their feet on rough roads; but that was to be all. Food,\nluggage, and money, the three requisites of a traveller, were to be\n'conspicuous by their absence.' That was repealed afterwards, and\ninstructions given of an opposite character, because, after His\nascension, the Church was to live more and more by ordinary means; but\nin this journey they were to learn to trust Him without means, that\nafterwards they might trust Him in the means. He showed them the\npurpose of these restrictions in the act of abrogating them. 'When I\nsent you forth without purse ... lacked ye anything?' But the spirit\nremains unabrogated, and the minimum of outward provision is likeliest\nto call out the maximum of faith. We are more in danger from having\ntoo much baggage than from having too little. And the one\nindispensable requirement is that, whatever the quantity, it should\nhinder neither our march nor our trust in Him who alone is wealth and\nfood.\n\nNext comes the disposition of the messengers. It is not to be\nself-indulgent. They are not to change quarters for the sake of\ngreater comfort. They have not gone out to make a pleasure tour, but\nto preach, and so are to stay where they are welcomed, and to make the\nbest of it. Delicate regard for kindly hospitality, if offered by ever\nso poor a house, and scrupulous abstinence from whatever might suggest\ninterested motives, must mark the true servant. That rule is not out\nof date. If ever a herald of Christ falls under suspicion of caring\nmore about life's comforts than about his work, good-bye to his\nusefulness! If ever he does so care, whether he be suspected of it or\nno, spiritual power will ebb from him.\n\nThe next step is the messengers' demeanour to the rejecters of their\nmessage. Shaking the dust off the sandals is an emblem of solemn\nrenunciation of participation, and perhaps of disclaimer of\nresponsibility. It meant certainly, 'We have no more to do with you,'\nand possibly, 'Your blood be on your own heads.' This journey of the\nTwelve was meant to be of short duration, and to cover much ground,\nand therefore no time was to be spent unnecessarily. Their message was\nbrief, and as well told quickly as slowly. The whole conditions of\nwork now are different. Sometimes, perhaps, a Christian is warranted\nin solemnly declaring to those who receive not his message, that he\nwill have no more to say to them. That may do more than all his other\nwords. But such cases are rare; and the rule that it is safest to\nfollow is rather that of love which despairs of none, and, though\noften repelled, returns with pleading, and, if it have told often in\nvain, now tells with tears, the story of the love that never abandons\nthe most obstinate.\n\nSuch were the prominent points of this first Christian mission. They\nwho carry Christ's banner in the world must be possessed of power, His\ngift, must be lightly weighted, must care less for comfort than for\nservice, must solemnly warn of the consequences of rejecting the\nmessage; and so they will not fail to cast out devils, and to heal\nmany that are sick.\n\n\n\nCHRIST THWARTED\n\n\n'And He could there do no mighty work, save that He laid His hands\nupon a few sick folk, and healed them. And He marvelled because of\ntheir unbelief.'--Mark vi. 5,6.\n\nIt is possible to live too near a man to see him. Familiarity with the\nsmall details blinds most people to the essential greatness of any\nlife. So these fellow-villagers of Jesus in Nazareth knew Him too well\nto know Him rightly as they talked Him over; they recognised His\nwisdom and His mighty works; but all the impression that these would\nhave made was neutralised by their acquaintance with His former life,\nand they said, 'Why, we have known Him ever since He was a boy. We\nused to take our ploughs and yokes to Him to mend in the carpenter's\nshop. His brothers and sisters are here with us. Where did _He_ get\nHis wisdom?' So _they_ said; and so it has been ever since. 'A prophet\nis not without honour, save in his own country.'\n\nSurrounded thus by unsympathetic carpers, Jesus Christ did not\nexercise His full miraculous power. Other Evangelists tell us of these\nlimitations, but Mark is alone in the strength of his expression. The\nothers say '_did_ no mighty works'; Mark says '_could_ do no mighty\nworks.' Startling as the expression is, it is not to be weakened down\nbecause it is startling, and if it does not fit in with your\nconceptions of Christ's nature, so much the worse for the conceptions.\nMatthew states the reason for this limitation more directly than Mark\ndoes, for he says, 'He did no mighty works because of their unbelief.'\nBut Mark suggests the reason clearly enough in his next clause, when\nhe says: 'He marvelled because of their unbelief.' There is another\nlimitation of Christ's nature, He wondered as at an astonishing and\nunexpected thing, We read that He 'marvelled' twice: once at great\nfaith, once at great unbelief. The centurion's faith was marvellous;\nthe Nazarenes' unbelief was as marvellous. The 'wild grapes' bore\nclusters more precious than the tended 'vines' in the 'vineyard.'\nFaith and unbelief do not depend upon opportunity, but upon the bent\nof the will and the sense of need.\n\nBut I have chosen these words now because they put in its strongest\nshape a truth of large importance, and of manifold applications--viz.,\nthat man's unbelief hampers and hinders Christ's power. Now let me\napply that principle in two or three directions.\n\nI. Let us look at this principle in connection with the case before us\nin the text.\n\nYou will find that, as a rule and in the general, our Lord's miracles\nrequire faith, either on the part of the persons helped, or on the\npart of those who interceded for them. But whilst that is the rule\nthere are distinct exceptions, as for instance, in the case of the\nfeeding of the thousands, and in the case of the raising of the\nwidow's son of Nain, as well as in other examples. And here we find\nthat, though the prevalent unbelief hindered the flow of our Lord's\nmiraculous power, it did not so hinder it as to stop some little\ntrickle of the stream. 'He laid His hands on a few sick folk, and\nhealed them.' The brook was shrunken as compared with the abundance of\nthe flood recorded in the previous chapter.\n\nNow, why was that? There is no such natural connection between faith\nand the working of a miracle as that the latter is only possible in\nconjunction with the former. And the exceptions show us that Jesus\nChrist was not so limited as that men's unbelief could wholly prevent\nthe flow of His love and His power. But still there was a restriction.\nAnd what sort of a 'could not' was it that thus hampered Him in His\nwork? We know far too little about the conditions of miracle-working\nto entitle us to dogmatise on such a matter, but I suppose that we may\nventure to say this, that the working of the miracles was 'impossible'\nin the absence of faith and the presence of its opposite, regard being\nhad to the purposes of the miracle and of Christ's whole work. It was\nnot congruous, it was not morally possible, that He should force His\nbenefits upon unwilling recipients.\n\nNow, I need not do more than just in a sentence call attention to the\nbearing of this fact upon the true notion of the purpose of Christ's\nmiraculous works. A superficial, and, as I think, very vulgar,\nestimate, says that Christ's miracles were chiefly designed to produce\nfaith in Him and in His mission. If that had been their purpose, the\nvery place for the most abundant exhibition of them would have been\nthe place where unbelief was most pronounced. The atmosphere of\nnon-receptiveness and non-sympathy would have been the very one that\nought to have evoked them most. Where the darkness was the deepest,\nthere should the torch have flared. Where the stupor was most\ncomplete, there should the rousing shock have been administered. But\nthe very opposite is the case. Where faith is present already, the\nmiracle comes. Where faith is absent, miracles fail. Therefore, though\na subsidiary purpose of our Lord's miracles was, no doubt, to evoke\nfaith in His mission, their chief purpose is not to be found in that\ndirection. It was a condescension to men's weakness and obstinacy when\nHe said, 'If ye believe not Me, believe the works.' But the works were\nsigns, symbols, manifestations on the lower material platform of what\nlie would be and do for men in the higher, and they were the outcome\nof His own loving heart and ever-flowing compassion, and only\nsecondarily were they taken, and have they ever been taken, when\nChristian faith has been robust and intelligent, as being evidences of\nHis Messiahship and Divinity.\n\nBut there is another consideration that I would like to suggest in\nreference to this limitation of our Lord's power, by reason of the\nprevalence of an atmosphere of unbelief, and that is that it is a\npathetic proof of His manhood's being influenced by all the emotions\nand circumstances that influence us. We all know how hearts expand in\nthe warm atmosphere of affection and sympathy, and shut themselves up\nlike tender flowerets when the cold east wind blows. And just as a\ngreat orator subtly feels the sympathy of his audience, and is buoyed\nup by it to higher flights, while in the presence of cold and\nindifferent and critical hearers his tongue stammers, and he falls\nbeneath himself, so we may reverently say Jesus Christ _could_ not put\nforth His mightiest and most abundant miraculous powers when the cold\nwind of unbelieving criticism blew in His face.\n\nIf that is true, what a glimpse it gives us of the conditions of His\nearthly life, and how wonderful it makes that love which, though it\nwas hampered, was never stifled by the presence of scorn and malice\nand of hatred. He is our Brother, bone of our bone and flesh of our\nflesh; and even when the divinity within was in possession of the\npower of working the miracle, the humanity in which it dwelt felt the\npresence of the cold frost and closed its petals. 'He could do no\nmighty works,' and it was 'because of their unbelief.'\n\nII. But now, secondly, let us apply this principle in regard to\nChrist's working on ourselves.\n\nI have said that there was no such natural connection between faith\nand miracle as that miracle was absolutely impossible in the absence\nof faith. But when we lift the thought into the higher region of our\nreligious and spiritual life, we do come across an absolute\nimpossibility. There, in regard to all that appertains to the inward\nlife of a soul, Christ _can_ do no mighty works, in the absence of our\nfaith. By faith, I mean, of course, not the mere intellectual\nreception of the Christian narratives or of the Christian doctrines as\ntrue, but I mean what the Bible means by it always, a process\nsubsequent to that intellectual reception--viz., the motion of the\nwill and of the heart towards Christ. Faith is belief, but belief is\nnot faith. Faith is belief _plus_ trust. And it is that which is the\ncondition of all Christ's gifts being received by any of us.\n\nNow, a great many people seem to think that what Jesus Christ brings\nto the world, and offers to each of us, is simply the escape from the\npenal consequences of our past transgressions. If you conceive\nsalvation to be nothing else than shutting the doors of an outward\nhell, and opening the doors of an outward Heaven, I can quite\nunderstand why you should boggle at the thought that faith is a\ncondition of these. For if salvation is such a material, external, and\nforensic matter as that, then I do not see why God should not have\ngiven it to everybody, without any conditions at all. But if you will\nunderstand rightly what Christ's gifts are, you will see that they\ncannot be bestowed upon men irrespective of the condition of their\nwills, desires, and hearts.\n\nFor what is salvation? What are the blessings that Jesus Christ\nbestows? A new life, a new love, new desires, a new direction of the\nwhole being, a new spirit within us. These are the gifts; and how can\nthese be given to a man if he has not trust in the Giver? Salvation is\nat bottom that a man's will shall be harmonised with the will of God.\nBut if a man has not faith, his will is discordant with the will of\nGod, and how can it be harmonised and discordant at the same time?\nWhat are the powers by which Christ works upon men's hearts? His\ntruth, His love, His Spirit. How can a truth operate if it is not\nbelieved? How can love bless and cherish if it is not trusted? How can\nthe Spirit hallow and cleanse if it is not yielded to? The condition\nis inherent in the nature of God the Giver, of man the receiver, and\nof the gifts bestowed.\n\nAnd so we understand the metaphors that put that inevitable connection\nin various forms. Faith is 'a door.' How can you enter if the door be\nfast closed? He knocks; if any man opens He comes in. If a man does\nnot open,\n\n  'He can but listen at the gate,\n  And hear the household jar within.'\n\nFaith is the connection between the fountain and the reservoir. If\nthere be no such connection, how can the reservoir be filled? Faith is\nthe hand with stretched-out empty palms, and widespread fingers for\nthe reception of the gifts. How can the gifts be put into it if it\nhangs listless by the side, or in obstinately closed and pushed behind\nthe back? He 'can do no mighty works' on an unbelieving soul.\n\nNow, brethren, let me insist, in one sentence, on this solemn truth;\nGod would save every man if He could, faith or no faith. But the\ncondition which brings faith into connection with salvation as its\nnecessary prerequisite is no arbitrary condition. The love of God\ncannot alter it. In the nature of things it must be so. 'He that\nbelieveth shall be saved; he that believeth not shall be condemned.'\nThat is no result of an artificial scheme, but of the necessities of\nthe case.\n\nAgain, let me remind you that the measure of our faith is the measure\nof our possession of these gifts. Our Lord more than once put the\nwhole doctrine of this matter, in regard, however, to the lower plane\nof miracle, when He said, 'According to your faith be it unto you,'\n'Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it.' We have an inheritance like\nthat of men who get a piece of land in some mining district: so much\nas we peg out and claim is ours, and no more.\n\nLet me narrate a parable of my own making. There was once a king who\ntold all his people that on a given day the fountain in the\nmarket-place in the centre of the city would flow with wine and other\nprecious liquors, and that every man was free to bring his vessel and\ncarry away as much as he would. The man that brought a tiny wineglass\ngot a glassful; the man that brought a gallon pitcher got that full.\nThe measure of your desires is the measure of your possessions of\nChrist's power. Our faith determines the amount of His cleansing,\nhealing, vivifying energy which will reside in us. The width of the\nbore of the water-pipe that is laid down settles the amount of water\nthat will come into your cistern. The water may be high outside the\nlock. If the lock-gate be kept fast closed, the height of the water\noutside produces no raising of the low level of that within, If you\nopen a chink of the gate a trickle will pass through, and if you fling\nthe gates wide the levels will be the same on both sides. The only\nlimit of our possession of God is our faith and desire. The true limit\nis His own boundlessness. It is possible that a man may be 'filled\nwith all the fulness of God; but the real working limit for each of us\nis our own faith. So, brethren, endless progress is possible for us,\non condition of continual trust.\n\nIII. Lastly, let us apply this principle in regard to Christ's working\nthrough His people.\n\nJesus Christ cannot work mightily through a feebly believing Church.\nAnd here is the reason why Christianity has taken so long to do so\nlittle in this world of ours; and why nineteen centuries after the\nCross and Pentecost there remaineth yet so much land to be possessed.\n'Ye are not straitened in Me, ye are straitened in your own selves.'\nWe hinder Christ from doing His work through us by reason of our own\nunbelief. The men that have done most for the Lord Jesus, and for\ntheir fellows in this world, have been of all sorts, of all\nconditions, of all grades of intellectual ability and acquirement;\nsome of them scholars, some of them tinkers, some of them\nphilosophers, some of them next door to fools. They have belonged to\ndifferent communions and have held different ecclesiastical and\ntheological dogmas, and sometimes, alas! they have not been able to\ndiscern each other's Christlike lineaments. But there is one thing in\nwhich they have all been alike, and that is that they have been men of\nfaith, intense, operative, perpetual. And that is why they have\nsucceeded. If we were what we might be, 'full of faith.' we should, as\nthe Acts of the Apostles teaches us, by its collocation in the\ndescription of one of its characters, be 'full of the Holy Spirit and\nof power.'\n\nBrethren, you hear a great deal to-day about new ways of Christian\nworking, about the necessity of adapting the forms of setting forth\nChrist's truth to the spirit of the age, and new ideas. Adopt new\nmethods if you like; methods are not sacred. Fashion new forms of\npresenting Christian truths if you please; our forms are only forms.\nBut you may alter your methods and you may modify your dogmas as you\nlike, and you will do nothing to move the world unless the Church is\nagain baptized with the Divine Spirit, which will only be the case if\nthe Church again puts forth a far mightier faith than it exercises\nto-day. If only we will trust Jesus Christ absolutely, and live near\nHim by our faith, His power will flow into us, and of us, too, it will\nbe said, 'through faith they wrought righteousness ... subdued\nkingdoms ... waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of\nthe aliens.' But if the low level of average Christian faith in all\nthe churches is not elevated, then the attempts to conquer the world\nby half-believing Christians will meet with the old fate, and the man\nin whom the evil spirit was will leap upon them and overcome them, and\nsay, 'Jesus I know, and Paul I know, but who are ye?' 'Why could we\nnot cast him out?' And He answered and said unto them, 'Because of\nyour unbelief.'\n\nBrethren, we may starve in the midst of plenty, if we lock our lips.\nWe can be like some obstinate black rock, washed over for ever by the\nAtlantic surges, and yet so close-grained that only the surface is\nmoistened, and, an inch within, it is dry. 'Neither life, nor death,\nnor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor\nthings to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, is able\nto separate you from the love and power of God which are in Christ\nJesus our Lord,' But you can separate yourselves, and you do separate\nyourselves, by your unbelief. The all-sufficiency of Christ's\nredemption, and the yearning of His love to bless each of us\nindividually, will be nothing to us if we lift up between Him and us\nthe black barrier of unbelief, and so dam back the stream that was\nmeant to give life to all the world and life to us. Christ infinitely\ndesires to bless us, but He cannot unless we trust Him. I beseech you,\ndo not let this be the epitaph on your tombstone:--'Christ could there\ndo no mighty work because of _his_ unbelief.'\n\n\n\nHEROD--A STARTLED CONSCIENCE\n\n\n'But when Herod heard thereof, he said, It is John, whom I beheaded:\nhe is risen from the dead.'--Mark vi. 16.\n\nThe character of this Herod, surnamed Antipas, is a sufficiently\ncommon and a sufficiently despicable one. He was the very type of an\nEastern despot, exactly like some of those half-independent Rajahs,\nwhose dominions march with ours in India; capricious, crafty, as the\nepithet which Christ applied to him, 'That fox!' shows; cruel, as the\nstory of the murder of John the Baptist proves; sensuous and lustful;\nand withal weak of fibre and infirm of purpose. He, Herodias, and John\nthe Baptist make a triad singularly like the other triad in the Old\nTestament, of Ahab, Jezebel, and Elijah. In both cases we have the\nweak ruler, the beautiful she-devil at his side, inspiring him for all\nevil, and the stern prophet, the rebuker and the incarnate conscience\nfor them both.\n\nThe words that I have read are the terrified exclamation of this weak\nand wicked man when he was brought in contact with the light and\nbeauty of Jesus Christ. And if we think who it was that frightened\nhim, and ponder the words in which his fear expressed itself, we get,\nas it seems to me, some lessons worth the drawing.\n\nI. You have here the voice of a startled conscience.\n\nHerod killed John without much sense of doing wrong. He was sorry, no\ndoubt, for he had a kind of respect for the man, and he was reluctant\nto put him to death. But though there was reluctance, there was no\nhesitation. His fantastic sense of honour came in the way. In the one\nscale there was the life of a poor enthusiast who had amused him for a\nwhile, but of whom he had got tired. In the other scale there were his\nword, the pleasure of Herodias, and the applause of the half-drunken\nboon companions that were sitting with them at the table. So, of\ncourse, the prophet was slain, and the pale head brought in to that\nwild revel, and, except for the malignant gloating of the woman over\nher gratified revenge, the event, no doubt, very quickly passed from\nthe memories of all concerned.\n\nBut then there came stealing into the silken seclusion of the palace,\nwhere he was wallowing in his sensuality like a hog in the sty, the\ntidings of another peasant Teacher that had risen up among the people.\nChrist's name had been ringing through the land, and been sounded with\nblessings in poor men's huts long before it got within the gates of\nHerod's palace. That is the place where religious earnestness makes\nits mark last of all. But it finally ran thither also; and light\ngossip went round concerning this new sensation. 'Who is He? Who is\nHe?' Each man had his own theory about Him, but a sudden memory\nstarted up in the frivolous despot's soul, and it was with a trembling\nheart that he said to himself, 'I know! I know! It is John, whom I\nbeheaded! He is risen from the dead!' His conscience and his memory\nand his fears all awoke.\n\nNow, my friends, I pray you to lay that simple lesson to heart. We all\nof us do evil things with regard to which it is not hard for us to\nbribe or to silence our memories and our consciences. The hurry and\nbustle of daily life, the very weakness of our characters, the rush of\nsensuous delights, may make us blind and deaf to the voice of\nconscience; and we think that all chance of the evil deed rising again\nto harm us is past. But some trifle touches the hidden spring by mere\naccident; as in the old story of the man groping along a wall till his\nfinger happens to fall upon one inch of it, and immediately the\nconcealed door flies open, and there is the skeleton. So with us, some\nmerely fortuitous association may freshen faded memories and wake a\ndormant conscience. An apparently trivial circumstance, like some\nhooked pole pushed at random into the sea, may bring up by the locks\nsome pale and drowned memory long plunged in an ocean of oblivion.\nHere, in Herod's case, a report reaches him of a new Rabbi who bears\nbut a very faint resemblance to John, and that is enough to bring his\ncrime back in its naked atrocity.\n\nMy friends, we all have these hibernating serpents in our consciences,\nand nobody knows when the needful warmth may come that will wake them\nand make them lift their forked heads to sting. The whole landscape of\nmy past life lies there behind the mists of apparent forgetfulness,\nand any light air of suggestion may sweep away the clouds and show it\nall. What have you laid up in these memories of yours to start into\nlife some day: 'at the last biting like a serpent and stinging like an\nadder'? 'It is John! It is John, whom I beheaded!'\n\nTake this other thought, how, as the story shows us, when once at the\nbidding of memory conscience begins to work, all illusions as to the\nnature of my action and as to my share in it are swept away.\n\nWhen the evil deed was done, Herod scarcely felt as if he did it.\nThere was his plighted troth, there was Herodias's pressure, there was\nthe excitement of the moment. He seemed forced to do it, and scarcely\nresponsible for doing it. And no doubt, if he ever thought about it\nafterwards, he shuffled off a large percentage of the responsibility\nof the guilt upon the shoulders of the others. But when,\n\n  'In the silent sessions of things past,'\n\nthe image and remembrance of the deed come up to him, all the helpers\nand tempters have disappeared, and 'It is John, whom _I_ beheaded!'\n(There is emphasis in the Greek upon the 'I.') 'Yes, it was _I_.\nHerodias tempted me; Herodias' daughter titillated my lust; I fancied\nthat my oath bound me; I could not help doing what would please those\nwho sat at the table--I said all that _before_ I did it. But now, when\nit is done, they have all disappeared, every one of them to his\nquarter; and I and the ugly thing are left together alone. It was I\nthat did it, and nobody besides.'\n\nThe blackness of the crime, too, presents itself to the startled\nconscience as it did not in the doing. There are many euphemisms and\nsoft words in which, as in cotton-wool, we wrap our evil deeds and so\ndeceive ourselves as to their hardness and their edge; but when\nconscience gets hold of them, and they pass out of the realm of fact\ninto the mystical region of remembrance, all the wrappings, and all\nthe apologies, and all the soft phrases drop away; and the ugliest,\nbriefest, plainest word is the one by which my conscience describes my\nown evil. '_I_ beheaded him! _I_, and none else, was the murderer.'\nOh! dear brethren, do you see to it that what you store up in these\ncaves and treasure-cellars of memory which we all carry with us, are\ndeeds that will bear being brought out again and looked at in the pure\nwhite light of conscience, and which you will neither be ashamed nor\nafraid to lay your hand upon and say: 'It is mine; _I_ planted and\nsowed and worked it, and I am ready to reap the fruit.' 'If thou be\nwise thou shalt be wise for thyself, if thou scornest thou alone shalt\nbear it.' Take care of the storehouses of memory and of conscience,\nand mind what kind of things you lay up there.\n\nII. Now, once more, I take these words as setting before us an example\nof a conscience awakened to the unseen world.\n\nMany commentators tell us that this Herod was a Sadducee; that is to\nsay that theologically and theoretically he had given up the belief in\na future state and in spiritual existence. I do not know that that can\nbe sustained, but much more probably he was only a Sadducee in the way\nin which a great many of us are Sadducees: he never thought about\nthese things, he did not think about them enough to know whether he\nbelieved in them or not. He was a practical, if not a theoretical\nSadducee; that is to say, this present was his world, and as for the\nfuture, it did not come much into his mind. But now, notice that when\nconscience begins to stir, it at once sends his thoughts into that\nunseen world beyond.\n\nThere is a very close connection, as all history proves, between\ntheoretical disbelief in a future life and in spiritual existence, and\nsuperstition. So strong is the bond which unites men with the unseen\nworld, that if they do not link themselves with that world in the\nlegitimate and true fashion, it is almost certain to avenge itself\nupon them by leading them to all manner of low and abject\nsuperstitions. Spiritualism is the disease of a generation that\ndisbelieves in another life. The French Revolution, with its\ninfidelities, was also the age of quacks and impostors such as\nCagliostro and the like. The time when Christ lived presented\nprecisely the same phenomena. If Herod was a Sadducee, Herod's\nSadduceeism, like frost upon the window-panes, was such a thin layer\nshutting out the invisible world, that the least warmth of conscience\nmelted it, and the clear daylight glared in upon him. And I am afraid\nthat there are a great many of us who may be half-inclined to reject\nthe belief in another life, who would find precisely the same thing\nhappening to us.\n\nBut be that as it may, it seems to me that whenever a man comes to\nthink very seriously about his conduct as being wrong in the sight of\nGod, there at once starts up before him the thought of a future life\nand a judgment-bar. And I want to know why and how it is that the\nvigorous operation of conscience is always accompanied with a 'fearful\nlooking for of judgment and fiery indignation.' I think it is worth\nyour while to reflect upon the fact, and to try and ascertain for\nyourselves the reason of it, that whenever a man's conscience begins\nto tell him of his wrong, its message is not only of transgressions\nbut of judgment, and that beyond the grave.\n\nAnd, moreover, notice here how the startled conscience, when it\nbecomes aware of an unseen world beyond the grave, cannot but think\nthat out of that world there will come evil for it. These words of my\ntext are obviously the words of a frightened man. It was terror that\nmade Herod say: 'It is John, whom I beheaded. He is risen from the\ndead!' Who was it that frightened Herod? It was He who came from the\nbosom of the Father, with His hands full of blessings and His heart\nfull of love: who came to quiet all fears, and to cleanse all\nconsciences, and to satisfy all men's souls with His own sweet love\nand His perfect righteousness. And it was this genial and gracious and\ndivine form, with all its actualities of gentleness and its\npossibilities of grace, which the evil conscience of the terrified\ntetrarch converted into a messenger of judgment come from the tomb to\nrebuke and to smite him for his evils.\n\nThat is to say, men may always make that future life and their\nrelation to it what they will. Either the heavens may pour down their\ndewy influences of benediction and fruitfulness upon them, or may pour\ndown fire and brimstone upon their spirits. Men have the choice which\nit shall be. The evil conscience drapes the future in darkness, and is\nright in doing it. The evil conscience forebodes chastisement,\njudgment, condemnation coming to it from out of the unseen world, and,\nwith limitations, it is right in doing it. You can make Christ Himself\nthe Messenger of condemnation and of death to you. My dear friends, do\nyou choose whether, fronting eternity with an unforgiven burden of sin\nupon your shoulders and a conscience unsprinkled by the blood of Jesus\nChrist, you make of it one great fear; or whether you make it what it\nreally is, a lustrous hope, a perfect joy. Is the Messenger that comes\nout of the unseen to come to you as a Judge of your buried evils\nstarted into life, or is He to come to you as the Christ that bears in\nHis hand the price of your redemption, and with His blood 'sprinkles\nyour conscience from dead works' and from all its terrors?\n\nIII. And now, lastly, I see in this saying an illustration of a\nconscience which, partially stirred, soon went finally to sleep again.\n\nStrangely enough, if we pursue the story, this very terror and\nclear-eyed perception of the nature of his action led the frivolous\nking to nothing more than a curious wish to see this new Teacher. It\nwas not gratified; and thus by degrees he came to hate Him and to wish\nto kill Him. And then, finally, on the eve of the Crucifixion Jesus\nwas brought into his presence, and Herod was glad that his curiosity\nwas satisfied at last. His conscience lay perfectly still. There was\nno trace of the old convictions or of the old tremor. He 'questioned\nJesus many things, and Christ answered him nothing,' because He knew\nit was of no use to speak to him. So 'Herod and his men of war mocked\nHim and set Him at nought'; and sent Him back to Pilate; and he let\nhis last chance of salvation go, and never knew what he had done.\n\nNow, _there_ is a lesson for us all. Do not tamper with partially\nawakened consciences; do not rest satisfied till they are quieted in\nthe legitimate way. There was a man who trembled when he heard Paul\nremonstrating with him about 'righteousness and temperance'--both of\nwhich the unjust judge had set at naught--'and judgment to come' And\nhe 'sent for him often and communed with him gladly,' but we never\nhear that Felix trembled any more. It is possible for you so to lull\nyourselves into indifference, and, as it were, so to waterproof your\nconsciences that appeals, threatenings, pleadings, mercies, the words\nof men, the Gospel of God, and the beseechings of Christ Himself may\nall run off them and leave them dry and hard.\n\nOne very potent means of rendering consciences insensible is to\nneglect their voice. The convictions which you have not followed out,\nlike the ruins of a bastion shattered by shell, protect your remaining\nfortifications against the impact of God's truth. I believe that there\nis no man, woman, or child listening to me at this moment but has had,\nsome time or other in the course of his or her life, convictions which\nonly needed to be followed out, gleams of guidance which only required\nto be faithfully pursued, to bring him or her into loving fellowship\nwith, and true faith in, Jesus Christ. But some of you have neglected\nthem; some of you have choked them with cares and studies and\noccupations of different kinds; and you are driving on to this\nresult,--I do not know that it is ever reached in this life, but a man\nmay come indefinitely near it,--that you shall stand, like Herod, face\nto face with Jesus Christ and feel nothing, and that all His love and\ngrace shall be offered and not excite the faintest stirring in your\nhearts of a desire to accept it.\n\nOh! my friend, we have all of us evils enough in these charnel-houses\nof our memory to make us dread the awakening of conscience, to make us\nlook with fear and apprehension beyond the veil to a judgment-seat.\nAnd, blessed be God! we have all of us had, and some of us have now,\ndrawings to which we need but to yield ourselves in order to find that\nHe who comes from the heavens is no 'John whom we beheaded,' risen for\njudgment, but a mightier than he, that Son of God who came 'not to\ncondemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.'\n\n\n\nTHE MARTYRDOM OF JOHN\n\n\n'For Herod himself had sent forth and laid hold upon John, and bound\nhim in prison for Herodias' sake, his brother Philip's wife: for he\nhad married her. 18. For John had said unto Herod, It is not lawful\nfor thee to have thy brother's wife. 19. Therefore Herodias had a\nquarrel against him, and would have killed him; but she could not: 20.\nFor Herod feared John, knowing that he was a just man and an holy, and\nobserved him; and when he heard him, he did many things, and heard him\ngladly. 21. And when a convenient day was come, that Herod on his\nbirthday made a supper to his lords, high captains, and chief estates\nof Galilee; 22. And when the daughter of the said Herodias came in,\nand danced, and pleased Herod and them that sat with him, the king\nsaid unto the damsel, Ask of me whatsoever thou wilt, and I will give\nit thee. 23. And he sware unto her, Whatsoever thou shalt ask of me, I\nwill give it thee, unto the half of my kingdom. 24. And she went\nforth, and said unto her mother, What shall I ask? And she said, The\nhead of John the Baptist. 25. And she came in straightway with haste\nunto the king, and asked, saying, I will that thou give me by and by\nin a charger the head of John the Baptist. 26. And the king was\nexceeding sorry; yet for his oath's sake, and for their sakes which\nsat with him, he would not reject her. 27. And immediately the king\nsent an executioner, and commanded his head to be brought: and he went\nand beheaded him in the prison, 28. And brought his head in a charger,\nand gave it to the damsel: and the damsel gave it to her\nmother.'--Mark vi. 17-28.\n\nThis Herod was a son of the grim old tiger who slew the infants of\nBethlehem. He was a true cub of a bad litter, with his father's\nferocity, but without his force. He was sensual, cruel, cunning, and\ninfirm of purpose. Rome allowed him to play at being a king, but kept\nhim well in hand. No doubt his anomalous position as a subject prince\nhelped to make him the bad man he was. Herodias, the Jezebel to this\nAhab, was his brother's wife, and niece to both her husband and Herod.\nElijah was not far off; John's daring outspokenness, of course, made\nthe indignant woman his implacable enemy.\n\nI. This story gives an example of the waking of conscience. When\nChrist's name reached even the court, where such tidings would have no\nready entrance, what was only an occasion of more or less languid\ngossip and curiosity to others stirred the sleeping accuser in Herod's\nbreast. He had no doubt as to who this new Teacher, armed with\nmightier powers than John who 'did no miracles' had ever possessed,\nwas. His conviction that he was John, come back with increased power,\nwas immediate, and was held fast, in spite of the buzz of other\nopinions.\n\nNote the unusual order of the sentence in verse 16: 'John whom I\nbeheaded, he is,' etc. The terrified king blurts out the name of his\ndread first, then tremblingly takes the guilt of the deed to himself,\nand last speaks the terrifying thought that he is risen. A man who has\na sin in his memory can never be sure that its ghost will not suddenly\nstart up. Trivial incidents will rouse the sleeping conscience. Some\nnothing, a chance word, a scent, a sound, the look on a face, the glow\nof an evening sky, may bring all the foul past up again. A puff of\nwind clears away the mist of oblivion, and the old sin starts into\nvividness as if done yesterday. You touch a secret spring, and there\nyawns in the floor a gap leading down to a dungeon.\n\nConscience thus wakened is free from all illusions as to guilt. '_I_\nbeheaded.' There are no excuses now about Herodias' urgency, or\nSalome's beauty, or the rash oath, or the need of keeping it, before\nhis guests. The deed stands clear of all these, as his own act. It is\never so. When conscience speaks, sophistications about temptations or\ncompanions, or necessity, or the more learned excuses which\nphilosophers make about environment and heredity as weakening\nresponsibility and diminishing guilt, shrivel to nothing. The present\noperations of conscience distinctly predict future still more complete\nremembrance of, and sense of responsibility for, long past sins. There\nwill be a resurrection of men's evil deeds, as well as of their\nbodies, and each of them will shake its gory locks at its author, and\nsay, 'Thou didst it.'\n\nThere is no proof that Herod was a Sadducee, disbelieving in a\nresurrection; but, whether he was or not, the terrors of conscience\nmade short work of the difficulties in the way of his supposition. He\nwas right in believing that evil deeds are gifted with an awful\nimmortality, and will certainly rise again to shake their doer's soul\nwith terrors.\n\nII. The narrative harks back to tell the story of John's martyrdom. It\nsets vividly forth the inner discord and misery of half-and-half\nconvictions. Herodias was strong enough to get John put in prison, and\napparently she tried with all the tenacity of a malignant woman to\nhave him assassinated, by contrived accident or open sentence; but\n_that_ she could not manage.\n\nMark's analysis of the play of contending feeling in the weak king is\nbarely intelligible in the Authorised Version, but is clearly shown in\nthe Revised Version. He 'feared John,'--the jailer afraid of his\nprisoner,--'knowing that he was a righteous man and an holy.' Goodness\nis awful. The worst men know it when they see it, and pay it the\nhomage of dread, if not of love. 'And kept him safe' (not _ob_- but\n_pre_-served him); that is, from Herodias' revenge. 'And when he heard\nhim, he was much perplexed.' The reading thus translated differs from\nthat in the Authorised Version by two letters only, and obviously is\npreferable. Herod was a weak-willed man, drawn by two stronger natures\npulling in opposite directions.\n\nSo he alternated between lust and purity, between the foul kisses of\nthe temptress at his side and the warnings of the prophet in his\ndungeon. But in all his vacillation he could not help listening to\nJohn, but 'heard him gladly,' and mind and conscience approved the\nnobler voice. Thus he staggered along, with religion enough to spoil\nsome of his sinful delights, but not enough to make him give them up.\n\nSuch a state of partial conviction is not unusual. Many of us know\nquite well that, if we would drop some habit, which may not be very\ngrave, we should be less encumbered in some effort which it is our\ninterest or duty to make; but the conviction has not gone deeper than\nthe understanding. Like a shot which has only got half way through the\narmoured skin of a man-of-war, it has done no execution, nor reached\nthe engine-room where the power that drives the life is. In more\nimportant matters such imperfect convictions are widespread. The\nmajority of slaves to vice know perfectly well that they should give\nit up. And in regard to the salvation which is in Christ, there are\nmultitudes who know in their inmost consciousness that they ought to\nbe Christians.\n\nSuch a condition is one liable to unrest and frequent inner conflict.\nTruly, he is 'much perplexed' whose conscience pulls him one way, and\nhis inclinations another. There is no more miserable condition than\nthat of the man whose will is cleft in twain, and who has a continual\nbattle raging within. Conscience may be bound and thrust down into a\ndungeon, like John, and lust and pride may be carousing overhead, but\ntheir mirth is hollow, and every now and then the stern voice comes up\nthrough the gratings, and the noisy revelry is hushed, while _it_\nspeaks doom.\n\nSuch a state of inner strife comes often from unwillingness to give up\none special evil. If Herod could have plucked up resolve to pack\nHerodias about her business, other things might have come right. Many\nof us are ruined by being unwilling to let some dear delight go. 'If\nthine eye causeth thee to stumble, pluck it out.'\n\nWe do not make up for such cowardly shrinking from doing right by\npleasure in the divine word which we are not obeying. Herod no doubt\nthought that his delight in listening to John went some way to atone\nfor his refusal to get rid of Herodias. Some of us think ourselves\ngood Christians because we assent to truth, and even like to hear it,\nprovided the speaker suit our tastes. Glad hearing only aggravates the\nguilt of not doing. It is useless to admire John if you keep Herodias.\n\nIII. The end of the story gives an example of the final powerlessness\nof such half-convictions. One need not repeat the grim narrative of\nthe murder. We all know it. One knows not which is the more\nrepugnant--the degradation of the poor child Salome to the level of a\ndancing-girl, the fell malignity of the mother who would shame her\ndaughter for such an end, the maudlin generosity of Herod, flushed\nwith wine and excited passion, the hideous request from lips so young,\nthe ineffectual sorrow of Herod, his fantastic sense of obligation,\nwhich scrupled to break a wicked promise and did not scruple to murder\na prophet, or the ghastly picture of the girl hurrying to her mother\nwith the freshly severed head, dripping on to the platter and staining\nher fair young hands.\n\nThis was what all the convictions of John's righteousness had come to.\nSo had ended the half yielding to his brave rebukes and the\nineffectual aspirations after cleaner living. That chaos of lust and\nblood teaches that partial reformation is apt to end in a deeper\nplunge into fouler mire. If a man is false to his feeblest conviction,\nhe makes himself a worse man all through. A partial thaw is generally\nfollowed by keener frost than before. A soul half melted and cooled\nagain is harder to melt than before. An abortive slave-rising rivets\nthe chains.\n\nThe incident teaches that simple weakness may come to be the parent of\ngreat sin. In a world like this, where there are always more voices\nsoliciting to wrong than to right, to be weak is in the long run to be\nwicked. Fatal facility of disposition ruins hundreds of unthinking\nmen. Nothing is more needful than that young people should learn to\nsay 'No,' and should cultivate a wholesome obstinacy which is afraid\nof nothing but of sinning against God.\n\nIf we look onwards to this Herod's last appearance in Scripture, we\nget further lessons. He desired to see Jesus that he might see a\nmiracle done to amuse him, like a conjuring trick. Convictions and\nterrors had faded from his frivolous soul. He has forgotten that he\nonce thought Jesus to be John come again. He sees Christ, and sees\nnothing in Him; and Christ says nothing to Herod, because He knew it\nwould be useless.\n\nIt is an awful thing to put one's self beyond the hearing of that\nvoice, which 'all that are in the graves shall hear.' The most\neffectual stopping for our ears is neglect of what we know to be His\nwill. If we will not listen to Him, we shall gradually lose the power\nof hearing Him, and then He will lock His lips, and answer nothing. We\ndare not say that Jesus is dumb to any man while life lasts, but we\ndare not refrain from saying that that condition of utter\ninsensibility to His voice may be indefinitely approached by us, and\nthat neglected convictions bring us terribly far on the way towards\nit.\n\n\n\nTHE WORLD'S BREAD\n\n\n'And the apostles gathered themselves together unto Jesus, and told\nHim all things, both what they had done, and what they had taught. 31.\nAnd He said unto them, Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place,\nand rest a while: for there were many coming and going, and they had\nno leisure so much as to eat. 32. And they departed into a desert\nplace by ship privately. 33. And the people saw them departing, and\nmany knew Him, and ran afoot thither out of all cities, and outwent\nthem, and came together unto Him. 34. And Jesus, when he came out, saw\nmuch people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they\nwere as sheep not having a shepherd: and He began to teach them many\nthings. 35. And when the day was now far spent, His disciples came\nunto Him, and said, This is a desert place, and now the time is far\npassed: 36. Send them away, that they may go into the country round\nabout, and into the villages, and buy themselves bread: for they have\nnothing to eat. 37. He answered and said unto them, Give ye them to\neat. And they say unto Him, Shall we go and buy two hundred pennyworth\nof bread, and give them to eat? 38. He saith unto them, How many\nloaves have ye? go and see. And when they knew, they say, Five, and\ntwo fishes. 39. And he commanded them to make all sit down by\ncompanies upon the green grass. 40. And they sat down in ranks, by\nhundreds, and by fifties. 41. And when He had taken the five loaves\nand the two fishes, He looked up to heaven, and blessed, and brake the\nloaves, and gave them to His disciples to set before them; and the two\nfishes divided He among them all. 42. And they did all eat, and were\nfilled. 43. And they took up twelve baskets full of the fragments, and\nof the fishes. 44. And they that did eat of the loaves were about five\nthousand men.'--Mark vi. 30-44.\n\nThis is the only miracle recorded by all four Evangelists. Matthew\nbrings it into immediate connection with John's martyrdom, while Mark\nlinks it with the Apostles' return from their first mission. His\naccount is, as usual, full of graphic touches, while John shows more\nintimate knowledge of the parts played by the Apostles, and sets the\nwhole incident in a clearer light.\n\nI. Mark brings out the preceding events, and especially the seeking\nfor solitude, which was baulked by popular enthusiasm. The Apostles\ncame back to Jesus full of wondering joy, and were eager to tell what\nthey had done and taught. Note that order, which hints that they\nthought more of the miracles than of the message. They were flushed\nand excited by success, and needed calming down even more than\nphysical rest. So Jesus, knowing their need, bids them come with Him\ninto healing solitude, and rest awhile.\n\nAfter any great effort, the body cries for repose, but still more does\nthe soul's health demand quiet after exciting and successful work for\nChrist. Without much solitary communion with Jesus, effort for Him\ntends to become mechanical, and to lose the elevation of motive and\nthe suppression of self which give it all its power. It is not wasted\ntime which the busiest worker, confronted with the most imperative\ncalls for service, gives to still fellowship in secret with God. There\ncan never be too much activity in Christian work, but there is often\ndisproportioned activity, which is too much for the amount of time\ngiven to meditation and communion. That is one reason why there is so\nmuch sowing and so little reaping in Christian work to-day.\n\nBut, on the other hand, we have sometimes to do as Jesus was driven to\ndo in this incident; namely, to forgo cheerfully, after brief repose,\nthe blessed and strengthening hour of quiet. The motives of the crowds\nthat hurried round the head of the lake while the boat was pulled\nacross, and so got to the other side before it, were not very pure.\nCuriosity drove them as much as any nobler impulse. But we must not be\ntoo particular about the reasons that induce men to resort to Jesus,\nand if we can give them more than they sought, so much the better. Let\nus be thankful if, for any reason, we can get them to listen.\n\nJesus 'came forth'; that is, probably from a short withdrawal with the\nTwelve. Brief repose snatched, He turned again to the work. The 'great\nmultitude' did not make Him impatient, though, no doubt, some of the\nApostles were annoyed. But He saw deeply into their condition, and\npity welled in His heart. If we looked on the crowds in our great\ncities with Christ's eyes, their spiritual state would be the most\nprominent thing in sight. And if we saw that as He saw it, disgust,\ncondemnation, indifference, would not be uppermost, as they too often\nare, but some drop of His great compassion would trickle into our\nhearts. The masses are still 'as sheep without a shepherd,' ignorant\nof the way, and defenceless against their worst foes. Do we habitually\ntry to cultivate as ours Christ's way of looking at men, and Christ's\nemotions towards men? If we do, we shall imitate Christ's actions for\nmen, and shall recognise that, to reproduce as well as we can the\n'many things' which He taught them, is the best contribution which His\ndisciples can make to healing the misery of a Christless world.\n\nII. The difference between John and Mark in regard to the conversation\nof Jesus with the disciples about finding food for the crowd, is\neasily harmonised. John tells us what Jesus said at the first sight of\nthe multitude; Mark takes up the narrative at the close of the day. We\nowe to John the knowledge that the exigency was not first pointed out\nby the disciples, but that His calm, loving prescience saw it, and\ndetermined to meet it, long before they spoke. No needs arise\nunforeseen by Christ, and He requires no prompting to help.\nDifficulties which seem insoluble to us, when we too late wake to\nperceive them, have long ago been taken into account and solved by\nHim.\n\nThe Apostles, according to Mark, came with a suggestion of helpless\nembarrassment. They could think of nothing but to disperse the crowd,\nand so get rid of responsibility. He answers with a paradox of\nconscious power, which commands a seeming impossibility, and therein\nprophesies endowment that will make it possible. Has not the Church\never since been but too often faithless enough to let the multitudes\ndrift away to 'the cities and villages round about,' and there, amid\nhuman remedies for their sore needs, 'buy themselves,' with much\nexpenditure, a scanty provision? Are we not all tempted to shuffle off\nresponsibility for the world's hunger? Do we not often think that our\nresources are absurdly insufficient, and so, faintheartedly make them\nstill less? Is not His command still, 'Give ye them to eat'? Let us\nrise to the height of our duties and of our power, and be sure that\nwhoever has Christ has enough for the world's hunger, and is bound to\ncall men from 'that which is not bread,' and to feed them with Him who\nis.\n\nPhilip's morning calculation (curiously in keeping with his character)\nseems to have been repeated by the Apostles, as, no doubt, he had been\nsaying the same thing all day at intervals. They had made a rough\ncalculation of how much would be wanted. It was a sum far beyond their\nmeans. It was as much as about \u00a37. And where was such wealth as that\nin that company? But calculations which leave out Christ's power are\nnot quite conclusive. The Apostles had reckoned up the requirement,\nbut they had not taken stock of their resources. So they were sent to\nhunt up what they could, and John tells us that it was Andrew who\nfound the boy with five barley loaves and two fishes. How came a boy\nto be so provident? Probably he had come to try a bit of trade on his\nown account. At all events, the Twelve seem to have been able to buy\nhis little stock, which done, they went back to tell Jesus, no doubt\nthinking that such a meagre supply would end all talk of their giving\nthe crowd to eat. Jesus would have us count our own resources, not\nthat we may fling up His work in despair, but that we may realise our\ndependence on Him, and that the consciousness of our own insufficiency\nmay not diminish one jot our sense of obligation to feed the\nmultitude. It is good to learn our own weakness if it drives us to\nlean on His strength. 'Five loaves and two fishes,' plus Jesus Christ,\ncome to a good deal more than 'two hundred pennyworth of bread.'\n\nIII. The miracle is told with beautiful vividness and simplicity.\nMark's picturesque words show the groups sitting by companies of\nhundreds or of fifties. He uses a word which means 'the square garden\nplots in which herbs are grown.' So they sat on the green grass, which\nat that Passover season would be fresh and abundant. What half-amused\nand more than half-incredulous wonder as to what would come next would\nbe in the people! Many of them would be saying in their hearts, and\nperhaps some in words, 'Can God furnish a table in the wilderness?'\n(Ps. lxxviii. 19). In that small matter Jesus shows that He is 'not\nthe Author of confusion,' but of order. The rush of five thousand\nhungry men struggling to get a share of what seemed an insufficient\nsupply would have been unseemly and dangerous to the women and\nchildren, but the seated groups become as companies of guests, and He\nthe orderer of the feast. To get at the numbers would be easy, while\nthe passage of the Apostles through the groups was facilitated, and\nnone would be likely to remain unsupplied or passed over.\n\nThe point at which the miraculous element entered is not definitely\nstated, but if each portion passed through the hands of Christ to the\nservers, and from them to the partakers, the multiplication of the\nbread must have been effected while it lay in His hand; that is to\nsay, the loaves were not diminished by His giving. That is true about\nall divine gifts. He bestows, and is none the poorer. The streams flow\nfrom the golden vase, and, after all outpouring, it is brimful.\n\nMany irrelevant difficulties have been raised about the mode of the\nmiracle, and many lame analogies have been suggested, as if it but\nhastened ordinary processes. But these need not detain us. Note rather\nthe great lesson which John records that our Lord Himself drew from\nthis miracle. It was a symbol, in the material region, of His work in\nthe spiritual, as all His miracles were. He is the Bread of the world.\nHo gives Himself still, and in a yet more wonderful sense He gave His\nflesh for the life of the world. He gives us Himself for our own\nnourishment, and also that we may give Him to others. It was an honour\nto the Twelve that they should be chosen to be His almoners. It should\nbe felt an honour by all Christians that through them Christ wills to\nfeed a hungry world.\n\nA somewhat different application of the miracle reminds us that Jesus\nuses our resources, scanty and coarse as five barley loaves, for the\nbasis of His wonders. He did not create the bread, but multiplied it.\nOur small abilities, humbly acknowledged to be small, and laid in His\nhands, will grow. There is power enough in the Church, if the power\nwere consecrated, to feed the world.\n\nAll four Gospels tell the command to gather up the 'broken pieces'\n(not the fragments left by the eaters, but the unused pieces broken by\nChrist). This union of economy with creative power could never have\nbeen invented. Unused resources are retained. The exercise of\nChristian powers multiplies them, and after the feeding of thousands\nmore remains than was possessed before. 'There is that scattereth, and\nyet increaseth.'\n\n\n\nCHILDREN AND LITTLE DOGS\n\n\n'And from thence He arose, and went into the borders of Tyre and\nSidon, and entered Into an house, and would have no man know it: but\nHe could not be hid. 25. For a certain woman, whose young daughter had\nan unclean spirit, heard of Him, and came and fell at His feet: 26.\nThe woman was a Greek, a Syrophenician by nation; and she besought Him\nthat He would cast forth the devil out of her daughter. 87. But Jesus\nsaid unto her, Let the children first be filled: for it is not meet to\ntake the children's bread, and to cast it unto the dogs. 28. And she\nanswered and said unto Him, Yes, Lord: yet the dogs under the table\neat of the children's crumbs. 29. And He said unto her, For this\nsaying go thy way; the devil is gone out of thy daughter. 30. And when\nshe was come to her house, she found the devil gone out, and her\ndaughter laid upon the bed.'--Mark vii. 24-30.\n\nOur Lord desired to withdraw from the excited crowds who were flocking\nafter Him as a mere miracle-worker and from the hostile espionage of\nemissaries of the Pharisees, 'which had come from Jerusalem.'\nTherefore He sought seclusion in heathen territory. He, too, knew the\nneed of quiet, and felt the longing to plunge into privacy, to escape\nfor a time from the pressure of admirers and of foes, and to go where\nno man knew Him. How near to us that brings Him! And how the\nremembrance of it helps to explain His demeanour to the Syrophcenician\nwoman, so unlike His usual tone!\n\nNaturally the presence of Jesus leaked out, and perhaps the very\neffort to avoid notice attracted it. Rumour would have carried His\nname across the border, and the tidings of His being among them would\nstir hope in some hearts that felt the need of His help. Of such was\nthis woman, whom Mark describes first, generally, as a 'Greek' (that\nis, a Gentile), and then particularly as 'a Syrophcenician by race';\nthat is, one of that branch of the Phoenician race who inhabited\nmaritime Syria, in contradistinction from the other branch inhabiting\nNorth-eastern Africa, Carthage, and its neighbourhood. Her deep need\nmade her bold and persistent, as we learn in detail from Matthew, who\nis in this narrative more graphic than Mark. He tells us that she\nattacked Jesus in the way, and followed Him, pouring out her loud\npetitions, to the annoyance of the disciples. They thought that they\nwere carrying out His wish for privacy in suggesting that it would be\nbest to 'send her away' with her prayer granted, and so stop her\n'crying after us,' which might raise a crowd, and defeat the wish. We\nowe to Matthew the further facts of the woman's recognition of Jesus\nas 'the Son of David,' and of the strange ignoring of her cries, and\nof His answer to the disciples' suggestion, in which He limited His\nmission to Israel, and so explained to them His silence to her. Mark\nomits all these points, and focuses all the light on the two\nthings--Christ's strange and apparently harsh refusal, and the woman's\nanswer, which won her cause.\n\nCertainly our Lord's words are startlingly unlike Him, and as\nstartlingly like the Jewish pride of race and contempt for Gentiles.\nBut that the woman did not take them so is clear; and that was not due\nonly to her faith, but to something in Him which gave her faith a\nfoothold. We are surely not to suppose that she drew from His words an\ninference which He did not perceive in them, and that He was, as some\ncommentators put it, 'caught in His own words.' Mark alone gives us\nthe first clause of Christ's answer to the woman's petition: 'Let the\nchildren first be filled.' And that 'first' distinctly says that their\nprerogative is priority, not monopoly. If there is a 'first,' there\nwill follow a second. The very image of the great house in which the\nchildren sit at the table, and the 'little dogs' are in the room,\nimplies that children and dogs are part of one household; and Jesus\nmeant by it just what the woman found in it,--the assurance that the\nmeal-time for the dogs would come when the children had done. That is\nbut a picturesque way of stating the method of divine revelation\nthrough the medium of the chosen people, and the objections to\nChrist's words come at last to be objections to the 'committing' of\nthe 'oracles of God' to the Jewish race; that is to say, objections to\nthe only possible way by which a historical revelation could be given.\nIt must have personal mediums, a place and a sequence. It must prepare\nfit vehicles for itself and gradually grow in clearness and contents.\nAnd all this is just to say that revelation for the world must be\nfirst the possession of a race. The fire must have a hearth on which\nit can be kindled and burn, till it is sufficient to bear being\ncarried thence.\n\nUniversalism was the goal of the necessary restriction. Pharisaism\nsought to make the restriction permanent. Jesus really threw open the\ngates to all in this very saying, which at first sounds so harsh.\n'First' implies second, children and little dogs are all parts of the\none household. Christ's personal ministry was confined to Israel for\nobvious and weighty reasons. He felt, as Matthew tells us, that He\nsaid in this incident that He was not sent but to the lost sheep of\nthat nation. But His world-wide mission was as clear to Him as its\ntemporary limit, and in His first discourse in the synagogue at\nNazareth He proclaimed it to a scowling crowd. We cannot doubt that\nHis sympathetic heart yearned over this poor woman, and His seemingly\nrough speech was meant partly to honour the law which ruled His\nmission even in the act of making an exception to it, and partly to\ntest, and so to increase, her faith.\n\nHer swift laying of her finger on the vulnerable point in the apparent\nrefusal of her prayer may have been due to a woman's quick wit, but it\nwas much more due to a mother's misery and to a suppliant's faith.\nThere must have been something in Christ's look, or in the cadence of\nHis voice, which helped to soften the surface harshness of His words,\nand emboldened her to confront Him with the plain implications of His\nown words. What a constellation of graces sparkles in her ready reply!\nThere is humility in accepting the place He gives her; insight in\nseeing at once a new plea in what might have sent her away despairing;\npersistence in pleading; confidence that He can grant her request and\nthat He would gladly do so. Our Lord's treatment of her was amply\njustified by its effects. His words were like the hard steel that\nstrikes the flint and brings out a shower of sparks. Faith makes\nobstacles into helps, and stones of stumbling into 'stepping-stones to\nhigher things.' If we will take the place which He gives us, and hold\nfast our trust in Him even when He seems silent to us, and will so far\npenetrate His designs as to find the hidden purpose of good in\napparent repulses, the honey secreted deep in the flower, we shall\nshare in this woman's blessing in the measure in which we share in her\nfaith.\n\nJesus obviously delighted in being at liberty to stretch His\ncommission so as to include her in its scope. Joyful recognition of\nthe ingenuity of her pleading, and of her faith's bringing her within\nthe circle of the 'children,' are apparent in His word, 'For this\nsaying go thy way.' He ever looks for the disposition in us which will\nlet Him, in accordance with His great purpose, pour on us His\nfull-flowing tide of blessing, and nothing gladdens Him more than\nthat, by humble acceptance of our assigned place, and persistent\npleading, and trust that will not be shaken, we should make it\npossible for Him to see in us recipients of His mercy and healing\ngrace.\n\n\n\nTHE PATTERN OF SERVICE\n\n\n'He touched his tongue; and looking up to heaven, He sighed, and saith\nEphphatha, that is, Be opened.'--Mark vii 33, 34.\n\nFor what reason was there this unwonted slowness in Christ's healing\nworks? For what reason was there this unusual emotion ere He spoke the\nword which cleansed?\n\nAs to the former question, a partial answer may perhaps be that our\nLord is here on half-heathen ground, where aids to faith were much\nneeded, and His power had to be veiled that it might be beheld. Hence\nthe miracle is a process rather than an act; and, advancing as it does\nby distinct stages, is conformed in appearance to men's works of\nmercy, which have to adapt means to ends, and creep to their goal by\npersevering toil. As to the latter, we know not why the sight of this\none poor sufferer should have struck so strongly on the ever-tremulous\nchords of Christ's pitying heart; but we do know that it was the\nvision brought before His spirit by this single instance of the\nworld's griefs and sicknesses--in which mass, however, the special\ncase before Him was by no means lost--that raised His eyes to heaven\nin mute appeal, and forced the groan from His breast.\n\nThe 'missionary spirit' is but one aspect of the Christian spirit. We\nshall only strengthen the former as we invigorate the latter. Harm has\nbeen done, both to ourselves and to that great cause, by seeking to\nstimulate compassion and efforts for heathen lands by the use of other\nexcitements, which have tended to vitiate even the emotions they have\naroused, and are apt to fail as when we need them most. It may\ntherefore be profitable if we turn to Christ's own manner of working,\nand His own emotions in His merciful deeds, set forth in this\nremarkable narrative, as containing lessons for us in our missionary\nand evangelistic work. I must necessarily omit more than a passing\nreference to the slow process of healing which this miracle exhibits.\nBut that, too, has its teaching for us, who are so often tempted to\nthink ourselves badly used, unless the fruit of our toil grows up,\nlike Jonah's gourd, before our eyes. If our Lord was content to reach\nHis end of blessing step by step, we may well accept 'patient\ncontinuance in well-doing' as the condition indispensable to reaping\nin due season.\n\nBut there are other thoughts still more needful which suggest\nthemselves. Those minute details which this Evangelist ever delights\nto give of our Lord's gestures, words, looks, and emotions, not only\nadd graphic force to the narrative but are precious glimpses into the\nvery heart of Christ. That fixed gaze into heaven, that groan which\nneither the glories seen above nor the conscious power to heal could\nstifle, that most gentle touch, as if removing material obstacles from\nthe deaf ears, and moistening the stiff tongue that it might move more\nfreely in the parched mouth, that word of authority which could not be\nwanting even when His working seemed likest a servant's, do surely\ncarry large lessons for us. The condition of all service, the cost of\nfeeling at which our work must be done, the need that the helpers\nshould identify themselves with the sufferers, and the victorious\npower of Christ's word over all deaf ears--these are the thoughts\nwhich I desire to connect with our text and to commend to your\nmeditation now.\n\nI. We have here set forth, in the Lord's heavenward look, the\nfoundation and condition of all true work for God.\n\nThe profound questions which are involved in the fact that, as man,\nChrist held communion with God in the exercise of faith and\naspiration, the same in kind as ours, do not concern us here. I speak\nto those who believe that Jesus is for us the perfect example of\ncomplete manhood, and who therefore believe that He is 'the leader of\nfaith,' the head of the long processions of those who in every age\nhave trusted in God and been 'lightened.' But, perhaps, though that\nconviction holds its place in our creeds, it has not been as\ncompletely incorporated with our thoughts as it should have been.\nThere has, no doubt, been a tendency, operating in much of our\nevangelical teaching, and in the common stream of orthodox opinion, to\nexcept, half unconsciously, the exercises of the religious life from\nthe sphere of Christ's example, and we need to be reminded that\nScripture presents His vow, 'I will put my trust in Him,' as the\ncrowning proof of His brotherhood, and that the prints of His kneeling\nlimbs have left their impressions where we kneel before the throne.\nTrue, the relation of the Son to the Father involves more than\ncommunion-namely, unity. But if we follow the teaching of the Bible,\nwe shall not presume that the latter excludes the former, but\nunderstand that the unity is the foundation of perfect communion, and\nthe communion the manifestation, so far as it can be manifested, of\nthe unspeakable unity. The solemn words which shine like\nstars--starlike in that their height above us shrinks their magnitude\nand dims their brightness, and in that they are points of radiance\npartially disclosing, and separated by, abysses of unlighted\ninfinitude--tell us that in the order of eternity, before creatures\nwere, there was communion, for 'the Word was with God,' and there was\nunity, for 'the Word was God.' And in the records of the life\nmanifested on earth the consciousness of unity loftily utters itself\nin the unfathomable declaration, 'I and my Father are one'; whilst the\nconsciousness of communion, dependent like ours on harmony of will and\ntrue obedience, breathes peacefully in the witness which He leaves to\nHimself: 'The Father has not left Me alone, for I do always the things\nthat please Him.'\n\nWe are fully warranted, then, in supposing that that wistful gaze to\nheaven means, and may be taken to symbolise, our Lord's conscious\ndirection of thought and spirit to God as He wrought His work of\nmercy. There are two distinctions to be noted between His communion\nwith God and ours before we can apply the lesson to ourselves. His\nheavenward look was not the renewal of interrupted fellowship, but\nrather, as a man standing firmly on firm rock may yet lift his foot to\nplant it again where it was before, and settle himself in his attitude\nbefore he strikes with all his might; so we may say Christ fixes\nHimself where He always stood, and grasps anew the hand that He always\nheld, before He does the deed of power. The communion that had never\nbeen broken was renewed; how much more the need that in _our_ work for\nGod the renewal of the--alas! too sadly sundered--fellowship should\never precede and always accompany our efforts! And again, Christ's\nfellowship was with the Father, while ours must be with the Father\nthrough the Son. The communion to which we are called is with Jesus\nChrist, in whom we find God.\n\nThe manner of that intercourse, and the various discipline of\nourselves with a view to its perfecting which Christian prudence\nprescribes, need not concern us here. As for the latter, let us not\nforget that a wholesome and wide-reaching self-denial cannot be\ndispensed with. Hands that are full of gilded toys and glass beads\ncannot grasp durable riches, and eyes that have been accustomed to\nglaring lights see only darkness when they look up to the violet\nheaven with all its stars. As to the former, every part of our nature\nabove the simply animal is capable of God, and the communion ought to\ninclude our whole being. Christ is truth for the understanding,\nauthority for the will, love for the heart, certainty for the hope,\nfruition for all the desires, and for the conscience at once cleansing\nand law. Fellowship with Him is no indolent passiveness, nor the\nluxurious exercise of certain emotions, but the contact of the whole\nnature with its sole adequate object and rightful Lord.\n\nSuch intercourse, brethren, lies at the foundation of all work for\nGod. It is the condition of all our power. It is the measure of all\nour success. Without it we may seem to realise the externals of\nprosperity, but it will be all illusion. With it we may perchance seem\nto 'spend our strength for nought'; but heaven has its surprises; and\nthose who toiled, nor left their hold of their Lord in all their work,\nwill have to say at last with wonder, as they see the results of their\npoor efforts, 'Who hath begotten me these? behold, I was left alone;\nthese, where had they been?'\n\nConsider in few words the manifold ways in which the indispensable\nprerequisite of all right effort for Christ may be shown to be\ncommunion with Christ.\n\nThe heavenward look is the renewal of our own vision of the calm\nverities in which we trust, the recourse for ourselves to the\nrealities which we desire that others should see. And what is equal in\npersuasive power to the simple utterance of one's own intense\nconviction? He only will infuse his own religion into other minds,\nwhose religion is not a set of hard dogmas, but is fused by the heat\nof personal experience into a river of living fire. It will flow then,\nnot otherwise. The only claim which the hearts of men will listen to,\nin those who would win them to spiritual beliefs, is that ancient one:\n'That which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon,\ndeclare we unto you.' Mightier than all arguments, than all 'proofs of\nthe truth of the Christian religion,' and penetrating into a sphere\ndeeper than that of the understanding, is the simple proclamation, 'We\nhave found the Messias.' If we would give sight to the blind, we must\nourselves be gazing into heaven. Only when we testify of that which we\nsee, as one might who, standing in a beleaguered city, discerned on\nthe horizon the filmy dust-cloud through which the spearheads of the\ndeliverers flashed at intervals, shall we win any to gaze with us till\nthey too behold and know themselves set free.\n\nThe heavenward look draws new strength from the source of all our\nmight. In our work, dear brethren, contemplating as it ought to do\nexclusively spiritual results, what we do depends largely on what we\nare, and what we are depends on what we receive, and what we receive\ndepends on the depth and constancy of our communion with God. 'The\nhelp which is done upon earth He doeth it all Himself.' We and our\norganisations are but the channels through which this might is poured;\nand if we choke the bed with turbid masses of drift and heavy rocks of\nearthly thoughts, or build from bank to bank thick dams of worldliness\ncompact with slime of sin, how shall the full tide flow through us for\nthe healing of the salt and barren places? Will it not leave its\nformer course silted up with sand, and cut for itself new outlets,\nwhile the useless quays that once rang with busy life stand silent,\nand 'the cities are solitary that were full of people'? We are\n\n       'The trumpet at Thy lips, the clarion\n  Full of Thy cry, sonorous with Thy breath.'\n\nLet us see to it that by fellowship with Christ we keep the passage\nclear, and become recipients of the inspiration which shall thrill our\nelse-silent spirits into the blast of loud alarum and the ringing\nproclamation of the true King.\n\nThe heavenward look will guard us from the temptations which surround\nall our service, and the distractions which lay waste our lives. It is\nhabitual communion with Christ that alone will give the persistency\nthat makes systematic, continuous efforts for Him possible, and yet\nwill keep systematic work from degenerating, as it ever tends to do,\ninto mechanical work. There is no greater virtue in irregular\ndesultory service than in systematised labour. The one is not freer\nfrom besetting temptations than the other, only the temptations are of\ndifferent sorts. Machinery saves manual toil, and multiplies force.\nBut we may have too heavy machinery for what engineers call the boiler\npower,--too many wheels and shafts for the steam we have to drive them\nwith. What we want is not less organisation, or other sorts of it, but\nmore force. Any organisation will do if we have God's Spirit breathing\nthrough it. None will be better than so much old iron if we have not.\n\nWe are ever apt to trust to our work, to do it without a distinct\nrecurrence at each moment to the principles on which it rests, and the\nmotives by which it should be actuated,--to become so absorbed in\ndetails that we forget the purpose which alone gives them meaning, to\nover-estimate the external aspects of it, to lose sight of the solemn\ntruths which make it so grand, and to think of it as commonplace\nbecause it is common, as ordinary because it is familiar. And from\nthese most real dangers, which beset us all, there is no refuge but\nthe frequent, the habitual, gaze into the open heavens, which will\nshow us again the realities of things, and bring to our spirits,\ndwarfed even by habits of goodness, the renewal of former motives by\nthe vision of Jesus Christ.\n\nSuch constant communion will further surround us with an atmosphere\nthrough which none of the many influences which threaten our Christian\nlife and our Christian work can penetrate. As the diver in his bell\nsits dry at the bottom of the sea, and draws a pure air from the free\nheavens far above him, and is parted from that murderous waste of\ngreen death that clings so closely round the translucent crystal walls\nwhich keep him safe; so we, enclosed in God, shall repel from\nourselves all that would overflow to destroy us and our work, and may\nby His grace lay deeper than the waters some courses in the great\nbuilding that shall one day rise, stately and many-mansioned, from out\nof the conquered waves. For ourselves, and for all that we do for Him,\nliving communion with God is the means of power and peace, of security\nand success.\n\nIt was never more needful than now. Feverish activity rules in all\nspheres of life. The iron wheels of the car which bears the modern\nidol of material progress whirl fast, and crush remorselessly all who\ncannot keep up the pace. Christian effort is multiplied and\nsystematised beyond all precedent. And all these facts make calm\nfellowship with God hard to compass. The measure of the difficulty is\nthe measure of the need. I, for my part, believe that there are few\nChristian duties more neglected than that of meditation, the very name\nof which has fallen of late into comparative disuse, that augurs ill\nfor the frequency of the thing. We are so busy thinking, discussing,\ndefending, inquiring; or preaching, and teaching, and working, that we\nhave no time and no leisure of heart for quiet contemplation, without\nwhich the exercise of the intellect upon Christ's truth will not feed,\nand busy activity in Christ's cause may starve, the soul. There are\nfew things which the Church of this day in all its parts needs more\nthan to obey the invitation, 'Come ye yourselves apart into a lonely\nplace, and rest a while.'\n\nChrist has set us the example. Let our prayers ascend as His did, and\nin our measure the answers which came to Him will not fail us. For us,\ntoo, 'praying, the heavens' shall be 'opened,' and the peace-bringing\nspirit fall dove-like on our meek hearts. For us, too, when the shadow\nof our cross lies black and gaunt upon our paths, and our souls are\ntroubled, communion with heaven will bring the assurance, audible to\nour ears at least, that God will glorify Himself even in us. If, after\nmany a weary day, we seek to hold fellowship with God as He sought it\non the Mount of Olives, or among the solitudes of the midnight hills,\nor out in the morning freshness of the silent wilderness, like Him we\nshall have men gathering around us to hear us speak when we come forth\nfrom 'the secret place of the Most High.' If our prayer, like His,\ngoes before our mighty deeds, the voice that first pierced the skies\nwill penetrate the tomb, and make the dead stir in their\ngrave-clothes. If our longing, trustful look is turned to the heavens,\nwe shall not speak in vain on earth when we say, 'Be opened!'\n\nBrethren, we cannot do without the communion which our Master needed.\nDo we delight in what strengthened Him? Does our work rest upon the\nbasis of inward fellowship with God which underlay His? Alas! that our\nPattern should be our rebuke, and that the readiest way to force home\nour faults on our consciences should be the contemplation of the life\nwhich we say that we try to copy!\n\nII. We have here pity for the evils we would remove, set forth by the\nLord's sigh.\n\nThe frequency with which this Evangelist records our Lord's emotions\non the sight of sin and sorrow has been often noticed. In his pages we\nread of Christ's grief at the hardness of men's hearts, of His\nmarvelling because of their unbelief, of His being moved with\ncompassion for an outcast leper and a hungry multitude, of His sighing\ndeeply in His spirit when prejudiced hostility, assuming the\nappearance of candid inquiry, asked of Him a sign from heaven. All\nthese instances of true human feeling, like His tears at the grave of\nLazarus, and His weariness as He sat on the well, and His tired sleep\nin the stern of the little fishing-boat, and His hunger and His\nthirst, are very precious as aids in realising His perfect manhood;\nbut they have a worth beyond even that. They show us how the manifold\nills and evils of man's fate and conduct appealed to the only pure\nheart that ever beat, and how quickly and warmly it, by reason of its\npurity, throbbed in sympathy with all the woe. One might have thought\nthat in the present case the consciousness that His help was so near\nwould have been sufficient to repress the sigh. One might have thought\nthat the heavenward look would have stayed the tears. But neither the\nhappiness of active benevolence, nor the knowledge of immediate cure,\nnor the glories above flooding His vision, could lift the burden from\nHis labouring breast. And surely in this too, we may discern a law for\nall our efforts, that their worth shall be in proportion to the\nexpense of feeling at which they are done. Men predict the harvests in\nEgypt by the height which the river marks on the gauge of the\ninundation. So many feet there represent so much fertility. Tell me\nthe depth of a Christian man's compassion, and I will tell you the\nmeasure of his fruitfulness.\n\nWhat was it that drew that sigh from the heart of Jesus? One poor man\nstood before him, by no means the most sorely afflicted of the many\nwretched ones whom He healed. But He saw in him more than a solitary\ninstance of physical infirmities. Did there not roll darkly before His\nthoughts that whole weltering sea of sorrow that moans round the world\nof which here is but one drop that He could dry up? Did there not rise\nblack and solid, against the clear blue to which He had been looking,\nthe mass of man's sin, of which these bodily infirmities were but a\npoor symbol as well as a consequence? He saw, as none but He could\nbear to see, the miserable realities of human life. His knowledge of\nall that man might be, of all that the most of men were becoming, His\npower of contemplating in one awful aggregate the entire sum of\nsorrows and sins, laid upon His heart a burden which none but He has\never endured. His communion with heaven deepened the dark shadow on\nearth, and the eyes that looked up to God and saw Him, could not but\nsee foulness where others suspected none, and murderous messengers of\nhell walking in darkness unpenetrated by mortal sight. And all that\npain of clearer knowledge of the sorrowfulness of sorrow, and the\nsinfulness of sin, was laid upon a heart in which was no selfishness\nto blunt the sharp edge of the pain nor any sin to stagnate the pity\nthat flowed from the wound. To Jesus Christ, life was a daily\nmartyrdom before death had 'made the sacrifice complete,' and He 'bore\nour griefs and carried our sorrows' through many a weary hour before\nHe 'bare them in His own body on the tree.' Therefore, 'Bear ye one\nanother's burdens, and so fulfil the law' which Christ obeyed, becomes\na command for all who would draw men to Him. And true sorrow, a sharp\nand real sense of pain, becomes indispensable as preparation for, and\naccompaniment to, our work.\n\nMark how in us, as in our Lord, the sigh of compassion is to be\nconnected with the look to heaven. It follows upon that gaze. The\nevils become more real, more terrible, by their startling contrast\nwith the unshadowed light which lives above cloudracks and mists. It\nis a sharp shock to turn from the free sweep of the heavens, starry\nand radiant, to the sights that meet us in 'this dim spot which men\ncall earth.' Thus habitual communion with God is the root of the\ntruest and purest compassion. It does not withdraw us from our fellow\nfeeling with our brethren, it cultivates no isolation for undisturbed\nbeholding of God. It at once supplies a standard by which to measure\nthe greatness of man's godlessness, and therefore of his gloom, and a\nmotive for laying the pain of these upon our hearts, as if they were\nour own. He has looked into the heavens to little purpose who has not\nlearned how bad and how sad the world now is, and how God bends over\nit in pitying love.\n\nAnd that same fellowship which will clear our eyes and soften our\nhearts, is also the one consolation which we have when our sense of\n'all the ills that flesh is heir to' becomes deep nearly to despair.\nWhen one thinks of the real facts of human life, and tries to conceive\nof the frightful meanness and passion and hate and wretchedness that\nhave been howling and shrieking and gibbering and groaning through\ndreary millenniums, one's brain reels, and hope seems to be absurdity,\nand joy a sin against our fellows, as a feast would be in a house next\ndoor to where was a funeral. I do not wonder at settled sorrow falling\nupon men of vivid imagination, keen moral sense, and ordinary\nsensitiveness, when they brood long on the world as it is. But I do\nwonder at the superficial optimism which goes on with its little\nprophecies about human progress, and its rose-coloured pictures of\nhuman life, and sees nothing to strike it dumb for ever in men's\nwrithing miseries, blank failures, and hopeless end. Ah! brethren, if\nit were not for the heavenward look, how could we bear the sight of\nearth? 'We see not yet all things put under Him.' No! God knows, far\nenough off from that. Man's folly, man's submission to the creatures\nhe should rule, man's agonies, and man's transgression, are a grim\ncontrast to the Psalmist's vision. If we had only earth to look to,\ndespair of the race, expressed in settled melancholy apathy or in\nfierce cynicism, were the wisest attitude. But there is more within\nour view than earth; 'we see Jesus'; we look to the heaven, and as we\nbehold the true Man, we see more than ever, indeed, how far from that\npattern we all are; but we can bear the thought of what men as yet\nhave been, when we see that perfect Example of what men shall be. The\nroot and the consolation of our sorrow for men's evils is communion\nwith God.\n\nLet me remind you, too, that still more dangerous than the pity which\nis not based upon, and corrected by, the look to heaven, is the pity\nwhich does not issue in strenuous work. It is easy to excite people's\nemotions; but it is perilous for both the operator and the subject,\nunless they be excited through the understanding, and pass on the\nimpulse to the will and the practical powers. The surest way to\npetrify a heart is to stimulate the feelings, and give them nothing to\ndo. They will never recover their original elasticity if they have\nbeen wantonly drawn forth thus. Coldness, hypocrisy, spurious\nsentimentalism, and a whole train of affectations and falsehoods\nfollow the steps of an emotional religion, which divorces itself from\nactive work. Pity is meant to impel to help. Let us not be content\nwith painting sad and true pictures of men's woes,--of the gloomy\nhopelessness of idolatry, for instance--but let us remember that every\ntime our compassion is stirred, and no action ensues, our hearts are\nin some measure indurated, and the sincerity of our religion in some\ndegree impaired. White-robed Pity is meant to guide the strong powers\nof practical help to their work. She is to them as eyes to go before\nthem and point their tasks. They are to her as hands to execute her\ngentle will. Let us see to it that we rend them not apart; for idle\npity is unblessed and fruitless as a sigh cast into the fragrant air,\nand unpitying work is more unblessed and fruitless still. Let us\nremember, too, that Christlike and indispensable as Pity is, she is\nsecond, and not first. Let us take heed that we preserve that order in\nour own minds, and in our endeavours to stimulate one another. For if\nwe reverse it, we shall surely find the fountains of compassion drying\nup long before the wide stretches of thirsty land are watered, and the\nenterprises which we have sought to carry on by appealing to a\nsecondary motive, languishing when there is most need for vigour. Here\nis the true sequence which must be observed in our missionary and\nevangelistic work, 'Looking up to heaven, He sighed.'\n\nDear brethren! must we not all acknowledge woful failures in this\nregard? How much of our service, our giving, our preaching, our\nplanning, has been carried on without one thought of the ills and\ngodlessness we profess to be seeking to cure! If some angel's touch\ncould annihilate all that portion of our activity, what gaps would be\nleft in all our subscription lists, our sermons, and our labours both\nat home and abroad! Annihilate, do I say? It is done already. Such\nwork is nothing, and comes to nothing. 'Yea, it shall not be planted;\nyea, it shall not be sown; and He shall also blow upon it, and it\nshall wither.'\n\nThe hindrances to such abiding consciousness of and pity for the\nworld's woes run all down to the one tap-root of all sin, selfishness.\nThe remedies run all up to the common form of all goodness, the\nself-absorbing communion with Jesus Christ. And besides that\nmother-tincture of everything wrong, subsidiary impediments may be\nfound in the small amounts of time and effort which any of us give to\nbring the facts of the world's condition vividly before our minds. The\ndestruction of all emotion is the indolent acquiescence in general\nstatements which we are too lazy or busy to break up into individual\ncases. To talk about hundreds of millions of idolaters leaves the\nheart untouched. But take one soul out of all that mass, and try to\nfeel what his life is in its pitchy darkness, broken only by lurid\nlights of fear and sickly gleams of hope, in its passions ungoverned\nby love, its remorse uncalmed by pardon, its affections feeling like\nthe tendrils of some climbing plant for the stay they cannot find, and\nin the cruel blackness that swallows it up irrevocably at last. Follow\nit from the childhood that knows no discipline to the grave that knows\nno waking, and will not the solitary instance come nearer our hearts\nthan the millions?\n\nBut however that may be, the sluggishness of our imaginations, the\nvery familiarity with the awful facts, our own feeble hold on Christ,\nour absorption in personal interests, the incompleteness and\ndesultoriness of our communion with our Lord, do all concur with our\nnatural selfishness to make a sadly large proportion of our apparent\nlabours for God and men utterly cold and unfeeling, and therefore\nutterly worthless. Has the benighted world ever caused us as much pain\nas some trivial pecuniary loss has done? Have we ever felt the smart\nof the gaping wounds through which our brothers' blood is pouring\nforth as much as we do the tiniest scratch on our own fingers? Does it\nsound to us like exaggerated rhetoric when a prophet breaks out, 'Oh\nthat my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I\nmight weep night and day!' or when an Apostle in calmer tones\ndeclares, 'I have great heaviness and continual sorrow of heart'? Some\nseeds are put to steep and swell in water, that they may be tested\nbefore sowing. The seed which we sow will not germinate unless it be\nsaturated with our tears. And yet the sorrow must be blended with joy;\nfor it is glad labour which is ordinarily productive labour--just as\nthe growing time is the changeful April, and one knows not whether the\npromise of harvest is most sure in the clouds that drop fatness, or in\nthe sunshine that makes their depths throb with whitest light, and\ntouches the moist-springing blades into emeralds and diamonds. The\ngladness comes from the heavenward look, the pain is breathed in the\ndeep-drawn sigh; both must be united in us if we would 'approve\nourselves as the servants of God--as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.'\n\nIII. We have here loving contact with those whom we would help set\nforth in the Lord's touch.\n\nThe reasons for the variety observable in Christ's method of\ncommunicating supernatural blessing were, probably, too closely\nconnected with unrecorded differences in the spiritual conditions of\nthe recipients to be distinctly traceable by us. But though we cannot\ntell why a particular method was employed in a given case, why now a\nword, and now a symbolic action, now the touch of His hand, and now\nthe hem of His garment, appeared to be the vehicles of His power, we\ncan discern the significance of these divers ways, and learn great\nlessons from them all.\n\nHis touch was sometimes obviously the result of what one may venture\nto call instinctive tenderness, as when He lifted the little children\nin His arms and laid His hands upon their heads. It was, I suppose,\nalways the spontaneous expression of love and compassion, even when it\nwas something more. The touch of His hand on the ghastly glossiness of\nthe leper's skin was, no doubt, His assertion of priestly functions,\nand of elevation above all laws of defilement; but what was it to the\npoor outcast, who for years had never felt the warm contact of flesh\nand blood? It always indicated that He Himself was the source of\nhealing and life. It always expressed His identification of Himself\nwith sorrow and sickness. So that it is in principle analogous to, and\nmay be taken as illustrative of, that transcendent act whereby He\n'became flesh, and dwelt among us.' Indeed, the very word by which our\nLord's taking the blind man by the hand is described in the chapter\nfollowing our text, is that employed in the Epistle to the Hebrews\nwhen, dealing with the true brotherhood of Jesus, the writer says, 'He\ntook not hold of angels, but of the seed of Abraham He taketh hold.'\nChrist's touch is His willing contact with man's infirmities and sins,\nthat He may strengthen and hallow.\n\nAnd the lesson is one of universal application. Wherever men would\nhelp their fellows, this is a prime requisite, that the would-be\nhelper should come down to the level of those whom he desires to aid.\nIf we wish to teach, we must stoop to think the scholar's thoughts.\nThe master who has forgotten his boyhood will have poor success. If we\nwould lead to purer emotions, we must try to enter into the lower\nfeelings which we labour to elevate. It is of no use to stand at the\nmouth of the alleys we wish to cleanse, with our skirts daintily\ngathered about us, and smelling-bottle in hand, to preach homilies on\nthe virtues of cleanliness. We must go in among the filth, and handle\nit, if we want to have it cleared away. The degraded must feel that we\ndo not shrink from them, or we shall do them no good. The leper,\nshunned by all, and ashamed of himself because everybody loathes him,\nhungers in his hovel for the grasp of a hand that does not care for\ndefilement, if it can bring cleansing. Even in regard to common\nmaterial helps the principle holds good. We are too apt to cast our\ndoles to the poor like bones to a dog, and then to wonder at what we\nare pleased to think men's ingratitude. A benefit may be so conferred\nas to hurt more than a blow; and we cannot be surprised if so-called\ncharity which is given with contempt and a sense of superiority,\nshould be received with a scowl, and chafe a man's spirit like a\nfetter. Such gifts bless neither him who gives nor him who takes. We\nmust put our hearts into them, if we would win hearts by them. We must\nbe ready, like our Master, to take blind beggars by the hand, if we\nwould bless or help them. The despair and opprobrium of our modern\ncivilisation; the gulf growing wider and deeper between Dives and\nLazarus, between Belgravia and Whitechapel; the mournful failure of\nlegalised help, and of delegated efforts to bridge it over, the\ndarkening ignorance, the animal sensuousness, the utter heathenism\nthat lives in every town of England, within a stone's-throw of\nChristian houses, and near enough to hear the sound of public\nworship--will yield to nothing but that sadly forgotten law which\nenjoins personal contact with the sinful and the suffering, as one\nchief condition of raising them from the black mire in which they\nwelter.\n\nBut the same law has its special application in regard to the\nenterprise of Christian missions.\n\nIt defines the spirit in which Christian men should proclaim the\nGospel. The effect of much well-meant Christian effort is simply to\nirritate. People are very quick to catch delicate intonations which\nreveal a secret sense, 'how much better, wiser, more devout I am than\nthese people!' and wherever a trace of that appears in our work, the\ngood of it is apt to be marred. We all know how hackneyed the charge\nof spiritual pride and Pharisaic self-complacency is, and, thank God,\nhow unjust it often is. But averse as men may be to the truths which\nhumble, and willing as they may be to assume that the very effort on\nour parts to present these to others implies a claim which they\nresent, we may at least learn from the threadbare calumny, what\nstrikes men about our position, and what rouses their antagonism to\nus. It is allowable to be taught by our enemies, especially when it is\nsuch a lesson as this, that we must carefully divest our evangelistic\nwork of apparent pretensions to superiority, and take our stand by the\nside of those to whom we speak. We cannot lecture men into the love of\nChrist, We can win them to it only by showing Christ's love to them;\nand not the least important element in that process is the exhibition\nof our own love. We have a Gospel to speak of which the very heart is\nthat the Son of God stooped to become one with the lowliest and most\nsinful; and how can that Gospel be spoken with power unless we too\nstoop like Him? We have to echo the invitation, 'Learn of Me, for I am\nlowly in heart'; and how can such divine words flow from lips into\nwhich like grace has not been poured? Our theme is a Saviour who\nshrank from no sinner, who gladly consorted with publicans and\nharlots, who laid His hand on pollution, and His heart, full of God\nand of love, on hearts reeking with sin; and how can our message\ncorrespond with our theme if, even in delivering it, we are saying to\nourselves, 'The Temple of the Lord are we: this people which knoweth\nnot the law is cursed'? Let us beware of the very real danger which\nbesets us in this matter, and earnestly seek to make ourselves one\nwith those whom we would gather into Christ, by actual familiarity\nwith their condition, and by identification of ourselves in feeling\nwith them, after the example of that greatest of Christian teachers\nwho became 'all things to all men, that by all means he might gain\nsome'; after the higher example, which Paul followed, of that dear\nLord who, being Highest, descended to the lowest, and in the days of\nHis humiliation was not content with speaking words of power from\nafar, nor abhorred the contact of mortality and disease and loathsome\ncorruption; but laid His hands upon death, and it lived; upon\nsickness, and it was whole; on rotting leprosy, and it was sweet as\nthe flesh of a little child.\n\nThe same principle might be further applied to our Christian work, as\naffecting the form in which we should present the truth. The\nsympathetic identification of ourselves with those to whom we try to\ncarry the Gospel will certainly make us wise to know how to shape our\nmessage. Seeing with their eyes, we shall be able to graduate the\nlight. Thinking their thoughts, and having in some measure succeeded,\nby force of sheer community of feeling, in having, as it were, got\ninside their minds, we shall unconsciously, and without effort, be led\nto such aspects of Christ's all-comprehensive truth as they most need.\nThere will be no shooting over people's heads, if we love them well\nenough to understand them. There will be no toothless generalities,\nwhen our interest in men keeps their actual condition and temptations\nclear before us. There will be no flinging fossil doctrines at them\nfrom a height, as if Christ's blessed Gospel were, in another than the\nliteral sense, 'a stone of offence,' if we have taken our place on\ntheir level. And without such sympathy, these and a thousand other\nweaknesses and faults will certainly vitiate much of our Christian\neffort.\n\nLet me not be misunderstood when I speak of adapting our presentation\nof the Gospel to the wants of those to whom we carry it. That general\nstatement may express the plainest dictate of Christian prudence or\nthe most dangerous practical error. The one great truth of the Gospel\nwants no adaptation, by our handling, to any soul of man. It is fitted\nfor all, and demands only plain, loving, earnest statement. There must\nbe no tampering with central verities, nor any diplomatic reserve on\nthe plea of consulting the needs of the men whom we address. Every\nsinful spirit needs the simple Gospel of salvation by Jesus Christ\nmore than it needs anything else. Nor does adaptation mean deferential\nstretching a point to meet man's wishes in our presentation of the\ntruth. Their wishes have to be contravened, that their wants may be\nmet. The truth which a man or a generation requires most is the truth\nwhich he or it likes least; and the true Christian teacher's\nadaptation of his message will consist quite as much in opposing the\ndesires and contradicting the lies, as in seeking to meet the felt\nwants, of the world. Nauseous medicines or sharp lancets are adapted\nto the sick man, quite as truly as pleasant food and soothing\nointment.\n\nBut remembering all this, we still have a wide field for the operation\nof practical wisdom and loving common-sense, in determining the form\nof our message and the manner of our action. And not the least\nimportant of qualifications for solving the problems connected\ntherewith is cheerful identification of ourselves with the thoughts\nand feelings of those whom we would fain draw to the love of God. Such\ncontact with men will win their hearts, as well as soften ours, It\nwill make them willing to hear, as well as us wise to speak. It will\nenrich our own lives with wide experience and multiplied interests. It\nwill lift us out of the enchanted circle which selfishness draws\naround us. It will silently proclaim the Lord from whom we have learnt\nit. The clasp of the hand will be precious, even apart from the virtue\nthat may flow from it, and may be to many a soul burdened with a\nconsciousness of corruption, the dawning of belief in a love that does\nnot shrink even from its foulness. Let us preach the Lord's touch as\nthe source of all cleansing. Let us imitate it in our lives, that 'if\nany will not hear the word, they may without the word be won.'\n\nIV. We have here the true healing power and the consciousness of\nwielding it set forth in the Lord's authoritative word.\n\nAll the rest of His action was either the spontaneous expression of\nHis true participation in human sorrow, or a merciful veiling of His\nglory that sense-bound eyes might see it the better. But the word was\nthe utterance of His will, and that was omnipotent. The hand laid on\nthe sick, the blind or the deaf was not even the channel of His power.\nThe bare putting forth of His energy was all-sufficient. In these we\nsee the loving, pitying man. In this blazes forth, yet more loving,\nyet more compassionate, the effulgence of manifest God. Therefore so\noften do we read the very syllables with which His 'voice then shook\nthe earth,' vibrating through all the framework of the material\nuniverse. Therefore do the Gospels bid us listen when He rebukes the\nfever, and it departs; when He says to the demons 'Go,' and they go;\nwhen one word louder in its human articulation than the howling wind\nhushes the surges; when 'Talitha cumi' brings back the fair young\nspirit from dreary wanderings among the shades of death. Therefore was\nit a height of faith not found in Israel when the Gentile soldier,\nwhose training had taught him the power of absolute authority, as\nheathenism had driven him to long for a man who should speak with the\nimperial sway of a god, recognised in His voice an all-commanding\npower. From of old, the very signature of divinity has been declared\nto be, 'He spake, and it was done'; and He, the breath of whose lips\ncould set in motion material changes, is that Eternal Word, by whom\nall things were made.\n\nWhat unlimited consciousness of sovereign dominion sounds in that\nimperative from His autocratic lips! It is spoken in deaf ears, but He\nknows that it will be heard. He speaks as the fontal source, not as\nthe recipient channel, of healing. He anticipates no delay, no\nresistance. There is neither effort nor uncertainty in the curt\ncommand. He is sure that He has power, and He is sure that the power\nis His own.\n\nThere is no analogy here between us and Him. Alone, fronting the whole\nrace of man, He stands--utterer of a word which none can say after\nHim, possessor of unshared might, 'and of His fulness do all we\nreceive.' But even from that divine authority and solitary sovereign\nconsciousness we may gather lessons of infinite value for all\nChristian workers. Of His fulness we _have_ received, and the power of\nthe word on His lips may teach us that of His word even on ours, as\nthe victorious certainty with which He spake His will of healing may\nremind us of the confidence with which it becomes us to proclaim His\nname.\n\nHis will was almighty then. Is it less mighty or less loving now? Does\nit not gather all the world in the sweep of its mighty purpose of\nmercy? His voice pierced then into the dull, cold ear of death, and\nhas it become weaker since? His word spoken _by_ Him was enough to\nbanish the foul spirits that run riot, swine-like, in the garden of\nGod in man's soul, trampling down and eating up its flowers and\nfruitage; is the word spoken _of_ Him less potent to cast them out?\nWere not all the mighty deeds which He wrought by the breath of His\nlips on men's bodies prophecies of the yet mightier ones which His\nWill of love, and the utterance of that Will by stammering lips, may\nwork on men's souls? Let us not in our faintheartedness number up our\nfailures, the deaf that will not hear, the dumb that will not speak\nHis praise, nor unbelievingly say, 'Christ's own word was mighty, but\nthe word concerning Christ is weak on our lips.' Not so; our lips are\nunclean, and our words are weak, but His word--the utterance of His\nloving Will that men should be saved--is what it always was and always\nwill be. We have it, brethren, to proclaim. Did our Master countenance\nthe faithless contrast between the living force of His word when He\ndwelt on earth, and the feebleness of it as He speaks through His\nservant? If He did, what did He mean when He said, 'He that believeth\non Me, the works that I do shall he do also, and greater works than\nthese shall he do, because I go unto the Father'?\n\nAnd the reflection of Christ's triumphant consciousness of power\nshould irradiate our spirits as we do His work, like the gleam from\ngazing on God's glory which shone on the lawgiver's stern face while\nhe talked with men. We have everything to assure us that we cannot\nfail. The manifest fitness of the Gospel to be the food of all souls;\nthe victories of nineteen centuries, which at least prove that all\nconditions of society, all classes of civilisation, all varieties of\nrace, all peculiarities of individual temperament, all depths of\ndegradation and distances of alienation, are capable of receiving the\nword, which, like corn, can grow in every latitude, and, though it be\nan exotic everywhere, can anywhere be naturalised; the firm promises\nof unchanging faithfulness, the universal aspect of Christ's work, the\nprevalence of His continual intercession, the indwelling of His\nabiding Spirit, and, not least, the unerring voice of our own\nexperience of the power of the truth to bless and save--all these are\nours. In view of these, what should make us doubt? Unwavering\nconfidence is the only attitude that corresponds to such certainties.\nWe have a rock to build on; let us build on it _with_ rock. Putting\nfear and hesitancy far from us, let us gird ourselves with the joyful\nstrength of assured victory, striking as those who know that conquest\nis bound to their standard, and who through all the dust of the field\nsee the fair vision of the final triumph. The work is done before we\nbegin it. 'It is finished' was a clarion blast proclaiming that all\nwas won when all seemed lost. Weary ages have indeed to roll away\nbefore the great voice from heaven shall declare, 'It is done'; but\nall that lies between the two is but the gradual unfolding and\nappropriating of the results which are already secured. The 'strong\nman' is bound; what remains is but the 'spoiling of his house.' The\nhead is bruised; what remains is but the dying lashing of the snaky\nhorror's powerless coils. 'I send you to reap that whereon ye bestowed\nno labour.' The tearful sowing in the stormy winter's day has been\ndone by the Son of Man. For us there remains the joy of harvest--hot\nand hard work, indeed, but gladsome too.\n\nThen, however languor and despondency may sometimes tempt us, thinking\nof slow advancement and of dying men who fade from the place of the\nliving before the gradual light has reached their eyes, our duty is\nplain--to be sure that the word we carry cannot fail. You remember the\nold story how, when Jerusalem was in her hour of direst need, and the\narmy of Babylon lay around her battered walls, the prophet was bid to\nbuy 'the field that is in Anathoth, in the country of Benjamin,' for a\nsign that the transient fury of the invader would be beaten back, that\nIsrael might again dwell safely in the land. So with us, the host of\nour King's enemies comes up like a river strong and mighty; but all\nthis world, held though it be by the usurper is still 'Thy land, O\nImmanuel,' and over it all Thy peaceful rule shall be established!\n\nMany things in this day tempt the witnesses of God to speak with\ndoubting voice. Angry opposition, contemptuous denial, complacent\nassumption that a belief in old-fashioned evangelical truth is, _ipso\nfacto_, a proof of mental weakness, abound. Let them not rob us of our\nconfidence. Shame on us if we let ourselves be frightened from it by a\nsarcasm or a laugh! Do you fall back on all these grounds for assured\nreliance to which I have referred, and make the good old answer yours,\n'Why, herein is a marvellous thing, that ye know not whence He is, and\nyet--He hath opened mine eyes'!\n\nTrust the word which you have to speak. Speak it and work for its\ndiffusion as if you did trust it. Do not preach it as if it were a\nnotion of your own. In so far as it is, it will share the fate of all\nhuman conceptions of divine realities--'will have its day, and cease\nto be.' Do not speak it as if it were some new nostrum for curing the\nills of humanity, which might answer or might not. Speak it as if it\nwere what it is--'the word of God which liveth and abideth for ever.'\nSpeak it as if you were what you are, neither its inventors nor its\ndiscoverers, but only its messengers, who have but to 'preach the\npreaching which He bids' you. And to all the widespread questionings\nof this day, filmy and air-filling as the gossamers of an autumn\nevening, to all the theories of speculation, and all the panaceas of\nunbelieving philanthropy, present the solid certainties of your inmost\nexperience, and the yet more solid certainty of that all-loving name\nand all-sufficient work on which these repose. '_We know_ that we are\nof God, and the whole world lieth in wickedness. And we know that the\nSon of God is come.' Then our proclamation, 'This is the true God and\neternal life,' will not be in vain; and our loving entreaty, 'Keep\nyourselves from idols,' will be heard and yielded to in many a land.\n\nThe sum of the whole matter is briefly this. The root of all our\nefficiency in this great task to which we, unworthy, have been called,\nis in fellowship with Jesus Christ. 'The branch cannot bear fruit of\nitself; without Me ye can do nothing.' Living near Him, and growing\nlike Him by gazing upon Him, His beauty will pass into our faces, His\ntender pity into our hearts, His loving identification of Himself with\nmen's pains and sins will fashion our lives; and the word which He\nspoke with authority and assured confidence will be strong when we\nspeak it with like calm certainty of victory. If the Church of Christ\nwill but draw close to her Lord till the fulness of His life and the\ngentleness of His pity flow into her heart and limbs, she will then be\nable to breathe the life which she has received into the prostrate\nbulk of a dead world. Only she must do as the meekest of the prophets\ndid in a like miracle. She must not shrink from the touch of the cold\nclay nor the odour of incipient corruption, but lip to lip and heart\nto heart must lay herself upon the dead and he will live.\n\nThe pattern for our work, dear brethren, is before us in the Lord's\nlook, His sigh, His touch, His word. If we take Him for the example,\nand Him for the motive, Him for the strength, Him for the theme, Him\nfor the reward, of our service, we may venture to look to Him as the\nprophecy of our success, and to be sure that when our own faint hearts\nor an unbelieving world question the wisdom of our enterprise or the\nworth of our efforts, we may answer as He did, 'Go and show again\nthose things which ye do hear and see; the blind receive their sight,\nand the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the\ndead are raised up, and the poor have the Gospel preached unto them.'\n\n\n\nTHE PATIENT TEACHER, AND THE SLOW SCHOLARS\n\n\n'And when Jesus knew It, He saith unto them, Why reason ye, because ye\nhave no bread? perceive ye not yet, neither understand? have ye your\nheart yet hardened? 18. Having eyes, see ye not? having ears, hear ye\nnot? and do ye not remember?'--Mark viii. 17,18.\n\nHow different were the thoughts of Christ and of His disciples, as\nthey sat together in the boat, making their way across the lake! He\nwas pursuing a train of sad reflections which, the moment before their\nembarkation, had caused Him to sigh deeply in His spirit and say, 'Why\ndoth this generation seek after a sign?' Absorbed in thought, He\nspoke, 'Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees,' who had been asking\nthat question.\n\nSo meditated and spoke Jesus in the stern, and amidships the\ndisciples' thoughts were only concerned about the negligent omission,\nvery excusable in the hurry of embarkation, by which they had\nforgotten to lay in a fresh supply of provisions, and had set sail\nwith but one loaf left in the boat. So taken up were they with this\npetty trouble that they twisted the Master's words as they fell from\nHis lips, and thought that He was rebuking them for what they were\nrebuking themselves for. So apt are we to interpret others' sayings by\nthe thoughts uppermost in our own minds.\n\nAnd then our Lord poured out this altogether unusual--perhaps I may\nsay unique--hail of questions which indicate how deeply moved from His\nordinary calm He was by this strange slowness of apprehension on the\npart of His disciples. There is no other instance that I can recall in\nthe whole Gospels, with the exception of Gethsemane, where our Lord's\nwords seem to indicate such agitation of the windless sea of His\nspirit as this rapid succession of rebuking interrogations. They give\na glimpse into the depths of His mind, showing us what He generally\nkept sacredly shut up, and let us see how deeply He was touched and\npained by the slowness of apprehension of His servants.\n\nLet us look at these questions as suggesting to us two things--the\ngrieved Teacher and the slow scholars.\n\nI. The grieved Teacher.\n\nI have said that the revelation of the depths of our Lord's experience\nhere is unexampled. We can understand the mood of which it is the\nutterance; the feeling of despair that sometimes comes over the most\npatient instructor when he finds that all his efforts to hammer some\ntruth into, or to print some impression on, the brain or heart of man\nor boy, have been foiled, and that years, it may be, of patient work\nhave scarcely left more traces on unretentive minds than remain on the\nocean of the passage through it of a keel.\n\nChrist felt that; and I do not think we half enough realise how large\nan element in the sorrows of the Man of Sorrows, and of the grief with\nwhich He was acquainted, was His necessary association with people\nwho, He felt, did not in the least degree understand Him, however\ntruly, blindly, and almost animally, they might love Him. It was His\ndisciples' misconception that stung him most. If I might so say, He\n_calculated_ upon being misunderstood by Pharisees and outsiders, but\nthat these followers who had been gathered round about Him all these\nmonths, and had been the subjects of His sedulous toil, should blurt\nout such words as these which precede the question of my text, cut\ndeep into that loving heart. It was not only the pain of being\nmisunderstood, but also the pain of feeling that the people who cared\nmost for Him did not understand Him, and were so hard to drag up to\nthe level where they could even catch a glimpse of His meaning, that\nstruck His heart with almost a kind of despair; and, as I said, made\nHim pour out this rain of questions.\n\nAnd what do the questions suggest? Not only emotion very unusual in\nHim, yet truly human, and showing Him to be our Brother; but they\nsuggest three distinct types of emotion, all of them dashed with pain.\n\n'Why reason ye? Having eyes, see ye not? Do ye not remember?' That\nspeaks of His astonishment. Do not start at the word, or suppose that\nit in any degree contradicts the lofty beliefs that I suppose most of\nus have with regard to the Deity of our Lord and Saviour. We find in\nanother place in the Gospels, not by inference as here, but in plain\nwords, the ascription to Him of wonder; 'He marvelled at their\nunbelief.' And we read of a more blessed kind of surprise as having\nonce been His, when He wondered at the faith of the heathen centurion.\nBut here His astonishment is that after all these years of toil, and\nof sympathy, and of discipleship, and of listening and trying to get\nhold of His meaning, His disciples were so far away from any\nunderstanding of what He was driving at. He had to learn by experience\nthe depths of men's stupidity and ignorance. And although He was the\nWord of God made flesh, we recognise here the token of a true brother\nin that He was capable not only of the physical feelings of weariness,\nand hunger, and thirst, and pain, but that He, too, had that emotion\nwhich only a limited understanding can have--the emotion of wonder.\nAnd it was drawn out by His disciples' denseness and inertness.\n\nAh! dear friends, does He not wonder at us? One of the prophets says,\n'Be astonished, O heavens!' And be sure of this, that the manhood of\nJesus Christ is not now so lifted up above what it was upon earth as\nthat that same sensation--twin-sister to yours and mine--of surprise,\ndoes not sometimes visit Him when He looks down upon us; and has to\nsay to us--as, alas! He has to say--what He once said to one of the\nTwelve, 'Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not\nknown me, Philip?' Is not the same question coming to us? Why is it\nthat we do not understand?\n\nWonder, then, is the first emotion that is expressed in this question.\nThere is another one: Pain. And there again I fall back not upon\ninference, but upon plain words of another part of the Gospels. 'He\nlooked round upon them with anger, being _grieved_ at the hardness of\ntheir hearts.' It seems daring to venture to say that the exalted and\nglorified humanity of Jesus Christ to-day is, in any measure, capable\nof feeling analogous to that; but it will not seem so daring if you\nremember the solemn charge of one of the Apostles, 'Grieve not the\nHoly Spirit of God.' It is Christ's disciples that pain Him most.\n'They vexed His Holy Spirit, therefore He fought against them.'\nBrethren, let us look into our own hearts and our own lives, and ask\nourselves if there is not something there that gives a pang even to\nthe heart of the glorified Master, and makes Him sigh deeply within\nHimself?\n\nMay I add one more emotion which seems to me to be unmistakably\nexpressed by this rapid fusilade of questions? That is indignation.\nAgain I fall back upon plain words: 'He looked round about upon them\nwith anger, being grieved.' The two things were braided together in\nHis heart, and did not conflict with each other There were infinite\nsorrow, infinite pity, and real displeasure. You must take all notions\nof passion and of malignity, and of desire to do harm to the subject,\nout of the conception of anger as applied to God or to Christ who is\nthe revelation of God. But it seems to me that it is a maimed Christ\nthat we put before the world unless we say that in the Love there lie\nthe possibilities of Wrath. 'Behold the Lion of the tribe of Judah,\nand I beheld, and lo! a Lamb!' Wrath and gentleness are in Him\ninseparably united, neither of them limiting nor making impossible the\nother.\n\nSo here we have a self-revelation, as by one glimpse into a great\nchamber, of the deep heart of Christ, the great Teacher, moved to\nastonishment, grief, and indignation.\n\nII. Now let me say a word about the slow scholars.\n\nI have spoken of these questions as being rapid and repeated, and as a\nrain of what we may almost call fiery interrogation. But they are by\nno means tautology or useless and aimless repetition. If we look at\nthem closely, I think we shall see that they open out to us several\ndifferent sides and phases of the fault in His disciples that moves\nthese emotions.\n\nThere is, first, His scholars' stolid insensibility, which moves Him\nto anger, to astonishment, and to grief. 'Are your hearts yet\nhardened?' by which is meant, not hardened in the sense of being\nsuddenly and stiffly set in antagonism to Him, but simply in the sense\nof being--may I use the word?--so pachydermatous, so thick-skinned,\nthat nothing can go through them. They showed it is a dull, stolid\ninsensibility, and it marks some of us professing Christians, on whom\npromises and invitations and revelations of truth all fall with equal\nineffectiveness, and from whom they glide off with equal rapidity. You\nmay rain upon a black basalt rock to all eternity, and nothing will\ngrow upon it. All the drops will run down the polished sides, and a\nquarter of an inch below the surface it will be as dry as it was\nbefore the first drop fell. And here are we Christian ministers,\ntalk--talk--talking, week in and week out; and here is Christ, by His\nprovidences and by His word, speaking far more loudly than any of us;\nand it all falls with absolute impotence on hosts of people that call\nthemselves Christians. Ah! brethren, it is not only unbelievers who\nhave their hearts hardened. Orthodox professors are often guilty of\nthe same. If I might alter the metaphor, many of us have waterproofed\nour minds, and the ingredients of the mixture by which we have\nwaterproofed them are our knowledge of 'the plan of salvation,' our\nconnection with a Christian community, our membership in a church, our\nobedience to the formalisms of the devout life. All these have only\nmade a non-transmitting medium interposed between ourselves and the\nconcentrated electric energy that ever flashes from Jesus Christ. Our\nhardened hearts, with their stolid insensibility, amaze our Master,\nand no wonder that they do.\n\nBut that is not all. There is not only what I have ventured to call\nstolid insensibility, but, as a result of it, there is the not using\nthe capacities that we have. 'Having eyes, see ye not? Having ears,\nhear ye not?' We are not like children that cannot, but like careless,\nuntrained schoolboys that will not, learn. We have the capacity, and\nit is our own fault that we are dunces in the school, and at the\nbottom of the class. Use the power that you have, and 'unto him that\nhath shall be given, and he shall have in abundance.' There are fishes\nin the caverns of North America that have lived so long in the dark,\nunderground channels, that the present generation of them has no eyes.\nWe are doing our best to deprive ourselves of our capacities of\nbeholding by refusing to use them. 'Having eyes, see ye not?' Our\nnon-use of the powers we have amazes and grieves our Master.\n\nFurther, the reason why there are this stolid insensibility and this\nnon-use of capacity lies here: 'Ye reason about the bread.' The\nabsorption of our minds and efforts and time with material things,\nthat perish with the using, come in between us and our apprehension of\nChrist's teaching. Ah! brethren, it is not only the rich man that is\nswallowed up with the present world; the poor man may be so as really.\nAll of us, by reason of the absolute necessities of our lives, are in\ndanger of getting our hearts so filled and crowded with the things\nthat are 'seen and temporal' that we have no time, nor room, for the\nthings that are 'unseen and eternal.' I do not need to elaborate that\npoint. We all know that it is there that our danger, in various forms,\nlies. If you in the bows of the ship are reasoning about bread, you\nwill misunderstand Christ in the stern warning against 'the leaven of\nthe Pharisees.'\n\nThe last suggestion from these questions is that the cure for all that\nstolid insensibility, and its resulting misuse of capacity, and the\nabsorption in daily visible things, is remembrance of His and our\npast--'Do ye not remember?' It was only that same morning, or the day\nbefore at the furthest, that one of the miracles of feeding the\nthousands had been performed. Christ wonders, as well He might, at the\nshort memories of the disciples who, with the baskets-full of\nfragments scarcely eaten yet, could worry themselves because there was\nonly one loaf in the locker. 'Do ye not remember, when I broke the\nloaves among the thousands, how many baskets took ye up? And they\nsaid, seven. And He said, How is it that ye do not understand?' Yes,\nMemory is the one wing and Hope the other, that lift our heaviness\nfrom earth towards heaven. And any man who will bethink himself of\nwhat Jesus Christ has been for him, did for him on earth, and has done\nfor him during his life, will not be so absorbed in worldly cares as\nthat he will have no eyes to see the things unseen and eternal; and\nthe hard, dead insensibility of his heart will melt into thankful\nconsecration, and so he will rise nearer and nearer to intelligent\napprehension of the lofty and deep things that the Incarnate Word says\nto him. We are here in Christ's school, and it depends upon the place\nin the class that we take here where we shall be put at what\nschoolboys call the 'next remove.' If here we have indeed 'learned of\nHim the truth as it is in Jesus,' we shall be put up into the top\nclasses yonder, and get larger and more blessed lessons in the\nFather's house above.\n\n\n\nTHE RELIGIOUS USES OF MEMORY\n\n\n'Do ye not remember!'--Mark viii. 18.\n\nThe disciples had misunderstood our Lord's warning 'against the leaven\nof the Pharisees,' which they supposed to have been occasioned by\ntheir neglect to bring with them bread. Their blunder was like many\nothers which they committed, but it seems to have singularly moved our\nLord, who was usually so patient with His slow scholars. The swift\nrain of questions, like bullets rattling against a cuirass, of which\nmy text is one, shows how much He was moved, if not to impatience or\nanger, at least to wonder.\n\nBut what I wish particularly to notice is that He traces the\ndisciples' slowness of perception and distrust mainly to\nforgetfulness. There was a special reason for that, of course, in that\nthe two miracles of the feeding the multitude, one of which had just\nbefore occurred, ought to have delivered them from any uneasiness, and\nto have led them to apprehend His higher meaning.\n\nBut there is a wider reason for the collocation of questions than\nthis. There is no better armour against distrust, nor any surer purge\nof our spiritual sight, than religious remembrance. So my text falls\nin with what I hope are, or at any rate should be, thoughts which are\nbusy in many of our hearts now. Every Sunday is the last Sunday of a\nyear. But we are influenced by the calendar, even though there is\nnothing in reality to correspond with the apparent break, and though\ntime runs on in a continuous course. I would fain say a word or two\nnow which may fit in with thoughts that are wholesome for us always,\nbut, I suppose, come with most force to most of us at such a date as\nthis. And, if you will let me, I will put my observations in the form\nof exhortations.\n\nI. First of all, then, remember and be thankful.\n\nThere are few of us who have much time for retrospect, and there is a\nvery deep sense in which it is wise to 'forget the things that are\nbehind,' for the remembrance of them may burden us with a miserable\nentail of failure; may weaken us by vain regrets, may unfit us for\nenergetic action in the living and available present. But oblivion is\nfoolish, if it is continual, and a remembered past has treasures in it\nwhich we can little afford to lose.\n\nChiefest of these is the power of memory, when applied to our own past\nlives, to bring out, more clearly than was possible while that past\nwas being lived, the perception of the ever-present care and working\nof our Father, God. It is hard to recognise Him in the bustle and\nhurry of our daily lives, and the meaning of each event can only be\nseen when it is seen in its relation to the rest of a life. Just as a\nlandscape, which we may look at without the smallest perception of its\nbeauty, becomes another thing when the genius of a painter puts it on\ncanvas, and its symmetry and proportion become more manifest, and an\nethereal clearness broods over it, and its colours are seen to be\ndeeper than our eyes had discerned, so the common events of life,\ntrivial and insignificant while they are passing, become, when painted\non the canvas of memory, nobler and greater, and we understand them\nmore completely than we can do whilst we are living in them.\n\nWe need to be at the goal in order to judge of the road. The parts are\nonly explicable when we see the whole. The full interpretation of\nto-day is reserved for eternity. But, by combining and massing and\npresenting the consequences of the apparently insignificant and\nisolated events of the past, memory helps us to a clearer perception\nof God, and a better understanding of our own lives, On the\nmountain-summit a man can look down all along the valley by which he\nhas wearily plodded, and understand the meaning of the divergences in\nthe road, and the rough places do not look quite so rough when their\nproportion to the whole is a little more clearly in his view.\n\nOnly, brethren, if we are wisely to exercise remembrance, and to\ndiscover God in the lives which, whilst they are passing, had little\nperception of Him, we must take into account what the meaning of all\nlife is--that is, to make men of us after the pattern of His will.\n\n  'Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,\n  Is our destined end or way.'\n\nBut the growth of Christlike and God-pleasing character is the divine\npurpose, and should be the human aim, of all lives. Our tasks, our\njoys, our sorrows, our gains, our losses--these are all but the\nscaffolding, and the scaffolding is only there in order that, course\nupon course, may rise the temple-palace of a spirit, devoted to,\nshaped and inhabited by, our Father, God.\n\nSo I venture to say that thankful remembrance should exclude no single\nincident, however bitter, however painful, of any life. There is a\nremembrance of vanished hands, of voices for ever stilled, which is\naltogether wrong and weakening. There is a regret, a vain regret which\ncomes with memory for some of us, that interferes with thankfulness.\n\nBut it is possible--and, if we understand that the meaning of all is\nto make us Godlike, it is not hard--to remember vanished joys, and to\nconfer upon them by remembrance a kind of gentle immortality. And,\nthus remembered, they are ennobled; for all the gross material body of\nthem, as it were, is got rid of, and only the fine spirit is left. The\nroses bloom, and over bloom, and drop, but a poignant perfume is\ndistilled from the fallen petals. The departed are greatened by\ndistance; when they are gone we recognise the 'angels' that we\n'entertained unawares': and that recognition is no illusion, but it is\nthe disclosure of their real character, to which they were sometimes\nuntrue, and we were often blind. Therefore I say, 'Thou shalt remember\nall the way by which the Lord thy God hath led thee,' and in the\nthankfulness include departed joys, vanished hands, present sorrows,\nthe rough places as well as the smooth, the crooked things as well as\nthe straight.\n\nII. Secondly, let me say, remember and repent.\n\nMemory is not wise unless it is, so to speak, the sergeant-at-arms of\nConscience, and brings our past before the bar of that judge within,\nand puts into the hands of that judge the law of the Lord by which to\nestimate our deeds. We all have been making up our accounts to the\n31st of December--or are going to do it to-morrow. And what I plead\nfor is that we should take stock of our own characters and aims, and\nsum up our accounts with duty and with God.\n\nWe look back upon a past, of which God gave us the warp and we had to\nput in the woof. The warp is all bright and pure. The threads that\nhave crossed it from our shuttles are many of them very dark, and all\nof them stained in some part. So, dear brethren, let us take the year\nthat has gone, and spread them out by the agency of this servant of\nthe court, Memory, before the supreme judge, Conscience.\n\nLet us remember that we may be warned and directed. We shall\nunderstand the true moral character of our actions a great deal better\nwhen we look back upon them calmly, and when all the rush of\ntemptation and the reducing whispers of our own weak wills are\nsilenced. There is nothing more terrible, in one aspect, there is\nnothing more salutary and blessed in another, than the difference\nbetween the front and the back view of any temptation to which we\nyield--all radiant and beautiful on the hither side, and when we get\npast it and look back at it, all hideous. Like some of those painted\ncanvases upon the theatre-stage: seen from this side, with the\ndelusive brilliancy of the footlights thrown upon them, they look\nbeautiful works of art; seen at the back, dirty and cobwebbed canvas,\nall splashes and spots and uglinesses. Let us be thankful if memory\ncan show us the reverse side of the temptations that on the near side\nwere so seductive.\n\nIt is when you see your life in retrospect that you understand the\nsignificance of the single deeds in it. We are so apt to isolate our\nactions that we are startled--and it is a wholesome shock--when we see\nhow, without knowing it, we have dropped into a habit. When each\ntemptation comes, as the moments are passing, we say, 'Oh, just this\nonce, just this once.' And the '_onces_' come nearer and nearer\ntogether; and what seem to be distinctly separated points, coalesce\ninto a line; and the acts that we thought isolated we find out to our\nhorror--our wholesome horror--have become a chain that binds and holds\nus. Look back over the year, and drag its events to the bar of\nConscience, and I shall be surprised if you do not discover that you\nhave fallen into wrong habits that you never dreamed had dominion over\nyou. So, I say, remember and repent.\n\nBrethren, I do not wish to exaggerate, I do not wish to urge upon you\none-sided views of your character or conduct. I give all credit to\nmany excellences, many acts of sacrifice, many acts of service; and\nyet I say that the main reason why any of us have a good opinion of\nourselves is because we have no knowledge of ourselves; and that the\nsafest attitude for all of us, in looking back over what we have made\nof life, is, hands on mouths, and mouths in dust, and the cry coming\nfrom them, 'Unclean! unclean!' A little mud in a stream may not be\nperceptible when you take a wine-glassful of it and look at it, but if\nyou saw a river-full or a lake-full you would soon discover the taint.\nSummon up the past year to the sessions of silent thought, and let the\nlight of God's will pour in upon it, and you will find how dark has\nbeen the flow of the river of your lives.\n\nThe best use which the memory can serve for us is that it should drive\nus closer to Jesus Christ, and make us cling more closely to Him. That\npast can be cancelled, these multitudinous sins can be forgiven.\nMemory should be one of the strongest strands in the cord that binds\nour helplessness to the all-forgiving and all-cleansing Christ.\n\nIII. Lastly, let me say, remember and hope.\n\nMemory and Hope are twins. The latter can only work with the materials\nsupplied by the former. Hope could paint nothing on the blank canvas\nof the future unless its palette were charged by Memory. Memory brings\nthe yarn which Hope weaves.\n\nOur thankful remembrance of a past which was filled and moulded by\nGod's perpetual presence and care ought to make us sure of a future\nwhich will in like manner be moulded. 'Thou hast been my help'--if we\ncan say that, then we may confidently pray, and be sure of the answer,\n'Leave me not nor forsake me, O God of my salvation.' And if we feel,\nas memory teaches us to feel, that God has been working for us, and\nwith us, we can say with another Psalmist: 'Thy mercy, O Lord,\nendureth for ever. Forsake not the work of Thine own hands'; and we\ncan rise to his confidence, 'The Lord with perfect that which\nconcerneth me.'\n\nOur remembrance, even of our imperfections and our losses and our\nsorrows, may minister to our hope. For surely the life of every man on\nearth, but most eminently the life of a Christian man, is utterly\nunintelligible, a mockery and a delusion and an incredibility, if\nthere be a God at all, unless it prophesies of a region in which\nimperfection will be ended, aspirations will be fulfilled, desires\nwill be satisfied. We have so much, that unless we are to have a great\ndeal more, we had better have had nothing. We have so much, that if\nthere be a God at all, we must have a great deal more. The new moon,\nwith a ragged edge, 'even in its imperfection beautiful,' is a prophet\nof the complete resplendent orb. 'On earth the broken arc, in heaven\nthe perfect round.'\n\nFurther, the memory of defeat may be the parent of the hope of\nvictory. The stone Ebenezer, 'Hitherto hath the Lord helped us,' was\nset up to commemorate a victory that had been won on the very site\nwhere Israel, fighting the same foes, had once been beaten. There is\nno remembrance of failure so mistaken as that which takes the past\nfailure as certain to be repeated in the future. Surely, though we\nhave fallen seventy times seven--that is 490, is it not?--at the 491st\nattempt we may, and if we trust in God we shall, succeed.\n\nSo, brethren, let us set our faces to a new year with thankful\nremembrance of the God who has shaped the past, and will mould the\nfuture. Let us remember our failures, and learn wisdom and humility\nand trust in Christ from our sins. Let us set our 'hope on God, and\nnot forget the works of God, but keep His commandments.'\n\n\n\nTHE GRADUAL HEALING OF THE BLIND MAN\n\n\n'And Jesus cometh to Bethsaida; and they bring a blind man unto Him,\nand besought Him to touch him. 23. And He took the blind man by the\nhand, and led him out of the town; and when He had spit on his eyes,\nand put His hands upon Him, He asked him if he saw ought. 24. And he\nlooked up, and said, I see men as trees, walking. 25. After that He\nput His hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up: and he was\nrestored, and saw every man clearly.'--Mark viii. 22-25.\n\nThis miracle, which is only recorded by the Evangelist Mark, has about\nit several very peculiar features. Some of these it shares with one\nother of our Lord's miracles, which also is found only in this Gospel,\nand which occurred nearly about the same time--that miracle of healing\nthe deaf and dumb man recorded in the previous chapter. Both of them\nhave these points in common: that our Lord takes the sufferer apart\nand works His miracle in privacy; that in both there is an abundant\nuse of the same singular means--our Lord's touch and the saliva upon\nHis finger; and that in both there is the urgent injunction of entire\nsecrecy laid upon the recipient of the benefit.\n\nBut this miracle had another peculiarity in which it stands absolutely\nalone, and that is that the work is done in stages; that the power\nwhich at other times has but to speak and it is done, here seems to\nlabour, and the cure comes slowly; that in the middle Christ pauses,\nand, like a physician trying the experiment of a drug, asks the\npatient if any effect is produced, and, getting the answer that some\nmitigation is realised, repeats the application, and perfect recovery\nis the result.\n\nNow, how unlike that is to all the rest of Christ's miraculous working\nwe do not need to point out; but the question may arise, What is the\nmeaning, and what the reason, and what the lessons of this unique and\nanomalous form of miraculous working? It is to that question that I\nwish to turn now; for I think that the answer will open up to us some\nvery precious things in regard to that great Lord, the revelation of\nwhose heart and character is the inmost and the loftiest meaning of\nboth His words and His works.\n\nI take these three points of peculiarity to which I have referred: the\nprivacy, the strange and abundant use of means veiling the miraculous\npower, and the gradual, slow nature of the cure. I see in them these\nthree things: Christ isolating the man that He would heal; Christ\nstooping to the sense-bound nature by using outward means; and Christ\nmaking His power work slowly, to keep abreast of the man's slow faith.\n\nI. First, then, here we have Christ isolating the man whom He wanted\nto heal.\n\nNow, there may have been something about our Lord's circumstances and\npurposes at the time of this miracle which accounted for the great\nurgency with which at this period He impressed secrecy upon all around\nHim. What that was it is not necessary for us to inquire here, but\nthis is worth noticing, that in obedience to this wish, on His own\npart, for privacy at the time, He covers over with a veil His\nmiraculous working, and does it quietly, as one might almost say, in a\ncorner. He never sought to display His miraculous working; here He\nabsolutely tries to hide it. That fact of Christ's taking pains to\nconceal His miracle carries in it two great truths--first, about the\npurpose and nature of miracles in general, and second, about His\ncharacter--as to each of which a few words may be said.\n\nThis fact, of a miracle done in intended secrecy, and shrouded in deep\ndarkness, suggests to us the true point of view from which to look at\nthe whole subject of miracles.\n\nPeople say they were meant to be attestations of His divine mission.\nYes, no doubt that is true partially; but that was never the sole nor\neven the main purpose for which they were wrought; and when any one\nasked Jesus Christ to work a miracle for that purpose only, He rebuked\nthe desire and refused to gratify it. He wrought His miracles, not\ncoldly, in order to witness to His mission, but every one of them was\nthe token, because it was the outcome, of His own sympathetic heart\nbrought into contact with human need. And instead of the miracles of\nJesus Christ being cold, logical proofs of His mission, they were all\nglowing with the earnestness of a loving sympathy, and came from Him\nat sight of sorrow as naturally as rays beam out from the sun.\n\nThen, on the other hand, the same fact carries with it, too, a lesson\nabout His character. Is not He here doing what He tells us to do; 'Let\nnot thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth'? He dares not wrap\nHis talent in a napkin, He would be unfaithful to His mission if He\nhid His light under a bushel. All goodness 'does good by stealth,'\neven if it does not 'blush to find it fame'--and that universal mark\nof true benevolence marked His. He had to solve in His human life what\nwe have to solve, the problem of keeping the narrow path between\nostentation of powers and selfish concealment of faculty; and He\nsolved it thus, 'leaving us an example that we should follow in His\nsteps.'\n\nBut that is somewhat aside from the main purpose to which I intended\nto turn in these first remarks. Christ did not invest the miracle with\nany of its peculiarities for His own sake only. All that is singular\nabout it, will, I think, find its best explanation in the condition\nand character of the subject, the man on whom it was wrought. What\nsort of a man was he? Well, the narrative does not tell us much, but\nif we use our historical imagination and our eyes we may learn\nsomething about him. First he was a Gentile; the land in which the\nmiracle was wrought was the half-heathen country on the east side of\nthe Sea of Galilee. In the second place, it was other people that\nbrought him; he did not come of his own accord. Then again, it is\ntheir prayer that is mentioned, not his--he asked nothing.\n\nYou see him standing there hopeless, listless; not believing that this\nJewish stranger is going to do anything for him; with his impassive\nblind face glowing with no entreaty to reinforce his companions'\nprayers. And suppose he was a man of that sort, with no expectation of\nanything from this Rabbi, how was Christ to get at him? It is of no\nuse to speak to him. His eyes are shut, so cannot see the sympathy\nbeaming in His face. There is one thing possible--to lay hold of Him\nby the hand; and the touch, gentle, loving, firm, says this at least:\n'Here is a man that has some interest in me, and whether He can do\nanything or not for me, He is going to try something.' Would not that\nkindle an expectation in him? And is it not in parable just exactly\nwhat Jesus Christ does for the whole world? Is not that act of His by\nwhich He put out His hand and seized the unbelieving limp hand of the\nblind man that hung by his side, the very same in principle as that by\nwhich He 'taketh hold of the seed of Abraham,' and is made like to His\nbrethren? Are not the mystery of the Incarnation and the meaning of it\nwrapped up as in a germ in that little simple incident, 'He put out\nHis hand and touched him'?\n\nIs there not in it, too, a lesson for all you good-hearted Christian\nmen and women, in all your work? If you want to do anything for your\nafflicted brethren, there is only one way to do it-to come down to\ntheir level and get hold of their hands, and then there is some chance\nof doing them good. We must be content to take the hands of beggars if\nwe are to make the blind to see.\n\nAnd then, having thus drawn near to the man, and established in his\nheart some dim expectation of something coming, He gently led him away\nout of the little village. I wonder no painter has ever painted that,\ninstead of repeating _ad nauseam_ two or three scenes out of the\nGospels. I wonder none of them has ever seen what a parable it is--the\nChrist leading the blind man out into solitude before He can say to\nhim, 'Behold!' How, as they went, step by step, the poor blind eyes\nnot telling the man where they were going, or how far away he was\nbeing taken from his friends, his conscious dependence upon this\nstranger would grow! How he would feel more and more at each step, 'I\nam at His mercy; what is He going to do with me?' And how thus there\nwould be kindled in his heart some beginnings of an expectation, as\nwell as some surrendering of himself to Christ's guidance! These two\nthings, the expectation and the surrender, have in them, at all\nevents, some faint beginnings and rude germs of the highest faith, to\nlead up to which is the purpose of all that Christ here does.\n\nAnd is not that what He does for us all? Sometimes by sorrows,\nsometimes by sick-beds, sometimes by shutting us out from chosen\nspheres of activity, sometimes by striking down the dear ones at our\nsides, and leaving us lonely in the desert-is He not saying to us in a\nthousand ways, 'Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place'? As\nIsrael was led into the wilderness that God might 'speak to her\nheart,' so often Christ draws us aside, if not by outward providences\nsuch as these, yet by awaking in us the solemn sense of personal\nresponsibility and making us feel our solitude, that He may lead us to\nfeel His all-sufficient companionship.\n\nAh! brethren, here is a lesson from all this--if you wish Jesus Christ\nto give you His highest gifts and to reveal to you His fairest beauty,\nyou must be alone with Him. He loves to deal with single souls. Our\nlives, many of them, can never be outwardly alone. We are jammed up\nagainst one another in such a fashion, and the hurry and pressure of\ncity life is so great with us all, that it is often impossible for us\nto secure outward secrecy and solitude. But a man maybe alone in a\ncrowd; the heart may be gathered up into itself, and there may be a\nstill atmosphere round about us in the shop and in the market and\namongst the busy ways of men, in which we and Christ shall be alone\ntogether. Unless there be, I do not think any of us will see the King\nin His beauty or the far-off land. 'I was left alone, and I saw this\ngreat vision,' is the law for all true beholding.\n\nSo, dear brethren, try to feel how awful this earthly life of ours is\nin its necessary solitude; that each of us by himself must shape out\nhis own destiny, and make his own character; that every unit of the\nswarms upon our streets is a unit that has to face the solemn facts of\nlife for and by itself; that alone we live, that alone we shall die;\nthat alone we shall have to give account of ourselves before God, and\nin the solitude let the hand of your heart feel for His hand that is\nstretched out to grasp yours, and listen to Him saying, 'Lo! I am with\nyou always, even to the end of the world.' There was no dreariness in\nthe solitude when it was _Christ_ that 'took the blind man by the hand\nand led him out of the city.'\n\nII. We have Christ stooping to a sense-bound nature by the use of\nmaterial helps.\n\nNo doubt there was something in the man, as I have said, which made it\nadvisable that these methods should be adopted. If he were the sort of\nperson that I have described, slow of faith, not much caring about the\npossibility of cure, and not having much hope that any cure would come\nto pass--then we can see the fitness of the means adopted: the hand\nlaid upon the eyes, the finger, possibly moistened with saliva,\ntouching the ball, the pausing to question, the repeated application.\nThese make a ladder by which his hope and confidence might climb to\nthe apprehension of the blessing. And that points to a general\nprinciple of the divine dealings. God stoops to a feeble faith, and\ngives to it outward things by which it may rise to an apprehension of\nspiritual realities.\n\nIs not that the meaning of the whole complicated system of Old\nTestament revelation? Is not that the meaning of the altars, and\npriests, and sacrifices, and the old cumbrous apparatus of the Mosaic\nlaw? Was it not all a picture-book in which the infant eyes of the\nrace might see in a material form deep spiritual realities? Was not\nthat the meaning and explanation of our Lord's parabolic teaching? He\nveils spiritual truth in common things that He may reveal it by common\nthings--taking fishermen's boats, their nets, a sower's basket, a\nbaker's dough, and many another homely article, and finding in them\nthe emblems of the loftiest truth.\n\nIs not that the meaning of His own Incarnation? It is of no use to\ntalk to men about God--let them see Him; no use to preach about\nprinciples--give them the facts of His life. Revelation does not\nconsist in the setting forth of certain propositions about God, but in\nthe exhibition of the acts of God in a human life.\n\n  'And so the Word had breath, and wrought\n  With human hands the creed of creeds.'\n\nAnd still further, may we not say that this is the inmost meaning and\npurpose of the whole frame of the material universe? It exists in\norder that, as a parable and a symbol, it may proclaim the things that\nare unseen and eternal. Its depths and heights, its splendours and its\nenergies are all in order that through them spirits may climb to the\napprehension of the 'King, eternal, immortal, invisible,' and the\nrealities of His spiritual kingdom.\n\nSo in regard to all the externals of Christianity, forms of worship,\nordinances, and so on--all these, in like manner, are provided in\ncondescension to our weakness, in order that by them we may be lifted\nabove themselves; for the purpose of the Temple is to prepare for the\ntime and the place where the seer 'saw no temple therein.' They are\nbut the cups that carry the wine, the flowers whose chalices bear the\nhoney, the ladders by which the soul may climb to God Himself, the\nrafts upon which the precious treasure may be floated into our hearts.\n\nIf Christ's touch and Christ's saliva healed, it was not because of\nanything in them; but because He willed it so; and He Himself is the\nsource of all the healing energy. Therefore, let us keep these\nexternals in their proper place of subordination, and remember that in\nHim, not in them, lies the healing power; and that even Christ's touch\nmay become the object of superstitious regard, as it was when that\npoor woman came through the crowd to lay her finger on the hem of His\ngarment, thinking that she could bear away a surreptitious blessing\nwithout the conscious outgoing of His power. He healed her because\nthere was a spark of faith in her superstition, but she had to I earn\nthat it was not the hem of the garment but the loving will of Christ\nthat cured, in order that the dross of superstitious reliance on the\noutward vehicle might be melted away, and the pure gold of faith in\nHis love and power might remain.\n\nIII. Lastly, we have Christ accommodating the pace of His power to the\nslowness of the man's faith.\n\nThe whole story, as I have said, is unique, and especially this part\nof it--'He put His hands upon him, and asked him if he saw aught.' One\nmight have expected an answer with a little more gratitude in it, with\na little more wonder in it, with a little more emotion in it. Instead\nof these it is almost surly, or at any rate strangely reticent-a\nmatter-of-fact answer to the question, and there an end. As our\nRevised Version reads it better: 'I see men, for I behold them as\ntrees walking.' Curiously accurate! A dim glimmer had come into the\neye, but there is not yet distinctness of outline nor sense of\nmagnitude, which must be acquired by practice. The eye has not yet\nbeen educated, and it was only because these blurred figures were in\nmotion that he knew they were not trees. 'After that He put His hands\nupon his eyes and made him look up,' or, as the Revised Version has it\nwith a better reading, 'and he looked steadfastly,' with an eager\nstraining of the new faculty to make sure that he had got it, and to\ntest its limits and its perfection. 'And he was restored and saw all\nthings clearly.'\n\nNow I take it that the worthiest view of that strangely protracted\nprocess, broken up into two halves by the question that is dropped\ninto the middle, is this, that it was determined by the man's faith,\nand was meant to increase it. He was healed slowly because he believed\nslowly. His faith was a condition of his cure, and the measure of it\ndetermined the measure of the restoration; and the rate of the growth\nof his faith settled the rate of the perfecting of Christ's work on\nhim. As a rule, faith in His power to heal was a condition of Christ's\nhealing, and that mainly because our Lord would rather make men\nbelieving than sound of body. They often wanted only the outward\nmiracle, but He wanted to make it the means of insinuating a better\nhealing into their spirits. And so, not that there was any necessary\nconnection between their faith and the exercise of His miraculous\npower, but in order that He might bless them with His best gifts, He\nusually worked on the principle 'According to your faith be it unto\nyou.' And here, as a nurse or a mother with her child might do, He\nkeeps step with the little steps, and goes slowly because the man goes\nslowly.\n\nNow, both the gradual process of illumination and the rate of that\nprocess as determined by faith, are true for us. How dim and partial a\nglimmer of light comes to many a soul at the outset of the Christian\nlife! How little a new convert knows about God and self and the starry\ntruths of His great revelation! Christian progress does not consist in\nseeing new things, but in seeing the old things more clearly: the same\nChrist, the same Cross, only more distinctly and deeply apprehended,\nand more closely incorporated into my very being. We do not grow away\nfrom Him, but we grow into knowledge of Him. The first lesson that we\nget is the last lesson that we shall learn, and He is the 'Alpha' at\nthe beginning, and the 'Omega' at the end of that alphabet, the\nletters of which make up our knowledge for earth and heaven.\n\nBut then let me remind you that just in the measure in which you\nexpect blessing of any kind, illumination and purifying and help of\nall sorts from Jesus Christ, just in that measure will you get it. You\ncan limit the working of Almighty power, and can determine the rate at\nwhich it shall work on you. God fills the water-pots 'to the brim,'\nbut not beyond the brim; and if, like the woman in the Old Testament\nstory, we stop bringing vessels, the oil will stop flowing. It is an\nawful thing to think that we have the power, as it were, to turn a\nstopcock, and so increase or diminish, or cut off altogether, the\nsupply of God's mercy and Christ's healing and cleansing love in our\nhearts. You will get as much of God as you want and no more. The\nmeasure of your desire is the measure of your capacity, and the\nmeasure of your capacity is the measure of God's gift. 'Open thy mouth\nwide and I will fill it!' And if your faith is heavily shod and steps\nslowly, His power and His grace will step slowly along with it,\nkeeping rank and step. 'According to your faith shall it be unto you.'\n\nAh! dear friends, 'Ye are not straitened in Me, ye are straitened in\nyourselves.' Desire Him to help and bless you, and He will do it.\nExpect Him to do it, and He will do it. Go to Him like the other blind\nman and say to Him--'Jesus, Thou Son of David, have mercy on me, that\nI may receive my sight,' and He will lay His hand upon you, and at any\nrate a glimmer will come, which will grow in the measure of your\nhumble, confident desire, until at last He takes you by the hand and\nleads you out of this poor little village of a world and lays His\nfinger for a brief moment of blindness upon your eyes and asks you if\nyou see aught. Then you will look up, and the first face that you will\nbehold will be His, whom you saw 'as through a glass darkly' with your\ndim eyes in this twilight world.\n\nMay that be your experience and mine, through His mercy!\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S CROSS, AND OURS\n\n\n'And Jesus went out, and His disciples, into the towns of Caesarea\nPhilippi: and by the way He asked His disciples, saying unto them,\nWhom do men say that I am? 28. And they answered, John the Baptist:\nbut some say, Elias; and others, One of the prophets. 29. And He saith\nunto them, But whom say ye that I am? And Peter answereth and saith\nunto Him, Thou art the Christ. 30. And He charged them that they\nshould tell no man of Him. 31. And He began to teach them, that the\nSon of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected of the elders, and\nof the chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and after three days\nrise again. 32. And He spake that saying openly. And Peter took Him,\nand began to rebuke Him. 33. But when He had turned about and looked\non His disciples, He rebuked Peter, saying, Get thee behind me, Satan:\nfor thou savourest not the things that be of God, but the things that\nbe of men. 34. And when He had called the people unto Him with His\ndisciples also, He said unto them, Whosoever will come after Me, let\nhim deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. 35. For\nwhosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose\nhis life for My sake and the gospel's, the same shall save it. 36 For\nwhat shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose\nhis own soul? 37. Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?\n38. Whosoever therefore shall be ashamed of Me and of My words in this\nadulterous and sinful generation; of him also shall the Son of Man be\nashamed, when He cometh in the glory of His Father with the holy\nangels. IX. 1. And He said unto them, Verily I say unto you, That\nthere be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death,\ntill they have seen the kingdom of God come with power.'--Mark viii.\n27-ix. 1.\n\n\nOur Lord led His disciples away from familiar ground into the\ncomparative seclusion of the country round Caesarea Philippi, in order\nto tell them plainly of His death. He knew how terrible the\nannouncement would be, and He desired to make it in some quiet spot,\nwhere there would be collectedness and leisure to let it sink into\ntheir minds. His consummate wisdom and perfect tenderness are equally\nand beautifully shown in His manner of disclosing the truth which\nwould try their faithfulness and fortitude. From the beginning He had\ngiven hints, gradually increasing in clearness; and now the time had\ncome for full disclosure. What a journey that was! He, with the heavy\nsecret filling His thoughts; they, dimly aware of something absorbing\nHim, in which they had no part. And at last, 'in the way,' as if moved\nby some sudden impulse--like that which we all know, leading us to\nspeak out abruptly what we have long waited to say--He gives them a\nshare in the burden of His thought. But, even then, note how He leads\nup to it by degrees. This passage has the announcement of the Cross as\nits centre, prepared for, on the one hand, by a question, and\nfollowed, on the other, by a warning that His followers must travel\nthe same road.\n\nI. Note the preparation for the announcement of the Cross (verses\n27-30). Why did Christ begin by asking about the popular judgment of\nHis personality? Apparently in order to bring clearly home to the\ndisciples that, as far as the masses were concerned, His work and\ntheirs had failed, and had, for net result, total misconception. Who\nthat had the faintest glimmer of what He was could suppose that the\nstern, fiery spirits of Elijah or John had come to life again in Him?\nThe second question, 'But whom say ye that I am?' with its sharp\ntransition, is meant to force home the conviction of the gulf between\nHis disciples and the whole nation. He would have them feel their\nisolation, and face the fact that they stood alone in their faith; and\nHe would test them whether, knowing that they did stand alone, they\nhad courage and tenacity to re-assert it. The unpopularity of a belief\ndrives away cowards, and draws the brave and true. If none else\nbelieved in Him, that was an additional reason for loving hearts to\ncleave to Him; and those only truly know and love Him who are ready to\nstand by Him, if they stand alone--_Athanasius contra mundum_. Mark,\ntoo, that this is the all-important question for every man. Our own\nindividual 'thought' of Him determines our whole worth and fate.\n\nMark gives Peter's confession in a lower key, as it were, than Matthew\ndoes, omitting the full-toned clause, 'The Son of the living God.'\nThis is not because Mark has a lower conception than his brother\nEvangelist, for the first words of this Gospel announce that it is\n'the Gospel of Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God.' And, as he has\nidentified the two conceptions at the outset, he must, in all\nfairness, be supposed to consider that the one implies the other, and\nto include both here. But possibly there is truth in the observation\nthat the omission is one of a number of instances in which this Gospel\npasses lightly over the exalted side of Christ's nature, in accordance\nwith its purpose of setting Him forth rather as the Servant than as\nthe Lord. It is not meant that that exalted side was absent from\nMark's thoughts, but that his design led him rather to emphasise the\nother. Matthew's is the Gospel of the King; Mark's, of the Worker.\n\nThe omission of Christ's eulogium on Peter has often been pointed out\nas an interesting corroboration of the tradition that he was Mark's\nsource; and perhaps the failure to record the praise, and the\ncarefulness to tell the subsequent rebuke, reveal the humble-hearted\n'elder' into whom the self-confident young Apostle had grown. Flesh\ndelights to recall praise; faith and self-knowledge find more profit\nin remembering errors forgiven and rebukes deserved, and in their\nseverity, most loving. How did these questions and their answers serve\nas introduction to the announcement of the Cross? In several ways.\nThey brought clearly before the disciples the hard fact of Christ's\nrejection by the popular voice, and defined their own position as\nsharply antagonistic. If His claims were thus unanimously tossed\naside, a collision must come. A rejected Messiah could not fail to be,\nsooner or later, a slain Messiah. Then clear, firm faith in His\nMessiahship was needed to enable them to stand the ordeal to which the\nannouncement, and, still more, its fulfilment, would subject them. A\nsuffering Messiah might be a rude shock to all their dreams; but a\nsuffering Jesus, who was not Messiah, would have been the end of their\ndiscipleship. Again, the significance and worth of the Cross could\nonly be understood when seen in the light of that great confession.\nEven as now, we must believe that He who died was the Son of the\nliving God before we can see what that Death was and did. An imperfect\nconception of who Jesus is takes the meaning and the power out of all\nHis life, but, most of all, impoverishes the infinite preciousness of\nHis Death.\n\nThe charge of silence contrasts singularly with the former employment\nof the Apostles as heralds of Jesus. The silence was partly punitive\nand partly prudential. It was punitive, inasmuch as the people had\nalready had abundantly the proclamation of His gospel, and had cast it\naway. It was in accordance with the solemn law of God's retributive\njustice that offers rejected should be withdrawn; and from them that\nhad not, even that which they had should be taken away. Christ never\nbids His servants be silent until men have refused to hear their\nspeech. The silence enjoined was also prudential, in order to avoid\nhastening on the inevitable collision; not because Christ desired\nescape, but because He would first fulfil His day.\n\nII. We have here the announcement of the Cross (verses 31-33). There\nhad been many hints before this; for Christ saw the end from the\nbeginning, however far back in the depths of time or eternity we place\nthat beginning. We do not sufficiently realise that His Death was\nbefore Him, all through His days, as the great purpose for which He\nhad come. If the anticipation of sorrow is the multiplication of\nsorrow, even when there is hope of escaping it, how much must His have\nbeen multiplied, and bitterness been diffused through all His life, by\nthat foresight, so clear and constant, of the certain end! How much\nmore gracious and wonderful His quick sympathy, His patient self\nforgetfulness, His unwearied toil, show against that dark background!\n\nMark here the solemn necessity. Why 'must' He suffer? Not because of\nthe enmity of the three sets of rejecters. He recognises no necessity\nwhich is imposed by hostile human power. The cords which bind this\nsacrifice to the horns of the altar were not spun by men's hands. The\ngreat 'must' which ruled His life was a cable of two strands--obedience\nto the Father, and love to men. These haled Him to the\nCross, and fastened Him there. He would save; therefore He 'must' die.\nThe same 'must' stretches beyond death. Resurrection is a part of His\nwhole work; and, without it, His Death has no power, but falls into\nthe undistinguished mass of human mortality. Bewildered as the\ndisciples were, that assurance of resurrection had little present\nforce, but even then would faintly hint at some comfort and blessed\nmystery. What was to them a nebulous hope is to us a sun of certitude\nand cheer, 'Christ that died' is no gospel until you go on to say,\n'Yea, rather, that is risen again.'\n\nPeter's rash 'rebuke,' like most of his appearances in the Gospel, is\nstrangely compounded of warm-hearted, impulsive love and presumptuous\nself-confidence. No doubt, the praise which he had just received had\nturned his head, not very steady in these early days at its best, and\nthe dignity which had been promised him would seem to him to be sadly\noverclouded by the prospect opened in Christ's forecast. But he was\nnot thinking of himself; and when he said, 'This shall not be unto\nThee,' probably he meant to suggest that they would all draw the sword\nto defend their Master. Mark's use of the word 'rebuke,' which is also\nMatthew's, seems to imply that he found fault with Christ. For what?\nProbably for not trusting to His followers' arms, or for letting\nHimself become a victim to the 'must,' which Peter thought of as\ndepending only on the power of the ecclesiastics in Jerusalem. He\nblames Christ for not hoisting the flag of a revolt.\n\nThis blind love was the nearest approach to sympathy which Christ\nreceived; and it was repugnant to Him, so as to draw the sharpest\nwords from Him that He ever spoke to a loving heart. In his eagerness,\nPeter had taken Jesus on one side to whisper his suggestion; but\nChrist will have all hear His rejection of the counsel. Therefore He\n'turned about,' facing the rest of the group, and by the act putting\nPeter behind Him, and spoke aloud the stern words. Not thus was He\nwont to repel ignorant love, nor to tell out faults in public; but the\nact witnessed to the recoil of His fixed spirit from the temptation\nwhich addressed His natural human shrinking from death, as well as to\nHis desire that once for all, every dream of resistance by force\nshould be shattered. He hears in Peter's voice the tone of that other\nvoice, which, in the wilderness, had suggested the same temptation to\nescape the Cross and win the crown by worshipping the Devil; and he\nputs the meaning of His instinctive gesture into the same words in\nwhich he had rejected that earlier seducing suggestion. Jesus was a\nman, and 'the things that be of men' found a response in His sinless\nnature. It shrank from pain and the Cross with innocent and inevitable\nshrinking. Does not the very severity of the rebuke testify to its\nhaving set some chords vibrating in His soul? Note that it may be the\nwork of 'Satan' to appeal to 'the things that be of men,' however\ninnocent, if by so doing obedience to God's will is hindered. Note,\ntoo, that a Simon may be 'Peter' at one moment, and 'Satan' at the\nnext.\n\nIII. We have here the announcement of the Cross as the law for the\ndisciples too (verses 34-38). Christ's followers must follow, but men\ncan choose whether they will be His followers or not. So the 'must' is\nchanged into 'let him,' and the 'if any man will' is put in the\nforefront. The conditions are fixed, but the choice as to accepting\nthe position is free. A wider circle hears the terms of discipleship\nthan heard the announcement of Christ's own sufferings. The terms are\nfor all and for us. The law is stated in verse 34, and then a series\nof reasons for it, and motives for accepting it, follow.\n\nThe law for every disciple is self-denial and taking up his cross. How\npresent His own Cross must have been to Christ's vision, since the\nthought is introduced here, though He had not spoken of it, in\nforetelling His own death! It is not Christ's Cross that we have to\ntake up. His sufferings stand alone, incapable of repetition and\nneeding none; but each follower has his own. To slay the life of self\nis always pain, and there is no discipleship without crucifying 'the\nold man.' Taking up my cross does not merely mean meekly accepting\nGod-sent or men-inflicted sorrows, but persistently carrying on the\nspecial form of self-denial which my special type of character\nrequires. It will include these other meanings, but it goes deeper\nthan they. Such self-immolation is the same thing as following Christ;\nfor, with all the infinite difference between His Cross and ours, they\nare both crosses, and on the one hand there is no real discipleship\nwithout self-denial, and on the other there is no full self-denial\nwithout discipleship.\n\nThe first of the reasons for the law, in verse 35, is a paradox, and a\ntruth with two sides. To wish to save life is to lose it; to lose it\nfor Christ's sake is to save it. Both are true, even without taking\nthe future into account. The life of self is death; the death of the\nlower self is the life of the true self. The man who lives absorbed in\nthe miserable care for his own well-being is dead to all which makes\nlife noble, sweet, and real. Flagrant vice is not needed to kill the\nreal life. Clean, respectable selfishness does the work effectually.\nThe deadly gas is invisible, and has no smell. But while all\nselfishness is fatal, it is self-surrender and sacrifice, 'for My sake\nand the gospel's,' which is life-giving. Heroism, generous\nself-devotion without love to Christ, is noble, but falls short of\ndiscipleship, and may even aggravate the sin of the man who exhibits\nit, because it shows what treasures he could lay at Christ's feet, if\nhe would. It is only self-denial made sweet by reference to Him that\nleads to life. Who is this who thus demands that He should be the\nmotive for which men shall 'hate' their own lives, and calmly assumes\npower to reward such sacrifice with a better life? The paradox is\ntrue, if we include a reference to the future, which is usually taken\nto be its only meaning; but on that familiar thought we need not\nenlarge.\n\nThe 'for' of verse 36 seems to refer back to the law in verse 34, and\nthe verse enforces the command by an appeal to self-interest, which,\nin the highest sense of the word, dictates self-sacrifice. The men who\nlive for self are dead, as Christ has been saying. Suppose their\nself-living had been 'successful' to the highest point, what would be\nthe good of all the world to a dead man? 'Shrouds have no pockets.' He\nmakes a poor bargain who sells his soul for the world. A man gets\nrich, and in the process drops generous impulses, affections, interest\nin noble things, perhaps principle and religion. He has shrivelled and\nhardened into a mere fragment of himself; and so, when success comes,\nhe cannot much enjoy it, and was happier, poor and sympathetic and\nenthusiastic and generous, than he is now, rich and dwindled. He who\nloses himself in gaining the world does not win it, but is mastered by\nit. This motive, too, like the preceding, has a double application--to\nthe facts of life here, when they are seen in their deepest reality,\nand to the solemn future.\n\nTo that future our Lord passes, as His last reason for the command and\nmotive for obeying it, in verse 38. One great hindrance to out-and-out\ndiscipleship is fear of what the world will say. Hence come\ncompromises and weak compliance on the part of disciples too timid to\nstand alone, or too sensitive to face a sarcasm and a smile. A\nwholesome contempt for the world's cackle is needed for following\nChrist. The geese on the common hiss at the passer-by who goes\nsteadily through the flock. How grave and awful is that irony, if we\nmay call it so, which casts the retribution in the mould of the sin!\nThe judge shall be 'ashamed' of such unworthy disciples--shall blush\nto own such as His. May we venture to put stress on the fact that He\ndoes not say that He will reject them? They who were ashamed of Him\nwere secret and imperfect disciples. Perhaps, though He be ashamed of\nthem, though they have brought Him no credit, He will not wholly turn\nfrom them.\n\nHow marvellous the transition from the prediction of the Cross to this\nof the Throne! The Son of Man must suffer many things, and the same\nSon of Man shall come, attended by hosts of spirits who own Him for\ntheir King, and surrounded by the uncreated blaze of the glory of God\nin which He sits throned as His native abode. We do not know Jesus\nunless we know Him as the crucified Sacrifice for the world's sins,\nand as the exalted Judge of the world's deeds.\n\nHe adds a weighty word of enigmatical meaning, lest any should think\nthat He was speaking only of some far-off judgment. The destruction of\nJerusalem seems to be the event intended, which was, in fact, the\nbeginning of retribution for Israel, and the starting-point of a more\nconspicuous manifestation of the kingdom of God. It was, therefore, a\nkind of rehearsal, or picture in little, of that coming and ultimate\ngreat day of the Lord, and was meant to be a 'sign' that it should\nsurely come.\n\n\n\nTHE TRANSFIGURATION\n\n\n'And after six days Jesus taketh with Him Peter, and James, and John,\nand leadeth them up into an high mountain apart by themselves: and He\nwas transfigured before them. 3. And His raimemt became shining,\nexceeding white as snow; so as no fuller on earth can white them. 4.\nAnd there appeared unto them Elias with Moses: and they were talking\nwith Jesus. 5. And Peter answered and said to Jesus, Master, it is\ngood for us to be here: and let us make three tabernacles; one for\nThee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias. 6. For he wist not what to\nsay; for they were sore afraid. 7. And there was a cloud that\novershadowed them: and a voice came out of the cloud, saying, This is\nMy beloved Son: hear Him. 8. And suddenly, when they had looked round\nabout, they saw no man any more, save Jesus only with themselves. 9.\nAnd as they came down from the mountain, He charged them that they\nshould tell no man what things they had seen, till the Son of Man were\nrisen from the dead. 10. And they kept that saying with themselves,\nquestioning one with another what the rising from the dead should\nmean. 11. And they asked Him, saying, Why say the scribes that Elias\nmust first come? 12. And He answered and told them, Elias verily\ncometh first, and restoreth all things; and how it is written of the\nSon of Man, that He must suffer many things, and be set at nought. 13.\nBut I say unto you, That Elias is indeed come, and they have done unto\nhim whatsoever they listed, as it is written of him.'--Mark ix. 2-13.\n\nAll three Evangelists are careful to date the Transfiguration by a\nreference to the solemn new teaching at Caesarea, and Mark's 'six\ndays' plainly cover the same time as Luke's 'eight'--the former\nreckoning excluding in the count, and the latter including, the days\non which the two incidents occurred. If we would understand the\nTransfiguration, then, we must look at it as the sequel to Jesus' open\nannouncement of His death. His seeking the seclusion of the hills,\nattended only by the innermost group of the faithful three, is a\ntouching token of the strain to which that week had subjected Him. How\nPeter's heart must have filled with thankfulness that, notwithstanding\nthe stern rebuke, he was taken with the other two! There were three\nstages in the complex incident which we call the Transfiguration--the\nchange in Jesus' appearance, the colloquy with Moses and Elijah, and\nthe voice from the cloud.\n\nLuke, who has frequent references to Jesus' prayers, tells us that the\nchange in our Lord's countenance and raiment took place 'as He\nprayed'; and probably we are reverently following his lead if we think\nof Jesus' prayer as, in some sense, the occasion of the glorious\nchange. So far as we know, this was the only time when mortal eyes saw\nHim absorbed in communion with the Father. It was only 'when He ceased\npraying' in a certain place that 'they came to Him' asking to be\ntaught to pray (Luke xi. 1); and in Gethsemane the disciples slept\nwhile He prayed beneath the olives quivering in the moonlight. It may\nbe that what the three then saw did not occur then only. 'In such an\nhour of high communion with' His Father the elevated spirit may have\nmore than ordinarily illuminated the pure body, and the pure body may\nhave been more than ordinarily transparent. The brighter the light,\nfed by fragrant oil within an alabaster lamp, the more the alabaster\nwill glow. Faint foreshadowings of the spirit's power to light up the\nface with unearthly beauty of holiness are not unknown among us. It\nmay be that the glory which always shone in the depths of His\nperfectly holy manhood rose, as it were, to the surface for that one\ntime, a witness of what He really was, a prophecy of what humanity may\nbecome.\n\nDid Jesus will His transfiguration, or did it come about without His\nvolition, or perhaps even without His consciousness? Did it continue\nduring all the time on the mountain, or did it pass when the second\nstage of the incident began? We cannot tell. Matthew and Mark both say\nthat Jesus was transfigured 'before' the three, as if the making\nvisible of the glory had special regard to them. It may be that Jesus,\nlike Moses, 'knew not that the skin of His face shone'; at all events,\nit was the second stage of the incident, the conversation with Elijah\nand Moses, that had a special message of strength for Him. The first\nand third stages were, apparently, intended for the three and for us\nall; and the first is a revelation, not only of the veiled glory that\ndwelt in Jesus, but of the beauty that may pass into a holy face, and\nof the possibilities of a bodily frame becoming a 'spiritual body,'\nthe adequate organ and manifestation of a perfect spirit. Paul teaches\nthe prophetic aspect of the Transfiguration when he says that Jesus\n'shall _change_ the body of our humiliation that it may be fashioned\nlike unto the body of His glory.'\n\nLuke adds two very significant points to the accounts by Matthew and\nMark--namely, the disciples' sleep, and the subject on which Moses and\nElijah talked with Jesus. Mark lays the main stress on the fact that\nthe two great persons of the old economy, its founder and its\nrestorer, the legislator and the chief of the prophets, came from the\ndim region to which one of them had passed in a chariot of fire, and\nstood by the transfigured Christ, as if witnessing to Him as the\ngreater, to whom their ministries were subordinate, and in whom their\nteachings centred. Jesus is the goal of all previous revelation,\nmightier than the mightiest who are honoured by being His attendants.\nHe is the Lord both of the dead and of the living, and the 'spirits of\njust men made perfect' bow before Him, and reverently watch His work\non earth.\n\nSo much did that appearance proclaim to the mortal three, but their\nslumber showed that they were not principally concerned, and that the\nother three had things to speak which they were not fit to hear. The\ntheme was the same which had been, a week before, spoken to them, and\nhad doubtless been the subject of all Jesus' teachings for these 'six\ndays.' No doubt, their horror at the thought, and His necessary\ninsistence on it, had brought Him to need strengthening. And these two\ncame, as did the angel in Gethsemane, and, like him, in answer to\nChrist's prayer, to bring the sought-for strength. How different it\nwould be to speak to them 'of the decease which He should accomplish\nat Jerusalem,' from speaking to the reluctant, protesting Twelve! And\nhow different to listen to them speaking of that miracle of divine\nlove expressed in human death from the point of view of the\n'principalities and powers in heavenly places,' as over against the\nremonstrances and misunderstandings with which He had been struggling\nfor a whole week! The appearance of Moses and Elijah teaches us the\nrelation of Jesus to all former revelation, the interest of the\ndwellers in heavenly light in the Cross, and the need which Jesus felt\nfor strengthening to endure it.\n\nPeter's foolish words, half excused by his being scarcely awake, may\nbe passed by with the one remark that it was like him to say\nsomething, though he did not know what to say, and that it would\ntherefore have been wise to say nothing.\n\nThe third part of this incident, the appearance of the cloud and the\nvoice from it, was for the disciples. Luke tells us that it was a\n'bright' cloud, and yet it 'overshadowed them.' That sets us on the\nright track and indicates that we are to think of the cloud of glory,\nwhich was the visible token of the divine presence, the cloud which\nshone lambent between the cherubim, the cloud which at last 'received\nHim out of their sight.' Luke tells, too, that 'they entered into it.'\nWho entered? Moses and Elijah had previously 'departed from Him.'\nJesus and the disciples remained, and we cannot suppose that the three\ncould have passed into that solemn glory, if He had not led them in.\nIn that sacred moment He was 'the way,' and keeping close to Him,\nmortal feet could pass into the glory which even a Moses had not been\nfit to behold. The spiritual significance of the incident seems to\nrequire the supposition that, led by Jesus, they entered the cloud.\nThey were men, therefore they were afraid; Jesus was with them,\ntherefore they stood within the circle of that light and lived.\n\nThe voice repeated the attestation of Jesus as the 'beloved Son' of\nthe Father, which had been given at the baptism, but with the\naddition, 'Hear Him,' which shows that it was now meant for the\ndisciples, not, as at the baptism, for Jesus Himself. While the\ncommand to listen to His voice as to the voice from the cloud is\nperfectly general, and lays all His words on us as all God's words, it\nhad special reference to the disciples, and that in regard to the new\nteaching which had so disturbed them--the teaching of the necessity\nfor His death. 'The offence of the Cross' began with the first clear\nstatement of it, and in the hearts that loved Him best and came most\nnear to understanding Him. To fail in accepting His teaching that it\n'behoved the Son of Man to suffer,' is to fail in accepting it in the\nmost important matter. There are sounds in nature too low-pitched to\nbe audible to untrained ears, and the message of the Cross is unheard\nunless the ears of the deaf are unstopped. If we do not hear Jesus\nwhen He speaks of His passion, we may almost as well not hear Him at\nall.\n\nMoses and Elijah had vanished, having borne their last testimony to\nJesus. Peter had wished to keep them beside Jesus, but that could not\nbe. Their highest glory was to fade in His light. They came, they\ndisappeared; He remained--and remains. 'They saw no man any more, save\nJesus only with themselves.' So should it be for us in life. So may it\nbe with us in death! 'Hear Him,' for all other voices are but for a\ntime, and die into silence, but Jesus speaks for eternity, and 'His\nwords shall not pass away.' When time is ended, and the world's\nhistory is all gathered up into its final issue, His name shall stand\nout alone as Author and End of all.\n\n\n\n'THIS IS MY BELOVED SON: HEAR HIM'\n\n\n'And there was a cloud that overshadowed them: and a voice came out of\nthe cloud, saying, This is My beloved Son: hear Him.'--Mark ix. 7.\n\nWith regard to the first part of these words spoken at the\nTransfiguration, they open far too large and wonderful a subject for\nme to do more than just touch with the tip of my finger, as it were,\nin passing, because the utterance of the divine words, 'This is My\nbeloved Son,' in all the depth of their meaning and loftiness, is laid\nas the foundation of the two words that come after, which, for us, are\nthe all-important things here. And so I would rather dwell upon them\nthan upon the mysteries of the first part, but a sentence must be\nspared. If we accept this story before us as the divine attestation of\nthe mystery of the person and nature of Jesus Christ, we must take the\nwords to mean--as these disciples, no doubt, took them to\nmean--something pointing to a unique and solitary revelation which He\nbore to the Divine Majesty. We have to see in them the confirmation of\nthe great truth that the manhood of Jesus Christ was the supernatural\ncreation of a direct divine power. 'Conceived of the Holy Ghost, born\nof the Virgin Mary'; therefore, 'that Holy Thing which shall be born\nof thee shall be called the Son of God.' And we have to go, as I take\nit, farther back than the earthly birth, and to say, 'No man hath seen\nGod at any time--the only begotten Son which is in the bosom of the\nFather.' He was the Son here by human birth, and was in the bosom of\nthe Father all through that human life. 'He hath declared Him,' and so\nnot only is there here the testimony to the miraculous incarnation,\nand to the true and proper Divinity and Deity of Jesus Christ, but\nthere is also the witness to the perfectness of His character in the\ngreat word, 'This is My beloved Son,' which points us to an unbroken\ncommunion of love between Him and the Father, which tells us that in\nthe depths of that divine nature there has been a constant play of\nmutual love, which reveals to us that in His humanity there never was\nanything that came as the faintest film of separation between His will\nand the will of the Father, between His heart and the heart of God.\n\nBut this revelation of the mysterious personality of the divine Son,\nthe perfect harmony between Him and God, is here given as the ground\nof the command that follows: 'Hear Him.' God's voice bids you listen\nto Christ's voice--God's voice bids you listen to Christ's voice as\nHis voice. Listen to Him when He speaks to you about God--do not trust\nyour own fancy, do not trust your own fear, do not trust the dictates\nof your conscience, do not consult man, do not listen to others, do\nnot speculate about the mysteries of the earth and the heavens, but go\nto Him, and listen to the only begotten Son in the bosom of the\nFather. He declares unto us God; in Him alone we have certain\nknowledge of a loving Father in heaven. Hear Him when He tells us of\nGod's tenderness and patience and love. Hear Him above all when He\nsays to us, 'As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so\nmust the Son of Man be lifted up.' Hear Him when He says, 'The Son of\nMan came to give His life a ransom for many.' Hear Him when He speaks\nof Himself as Judge of you and me and all the world, and when He says,\n'The Son of Man shall come in His glory, and before Him shall be\ngathered all nations.' Hear Him then. Hear Him when He calls you to\nHimself. Hear Him when He says to you, 'Come unto Me all ye that\nlabour and are heavy laden.' Hear Him when He says, 'If any man come\nunto Me he shall never thirst.' Hear Him when He says, 'Cast your\nburden upon Me, and I will sustain you.' Hear Him when He commands.\nHear Him when He says, 'If ye love Me keep My commandments,' and when\nHe says, 'Abide in Me and I in you,' hear Him then. 'In all time of\nour tribulation, in all time of our well-being, in the hour of death,\nand in the day of judgment,' let us listen to Him.\n\nDear friends there is no rest anywhere else; there is no peace, no\npleasure, no satisfaction--except close at His side. 'Speak Lord! for\nThy servant heareth.' 'To whom shall we go but unto Thee? Thou hast\nthe words of eternal life.' Look how these disciples, grovelling there\non their faces, were raised by the gentle hand laid upon their\nshoulder, and the blessed voice that brought them back to\nconsciousness, and how, as they looked about them with dazed eyes, all\nwas gone. The vision, the cloud, Moses and Elias--the lustre and\nradiance and the dread voice were past, and everything was as it used\nto be. Christ stood alone there like some solitary figure relieved\nagainst a clear daffodil sky upon some extended plain, and there was\nnothing else to meet the eye but He. Christ is there, and in Him is\nall.\n\nThat is a summing up of all Divine revelation. 'God, who at sundry\ntimes and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the\nprophets, hath, in these last days, spoken unto us by His Son.' Moses\ndies, Elijah fades, clouds and symbols and voices and all mortal\nthings vanish, but Jesus Christ stands before us, the manifest God,\nfor ever and ever, the sole illumination of the world, It is also a\nsumming up of all earthly history. All other people go. The beach of\ntime is strewed with wrecked reputations and forgotten glories. And I\nam not ashamed to say that I believe that, as the ages grow, and the\nworld gets further away in time from the Cross upon Calvary, more and\nmore everything else will sink beneath the horizon, and Christ alone\nbe left to fill the past as He fills the present and the future.\n\nWe may make that scene the picture of our lives. Distractions and\ntemptations that lie all round us are ever seeking to drag us away.\nThere is no peace anywhere but in having Christ only--my only pattern,\nmy only hope, my only salvation, my only guide, my only aim, my only\nfriend. The solitary Christ is the sufficient Christ, and that for\never. Take Him for your only friend, and you need none other. Then at\ndeath there may be a brief spasm of darkness, a momentary fear,\nperchance, but then the touch of a Brother's hand will be upon us as\nwe lie there prone in the dust, and we shall lift up our eyes, and lo!\nlife's illusions are gone, and life's noises are fallen dumb, and we\n'see no man any more, save Jesus only,' with ourselves.\n\n\n\nJESUS ONLY!\n\n'They saw no man any more, save Jesus only with themselves.'--Mark ix.\n8.\n\nThe Transfiguration was the solemn inauguration of Jesus for His\nsufferings and death.\n\nMoses, the founder, and Elijah, the restorer, of the Jewish polity,\nthe great Lawgiver and the great Prophet, were present. The former had\ndied and been mysteriously buried, the latter had been translated\nwithout 'seeing death.' So both are visitors from the unseen world,\nappearing to own that Jesus is the Lord of that dim land, and that\nthere they draw their life from Him. The conversation is about\nChrist's 'decease,' the wonderful event which was to constitute Him\nLord of the living and of the dead. The divine voice of command, 'Hear\nHim!' gives the meaning of their disappearance. At that voice they\ndepart and Jesus is left alone. The scene is typical of the ultimate\nissue of the world's history. The King's name only will at last be\nfound inscribed on the pyramid. Typical, too, is it not, of a\nChristian's blessed death? When the 'cloud' is past no man is seen any\nmore but 'Jesus only.'\n\nI. The solitary Saviour.\n\nThe disciples are left alone with the divine Saviour.\n\n1. He is alone in His nature. 'Son of God.'\n\n2. He is alone in the sinlessness of His manhood. 'My Beloved Son!'\n\n3. He is alone as God's Voice to men. 'Hear Him!'\n\nThe solitary Saviour, because sufficient. 'Thou, O Christ, art all I\nwant.'\n\nSufficient, too, for ever.\n\nHis life is eternal.\n\nHis love is eternal.\n\nThe power of His Cross Is eternal.\n\nII. The vanishing witnesses.\n\n1. The connection of the past with Christ. The authority of the two\nrepresentatives of the Old Covenant was only (a) derived and\nsubordinate; (b) prophetic; (c) transient.\n\n2. The thought may be widened into that of the relation of all\nteachers and guides to Jesus Christ.\n\n3. The two witness to the relation of the unseen world to Jesus\nChrist.\n\n(a) Its inhabitants are undying.\n\n(b) Are subject to the sway of Jesus.\n\n(c) Are expectantly waiting a glorious future.\n\n4. They witness to the central point of Christ's work--'His decease.'\nThis great event is the key to the world's history.\n\nIII. The waiting disciples.\n\n1. What Christian life should be. Giving Him our sole trust and\nallegiance.\n\n(a) Seeing Him in all things.\n\n(b) Constant communion. 'Abide in Me.'\n\n(c) Using everything as helps to Him.\n\n2. What Christian death may become.\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S LAMENT OVER OUR FAITHLESSNESS\n\n\n'He answereth him and saith, O faithless generation, how long shall I\nbe with you? how long shall I suffer you?'--Mark ix. 19.\n\nThere is a very evident, and, I think, intentional contrast between\nthe two scenes, of the Transfiguration, and of this healing of the\nmaniac boy. And in nothing is the contrast more marked than in the\ndemeanour of these enfeebled and unbelieving Apostles, as contrasted\nwith the rapture of devotion of the other three, and with the lowly\nsubmission and faith of Moses and Elias. Perhaps, too, the difference\nbetween the calm serenity of the mountain, and the hell-tortured\nmisery of the plain--between the converse with the sainted perfected\ndead, and the converse with their unworthy successors--made Christ\nfeel more sharply and poignantly than He ordinarily did His disciples'\nslowness of apprehension and want of faith. At any rate, it does\nstrike one as remarkable that the only occasion on which there came\nfrom His lips anything that sounded like impatience and a momentary\nflash of indignation was, when in sharpest contrast with 'This is my\nbeloved Son: hear Him,' He had to come down from the mountain to meet\nthe devil-possessed boy, the useless agony of the father, the sneering\nfaces of the scribes, and the impotence of the disciples. Looking on\nall this, He turns to His followers--for it is to the Apostles that\nthe text is spoken, and not to the crowd outside--with this most\nremarkable exclamation: 'O faithless generation! how long shall I be\nwith you? how long shall I suffer you?'\n\nNow, I said that these words at first sight looked almost like a\nmomentary flash of indignation, as if for once a spot had come on His\npallid cheek--a spot of anger--but I do not think that we shall find\nit so if we look a little more closely.\n\nThe first thing that seems to be in the words is not anger, indeed,\nbut a very distinct and very pathetic expression of Christ's infinite\npain, because of man's faithlessness. The element of personal sorrow\nis most obvious here. It is not only that He is sad for their sakes\nthat they are so unreceptive, and He can do so little for them--I\nshall have something to say about that presently--but that He feels\nfor Himself, just as we do in our poor humble measure, the chilling\neffect of an atmosphere where there is no sympathy. All that ever the\nteachers and guides and leaders of the world have in this respect had\nto bear--all the misery of opening out their hearts in the frosty air\nof unbelief and rejection--Christ endured. All that men have ever felt\nof how hard it is to keep on working when not a soul understands them,\nwhen not a single creature believes in them, when there is no one that\nwill accept their message, none that will give them credit for pure\nmotives--Jesus Christ had to feel, and that in an altogether singular\ndegree. There never was such a lonely soul on this earth as His, just\nbecause there never was one so pure and loving. 'The little hills\nrejoice _together_? as the Psalm says, 'on every side,' but the great\nAlpine peak is alone there, away up amongst the cold and the snows.\nThus lived the solitary Christ, the uncomprehended Christ, the\nunaccepted Christ. Let us see in this exclamation of His how humanly,\nand yet how divinely, He felt the loneliness to which His love and\npurity condemned Him.\n\nThe plain felt soul-chilling after the blessed communion of the\nmountain. There was such a difference between Moses and Elias and the\nvoice that said, 'This is My beloved Son: hear Him,' and the disbelief\nand slowness of spiritual apprehension of the people down below there,\nthat no wonder that for once the pain that He generally kept\nabsolutely down and silent, broke the bounds even of His restraint,\nand shaped for itself this pathetic utterance: 'How long shall I be\nwith you? how long shall I suffer you?'\n\nDear friends, here is 'a little window through which we may see a\ngreat matter' if we will only think of how all that solitude, and all\nthat sorrow of uncomprehended aims, was borne lovingly and patiently,\nright away on to the very end, for every one of us. I know that there\nare many of the aspects of Christ's life in which Christ's griefs tell\nmore on the popular apprehension; but I do not know that there is one\nin which the title of 'The Man of Sorrows' is to all deeper thinking\nmore pathetically vindicated than in this--the solitude of the\nuncomprehended and the unaccepted Christ and His pain at His\ndisciples' faithlessness.\n\nAnd then do not let us forget that in this short sharp cry of\nanguish--for it is that--there may be detected by the listening ear\nnot only the tone of personal hurt, but the tone of disappointed and\nthwarted love. Because of their unbelief He knew that they could not\nreceive what He desired to give them. We find Him more than once in\nHis life, hemmed in, hindered, baulked of His purpose, thwarted, as I\nmay say, in His design, simply because there was no one with a heart\nopen to receive the rich treasure that He was ready to pour out. He\nhad to keep it locked up in His own spirit, else it would have been\nwasted and spilled upon the ground. 'He could do no mighty works there\nbecause of their unbelief'; and here He is standing in the midst of\nthe men that knew Him best, that understood Him most, that were\nnearest to Him in sympathy; but even they were not ready for all this\nwealth of affection, all this infinitude of blessing, with which His\nheart is charged. They offered no place to put it. They shut up the\nnarrow cranny through which it might have come, and so He has to turn\nfrom them, bearing it away unbestowed, like some man who goes out in\nthe morning with his seed-basket full, and finds the whole field where\nhe would fain have sown covered already with springing weeds or\nencumbered with hard rock, and has to bring back the germs of possible\nlife to bless and fertilise some other soil. 'He that goeth forth\nweeping, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with joy';\nbut He that comes back weeping, bearing the precious seed that He\nfound no field to sow in, knows a deeper sadness, which has in it no\nprophecy of joy. It is wonderfully pathetic and beautiful, I think, to\nsee how Jesus Christ knew the pains of wounded love that cannot get\nexpressed because there is not heart to receive it.\n\nHere I would remark, too, before I go to another point, that these two\nelements--that of personal sorrow and that of disappointed love and\nbaulked purposes--continue still, and are represented as in some\nmeasure felt by Him now. It was to disciples that He said, 'O\nfaithless generation!' He did not mean to charge them with the entire\nabsence of all confidence, but He did mean to declare that their poor,\nfeeble faith, such as it was, was not worth naming in comparison with\nthe abounding mass of their unbelief. There was one spark of light in\nthem, and there was also a great heap of green wood that had not\ncaught the flame and only smoked instead of blazing. And so He said to\nthem, 'O _faithless_ generation!'\n\nAy, and if He came down here amongst us now, and went through the\nprofessing Christians in this land, to how many of us--regard being\nhad to the feebleness of our confidence and the strength of our\nunbelief--He would have to say the same thing, 'O faithless\ngeneration!'\n\nThe version of that clause in Matthew and Luke adds a significant\nword,--'faithless and _perverse_ generation.' The addition carries a\ngrave lesson, as teaching us that the two characteristics are\ninseparably united; that the want of faith is morally a crime and sin;\nthat unbelief is at once the most tragic manifestation of man's\nperverse will, and also in its turn the source of still more obstinate\nand wide-spreading evil. Blindness to His light and rejection of His\nlove, He treats as the very head and crown of sin. Like intertwining\nsnakes, the loathly heads are separate; but the slimy convolutions are\ntwisted indistinguishably together, and all unbelief has in it the\nnature of perversity, as all perversity has in it the nature of\nunbelief. 'He will convince the world of sin, because they believe not\non Me.'\n\nMay we venture to say, as we have already hinted, that all this pain\nis in some mysterious way still inflicted on His loving heart? Can it\nbe that every time we are guilty of unbelieving, unsympathetic\nrejection of His love, we send a pang of real pain and sorrow into the\nheart of Christ? It is a strange, solemn thought. There are many\ndifficulties which start up, if we at all accept it. But still it does\nappear as if we could scarcely believe in His perpetual manhood, or\nthink of His love as being in any real sense a human love, without\nbelieving that He sorrows when we sin; and that we can grieve, and\nwound, and cause to recoil upon itself, as it were, and close up that\nloving and gracious Spirit that delights in being met with answering\nlove. If we may venture to take our love as in any measure analogous\nto His--and unless we do, His love is to us a word without meaning--we\nmay believe that it is so. Do not we know that the purer our love, and\nthe more it has purified us, the more sensitive it becomes, even while\nthe less suspicious it becomes? Is not the purest, most unselfish,\nhighest love, that by which the least failure in response is felt most\npainfully? Though there be no anger, and no change in the love, still\nthere is a pang where there is an inadequate perception, or an\nunworthy reception, of it. And Scripture seems to countenance the\nbelief that Divine Love, too, may know something, in some mysterious\nfashion, like that feeling, when it warns us, 'Grieve not the Holy\nSpirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption.' So\n_we_ may venture to say, Grieve not the Christ of God, who redeems us;\nand remember that we grieve Him most when we will not let Him pour His\nlove upon us, but turn a sullen, unresponsive unbelief towards His\npleading grace, as some glacier shuts out the sunshine from the\nmountain-side with its thick-ribbed ice.\n\nAnother thought, which seems to me to be expressed in this wonderful\nexclamation of our Lord's, is--that this faithlessness bound Christ to\nearth, and kept Him here. As there is not anger, but only pain, so\nthere is also, I think, not exactly impatience, but a desire to\ndepart, coupled with the feeling that He cannot leave them till they\nhave grown stronger in faith. And that feeling is increased by the\nexperience of their utter helplessness and shameful discomfiture\nduring His brief absence They had shown that they were not fit to be\ntrusted alone. He had been away for a day up in the mountain there,\nand though they did not build an altar to any golden calf, like their\nancestors, when their leader was absent, still when He comes back He\nfinds things all gone wrong because of the few hours of His absence.\nWhat would they do if He were to go away from them altogether? They\nwould never be able to stand it at all. It is impossible that He\nshould leave them thus--raw, immature. The plant has not yet grown\nsufficiently strong to take away the prop round which it climbed. 'How\nlong must I be with you?' says the loving Teacher, who is prepared\nungrudgingly to give His slow scholars as much time as they need to\nlearn their lesson. He is not impatient, but He desires to finish the\ntask; and yet He is ready to let the scholars' dulness determine the\nduration of His stay. Surely that is wondrous and heart-touching love,\nthat Christ should let their slowness measure the time during which He\nshould linger here, and refrain from the glory which He desired. We do\nnot know all the reasons which determined the length of our Lord's\nlife upon earth, but this was one of them,--that He could not go away\nuntil He had left these men strong enough to stand by themselves, and\nto lay the foundations of the Church. Therefore He yielded to the plea\nof their very faithlessness and backwardness, and with this wonderful\nword of condescension and appeal bade them say for how many more days\nHe must abide in the plain, and turn His back on the glories that had\ngleamed for a moment on the mountain of transfiguration.\n\nIn this connection, too, is it not striking to notice how long His\nshort life and ministry appeared to our Lord Himself? There is to me\nsomething very pathetic in that question He addressed to one of His\nApostles near the end of His pilgrimage: 'Have I been so long time\nwith you, and yet hast thou not known Me?' It was not so very\nlong--three years, perhaps, at the outside--and much less, if we take\nthe shortest computation; and yet to Him it had been long. The days\nhad seemed to go tardily. He longed that the 'fire' which He came to\nfling on earth were already 'kindled,' and the moments seemed to drop\nso slowly from the urn of time. But neither the holy longing to\nconsummate His work by the mystery of His passion, to which more than\none of His words bear witness, nor the not less holy longing to be\nglorified with 'the glory which He had with the Father before the\nworld was,' which we may reverently venture to suppose in Him, could\nbe satisfied till his slow scholars were wiser, and His feeble\nfollowers stronger.\n\nAnd then again, here we get a glimpse into the depth of Christ's\npatient forbearance. We might read these other words of our text, 'How\nlong shall I suffer you?' with such an intonation as to make them\nalmost a threat that the limits of forbearance would soon be reached,\nand that lie was not going to 'suffer them' much longer. Some\ncommentators speak of them as expressing 'holy indignation,' and I\nquite believe that there is such a thing, and that on other occasions\nit was plainly spoken in Christ's words. But I fail to catch the tone\nof it here. To me this plaintive question has the very opposite of\nindignation in its ring. It sounds rather like a pledge that as long\nas they need forbearance they will get it; but, at the same time, a\nquestion of 'how long' that is to be. It implies the inexhaustible\nriches and resources of His patient mercy. And Oh, dear brethren! that\nendless forbearance is the only refuge and ground of hope we have.\n_His_ perfect charity 'is not soon angry; beareth all things,'\nand 'never faileth.' To it we have all to make the appeal--\n\n  'Though I have most unthankful been\n  Of all that e'er Thy grace received;\n  Ten thousand times Thy goodness seen,\n  Ten thousand times Thy goodness grieved;\n  Yet, Lord, the chief of sinners spare.'\n\nAnd, thank God! we do not make our appeal in vain.\n\nThere is rebuke in His question, but how tender a rebuke it is! He\nrebukes without anger. He names the fault plainly. He shows distinctly\nHis sorrow, and does not hide the strain on His forbearance. That is\nHis way of cure for His servants' faithlessness. It was His way on\nearth; it is His way in heaven. To us, too, comes the loving rebuke of\nthis question, 'How long shall I suffer you?'\n\nThank God that our answer may be cast into the words of His own\npromise: 'I say not unto thee, until seven times; but until seventy\ntimes seven.' 'Bear with me till Thou hast perfected me; and then bear\nme to Thyself, that I may be with Thee for ever, and grieve Thy love\nno more.' So may it be, for 'with Him is plenteous redemption,' and\nHis forbearing 'mercy endureth for ever.'\n\n\n\nTHE OMNIPOTENCE OF FAITH\n\n\nJesus said unto him, If them canst believe, all things are possible to\nhim that believeth.'--Mark ix. 23.\n\nThe necessity and power of faith is the prominent lesson of this\nnarrative of the healing of a demoniac boy, especially as it is told\nby the Evangelist Mark, The lesson is enforced by the actions of all\nthe persons in the group, except the central figure, Christ. The\ndisciples could not cast out the demon, and incur Christ's plaintive\nrebuke, which is quite as much sorrow as blame: 'O faithless\ngeneration I how long shall I be with you? how long shall I suffer\nyou?' And then, in the second part of the story, the poor father,\nheart-sick with hope deferred, comes into the foreground. The whole\ninterest is shifted to him, and more prominence is given to the\nprocess by which his doubting spirit is led to trust, than to that by\nwhich his son is healed.\n\nThere is something very beautiful and tender in Christ's way of\ndealing with him, so as to draw him to faith. He begins with the\nquestion, 'How long is it ago since this came unto him?' and so\ninduces him to tell all the story of the long sorrow, that his\nburdened heart might get some ease in speaking, and also that the\nfeeling of the extremity of the necessity, deepened by the very\ndwelling on all his boy's cruel sufferings, might help him to the\nexercise of faith. Truly 'He knew what was in man,' and with\ntenderness born of perfect knowledge and perfect love, He dealt with\nsore and sorrowful hearts. This loving artifice of consolation, which\ndrew all the story from willing lips, is one more little token of His\ngentle mode of healing. And it is profoundly wise, as well as most\ntender. Get a man thoroughly to know his need, and vividly to feel his\nhelpless misery, and you have carried him a long way towards laying\nhold of the refuge from it.\n\nHow wise and how tender the question is, is proved by the long\ncircumstantial answer, in which the pent-up trouble of a father's\nheart pours itself out at the tiny opening which Christ has made for\nit. He does not content himself with the simple answer, 'Of a child,'\nbut with the garrulousness of sorrow that has found a listener that\nsympathises, goes on to tell all the misery, partly that he may move\nhis hearer's pity, but more in sheer absorption with the bitterness\nthat had poisoned the happiness of his home all these years. And then\nhis graphic picture of his child's state leads him to the plaintive\ncry, in which his love makes common cause with his son, and unites\nboth in one wretchedness. 'If thou canst do anything, have compassion\non _us_ and help _us_.'\n\nOur Lord answers that appeal in the words of our text. There are some\ndifficulties in the rendering and exact force of these words with\nwhich I do not mean to trouble you. We may accept the rendering as in\nour Bible, with a slight variation in the punctuation. If we take the\nfirst clause as an incomplete sentence, and put a break between it and\nthe last words, the meaning will stand out more clearly: 'If thou\ncanst believe--all things are possible to him that believeth.' We\nmight paraphrase it somewhat thus: Did you say 'If thou canst do\nanything'? That is the wrong 'if.' There is no doubt about that. The\nonly 'if' in the question is another one, not about me, but about you.\n'If _thou_ canst believe--' and then the incomplete sentence might be\nsupposed to be ended with some such phrase as 'That is the only\nquestion. If thou canst believe--all depends on that. If thou canst\nbelieve, thy son will be healed,' or the like. Then, in order to\nexplain and establish what He had meant in the half-finished saying,\nHe adds the grand, broad statement, on which the demand for the man's\nfaith as the only condition of his wish being answered reposes: 'All\nthings are possible to him that believeth.'\n\nThat wide statement is meant, I suppose, for the disciples as well as\nfor the father. 'All things are possible' both in reference to\nbenefits to be received, and in reference to power to be exercised.\n'If thou canst believe, poor suppliant father, thou shalt have thy\ndesire. If thou canst believe, poor devil-ridden son, thou shalt be\nset free. If ye can believe, poor baffled disciples, you will be\nmasters of the powers of evil.'\n\nDo you remember another 'if' with which Christ was once besought?\n'There came a leper to Him, beseeching Him, and kneeling down to Him,\nand saying unto Him, If Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean.' In some\nrespects that man had advanced beyond the father in our story, for he\nhad no doubt at all about Christ's power, and he spoke to Him as\n'Lord.' But he was somehow not quite sure about Christ's heart of\npity. On the other hand, the man in our narrative has no doubt about\nChrist's compassion. He may have seen something of His previous\nmiracles, or there may still have been lying on our Lord's countenance\nsome of the lingering glory of the Transfiguration--as indeed the\nnarrative seems to hint, in its emphatic statement of the astonishment\nand reverential salutations of the crowd when He approached--or the\ntenderness of our Lord's listening sympathy may have made him feel\nsure of His willingness to help. At any rate, the leper's 'if' has\nanswered itself for him. His own lingering doubt, Christ waives aside\nas settled. His 'if' is answered for ever. So these two 'ifs' in\nreference to Christ are beyond all controversy; His power is certain,\nand His love. The third 'if' remains, the one that refers to us--'If\nthou canst believe'; all hinges on that, for 'all things are possible\nto him that believeth.'\n\nHere, then, we have our Lord telling us that faith is omnipotent. That\nis a bold word; He puts no limitations; 'all things are possible.' I\nthink that to get the true force of these words we should put\nalongside of them the other saying of our Lord's, 'With God all things\nare possible.' That is the foundation of the grand prerogative in our\ntext. The power of faith is the consequence of the power of God. All\nthings are possible to Him; therefore, all things are possible to me,\nbelieving in Him. If we translate that into more abstract words, it\njust comes to the principle that the power of faith consists in its\ntaking hold of the power of God. It is omnipotent because it knits us\nto Omnipotence. Faith is nothing in itself, but it is that which\nattaches us to God, and then His power flows into us. Screw a pipe on\nto a water main and turn a handle, and out flows the water through the\npipe and fills the empty vessel. Faith is as impotent in itself as the\nhollow water pipe is, only it is the way by which the connection is\nestablished between the fulness of God and the emptiness of man. By it\ndivinity flows into humanity, and we have a share even in the divine\nOmnipotence. 'My strength is made perfect in weakness.' In itself\nnothing, it yet grasps God, and therefore by it we are strong, because\nby it we lay hold of His strength. Great and wonderful is the grace\nthus given to us, poor, struggling, sinful men, that, looking up to\nthe solemn throne, where He sits in His power, we have a right to be\nsure that a true participation in His greatness is granted to us, if\nonce our hearts are fastened to Him.\n\nAnd there is nothing arbitrary nor mysterious in this flowing of\ndivine power into our hearts on condition of our faith. It is the\ncondition of possessing Christ, and in Christ, salvation,\nrighteousness, and strength, not by any artificial appointment, but in\nthe very nature of things. There is no other way possible by which God\ncould give men what they receive through their faith, except only\ntheir faith.\n\nIn all trust in God there are two elements: a sense of need and of\nevil and weakness, and a confidence more or less unshaken and strong\nin Him, His love and power and all-sufficiency; and unless both of\nthese two be in the heart, it is, in the nature of things, impossible,\nand will be impossible to all eternity, that purity and strength and\npeace and joy, and all the blessings which Christ delights to give to\nfaith, should ever be ours.\n\nUnbelief, distrust of Him, which separates us from Him and closes the\nheart fast against His grace, must cut us off from that which it does\nnot feel that it needs, nor cares to receive; and must interpose a\nnon-conducting medium between us and the electric influences of His\nmight. When Christ was on earth, man's want of faith dammed back His\nmiracle-working power, and paralysed His healing energy. How strange\nthat paradox sounds at first hearing, which brings together\nOmnipotence and impotence, and makes men able to counter-work the\nloving power of Christ. 'He could there do no mighty work.' The\nEvangelist intends a paradox, for he uses two kindred words to express\nthe inability and the mighty work; and we might paraphrase the saying\nso as to bring out the seeming contradiction: 'He there had no power\nto do any work of power.' The same awful, and in some sense\nmysterious, power of limiting and restraining the influx of His love\nbelongs to unbelief still, whether it take the shape of active\nrejection, or only of careless, passive non-reception. For faith makes\nus partakers of divine power by the very necessity of the case, and\nthat power can attach itself to nothing else. So, 'if thou canst\nbelieve, all things are possible to him that believeth.'\n\nStill further, we may observe that there is involved here the\nprinciple that our faith determines the amount of our power. That is\ntrue in reference to our own individual religious life, and it is true\nin reference to special capacities for Christ's service. Let me say a\nword or two about each of these. They run into each other, of course,\nfor the truest power of service is found in the depth and purity of\nour own personal religion, and on the other hand our individual\nChristian character will never be deep or pure unless we are working\nfor the Master. Still, for our present purpose, these two inseparable\naspects of the one Christian life may be separated in thought.\n\nAs to the former, then, the measure of my trust in Christ is the\nmeasure of all the rest of my Christian character. I shall have just\nas much purity, just as much peace, just as much wisdom or gentleness\nor love or courage or hope, as my faith is capable of taking up, and,\nso to speak, holding in solution. The 'point of saturation' in a man's\nsoul, the quantity of God's grace which he is capable of absorbing, is\naccurately measured by his faith. How much do I trust God? That will\nsettle how much I can take in of God.\n\nSo much as we believe, so much can we contain. So much as we can\ncontain, so much shall we receive. And in the very act of receiving\nthe 'portion of our Father's goods that falleth' to us, we shall feel\nthat there is a boundless additional portion ready to come as soon as\nwe are ready for it, and thereby we shall be driven to larger desires\nand a wider opening of the lap of faith, which will ever be answered\nby 'good measure, pressed together and running over, measured into our\nbosoms.' But there will be no waste by the bestowment of what we\ncannot take. 'According to your faith, be it unto you.' That is the\naccurate thermometer which measures the temperature of our spiritual\nstate. It is like the steam-gauge outside the boiler, which tells to a\nfraction the pressure of steam within, and so the power which can at\nthe moment be exerted.\n\nMay I make a very simple, close personal application of this thought?\nWe have as much religious life as we desire; that is, we have as much\nas our faith can take. There is the reason why such hosts of so-called\nChristians have such poor, feeble Christianity. _We_ dare not say of\nany, 'They have a name to live, and are dead.' There is only one Eye\nwho can tell when the heart has ceased to beat. But we may say that\nthere are a mournful number of people who call themselves Christians,\nwho look so like dead that no eye but Christ's can tell the\ndifference. They are in a syncope that will be death soon, unless some\nmighty power rouse them.\n\nAnd then, how many more of us there are, not so bad as that, but still\nfeeble and languid, whose Christian history is a history of weakness,\nwhile God's power is open before us, of starving in the midst of\nabundance, broken only by moments of firmer faith, and so of larger,\nhappier possession, that make the poverty-stricken ordinary days\nappear ten times more poverty-stricken. The channel lies dry, a waste\nchaos of white stones and driftwood for long months, and only for an\nhour or two after the clouds have burst on the mountains does the\nstream fill it from bank to bank. Do not many of us remember moments\nof a far deeper and more earnest trust in Christ than marks our\nordinary days? If such moments were continuous, should not we be the\nhappy possessors of beauties of character and spiritual power, such as\nwould put our present selves utterly to shame? And why are they not\ncontinuous? Why are our possessions in God so small, our power so\nweak? Dear friends! 'ye are not straitened in yourselves.' The only\nreason for defective spiritual progress and character is defective\nfaith.\n\nThen look at this same principle as it affects our faculties for\nChristian service. There, too, it is true that all things are possible\nto him that believeth. The saying had an application to the disciples\nwho stood by, half-ashamed and half-surprised at their failure to cast\nout the demon, as well as to the father in his agony of desire and\ndoubt. For them it meant that the measure of Christian service was\nmainly determined by the measure of their faith. It would scarcely be\nan exaggeration to say that in Christ's service a man can do pretty\nnearly what he believes he can do, if his confidence is built, not on\nhimself, but on Christ.\n\nIf those nine Apostles, waiting there for their Master, had thought\nthey could cast out the devil from the boy, do you not think that they\ncould have done it? I do not mean to say that rash presumption,\nundertaking in levity and self-confidence unsuitable kinds of work,\nwill be honoured with success. But I do mean to say that, in the line\nof our manifest duty, the extent to which we can do Christ's work is\nvery much the extent to which we believe, in dependence on Him, that\nwe can do it. If we once make up our minds that we shall do a certain\nthing by Christ's help and for His sake, in ninety cases out of a\nhundred the expectation will fulfil itself, and we shall do it. 'Why\ncould not we cast him out?' They need not have asked the question.\n'Why could not you cast him out? Why, because you did not think you\ncould, and with your timid attempt, making an experiment which you\nwere not sure would succeed, provoked the failure which you feared.'\nThe Church has never believed enough in its Christ-given power to cast\nout demons. We have never been confident enough that the victory was\nin our hands if we knew how to use our powers.\n\nThe same thing is true of each one of us. Audacity and presumption are\nhumility and moderation, if only we feel that 'our sufficiency is of\nGod.' 'I can do all things' is the language of simple soberness, if we\ngo on to say 'through Christ which strengthened me.'\n\nThere is one more point, drawn from these words, viz., our faith can\nonly take hold on the divine promises. Such language as this of my\ntext and other kindred sayings of our Lord's has often been extended\nbeyond its real force, and pressed into the service of a mistaken\nenthusiasm, for want of observing that very plain principle. The\nprinciple of our text has reference to outward things as well as to\nthe spiritual life. But there are great exaggerations and\nmisconceptions as to the province of faith in reference to these\ntemporal things, and consequently there are misconceptions and\nexaggerations on the part of many very good people as to the province\nof prayer in regard to them.\n\nIt seems to me that we shall be saved from these, if we distinctly\nrecognise a very obvious principle, namely, that 'faith' can never go\nfurther than God's clear promises, and that whatever goes beyond God's\nword is not faith, but something else assuming its appearance.\n\nFor instance, suppose a father nowadays were to say: 'My child is sore\nvexed with sickness. I long for his recovery. I believe that Christ\ncan heal him. I believe that He will. I pray in faith, and I know that\nI shall be answered.' Such a prayer goes beyond the record. Has Christ\ntold you that it is His will that your child shall be healed? If not,\nhow can you pray in faith that it is? You may pray in confidence that\nhe will be healed, but such confident persuasion is not faith. Faith\nlays hold of Christ's distinct declaration of His will, but such\nconfidence is only grasping a shadow, your own wishes. The father in\nthis story was entitled to trust, because Christ told him that his\ntrust was the condition of his son's being healed. So in response to\nthe great word of our text, the man's faith leaped up and grasped our\nLord's promise, with 'Lord, I believe.' But before Christ spoke, his\ndesires, his wistful longing, his imploring cry for help, had no\nwarrant to pass into faith, and did not so pass.\n\nChrist's word must go before our faith, and must supply the object for\nour faith, and where Christ has not spoken, there is no room for the\nexercise of any faith, except the faith, 'It is the Lord; let Him do\nwhat seemeth to Him good.' That is the true prayer of faith in regard\nto all matters of outward providence where we have no distinct word of\nGod's which gives unmistakable indication of His will. The 'if' of the\nleper, which has no place in the spiritual region, where we know that\n'this is the will of God, even our sanctification,' has full force in\nthe temporal region, where we do not know before the event what the\nwill of the Lord is, 'If Thou wilt, Thou canst,' is there our best\nprayer.\n\nWherever a distinct and unmistakable promise of God's goes, it is safe\nfor faith to follow; but to outrun His word is not faith, but\nself-will, and meets the deserved rebuke, 'Should it be according to\nthy mind?' There _are_ unmistakable promises about outward things on\nwhich we may safely build. Let us confine our expectations within the\nlimits of these, and turn them into the prayer of faith, so shooting\nback whence they came His winged words, 'This is the confidence that\nwe have, that if we ask anything according to His will He heareth us.'\nThus coming to Him, submitting all our wishes in regard to this world\nto His most loving will, and widening our confidence to the breadth of\nHis great and loving purpose in regard to our own inward life, as well\nas in regard to our practical service, His answer will ever be, 'Great\nis thy faith; be it unto thee even as thou wilt.'\n\n\n\nUNBELIEVING BELIEF\n\n\n'And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with\ntears, Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.'--Mark ix. 24.\n\nWe owe to Mark's Gospel the fullest account of the pathetic incident\nof the healing of the demoniac boy. He alone gives us this part of the\nconversation between our Lord and the afflicted child's father. The\npoor man had brought his child to the disciples, and found them unable\nto do anything with him. A torrent of appeal breaks from his lips as\nsoon as the Lord gives him an opportunity of speaking. He dwells upon\nall the piteous details with that fondness for repetition which sorrow\nknows so well. Jesus gives him back his doubts. The father said, 'If\nthou canst do anything, have compassion on us and help us.' Christ's\nanswer, according to the true reading, is not as it stands in our\nAuthorised Version, 'If thou canst _believe_'--throwing, as it were,\nthe responsibility on the man--but it is a quotation of the father's\nown word, 'If Thou _canst_,' as if He waved it aside with superb\nrecognition of its utter unfitness to the present case. 'Say not, If\nThou canst. _That_ is certain. All things are possible to thee' (not\nto _do_, but to _get_) 'if'--which is the only 'if' in the case--'thou\nbelievest. I can, and if thy faith lays hold on My Omnipotence, all is\ndone.'\n\nThat majestic word is like the blow of steel upon flint; it strikes a\nlittle spark of faith which lights up the soul and turns the smoky\npillar of doubt into clear flame of confidence. 'Lord, I believe; help\nThou mine unbelief.'\n\nI think in these wonderful words we have four things--the birth, the\ninfancy, the cry, and the education, of faith. And to these four I\nturn now.\n\nI. First, then, note here the birth of faith.\n\nThere are many ways to the temple, and it matters little by which of\nthem a man travels, if so be he gets there. There is no royal road to\nthe Christian faith which saves the soul. And yet, though identity of\nexperience is not to be expected, men are like each other in the\ndepths, and only unlike on the surfaces, of their being. Therefore one\nman's experience carefully analysed is very apt to give, at least, the\nrudiments of the experience of all others who have been in similar\ncircumstances. So I think we can see here, without insisting on any\npedantic repetition of the same details in every case, in broad\noutline, a sketch-map of the road. There are three elements here:\neager desire, the sense of utter helplessness, and the acceptance of\nChrist's calm assurances. Look at these three.\n\nThis man knew what he wanted, and he wanted it very sorely. Whosoever\nhas any intensity and reality of desire for the great gifts which\nJesus Christ comes to bestow, has taken at least one step on the way\nto faith. Conversely, the hindrances which block the path of a great\nmany of us are simply that we do not care to possess the blessings\nwhich Jesus Christ in His Gospel offers. I am not talking now about\nthe so-called intellectual hindrances to belief, though I think that a\ngreat many of these, if carefully examined, would be found, in the\nultimate analysis, to repose upon this same stolid indifference to the\nblessings which Christianity offers. But what I wish to insist upon is\nthat for large numbers of us, and no doubt for many men and women whom\nI address now, the real reason why they have not trust in Jesus Christ\nis because they do not care to possess the blessings which Jesus\nChrist brings. Do you desire to have your sins forgiven? Has purity\nany attraction for you? Do you care at all about the calm and pure\nblessings of communion with God? Would you like to live always in the\nlight of His face? Do you want to be the masters of your own lusts and\npassions? I do not ask you, Do you want to go to Heaven or to escape\nHell, when you die? but I ask, Has that future in any of its aspects\nany such power over you as that it stirs you to any earnestness and\npersistency of desire, or is it all shadowy and vain, ineffectual and\ndim?\n\nWhat we Christian teachers have to fight against is that we are\ncharged to offer to men a blessing that they do not want, and have to\ncreate a demand before there can be any acceptance of the supply.\n'Give us the leeks and garlics of Egypt,' said the Hebrews in the\nwilderness; 'our soul loatheth this light bread.' So it is with many\nof us; we do not want God, goodness, quietness of conscience, purity\nof life, self-consecration to a lofty ideal, one-thousandth part as\nmuch as we want success in our daily occupations, or some one or other\nof the delights that the world gives. I remember Luther, in his rough\nway, has a story--I think it is in his _Table-talk_--about a herd of\nswine to whom their keeper offered some rich dainties, and the pigs\nsaid, 'Give us grains.' That is what so many men do when Jesus Christ\ncomes with His gifts and His blessings. They turn away, but if they\nwere offered some poor earthly good, all their desires would go out\ntowards it, and their eager hands would be scrambling who should first\npossess it.\n\nOh brethren, if we saw things as they are, and our needs as they are,\nnothing would kindle such intensity of longing in our hearts as that\nrejected or neglected promise of life eternal and divine which Jesus\nChrist brings. If I could only once wake in some indifferent heart\nthis longing, that heart would have taken at least the initial step to\na life of Christian godliness.\n\nFurther, we have here the other element of a sense of utter\nhelplessness. How often this poor father had looked at his boy in the\ngrip of the fiend, and had wrung his hands in despair that he could\nnot do anything for him! That same sense of absolute impotence is one\nwhich we all, if we rightly understand what we need, must cherish. Can\nyou forgive your own sins? Can you cleanse your own nature? Can you\nmake yourselves other than you are by any effort of volition, or by\nany painfulness of discipline? To a certain small extent you can. In\nregard to superficial culture and eradication, your careful husbandry\nof your own wills may do much, but you cannot deal with your deepest\nneeds. If we understand what is required, in order to bring one soul\ninto harmony and fellowship with God, we shall recognise that we\nourselves can do nothing to save, and little to help ourselves. 'Every\nman his own redeemer,' which is the motto of some people nowadays, may\ndo very well for fine weather and for superficial experience, but when\nthe storm comes it proves a poor refuge, like the gay pavilions that\nthey put up for festivals, which are all right whilst the sun is\nshining and the flags are fluttering, but are wretched shelters when\nthe rain beats and the wind howls. We can do nothing for ourselves.\nThe recognition of our own helplessness is the obverse, so to speak,\nand underside, of confidence in the divine help. The coin, as it were,\nhas its two faces. On the one is written, 'Trust in the Lord'; on the\nother is written, 'Nothing in myself.' A drowning man, if he tries to\nhelp himself, only encumbers his would-be rescuer, and may drown him\ntoo. The truest help he can give is to let the strong arm that has\ncleft the waters for his sake fling itself around him and bear him\nsafe to land. So, eager desire after offered blessings and\nconsciousness of my own impotence to secure them--these are the\ninitial steps of faith.\n\nAnd the last of the elements here is, listening to the calm assurance\nof Jesus Christ: 'If Thou canst! Do not say that to Me; I can, and\nbecause I can, all things are possible for thee to receive.' In like\nmanner He stands at the door of each of our hearts and speaks to each\nof our needs, and says: 'I can satisfy it. Rest for thy soul,\ncleansing for thy sins, satisfaction for thy desires, guidance for thy\npilgrimage, power for thy duties, patience in thy sufferings--all\nthese will come to thee, if thou layest hold of My hand.' His\nassurance helps trembling confidence to be born, and out of doubt the\ngreat calm word of the Master smites the fire of trust. And we, dear\nbrethren, if we will listen to Him, shall surely find in Him all that\nwe need. Think how marvellous it is that this Jewish peasant should\nplant Himself in the front of humanity, over against the burdened,\nsinful race of men, and pledge Himself to forgive and to cleanse their\nsins, to bear all their sicknesses, to be their strength in weakness,\ntheir comfort in sorrow, the rest of their hearts, their heaven upon\nearth, their life in death, their glory in heaven, and their all in\nall; and not only should pledge Himself, but in the blessed experience\nof millions should have more than fulfilled all that He promised.\n'They trusted in Him, and were lightened, and their faces were not\nashamed.' Will you not answer His sovereign word of promise with your\n'Lord, I believe'?\n\nII. Then, secondly, we have here the infancy of faith.\n\nAs soon as the consciousness of belief dawned upon the father, and the\neffort to exercise it was put forth, there sprang up the consciousness\nof its imperfection. He would never have known that he did not believe\nunless he had tried to believe. So it is in regard to all excellences\nand graces of character. The desire of possessing some feeble degree\nof any virtue or excellence, and the effort to put it forth, is the\nsurest way of discovering how little of it we have. On the other side,\nsorrow for the lack of some form of goodness is itself a proof of the\npartial possession, in some rudimentary and incipient form, of that\ngoodness. The utterly lazy man never mourns over his idleness; it is\nonly the one that would fain work harder than he does, and already\nworks tolerably hard, who does so. So the little spark of faith in\nthis man's heart, like a taper in a cavern, showed the abysses of\ndarkness that lay unillumined round about it.\n\nThus, then, in its infancy, faith may and does coexist with much\nunfaith and doubt. The same state of mind, looked at from its two\nopposite ends, as it were, may be designated faith or unbelief; just\nas a piece of shot silk, according to the angle at which you hold it,\nmay show you only the bright colours of its warp or the dark ones of\nits weft. When you are travelling in a railway train with the sun\nstreaming in at the windows, if you look out on the one hand you will\nsee the illumined face of every tree and blade of grass and house; and\nif you look out on the other, you will see their shadowed side. And so\nthe same landscape may seem to be all lit up by the sunshine of\nbelief, or to be darkened by the gloom of distrust. If we consider how\ngreat and how perfect ought to be our confidence, to bear any due\nproportion to the firmness of that upon which it is built, we shall\nnot be slow to believe that through life there will always be the\npresence in us, more or less, of these two elements. There will be all\ndegrees of progress between the two extremes of infantile and mature\nfaith.\n\nThere follows from that thought this practical lesson, that the\ndiscovery of much unbelief should never make a man doubt the reality\nor genuineness of his little faith. We are all apt to write needlessly\nbitter things against ourselves when we get a glimpse of the\nincompleteness of our Christian life and character. But there is no\nreason why a man should fancy that he is a hypocrite because he finds\nout that he is not a perfect believer. But, on the other hand, let us\nremember that the main thing is not the maturity, but the progressive\ncharacter, of faith. It was most natural that this man in our text, at\nthe very first moment when he began to put his confidence in Jesus\nChrist as able to heal his child, should be aware of much\ntremulousness mingling with it. But is it not most unnatural that\nthere should be the same relative proportion of faith and unbelief in\nthe heart and experience of men who have long professed to be\nChristians? You do not expect the infant to have adult limbs, but you\ndo expect it to grow. True, faith at its beginning may be like a grain\nof mustard seed, but if the grain of mustard seed be alive it will\ngrow to a great tree, where all the fowls of the air can lodge in the\nbranches. Oh! it is a crying shame and sin that in all Christian\ncommunities there should be so many grey-headed babies, men who have\nfor years and years been professing to be Christ's followers, and\nwhose faith is but little, if at all, stronger--nay! perhaps is even\nobviously weaker--than it was in the first days of their profession.\n'Ye have need of milk, and not of strong meat,' very many of you. And\nthe vitality of your faith is made suspicious, not because it is\nfeeble, but because it is not growing stronger.\n\nIII. Notice the cry of infant faith.\n\n'Help Thou mine unbelief' may have either of two meanings. The man's\ndesire was either that his faith should be increased and his unbelief\n'helped' by being removed by Christ's operation upon his spirit, or\nthat Christ would 'help' him and his boy by healing the child, though\nthe faith which asked the blessing was so feeble that it might be\ncalled unbelief. There is nothing in the language or in the context to\ndetermine which of these two meanings is intended; we must settle it\nby our own sense of what would be most likely under the circumstances.\nTo me it seems extremely improbable that, when the father's whole soul\nwas absorbed in the healing of his son, he should turn aside to ask\nfor the inward and spiritual process of having his faith strengthened.\nRather he said, 'Heal my child, though it is unbelief as much as faith\nthat asks Thee to do it.'\n\nThe lesson is that, even when we are conscious of much tremulousness\nin our faith, we have a right to ask and expect that it shall be\nanswered. Weak faith _is_ faith. The tremulous hand _does_ touch. The\ncord may be slender as a spider's web that binds a heart to Jesus, but\nit _does_ bind. The poor woman in the other miracle who put out her\nwasted finger-tip, coming behind Him in the crowd, and stealthily\ntouching the hem of His garment, though it was only the end of her\nfinger-nail that was laid on the robe, carried away with her the\nblessing. And so the feeblest faith joins the soul, in the measure of\nits strength, to Jesus Christ.\n\nBut let us remember that, whilst thus the cry of infant faith is\nheard, the stronger voice of stronger faith is more abundantly heard.\nJesus Christ once for all laid down the law when He said to one of the\nsuppliants at His feet, 'According to your faith be it unto you.' The\nmeasure of our belief is the measure of our blessing. The wider you\nopen the door, the more angels will crowd into it, with their white\nwings and their calm faces. The bore of the pipe determines the amount\nof water that flows into the cistern. Every man gets, in the measure\nin which he desires. Though a tremulous hand may hold out a cup into\nwhich Jesus Christ will not refuse to pour the wine of the kingdom,\nyet the tremulous hand will spill much of the blessing; and he that\nwould have the full enjoyment of the mercies promised, and possible,\nmust 'ask in faith, nothing wavering.' The sensitive paper which\nrecords the hours of sunshine in a day has great gaps upon its line of\nlight answering to the times when clouds have obscured the sun; and\nthe communication of blessings from God is intermittent, if there be\nintermittency of faith. If you desire an unbroken line of mercy, joy,\nand peace, keep up an unbroken continuity of trustful confidence.\n\nIV. Lastly, we have here the education of faith.\n\nChrist paid no heed in words to the man's confession of unbelief, but\nproceeded to do the work which answered his prayer in both its\npossible meanings. He responded to imperfect confidence by His perfect\nwork of cure, and, by that perfect work of cure, He strengthened the\nimperfect confidence which it had answered.\n\nThus He educates us by His answers--His over-answers--to our poor\ndesires; and the abundance of His gifts rebukes the poverty of our\npetitions more emphatically than any words of remonstrance beforehand\ncould have done. He does not lecture us into faith, but He blesses us\ninto it. When the Apostle was sinking in the flood, Jesus Christ said\nno word of reproach until He had grasped him with His strong hand and\nheld him safe. And then, when the sustaining touch thrilled through\nall the frame, then, and not till then, He said--as we may fancy, with\na smile on His face that the moonlight showed--as knowing how\nunanswerable His question was, 'O thou of little faith, _wherefore_\ndidst thou doubt?' That is how He will deal with us if we will;\nover-answering our tremulous petitions, and so teaching us to hope\nmore abundantly that 'we shall praise Him more and more.'\n\nThe disappointments, the weaknesses, the shameful defeats which come\nwhen our confidence fails, are another page of His lesson-book. The\nsame Apostle of whom I have been speaking got that lesson when,\nstanding on the billows, and, instead of looking at Christ, looking at\ntheir wrath and foam, his heart failed him, and because his heart\nfailed him he began to sink. If we turn away from Jesus Christ, and\ninterrupt the continuity of our faith by calculating the height of the\nbreakers and the weight of the water that is in them, and what will\nbecome of us when they topple over with their white crests upon our\nheads, then gravity will begin to work, and we shall begin to sink.\nAnd well for us if, when we have sunk as far as our knees, we look\nback again to the Master and say, 'Lord, save me; I perish!' The\nweakness which is our own when faith sleeps, and the rejoicing power\nwhich is ours because it is His, when faith wakes, are God's education\nof it to fuller and ampler degrees and depth. We shall lose the\nmeaning of life, and the best lesson that joy and sorrow, calm and\nstorm, victory and defeat, can give us, unless all these make us\n'rooted and grounded in faith.'\n\nDear friend, do you desire your truest good? Do you know that you\ncannot win it, or fight for it to gain it, or do anything to obtain\nit, in your own strength? Have you heard Jesus Christ saying to you,\n'Come ... and I will give you rest'? Oh! I beseech you, do not turn\naway from Him, but like this agonised father in our story, fall at His\nfeet with 'Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief,' and He will\nconfirm your feeble faith by His rich response.\n\n\n\nRECEIVING AND FORBIDDING\n\n\n'And He came to Capernaum: and being in the house He asked them, What\nwas it that ye disputed among yourselves by the way? 34. But they held\ntheir peace: for by the way they had disputed among themselves, who\nshould be the greatest. 35. And He sat down, and called the Twelve,\nand saith unto them, If any man desire to be first, the same shall be\nlast of all, and servant of all. 36. And He took a child, and set him\nin the midst of them: and when He had taken him in His arms, He said\nunto them, 37. Whosoever shall receive one of such children in My\nname, receiveth Me: and whosoever shall receive Me, receiveth not Me,\nbut Him that sent Me. 38. And John answered Him, saying, Master, we\nsaw one casting out devils in Thy name, and he followeth not us: and\nwe forbad him, because he followeth not us. 39. But Jesus said, Forbid\nhim not: for there is no man which shall do a miracle in My name, that\ncan lightly speak evil of Me. 40. For he that is not against us is on\nour part. 41. For whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in\nMy name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall\nnot lose his reward. 42. And whosoever shall offend one of these\nlittle ones that believe in Me, it is better for him that a millstone\nwere hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea.'--Mark ix.\n33-42.\n\nSurely the disciples might have found something better to talk about\non the road from Caesarea, where they had heard from Jesus of His\nsufferings, than this miserable wrangle about rank! Singularly enough,\neach announcement of the Cross seems to have provoked something of the\nsort. Probably they understood little of His meaning, but hazily\nthought that the crisis was at hand when He should establish the\nkingdom; and so their ambition, rather than their affection, was\nstirred. Perhaps, too, the dignity bestowed on Peter after his\nconfession, and the favour shown to the three witnesses of the\nTransfiguration, may have created jealousy. Matthew makes the quarrel\nto have been about future precedence; Mark about present. The one was\nstriven for with a view to the other. How chill it must have struck on\nChrist's heart, that those who loved Him best cared so much more for\ntheir own petty superiority than for His sorrows!\n\nI. Note the law of service as the true greatness (verses 33-35). 'When\nHe was in the house, He asked them.' He had let them talk as they\nwould on the road, walking alone in front, and they keeping, as they\nthought, out of ear-shot; but, when at rest together in the house\n(perhaps Peter's) where He lived in Capernaum, He lets them see, by\nthe question and still more by the following teaching, that He knew\nwhat He asked, and needed no answer. The tongues that had been so loud\non the road were dumb in the house--silenced by conscience. His\nservants still do and say many things on the road which they would not\ndo if they saw Him close beside them, and they sometimes fancy that\nthese escape Him. But when they are 'in the house' with Him, they will\nfind that He knew all that was going on; and when He asks the account\nof it, they, too, will be speechless. 'A thing which does not appear\nwrong by itself shows its true character when brought to the judgment\nof God and the knowledge of Jesus Christ. (_Bengel_).\n\nChrist deals with the fault with much solemnity, seating Himself, as\nTeacher and Superior, and summoning the whole Twelve to hear. We do\nnot enter on the difficult question of the relation of Mark's report\nof our Lord's words to those of the other Evangelists, but rather try\nto bring out the significance of their form and connection here. Note,\nthen, that here we have not so much the nature of true greatness, as\nthe road to it. 'If any man would be first,' he is to be least and\nservant, and thereby he will reach his aim. Of course, that involves\nthe conception of the nature of true greatness as service, but still\nthe distinction is to be kept in view. Further, 'last of all' is not\nthe same as 'servant of all.' The one phrase expresses humility; the\nother, ministry. An indolent humility, so very humble that it does\nnothing for others, and a service which if not humble, are equally\nincomplete, and neither leads to or is the greatness at which alone a\nChristian ought to aim. There are two paradoxes here. The lowest is\nthe highest, the servant is the chief; and they may be turned round\nwith equal truth--the highest is the lowest, and the chief is the\nservant. The former tells us how things really are, and what they look\nlike, when seen from the centre by His eye. The latter prescribes the\nduties and responsibilities of high position. In fact and truth, to\nsink is the way to rise, and to serve is the way to rule--only the\nrise and the rule are of another sort than contents worldly ambition,\nand the Christian must rectify his notions of what loftiness and\ngreatness are. On the other hand, distinguishing gifts of mind, heart,\nleisure, position, possessions, or anything else, are given us for\nothers, and bind us to serve. Both things follow from the nature of\nChrist's kingdom, which is a kingdom of love; for in love the vulgar\ndistinctions of higher and lower are abolished, and service is\ndelight. This is no mere pretty sentiment, but a law which grips hard\nand cuts deep. Christ's servants have not learned it yet, and the\nworld heeds it not; but, till it governs all human society, and pulls\nup ambition, domination, and pride of place by the roots, society will\ngroan under ills which increase with the increase of wealth and\nculture in the hands of a selfish few.\n\nII. Note the exhibition of the law in a life. Children are quick at\nfinding out who loves them, and there would always be some hovering\nnear for a smile from Christ. With what eyes of innocent wonder the\nchild would look up at Him, as He gently set him there, in the open\nspace in front of Himself! Mark does not record any accompanying\nwords, and none were needed, The unconsciousness of rank, the\nspontaneous acceptance of inferiority, the absence of claims to\nconsideration and respect, which naturally belong to childhood as it\nought to be, and give it winningness and grace, are the marks of a\ntrue disciple, and are the more winning in such because they are not\nof nature, but regained by self-abnegation. What the child is we have\nto become. This child was the example of one-half of the law, being\n'least of all,' and perfectly contented to be so; but the other half\nwas not shown in him, for his little hands could do but small service.\nWas there, then, no example in this scene of that other requirement?\nSurely there was; for the child was not left standing, shy, in the\nmidst, but, before embarrassment became weeping, was caught up in\nChrist's arms, and folded to His heart. He had been taken as the\ninstance of humility, and he then became the subject of tender\nministry. Christ and he divided the illustration of the whole law\nbetween them, and the very inmost nature of true service was shown in\nour Lord's loving clasp and soothing pressure to His heart. It is as\nif He had said, 'Look! this is how you must serve; for you cannot help\nthe weak unless you open your arms and hearts to them.' Jesus, with\nthe child held to His bosom, is the living law of service, and the\nchild nestling close to Him, because sure of His love, is the type of\nthe trustful affection which we must evoke if we are to serve or help.\nThis picture has gone straight to the hearts of men; and who can count\nthe streams of tenderness and practical kindliness of which it has\nbeen the source?\n\nChrist goes on to speak of the child, not as the example of service,\nbut of being served. The deep words carry us into blessed mysteries\nwhich will recompense the lowly servants, and lift them high in the\nkingdom. Observe the precision of the language, both as regards the\npersons received and the motive of reception. 'One of such little\nchildren' means those who are thus lowly, unambitious, and unexacting.\n'In My name' defines the motive as not being simple humanity or\nbenevolence, but the distinct recognition of Christ's command and\nloving obedience to His revealed character. No doubt, natural\nbenevolence has its blessings for those who exercise it; but that\nwhich is here spoken of is something much deeper than nature, and wins\na far higher reward.\n\nThat reward is held forth in unfathomable words, of which we can but\nskim the surface. They mean more than that such little ones are so\nclosely identified with Him that, in His love, He reckons good done to\nthem as done to Him. That is most blessedly true. Nor is it true only\nbecause He lovingly reckons the deed as done to Him, though it really\nis not; but, by reason of the derived life which all His children\npossess from Him, they are really parts of Himself; and in that most\nreal though mystic unity, what is done to them is, in fact, done to\nHim. Further, if the service be done in His name, then, on whomsoever\nit may be done, it is done to Him. This great saying unveils the true\nsacredness and real recipient of all Christian service. But more than\nthat is in the words. When we 'receive' Christ's little ones by help\nand loving ministry, we receive Him, and in Him God, for joy and\nstrength. Unselfish deeds in His name open the heart for more of\nChrist and God, and bring on the doer the blessing of fuller insight,\ncloser communion, more complete assimilation to his Lord. Therefore\nsuch service is the road to the true superiority in His kingdom, which\ndepends altogether on the measure of His own nature which has flowed\ninto our emptiness.\n\nIII. The Apostles' conscience-stricken confession of their breach of\nthe law (verses 38-40). Peter is not spokesman this time, but John,\nwhose conscience was more quickly pricked. At first sight, the\nconnection of his interruption with the theme of the discourse seems\nto be merely the recurrence of the phrase, 'in Thy name'; but, besides\nthat, there is an obvious contrast between 'receiving' and\n'forbidding.' The Apostle is uneasy when he remembers what they had\ndone, and, like an honest man, he states the case to Christ,\nhalf-confessing, and half-asking for a decision. He begins to think\nthat perhaps the man whom they had silenced was 'one such little\nchild,' and had deserved more sympathetic treatment. How he came to be\nso true a disciple as to share in the power of casting out devils, and\nyet not to belong to the closer followers of Jesus, we do not know,\nand need not guess. So it was; and John feels, as he tells the story,\nthat perhaps their motives had not been so much their Master's honour\nas their own. 'He followeth not us,' and yet he is trenching on our\nprerogatives. The greater fact that he and they followed Christ was\novershadowed by the lesser that he did not follow them. There spoke\nthe fiery spirit which craved the commission to burn up a whole\nvillage, because of its inhospitality. There spoke the spirit of\necclesiastical intolerance, which in all ages has masqueraded as zeal\nfor Christ, and taken 'following us' and 'following Him' to be the\nsame thing. But there spoke, too, a glimmering consciousness that\ngagging men was not precisely 'receiving' them, and that if 'in Thy\nname' so sanctified deeds, perhaps the unattached exorcist, who could\ncast out demons by it, was 'a little one' to be taken to their hearts,\nand not an enemy to be silenced. Pity that so many listen to the law,\nand do not, like John, feel it prick them!\n\nChrist forbids such 'forbidding,' and thereby sanctions\n'irregularities' and 'unattached' work, which have always been the\nbugbears of sticklers for ecclesiastical uniformity, and have not\nseldom been the life of Christianity. That authoritative,\nunconditional 'forbid him not' ought, long ago, to have rung the\nfuneral knell of intolerance, and to have ended the temptation to\nidolise 'conformity,' and to confound union to organised forms of the\nChristian community with union to Christ. But bigotry dies hard. The\nreasons appended serve to explain the position of the man in question.\nIf he had wrought miracles in Christ's name, he must have had some\nfaith in it; and his experience of its power would deepen that. So\nthere was no danger of his contradicting himself by speaking against\nJesus. The power of 'faith in the Name' to hallow deeds, the certainty\nthat rudimentary faith will, when exercised, increase, the guarantee\nof experience as sure to lead to blessing from Jesus, are all involved\nin this saying. But its special importance is as a reason for the\ndisciples' action. Because the man's action gives guarantees for his\nfuture, they are not to silence him. That implies that they are only\nto forbid those who do speak evil of Christ; and that to all others,\neven if they have not reached the full perception of truth, they are\nto extend patient forbearance and guidance. 'The mouth of them that\nspeak lies shall be stopped'; but the mouth that begins to stammer His\nname is to be taught and cherished.\n\nChrist's second reason still more plainly claims the man for an ally.\nCommentators have given themselves a great deal of trouble to\nreconcile this saying with the other--'He that is not with Me is\nagainst Me.' If by reconciling is meant twisting both to mean the same\nthing, it cannot be done. If preventing the appearance of\ncontradiction is meant, it does not seem necessary. The two sayings do\nnot contradict, but they complete, each other. They apply to different\nclasses of persons, and common-sense has to determine their\napplication. This man did, in some sense, believe in Jesus, and worked\ndeeds that proved the power of the Name. Plainly, such work was in the\nsame direction as the Lord's and the disciples'. Such a case is one\nfor the application of tolerance. But the principle must be limited by\nthe other, else it degenerates into lazy indifference. 'He that is not\nagainst us is for us,' if it stood alone, would dissolve the Church,\nand destroy distinctions in belief and practice which it would be\nfatal to lose. 'He that is not with Me is against Me,' if it stood\nalone, would narrow sympathies, and cramp the free development of\nlife. We need both to understand and get the good of either.\n\nIV. We have the reward of receiving Christ's little ones set over\nagainst the retribution that seizes those who cause them to stumble\n(verses 41, 42). These verses seem to resume the broken thread of\nverse 37, whilst they also link on to the great principle laid down in\nverse 40. He that is 'not against' is 'for,' even if he only gives a\n'cup of water' to Christ's disciple because he is Christ's. That shows\nthat there is some regard for Jesus in him. It is a germ which may\ngrow. Such an one shall certainly have his reward. That does not mean\nthat he will receive it in a future life, but that here his deed shall\nbring after it blessed consequences to himself. Of these, none will be\nmore blessed than the growing regard for the Name, which already is,\nin some degree, precious to him. The faintest perception of Christ's\nbeauty, honestly lived out, will be increased. Every act strengthens\nits motive. The reward of living our convictions is firmer and more\nenlightened conviction. Note, too, that the person spoken of belongs\nto the same class as the silenced exorcist, and that this reads the\ndisciples a further lesson. Jesus will look with love on the acts\nwhich even a John wished to forbid. Note, also, that the disciples\nhere are the recipients of the kindness. They are no longer being\ntaught to receive the 'little ones,' but are taught that they\nthemselves belong to that class, and need kindly succour from these\noutsiders, whom they had proudly thought to silence.\n\nThe awful, reticent words, which shadow forth and yet hide the fate of\nthose who cause the feeblest disciple to stumble, are not for us to\ndilate upon. Jesus saw the realities of future retribution, and\ndeliberately declares that death is a less evil than such an act. The\n'little ones' are sacred because they are His. The same relation to\nHim which made kindness to them so worthy of reward, makes harm to\nthem so worthy of punishment. Under the one lies an incipient love to\nHim; under the other, a covert and perhaps scarcely conscious\nopposition. It is devil's work to seduce simple souls from allegiance\nto Christ. There are busy hands to-day laying stumbling-blocks in the\nway, especially of young Christians--stumbling-blocks of doubt, of\nfrivolity, of slackened morality, and the like. It were better, says\nOne who saw clearly into that awful realm beyond, if a heavy millstone\nwere knotted about their necks, and they were flung into the deepest\nplace of the lake that lay before Him as he spoke. He does not speak\nexaggerated words; and if a solemn strain of vehemence, unlike His\nordinary calm, is audible here, it is because what He knew, and did\nnot tell, gave solemn earnestness to His veiled and awe-inspiring\nprophecy of doom. What imagination shall fill out the details of the\n'worse than' which lurks behind that 'better'?\n\n\n\nAN UNANSWERED QUESTION\n\n\n'What was it that ye disputed among yourselves by the way?'--Mark ix.\n33.\n\nWas it not a strange time to squabble when they had just been told of\nHis death? Note--\n\nI. The variations of feeling common to the disciples and to us all:\none moment 'exceeding sorrowful,' the next fighting for precedence.\n\nII. Christ's divine insight into His servants' faults. This question\nwas put because He knew what the wrangle had been about. The\ndisputants did not answer, but He knew without an answer, as His\nimmediately following warnings show. How blessed to think that Psalm\ncxxxix. applies to Him--'There is not a word in my tongue, but lo, O\nLord! Thou knowest it altogether,'\n\nIII. The compassion of Christ seeking to cure the sins He sees. His\nquestion is not to rebuke, but to heal; so His perfect knowledge is\nblended with perfect love.\n\nIV. The test of evil. They were ashamed to tell Him the cause of their\ndispute.\n\nV. The method of cure. The presence of Christ is the end of strife and\nof sin in general.\n\n\n\nSALTED WITH FIRE\n\n\n'Every one shall be salted with fire.'--Mark ix. 49.\n\nOur Lord has just been uttering some of the most solemn words that\never came from His gracious lips. He has been enjoining the severest\nself-suppression, extending even to mutilation and excision of the\neye, the hand, or the foot, that might cause us to stumble. He has\nbeen giving that sharp lesson on the ground of plain common sense and\nenlightened self-regard. It _is_ better, obviously, to live maimed\nthan to die whole. The man who elects to keep a mortified limb, and\nthereby to lose life, is a suicide and a fool. It is a solemn thought\nthat a similar mad choice is possible in the moral and spiritual\nregion.\n\nTo these stern injunctions, accompanied by the awful sanctions of that\nconsideration, our Lord appends the words of my text. They are obscure\nand have often been misunderstood. This is not the place to enter on a\ndiscussion of the various explanations that have been proposed of\nthem. A word or two is all that is needful to put us in possession of\nthe point of view from which I wish to lay them on your hearts at this\ntime.\n\nI take the 'every one' of my text to mean not mankind generally, but\nevery individual of the class whom our Lord is addressing--that is to\nsay, His disciples. He is laying down the law for all Christians. I\ntake the paradox which brings together 'salting' and 'fire,' to refer,\nnot to salt as a means of communicating savour to food, but as a means\nof preserving from putrefaction. And I take the 'fire' here to refer,\nnot to the same process which is hinted at in the awful preceding\nwords, 'the fire in not quenched,' but to be set in opposition to that\nfire, and to mean something entirely different. There is a fire that\ndestroys, and there is a fire that preserves; and the alternative for\nevery man is to choose between the destructive and the conserving\ninfluences. Christian disciples have to submit to be 'salted with\nfire,' lest a worse thing befall them,\n\nI. And so the first point that I would ask you to notice here is--that\nfiery cleansing to which every Christian must yield.\n\nNow I have already referred to the relation between the words of my\ntext and those immediately preceding, as being in some sense one of\nopposition and contrast. I think we are put on the right track for\nunderstanding the solemn words of this text if we remember the great\nsaying of John the Baptist, where, in precisely similar fashion, there\nare set side by side the two conceptions of the chaff being cast into\nthe unquenchable fire (the same expression as in our text), and 'He\nshall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire.'\n\nThe salting fire, then, which cleanses and preserves, and to which\nevery Christian soul must submit itself, to be purged thereby, is, as\nI take it, primarily and fundamentally the fire of that Divine Spirit\nwhich Christ Himself told us that He had come to cast upon the earth,\nand yearned, in a passion of desire, to see kindled. The very frequent\nuse of the emblem in this same signification throughout Scripture, I\nsuppose I need not recall to you. It seems to me that the only worthy\ninterpretation of the words before us, which goes down into their\ndepths and harmonises with the whole of the rest of the teaching of\nScripture, is that which recognises these words of my text as no\nunwelcome threat, as no bitter necessity, but as a joyful promise\nbringing to men, laden and burdened with their sins, the good news\nthat it is possible for them to be purged from them entirely by the\nfiery ministration of that Divine Spirit. Just as we take a piece of\nfoul clay and put it into the furnace, and can see, as it gets\nred-hot, the stains melt away, as a cloud does in the blue, from its\nsurface, so if we will plunge ourselves into the influences of that\ndivine power which Christ has come to communicate to the world, our\nsin and all our impurities will melt from off us, and we shall be\nclean. No amount of scrubbing with soap and water will do it. The\nstain is a great deal too deep for that, and a mightier solvent than\nany that we can apply, if unaided and unsupplied from above, is needed\nto make us clean. 'Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean,'\nespecially when the would-be bringer is himself the unclean thing?\nSurely not one. Unless there be a power _ab extra_, unparticipant of\nman's evils, and yet capable of mingling with the evil man's inmost\nnature, and dealing with it, then I believe that universal experience\nand our individual experience tell us that there is no hope that we\nshall ever get rid of our transgressions.\n\nBrethren, for a man by his own unaided effort, however powerful,\ncontinuous, and wisely directed it may be, to cleanse himself utterly\nfrom his iniquity, is as hopeless as it would be for him to sit down\nwith a hammer and a chisel and try by mechanical means to get all the\niron out of a piece of ironstone. The union is chemical, not\nmechanical. And so hammers and chisels will only get a very little of\nthe metal out. The one solvent is fire. Put the obstinate crude ore\ninto your furnace, and get the temperature up, and the molten metal\nwill run clear. There should be mountains of scoriae, the dross and\nrelics of our abandoned sins, around us all.\n\nIf we desire to be delivered, let us go into the fire. It will burn up\nall our evil, and it will burn up nothing else. Keep close to Christ.\nLay your hearts open to the hallowing influences of the motives and\nthe examples that lie in the story of His life and death. Seek for the\nfiery touch of that transforming Spirit, and be sure that you quench\nHim not, nor grieve Him. And then your weakness will be reinvigorated\nby celestial powers, and the live coal upon your lips will burn up all\nyour iniquity.\n\nBut, subordinately to this deepest meaning, as I take it, of the great\nsymbol of our text, let me remind you of another possible application\nof it, which follows from the preceding. God's Spirit cleanses men\nmainly by raising their spirits to a higher temperature. For coldness\nis akin to sin, and heavenly warmth is akin to righteousness.\nEnthusiasm always ennobles, delivers men, even on the lower reaches of\nlife and conduct from many a meanness and many a sin. And when it\nbecomes a warmth of spirit kindled by the reception of the fire of\nGod, then it becomes the solvent which breaks the connection between\nme and my evil. It is the cold Christian who makes no progress in\nconquering his sin. The one who is filled with the love of God, and\nhas the ardent convictions and the burning enthusiasm which that love\nought to produce in our hearts, is the man who will conquer and eject\nhis evils.\n\nNor must we forget that there is still another possible application of\nthe words. For whilst, on the one hand, the Divine Spirit's method of\ndelivering us is very largely that of imparting to us the warmth of\nardent, devout emotion; on the other hand, a part of this method is\nthe passing of us through the fiery trials and outward disciplines of\nlife. 'Every one shall be salted with fire' in that sense. And we have\nlearned, dear brethren, but little of the loving kindness of the Lord\nif we are not able to say, 'I have grown more in likeness to Jesus\nChrist by rightly accepted sorrows than by anything besides.' Be not\nafraid of calamities; be not stumbled by disaster. Take the fiery\ntrial which is sent to you as being intended to bring about, at the\nlast, the discovery 'unto praise and honour and glory' of your faith,\nthat is 'much more precious than gold that perisheth, though it be\ntried with fire.' 'Every one shall be salted with fire,' the Christian\nlaw of life is, Submit to the fiery cleansing. Alas! alas! for the\nmany thousands of professing Christians who are wrapping themselves in\nsuch thick folds of non-conducting material that that fiery energy can\nonly play on the surface of their lives, instead of searching them to\nthe depths. Do you see to it, dear brethren, that you lay open your\nwhole natures, down to the very inmost roots, to the penetrating,\nsearching, cleansing power of that Spirit. And let us all go and say\nto Him, 'Search me, O God! and try me, and see if there be any wicked\nway in me.'\n\nII. Notice the painfulness of this fiery cleansing.\n\nThe same ideas substantially are conveyed in my text as are expressed,\nin different imagery, by the solemn words that precede it. The\n'salting with fire' comes substantially to the same thing as the\namputation of the hand and foot, and the plucking out of the eye, that\ncause to stumble. The metaphor expresses a painful process. It is no\npleasant thing to submit the bleeding stump to the actual cautery, and\nto press it, all sensitive, upon the hot plate that will stop the flow\nof blood. But such pain of shrinking nerves is to be borne, and to be\ncourted, if we are wise, rather than to carry the hand or the eye that\nled astray unmutilated into total destruction. Surely that is common\nsense.\n\nThe process is painful because we are weak. The highest ideal of\nChristian progress would be realised if one of the metaphors with\nwhich our Lord expresses it were adequate to cover the whole ground,\nand we grew as the wheat grows, 'first the blade, then the ear, after\nthat the full corn in the ear.' But the tranquillity of vegetable\ngrowth, and the peaceful progress which it symbolises, are not all\nthat you and I have to expect. Emblems of a very different kind have\nto be associated with that of the quiet serenity of the growing corn,\nin order to describe all that a Christian man has to experience in the\nwork of becoming like his Master. It is a fight as well as a growth;\nit is a building requiring our continuity of effort, as well as a\ngrowth. There is something to be got rid of as well as much to be\nappropriated. We do not only need to become better, we need to become\nless bad. Squatters have camped on the land, and cling to it and hold\nit _vi et armis_; and these have to be ejected before peaceful\nsettlement is possible.\n\nOne might go on multiplying metaphors _ad libitum_, in order to bring\nout the one thought that it needs huge courage to bear being\nsanctified, or, if you do not like the theological word, to bear being\nmade better. It is no holiday task, and unless we are willing to have\na great deal that is against the grain done to us, and in us, and by\nus, we shall never achieve it. We have to accept the pain. Desires\nhave to be thwarted, and that is not pleasant. Self has to be\nsuppressed, and that is not delightsome. A growing conviction of the\ndepth of one's own evil has to be cherished, and that is not a\ngrateful thought for any of us. Pains external, which are felt by\nreason of disciplinary sorrows, are not worthy to be named in the same\nday as those more recondite and inward agonies. But, brother, they are\nall 'light' as compared with the exceeding weight of 'glory,' coming\nfrom conformity to the example of our Master, which they prepare for\nus.\n\nAnd so I bring you Christ's message: He will have no man to enlist in\nHis army under false pretences. He will not deceive any of us by\ntelling us that it is all easy work and plain sailing. Salting by fire\ncan never be other than to the worse self an agony, just because it is\nto the better self a rapture. And so let us make up our minds that no\nman is taken to heaven in his sleep, and that the road is a rough one,\njudging from the point of view of flesh and sense; but though rough,\nnarrow, often studded with sharp edges, like the plough coulters that\nthey used to lay in the path in the old rude ordeals, it still leads\nstraight to the goal, and bleeding feet are little to pay for a seat\nat Christ's right hand.\n\nIII. Lastly, notice the preservative result of this painful cleansing.\n\nOur Lord brings together, in our text, as is often His wont, two\napparently contradictory ideas, in order, by the paradox, to fix our\nattention the more vividly upon His words. Fire destroys; salt\npreserves. They are opposites. But yet the opposites may be united in\none mighty reality, a fire which preserves and does not destroy. The\ndeepest truth is that the cleansing fire which the Christ will give us\npreserves us, because it destroys that which is destroying us. If you\nkill the germs of putrefaction in a hit of dead flesh, you preserve\nthe flesh; and if you bring to bear upon a man the power which will\nkill the thing that is killing him, its destructive influence is the\ncondition of its conserving one.\n\nAnd so it is, in regard to that great spiritual influence which Jesus\nChrist is ready to give to every one of us. It slays that which is\nslaying us, for our sins destroy in us the true life of a man, and\nmake us but parables of walking death. When the three Hebrews were\ncast into the fiery furnace in Babylon, the flames burned nothing but\ntheir bonds, and they walked at liberty in the fire. And so it will be\nwith us. We shall be preserved by that which slays the sins that would\notherwise slay us.\n\nLet me lay on your hearts before I close the solemn alternative to\nwhich I have already referred, and which is suggested by the\nconnection of my text with the preceding words. There is a fire that\ndestroys and is not quenched. Christ's previous words are much too\nmetaphorical for us to build dogmatic definitions upon. But Jesus\nChrist did not exaggerate. If here and now sin has so destructive an\neffect upon a man, O, who will venture to say that he knows the limits\nof its murderous power in that future life, when retribution shall\nbegin with new energy and under new conditions? Brethren, whilst I\ndare not enlarge, I still less dare to suppress; and I ask you to\nremember that not I, or any man, but Jesus Christ Himself, has put\nbefore each of us this alternative--either the fire unquenchable,\nwhich destroys a man, or the merciful fire, which slays his sins and\nsaves him alive.\n\nSocial reformers, philanthropists, you that have tried and failed to\novercome your evil, and who feel the loathly thing so intertwisted\nwith your being that to pluck it from your heart is to tear away the\nvery heart's walls themselves, here is a hope for you. Closely as our\nevil is twisted in with the fibres of our character, there is a hand\nthat can untwine the coils, and cast away the sin, and preserve the\nsoul. And although we sometimes feel as if our sinfulness and our sin\nwere so incorporated with ourselves that it made oneself, with a man's\nhead and a serpent's tail, let us take the joyful assurance that if we\ntrust ourselves to Christ, and open our hearts to His power, we can\nshake off the venomous beast into the fire and live a fuller life,\nbecause the fire has consumed that which would otherwise have consumed\nus.\n\n\n\n'SALT IN YOURSELVES'\n\n\n'Have salt in yourselves, and have peace one with another.'--Mark ix.\n50.\n\nIn the context 'salt' is employed to express the preserving,\npurifying, divine energy which is otherwise spoken of as 'fire.' The\ntwo emblems produce the same result. They both salt--that is, they\ncleanse and keep. And if in the one we recognise the quick energy of\nthe Divine Spirit as the central idea, no less are we to see the same\ntypified under a slightly different aspect in the other. The fire\ntransforms into its own substance and burns away all the grosser\nparticles. The salt arrests corruption, keeps off destruction, and\ndiffuses its sanative influence through all the particles of the\nsubstance with which it comes in contact. And in both metaphors it is\nthe operation of God's cleansing Spirit, in its most general form,\nthat is set forth, including all the manifold ways by which God deals\nwith us to purge us from our iniquity, to free us from the death which\ntreads close on the heels of wrongdoing, the decomposition and\ndissolution which surely follow on corruption.\n\nThis the disciples are exhorted to have in themselves that they may be\nat peace one with another. Perhaps we shall best discover the whole\nforce of this saying by dealing--\n\nI. With the symbol itself and the ideas derived from it.\n\nThe salt cleanses, arrests corruption which impends over the dead\nmasses, sweetens and purifies, and so preserves from decay and\ndissolution. It works by contact, and within the mass. It thus stands\nas an emblem of the cleansing which God brings, both in respect (a) to\nthat on which it operates, (b) to the purpose of its application, and\n(c) to the manner in which it produces its effects.\n\n(a) That on which it operates.\n\nThere is implied here a view of human nature, not flattering but true.\nIt is compared with a dead thing, in which the causes that bring about\ncorruption are already at work, with the sure issue of destruction.\nThis in its individual application comes to the assertion of sinful\ntendency and actual sin as having its seat and root in all our souls,\nso that the present condition is corruption, and the future issue is\ndestruction. The consequent ideas are that any power which is to\ncleanse must come from without, not from within; that purity is not to\nbe won by our own efforts, and that there is no disposition in human\nnature to make these efforts. There is no recuperative power in human\nnature. True, there may be outward reformation of habits, etc., but,\nif we grasp the thought that the taproot of sin is selfishness, this\nimpotence becomes clearer, and it is seen that sin affects all our\nbeing, and that therefore the healing must come from beyond us.\n\n(b) The purpose--namely, cleansing.\n\nIn salt we may include the whole divine energy; the Word, the Christ,\nthe Spirit. So the intention of the Gospel is mainly to make clean.\nPreservation is a consequence of that.\n\n(c) The manner of its application.\n\nInward, penetrating, by contact; but mainly the great peculiarity of\nChristian ethics is that the inner life is dealt with first, the will\nand the heart, and afterwards the outward conduct.\n\nII. The part which we have to take in this cleansing process.\n\n'Have salt' is a command; and this implies that while all the\ncleansing energy comes from God, the working of it on our souls\ndepends on ourselves.\n\n(a) Its original reception depends on our faith.\n\nThe 'salt' is here, but our contact with it is established by our\nacceptance of it. There is no magical cleansing; but it must be\nreceived within if we would share in its operation.\n\n(b) Its continuous energy is not secured without our effort.\n\nLet us just recall the principle already referred to, that the 'salt'\nimplies the whole cleansing divine energies, and ask what are these?\nThe Bible variously speaks of men as being cleansed by the 'blood of\nChrist,' by the 'truth,' by the 'Spirit.' Now, it is not difficult to\nbring all these into one focus, viz., that the Spirit of God cleanses\nus by bringing the truth concerning Christ to bear on our\nunderstandings and hearts.\n\nWe are sanctified in proportion as we are coming under the influence\nof Christian truth, which, believed by our understandings and our\nhearts, supplies motives to our wills which lead us to holiness by\ncopying the example of Christ.\n\nHence the main principle is that the cleansing energy operates on us\nin proportion as we are influenced by the truths of the Gospel.\n\nAgain, it works in proportion as we seek for, and submit to, the\nguidance of God's Holy Spirit.\n\nIn proportion as we are living in communion with Christ.\n\nIn proportion as we seek to deny ourselves and put away those evil\nthings which 'quench the Spirit.'\n\nThis great grace, then, is not ours without our own effort. No\noriginal endowment is enough to keep us right. There must be the daily\ncontact with, and constant renewing of the Holy Ghost. Hence arises a\nsolemn appeal to all Christians.\n\nNote the independence of the Christian character.\n\n'In yourselves.' 'The water that I shall give him shall be in him a\nfountain,' etc. Not, therefore, derived from the world, nor at\nsecond-hand from other men, but you have access to it for yourselves.\nSee that you use the gift. 'Hold fast that which thou hast,' for there\nare enemies to withstand--carelessness, slothfulness, and\nself-confidence, etc.\n\nIII. The relation to one another of those who possess this energy.\n\nIn proportion as Christians have salt in themselves, they will be at\npeace with one another. Remember that all sin is selfishness;\ntherefore if we are cleansed from it, that which leads to war,\nalienation, and coldness will be removed. Even in this world there\nwill be an anticipatory picture of the perfect peace which will abound\nwhen all are holy. Even now this great hope should make our mutual\nChristian relations very sweet and helpful.\n\nThus emerges the great principle that the foundation of the only real\nlove among men must be laid in holiness of heart and life. Where the\nSpirit of God is working on a heart, there the seeds of evil passions\nare stricken out. The causes of enmity and disturbance are being\nremoved. Men quarrel with each other because their pride is offended,\nor because their passionate desires after earthly things are crossed\nby a successful rival, or because they deem themselves not\nsufficiently respected by others. The root of all strife is self-love.\nIt is the root of all sin. The cleansing which takes away the root\nremoves in the same proportion the strife which grows from it. We\nshould not be so ready to stand on our rights if we remembered how we\ncome to have any hopes at all. We should not be so ready to take\noffence if we thought more of Him who is not soon angry. All the train\nof alienations, suspicions, earthly passions, which exist in our minds\nand are sure to issue in quarrels or bad blood, will be put down if we\nhave 'salt in ourselves.'\n\nThis makes a very solemn appeal to Christian men. The Church is the\ngarden where this peace should flourish. The disgrace of the Church is\nits envyings, jealousies, ill-natured scandal, idle gossip, love of\npreeminence, willingness to impute the worst possible motives to one\nanother, sharp eyes for our brother's failings and none for our own. I\nam not pleading for any mawkish sentimentality, but for a manly\npeacefulness which comes from holiness. The holiest natures are always\nthe most generous.\n\nWhat a contrast the Church ought to present to the prevailing tone in\nthe world! Does it? Why not? Because we do not possess the 'salt.' The\ndove flees from the cawing of rooks and the squabbling of kites and\nhawks.\n\nThe same principle applies to all our human affections. Our loves of\nall sorts are safe only when they are pure. Contrast the society based\non common possession of the one Spirit with the companionships which\nrepose on sin, or only on custom or neighbourhood. In all these there\nare possibilities of moral peril.\n\nThe same principle intensified gives us a picture of heaven and of\nhell. In the one are the 'solemn troops and sweet societies'; in the\nother, no peace, no confidence, no bonds, only isolation, because sin\nwhich is selfishness lies at the foundation of the awful condition.\n\nFriends, without that salt our souls are dead and rotting. Here is the\ngreat cure. Make it your own. So purified, you will be preserved, but,\non the other hand, unchecked sin leads to quick destruction.\n\nThe dead, putrefying carcass--what a picture of a soul abandoned to\nevil and fit only for Gehenna!\n\n\n\nCHILDREN AND CHILDLIKE MEN\n\n\n'And they brought young children to Him, that He should touch them:\nand His disciples rebuked those that brought them. 14. But when Jesus\nsaw it, He was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little\nchildren to come unto Me, and forbid them not: for of such is the\nkingdom of God. 15. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive\nthe kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.'\n--Mark x. 13-15.\n\nIt was natural that the parents should have wanted Christ's blessing,\nso that they might tell their children in later days that His hand had\nbeen laid on their heads, and that He had prayed for them. And Christ\ndid not think of it as a mere superstition. The disciples were not so\nakin to the children as He was, and they were a great deal more tender\nof His dignity than He. They thought of this as an interruption\ndisturbing their high intercourse with Christ. 'These children are\nalways in the way, this is tiresome,' etc.\n\nI. Christ blessing children.\n\nIt is a beautiful picture: the great Messiah with a child in His arms.\nWe could not think of Moses or of Paul in such an attitude. Without\nit, we should have wanted one of the sweetest, gentlest, most human\ntraits in His character; and how world-wide in its effect that act has\nbeen! How many a mother has bent over her child with deeper love; how\nmany a parent has felt the sacredness of the trust more vividly; how\nmany a mother has been drawn nearer to Christ; and how many a little\nchild has had childlike love to Him awakened by it; how much of\npractical benevolence and of noble sacrifice for children's welfare,\nhow many great institutions, have really sprung from this one deed!\n\nAnd, if we turn from its effects to its meaning, it reveals Christ's\nlove for children:--in its human side, as part of His character as\nman; in its deeper aspect as a revelation of the divine nature. It\ncorrects dogmatic errors by making plain that, prior to all ceremonies\nor to repentance and faith, little children are loved and blessed by\nHim. Unconscious infants as these were folded in His arms and love. It\nputs away all gloomy and horrible thoughts which men have had about\nthe standing of little children.\n\nThis is an act of Christ to infants expressive of His love to them,\nHis care over them, their share in His salvation. Baptism is an act of\nman's, a symbol of his repentance and dying to sin and rising to a new\nlife in Christ, a profession of his faith, an act of obedience to his\nLord. It teaches nothing as to the relation of infants to the love of\nJesus or to salvation. It does not follow that because that love is\nmost sure and precious, baptism must needs be a sign of it. The\nquestion, what does baptism mean, must be determined by examination of\ntexts which speak about baptism; not by a side-light from a text which\nspeaks about something else. There is no more reason for making\nbaptism proclaim that Jesus Christ loves children than for making it\nproclaim that two and two make four.\n\nII. The child's nearness to Christ.\n\n'Of such is the kingdom.' 'Except ye be converted and become like\nlittle children,' etc. Now this does not refer to innocence; for, as a\nmatter of fact, children are not innocent, as all schoolmasters and\nnurses know, whatever sentimental poets may say. Innocence is not a\nqualification for admission to the kingdom. And yet it is true that\n'heaven lies about us in our infancy,' and that we are further off\nfrom it than when we were children. Nor does it mean that children are\nnaturally the subjects of the kingdom, but only that the\ncharacteristics of the child are those which the man must have, in\norder to enter the kingdom; that their natural disposition is such as\nChrist requires to be directed to Him; or, in other words, that\nchildhood has a special adaptation to Christianity. For instance, take\ndependence, trust, simplicity, unconsciousness, and docility.\n\nThese are the very characteristics of childhood, and these are the\nvery emotions of mind and heart which Christianity requires. Add the\nchild's strong faculty of imagination and its implicit belief; making\nthe form of Christianity as the story of a life so easy to them. And\nwe may add too: the absence of intellectual pride; the absence of the\nhabit of dallying with moral truth. Everybody is to the child either a\n'good' man or a 'bad.' They have an intense realisation of the unseen;\nan absence of developed vices and hard worldliness; a faculty of\nliving in the present, free from anxious care and worldly hearts. But\nwhile thus they have special adaptation for receiving, they too need\nto come to Christ. These characteristics do not make Christians. They\nare to be directed to Christ. 'Suffer them to come unto Me,' the\nyoungest child needs to, can, ought to, come to Christ. And how\nbeautiful their piety is, 'Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings\nThou hast perfected praise.' Their fresh, unworn trebles struck on\nChrist's ear. Children ought to grow up in Christian households,\n'innocent from much transgression.' We ought to expect them to grow up\nChristian.\n\nIII. The child and the Church.\n\nThe child is a pattern to us men. We are to learn of them as well as\nteach them; what they are naturally, we are to strive to become, not\nchildish but childlike. 'Even as a weaned child' (see Psalm cxxxi.).\nThe child-spirit is glorified in manhood. It is possible for us to\nretain it, and lose none of the manhood. 'In malice be ye children,\nbut in understanding be men.' The spirit of the kingdom is that of\nimmortal youth.\n\nThe children are committed to our care.\n\nThe end of all training and care is that they should by voluntary act\ndraw near to Him. This should be the aim in Sunday schools, for\ninstance, and in families, and in all that we do for the poor around\nus.\n\nSee that we do not hinder their coming. This is a wide principle,\nviz., not to do anything which may interfere with those who are weaker\nand lower than we are finding their way to Jesus. The Church, and we\nas individual Christians, too often hinder this 'coming.'\n\nDo not hinder by the presentation of the Gospel in a repellent form,\neither hardly dogmatic or sour.\n\nDo not hinder by the requirement of such piety as is unnatural to a\nchild.\n\nDo not hinder by inconsistencies. This is a warning for Christian\nparents in particular.\n\nDo not hinder by neglect. '_Despise_ not one of these little ones.'\n\n\n\nALMOST A DISCIPLE\n\n\n'And when He was gone forth into the way, there came one running, and\nkneeled to Him, and asked Him. Good Master, what shall I do that I may\ninherit eternal life! 18. And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou Me\ngood! there is none good but one, that is, God. 19. Thou knowest the\ncommandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do\nnot bear false witness, Defraud not, Honour thy father and mother. 20.\nAnd he answered and said unto Him, Master, all these have I observed\nfrom my youth, 21. Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto\nhim, One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast,\nand give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and\ncome, take up the cross, and follow Me. 22. And he was sad at that\nsaying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions. 23. And\nJesus looked round about and saith unto His disciples, How hardly\nshall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God! 24. And the\ndisciples were astonished at His words. But Jesus answereth again, and\nsaith unto them, Children, how hard is it for them that trust in\nriches to enter into the kingdom of God! 25. It is easier for a camel\nto go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into\nthe kingdom of God. 26. And they were astonished out of measure,\nsaying among themselves, Who then can be saved? 27. And Jesus looking\nupon them saith, With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with\nGod all things are possible.'--Mark x. 17-27.\n\nThere were courage, earnestness, and humility in this young ruler's\nimpulsive casting of himself at Christ's feet in the way, with such a\nquestion. He was not afraid to recognise a teacher in Him whom his\nclass scorned and hated; he was deeply sincere in his wish to possess\neternal life, and in his belief that he was ready to do whatever was\nnecessary for that end; he bowed himself as truly as he bent his knees\nbefore Jesus, and the noble enthusiasm of youth breathed in his\ndesires, his words, and his gesture.\n\nBut his question betrayed the defect which poisoned the much that was\nright and lovable in him. He had but a shallow notion of what was\n'good,' as is indicated by his careless ascription of goodness to one\nof whom he knew so little as he did of Jesus, and by his conception\nthat it was a matter of deeds. He is too sure of himself; for he\nthinks that he is ready and able to do all good deeds, if only they\nare pointed out to him.\n\nHow little he understood the resistance of 'the mind of the flesh' to\ndiscerned duty! Probably he had had no very strong inclinations to\ncontend against, in living the respectable life that had been his. It\nis only when we row against the stream that we find out how fast it\nruns. He was wrong about the connection of good deeds and eternal\nlife, for he thought of them as done by himself, and so of buying it\nby his own efforts. Fatal errors could not have been condensed in\nbriefer compass, or presented in conjunction with more that is\nadmirable, than in his eager question, asked so modestly and yet so\npresumptuously.\n\nOur Lord answers with a coldness which startles; but it was meant to\nrouse, like a dash of icy water flung in the face. 'Why callest thou\nMe good?' is more than a waving aside of a compliment, or a lesson in\naccuracy of speech. It rebukes the young man's shallow conception of\ngoodness, as shown by the facility with which he bestowed the epithet.\n'None is good save one, even God,' cuts up by the roots his notion of\nthe possibility of self-achieved goodness, since it traces all human\ngoodness to its source in God. If He is the only good, then we cannot\nperform good acts by our own power, but must receive power from Him.\nHow, then, can any man 'inherit eternal life' by good deeds, which he\nis only able to do because God has poured some of His own goodness\ninto him? Jesus shatters the young man's whole theory, as expressed in\nhis question, at one stroke.\n\nBut while His reply bears directly on the errors in the question, it\nhas a wider significance. Either Jesus is here repudiating the notion\nof His own sinlessness, and acknowledging, in contradiction to every\nother disclosure of His self-consciousness, that He too was not\nthrough and through good, or else He is claiming to be filled with\nGod, the source of all goodness, in a wholly unique manner. It is a\ntremendous alternative, but one which has to be faced. While one is\nthankful if men even imperfectly apprehend the character and nature of\nJesus, one cannot but feel that the question may fairly be put to the\nmany who extol the beauty of His life, and deny His divinity, 'Why\ncallest thou Me good?' Either He is 'God manifest in the flesh,' or He\nis not 'good.'\n\nThe remainder of Christ's answer tends to deepen the dawning\nconviction of the impossibility of meriting eternal life by acts of\ngoodness, apart from dependence on God. He refers to the second half\nof the Decalogue only, not as if the first were less important, but\nbecause the breaches of the second are more easily brought to\nconsciousness. In thus answering, Jesus takes the standpoint of the\nlaw, but for the purpose of bringing to the very opposite conviction\nfrom that which the young ruler expresses in reply. He declares that\nhe has kept them all from his youth. Jesus would have had him confess\nthat in them was a code too high to be fully obeyed. 'By the law is\nthe knowledge of sin,' but it had not done its work in this young man.\nHis shallow notion of goodness besets and blinds him still. He is\nevidently thinking about external deeds, and is an utter stranger to\nthe depths of his own heart. It was an answer betraying great\nshallowness in his conception of duty and in his self-knowledge.\n\nIt is one which is often repeated still. How many of us are there who,\nif ever we cast a careless glance over our lives, are quite satisfied\nwith their external respectability! As long as the chambers that look\nto the street are fairly clean, many think that all is right. But what\nis there rotting and festering down in the cellars? Do we ever go down\nthere with the 'candle of the Lord' in our hands? If we do, the\nruler's boast, 'All these have I kept,' will falter into 'All these\nhave I broken.'\n\nBut let us be thankful for the love that shone in Christ's eyes as He\nlooked on him. We may blame; He loved. Jesus saw the fault, but He saw\nthe longing to be better. The dim sense of insufficiency which had\ndriven this questioner to Him was clear to that all-knowing and\nall-loving heart. Do not let us harshly judge the mistakes of those\nwho would fain be taught, nor regard the professions of innocence,\nwhich come from defective perception, as if they were the proud\nutterances of a Pharisee.\n\nBut Christ's love is firm, and can be severe. It never pares down His\nrequirements to make discipleship easier. Rather it attracts by\nheightening them, and insisting most strenuously on the most difficult\nsurrender. That is the explanation of the stringent demand next made\nby Him. He touched the poisonous swelling as with a sharp lancet when\nHe called for surrender of wealth. We may be sure that it was this\nman's money which stood between him and eternal life. If something\nelse had been his chief temptation, that something would have been\nsignalised as needful to be given up. There is no general principle of\nconduct laid down here, but a specific injunction determined by the\nindividual's character. All diseases are not treated with the same\nmedicines. The command is but Christ's application of His broad\nrequirement, 'If thine eye causeth thee to stumble, pluck it out.' The\nprinciple involved is, surrender what hinders entire following of\nJesus. When that sacrifice is made, we shall be in contact with the\nfountain of goodness, and have eternal life, not as payment, but as a\ngift.\n\n'His countenance fell,' or, according to Mark's picturesque word,\n'became lowering,' like a summer sky when thunder-clouds gather. The\nhope went out of his heart, and the light faded from his eager face.\nThe prick of the sharp spear had burst the bubble of his superficial\nearnestness. He had probably never had anything like so repugnant a\nduty forced upon him, and he cannot bring himself to yield. Like so\nmany of us, he says, 'I desire eternal life,' but when it comes to\ngiving up the dearest thing he recoils. 'Anything else, Lord, thou\nshalt have, and welcome, but not that.' And Christ says, 'That, and\nnothing else, I must have, if thou art to have Me.' So this man 'went\naway sorrowful.' His earnestness evaporated; he kept his possessions,\nand he lost Christ. A prudent bargain! But we may hope that, since 'he\nwent away sorrowful,' he felt the ache of something lacking, that the\nold longings came back, and that he screwed up his resolution to make\n'the great surrender,' and counted his wealth 'but dung, that he might\nwin Christ.'\n\nWhat a world of sad and disappointed love there would be in that look\nof Jesus to the disciples, as the young ruler went away with bowed\nhead! How graciously He anticipates their probable censure, and turns\ntheir thoughts rather on themselves, by the acknowledgment that the\nfailure was intelligible, since the condition was hard! How pityingly\nHis thoughts go after the retreating figure! How universal the\napplication of His words! Riches may become a hindrance to entering\nthe kingdom. They do so when they take the first place in the\naffections and in the estimates of good. That danger besets those who\nhave them and those who have them not. Many a poor man is as much\ncaught in the toils of the love of money as the rich are. Jesus\nmodifies the form of His saying when He repeats it in the shape of\n'How hardly shall they that trust in riches,' etc. It is difficult to\nhave, and not to trust in them. Rich men's disadvantages as to living\na self-sacrificing Christian life are great. To Christ's eyes, their\nposition was one to be dreaded rather than to be envied.\n\nSo opposed to current ideas was such a thought, that the disciples,\naccustomed to think that wealth meant happiness, were amazed. If the\nsame doctrine were proclaimed in any great commercial centre to-day,\nit would excite no less astonishment. At least, many Christians and\nothers live as if the opposite were true. Wealth possessed, and not\ntrusted in, but used aright, may become a help towards eternal life;\nbut wealth as commonly regarded and employed by its possessors, and as\nlooked longingly after by others, is a real, and in many cases an\ninsuperable, obstacle to entering the strait gate. As soon drive a\ncamel, humps and load and all, through 'a needle's eye,' as get a man\nwho trusts in the uncertainty of riches squeezed through that portal.\nNo communities need this lesson more than our great cities.\n\nNo wonder that the disciples thought that, if the road was so\ndifficult for rich men, it must be hard indeed. Christ goes even\nfarther. He declares that it is not only hard, but 'impossible,' for a\nman by his own power to tread it. That was exactly what the young man\nhad thought that he could do, if only he were directed.\n\nSo our Lord's closing words in this context apply, not only to the\nimmediately preceding question by the disciples, but may be taken as\nthe great truth conveyed by the whole incident, Man's efforts can\nnever put him in possession of eternal life. He must have God's power\nflowing into him if he is to be such as can enter the kingdom. It is\nthe germ of the subsequent teaching of Paul; 'The gift of God is\neternal life.' What we cannot do, Christ has done for us, and does in\nus. We must yield ourselves to Him, and surrender ourselves, and\nabandon what stands between us and Him, and then eternal life will\nenter into us here, and we shall enter into its perfect possession\nhereafter.\n\n\n\nCHRIST ON THE ROAD TO THE CROSS\n\n\n'And they were in the way going up to Jerusalem; and Jesus went before\nthem: and they were amazed; and as they followed they were afraid.'\n--Mark x. 32.\n\nWe learn from John's Gospel that the resurrection of Lazarus\nprecipitated the determination of the Jewish authorities to put Christ\nto death; and that immediately thereafter there was held the council\nat which, by the advice of Caiaphas, the formal decision was come to.\nThereupon our Lord withdrew Himself into the wilderness which\nstretches south and east of Jerusalem; and remained there for an\nunknown period, preparing Himself for the Cross. Then, full of calm\nresolve, He came forth to die. This is the crisis in our Lord's\nhistory to which my text refers. The graphic narrative of this\nEvangelist sets before us the little company on the steep rocky\nmountain road that leads up from Jericho to Jerusalem; our Lord, far\nin advance of His followers, with a fixed purpose stamped upon His\nface, and something of haste in His stride, and that in His whole\ndemeanour which shed a strange astonishment and awe over the group of\nsilent and uncomprehending disciples.\n\nThat picture has not attracted the attention that it deserves. I think\nif we ponder it with sympathetic imagination helping us, we may get\nfrom it some very great lessons and glimpses of our Lord's inmost\nheart in the prospect of His Cross. And I desire simply to set forth\ntwo or three of the aspects of Christ's character which these words\nseem to me to suggest.\n\nI. We have here, then, first, what, for want of a better name, I would\ncall the heroic Christ.\n\nI use the word to express simply strength of will brought to bear in\nthe resistance to antagonism; and although that is a side of the\nLord's character which is not often made prominent, it is there, and\nought to have its due importance.\n\nWe speak of Him, and delight to think of Him, as the embodiment of all\nloving, gracious, gentle virtues, but Jesus Christ as the ideal man\nunites in Himself what men are in the habit, somewhat superciliously,\nof calling the masculine virtues, as well as those which they somewhat\ncontemptuously designate the feminine. I doubt very much whether that\nis a correct distinction. I think that the heroism of endurance, at\nall events, is far more an attribute of a woman than of a man. But be\nthat as it may, we are to look to Jesus Christ as presenting before us\nthe very type of all which men call heroism in the sense that I have\nexplained, of an iron will, incapable of deflection by any antagonism,\nand which coerces the whole nature to obedience to its behests.\n\nThere is nothing to be done in life without such a will. 'To be weak\nis to be miserable, doing or suffering.' And our Master has set us the\nexample of this; that unless there run through a man's life, like the\niron framework on the top of the spire of Antwerp Cathedral, on which\ngraceful fancies are strung in stone, the rigid bar of an iron purpose\nthat nothing can bend, the life will be nought and the man will be a\nfailure. Christ is the pattern of heroic endurance, and reads to us\nthe lesson to resist and persist, whatever stands between us and our\ngoal.\n\nSo here, the Cross before Him flung out no repelling influence towards\nHim, but rather drew Him to itself. There is no reason that I can find\nfor believing the modern theory of the rationalists' school that our\nLord, in the course of His mission, altered His plan, or gradually had\ndawning upon His mind the conviction that to carry out His purposes He\nmust be a martyr. That seems to me to be an entire misreading of the\nGospel narrative which sets before us much rather this, that from the\nbeginning of our Lord's public career there stood unmistakably before\nHim the Cross as the goal. He entertained no illusions as to His\nreception. He did not come to do certain work, and, finding that He\ncould not do it, accepted the martyr's _r\u00f4le_; but He came for the\ntwofold purpose of serving by His life, and of redeeming by His death.\n'He came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His\nlife a ransom for the many.' And this purpose stood clear before Him,\ndrawing Him to itself all through His career.\n\nBut, further, Christ's character teaches us what is the highest form\nof such strength and tenacity, viz., gentleness. There is no need to\nbe brusque, obstinate, angular, self-absorbed, harsh, because we are\nfixed and determined in our course. These things are the caricatures\nand the diminutions, not the true forms nor the increase, of strength.\nThe most tenacious steel is the most flexible, and he that has the\nmost fixed and definite resolve may be the man that has his heart most\nopen to all human sympathies, and is strong with the almightiness of\ngentleness, and not with the less close-knit strength of roughness and\nof hardness. Christ, because He is perfect love, is perfect power, and\nHis will is fixed because it is love that fixes it. So let us take the\nlesson that the highest type of strength is strength in meekness, and\nthat the Master who, I was going to say, kept His strength of will\nunder, but I more correctly say, manifested His strength of will\nthrough, His gentleness, is the pattern for us.\n\nII. Then again, we see here not only the heroic, but what I may call\nthe self-sacrificing Christ.\n\nWe have not only to consider the fixed will which this incident\nreveals, but to remember the purpose on which it was fixed, and that\nHe was hastening to His Cross. The very fact of our Lord's going back\nto Jerusalem, with that decree of the Sanhedrim still in force, was\ntantamount to His surrender of Himself to death. It was as if, in the\nold days, some excommunicated man with the decree of the Inquisition\npronounced against him had gone into Rome and planted himself in the\nfront of the piazza before the buildings of the Holy Office, and\nlifted up his testimony there. So Christ, knowing that this council\nhas been held, that this decree stands, goes back, investing of set\npurpose His return with all the publicity that He can bring to bear\nupon it. For this once He seems to determine that He will 'cause His\nvoice to be heard in the streets'; He makes as much of a demonstration\nas the circumstances will allow, and so acts in a manner opposite to\nall the rest of His life. Why? Because He had determined to bring the\ncontroversy to an end. Why? Was He flinging away His life in mere\ndespair? Was He sinfully neglecting precautions? Was the same\nfanaticism of martyrdom which has often told upon men, acting upon\nHim? Were these His reasons? No, but He recognised that now that\n'hour' of which He spoke so much had come, and of His own loving will\noffered Himself as our Sacrifice.\n\nIt is all-important to keep in view that Christ's death was His own\nvoluntary act. Whatever external forces were brought to bear in the\naccomplishment of it, He died because He chose to die. The 'cords'\nwhich bound this sacrifice to the horns of the altar were cords woven\nby Himself.\n\nSo I point to the incident of my text, as linking in along with the\nwhole series of incidents marking the last days of our Lord's life, in\norder to stamp upon His death unmistakably this signature, that it was\nHis own act. Therefore the publicity that was given to His entry;\ntherefore His appearance in the Temple; therefore the increased\nsharpness and unmistakableness of His denunciations of the ruling\nclasses, the Pharisees and the scribes. Therefore the whole history of\nthe Passion, all culminating in leaving this one conviction, that He\nhad 'power to lay down His life,' that neither Caiaphas nor Annas, nor\nJudas, nor the band, nor priests, nor the Council, nor Pilate, nor\nHerod, nor soldiers, nor nails, nor cross, nor all together, killed\nJesus, but that Jesus died because He would. The self-sacrifice of the\nLord was not the flinging away of the life that He ought to have\npreserved, nor carelessness, nor the fanaticism of a martyr, nor the\nenthusiasm of a hero and a champion, but it was the voluntary death of\nHim who of His own will became in His death the 'oblation and\nsatisfaction for the sins of the whole world.' Love to us, and\nobedience to the Father whose will He made His own, were the cords\nthat bound Christ to the Cross on which He died. His sacrifice was\nvoluntary; witness this fact that when He saw the Cross at hand He\nstrode before His followers to reach that, the goal of His mission.\n\nIII. I venture to regard the incident as giving us a little glimpse of\nwhat I may call the shrinking Christ.\n\nDo we not see here a trace of something that we all know? May not part\nof the reason for Christ's haste have been that desire which we all\nhave, when some inevitable grief or pain lies before us, to get it\nover soon, and to abbreviate the moments that lie between us and it?\nWas there not something of that feeling in our Lord's sensitive nature\nwhen He said, for instance, 'I have a baptism to be baptized with, and\nhow am I straitened until it be accomplished'? 'I am come to send fire\nupon the earth, and O! how I wish that it were already kindled!' Was\nthere not something of the same feeling, which we cannot call\nimpatient, but which we may call shrinking from the Cross, and\ntherefore seeking to draw the Cross nearer, and have done with it, in\nthe words which He addressed to the betrayer, 'That thou doest, do\nquickly,' as if He were making a last appeal to the man's humanity,\nand in effect saying to him, 'If you have a heart at all, shorten\nthese painful hours, and let us have it over'?\n\nAnd may we not see, in that swift advance in front of the lagging\ndisciples, some trace of the same feeling which we recognise to be so\ntruly human?\n\nChrist _did_ shrink from His Cross. Let us never forget that He\nrecoiled from it, with the simple, instinctive, human shrinking from\npain and death which is a matter of the physical nervous system, and\nhas nothing to do with the will at all. If there had been no shrinking\nfrom it there had been no fixed will. If there had been no natural\ninstinctive drawing back of the physical nature and its connections\nfrom the prospect of pain and death, there had been none of the\nheroism of which I am speaking. Though it does not become us to\ndogmatise about matters of which we know so little, I think we may\nfairly say that that shrinking never rose up into the regions of\nChrist's will; never became a desire; never became a purpose.\nHowsoever the ship might be tossed by the waves, the will always kept\nits level equilibrium. Howsoever the physical nature might incline to\nthis side or to that, the will always kept parallel with the great\nunderlying divine will, the Father's purpose which He had come to\neffect. There was shrinking which was instinctive and human, but it\nnever disturbed the fixed purpose to die. It had so much power over\nHim as to make Him march a little faster to the Cross, but it never\nmade Him turn from it. And so He stands before us as the Conqueror in\na real conflict, as having yielded Himself up by a real surrender, as\nhaving overcome a real difficulty, 'for the joy that was set before\nHim, having endured the Cross, despising the shame.'\n\nIV. So, lastly, I would see here the lonely Christ.\n\nIn front of His followers, absorbed in the thought of what was drawing\nso near, gathering together His powers in order to be ready for the\nstruggle, with His heart full of the love and the pity which impelled\nHim, He is surrounded as with a cloud which shuts Him 'out from their\nsight,' as afterwards the cloud of glory 'received Him.'\n\nWhat a gulf there was between them and Him, between their thoughts and\nHis, as He passed up that rocky way! What were they thinking about?\n'By the way they had disputed amongst themselves which of them should\nbe the greatest.' So far did they sympathise with the Master! So far\ndid they understand Him! Talk about men with unappreciated aims,\nheroes that have lived through a lifetime of misunderstanding and\nnever have had any one to sympathise with them! There never was such a\nlonely man in the world as Jesus Christ. Never was there one that\ncarried so deep In His heart so great a purpose and so great a love,\nwhich none cared a rush about. And those that were nearest Him, and\nloved Him best, loved Him so blunderingly and so blindly that their\nlove must often have been quite as much of a pain as of a joy.\n\nIn His Passion that solitude reached the point of agony. How touching\nin its unconscious pathos is His pleading request, 'Tarry ye here, and\nwatch with Me!' How touching in their revelation of a subsidiary but\nyet very real addition to His pains are His words, 'All ye shall be\noffended because of Me this night.' Oh, dear brethren! every human\nsoul has to go down into the darkness alone, however close may be the\nclasping love which accompanies us to the portal; but the loneliness\nof death was realised by Jesus Christ in a very unique and solemn\nmanner. For round Him there gathered the clouds of a mysterious agony,\nonly faintly typified by the darkness of eclipse which hid the\nmaterial sun in the universe, what time He died.\n\nAnd all this solitude, the solitude of unappreciated aims, and\nunshared purposes, and misunderstood sorrow during life, and the\nsolitude of death with its elements ineffable of atonement;--all this\nsolitude was borne that no human soul, living or dying, might ever be\nlonely any more. 'Lo! I,' whom you all left alone, 'am with you,' who\nleft Me alone, 'even till the end of the world.'\n\nSo, dear brethren, ponder that picture that I have been trying very\nfeebly to set before you, of the heroic, self-sacrificing, shrinking,\nsolitary Saviour. Take Him as your Saviour, your Sacrifice, your\nPattern; and hear Him saying, 'If any man serve Me, let him follow Me,\nand where I am there shall also My servant be.'\n\nAn old ecclesiastical legend conies into my mind at the moment, which\ntells how an emperor won the true Cross in battle from a pagan king,\nand brought it back, with great pomp, to Jerusalem; but found the gate\nwalled up, and an angel standing before it, who said, 'Thou bringest\nback the Cross with pomp and splendour. He that died upon it had shame\nfor His companion; and carried it on His back, barefooted, to\nCalvary.' Then, says the chronicler, the emperor dismounted from his\nsteed, cast off his robes, lifted the sacred Rood on his shoulders,\nand with bare feet advanced to the gate, which opened of itself, and\nhe entered in.\n\n_We_ have to go up the steep rocky road that leads from the plain\nwhere the Dead Sea is, to Jerusalem. Let us follow the Master, as He\nstrides before us, the Forerunner and the Captain of our salvation.\n\n\n\nDIGNITY AND SERVICE\n\n\n'And James and John, the sons of Zebedee, come unto Him, saying,\nMaster, we would that Thou shouldest do for us whatsoever we shall\ndesire. 36. And He said unto them, What would ye that I should do for\nyou? 37. They said unto Him, Grant unto us that we may sit, one on Thy\nright hand, and the other on Thy left hand, in Thy glory. 38. But\nJesus said unto them, Ye know not what ye ask: can ye drink of the cup\nthat I drink of! and he baptized with the baptism that I am baptized\nwith! 39. And they said unto Him, We can. And Jesus said unto them, Ye\nshall indeed drink of the cup that I drink of; and with the baptism\nthat I am baptized withal shall ye be baptized: 40. But to sit on My\nright hand and on My left hand is not Mine to give; but it shall be\ngiven to them for whom it its prepared. 41. And when the Ten heard it,\nthey began to be much displeased with James and John. 42. But Jesus\ncalled them to Him, and saith unto them, Ye know that they which are\naccounted to rule over the Gentiles exercise lordship over them; and\ntheir great ones exercise authority upon them. 43. But so shall it not\nbe among you: but whosoever will be great among you, shall be your\nminister: 44. And whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be\nservant of all. 45. For even the Son of Man came not to be ministered\nunto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many.'--Mark\nx. 35-45.\n\nHow lonely Jesus was! While He strode before the Twelve, absorbed in\nthoughts of the Cross to which He was pressing, they, as they\nfollowed, 'amazed' and 'afraid,' were thinking not of what He would\nsuffer, but of what they might gain. He saw the Cross. They understood\nlittle of it, but supposed that somehow it would bring in the kingdom,\nand they dimly saw thrones for themselves. Hence James and John try to\nsecure the foremost places, and hence the others' anger at what they\nthought an unfair attempt to push in front of them. What a contrast\nbetween Jesus, striding on ahead with 'set' face, and the Twelve\nunsympathetic and self-seeking, lagging behind to squabble about\npre-eminence! We have in this incident two parts: the request and its\nanswer, the indignation of the Ten and its rebuke. The one sets forth\nthe qualifications for the highest place in the kingdom; the other,\nthe paradox that pre-eminence there is service.\n\nJames and John were members of the group of original disciples who\nstood nearest to Jesus, and of the group of three whom He kept\nspecially at His side. Their present place might well lead them to\nexpect pre-eminence in the kingdom, but their trick was mean, as being\nan underhand attempt to forestall Peter, the remaining one of the\nthree, as putting forward their mother as spokeswoman, and as\nendeavouring to entrap Jesus into promising before the disclosure of\nwhat was desired. Matthew tells that the mother was brought in order\nto make the request, and that Jesus brushed her aside by directing His\nanswer to her sons ('Ye know not what _ye_ ask'). The attempt to get\nJesus' promise without telling what was desired betrayed the\nconsciousness that the wish was wrong. His guarded counter-question\nwould chill them and make their disclosure somewhat hesitating.\n\nNote the strangely blended good and evil of the request. The gold was\nmingled with clay; selfishness and love delighting in being near Him\nhad both place in it. We may well recognise our own likenesses in\nthese two with their love spotted with self-regard, and be grateful\nfor the gentle answer which did not blame the desire for pre-eminence,\nbut sought to test the love. It was not only to teach them, that He\nbrought them back to think of the Cross which must precede the glory,\nbut because His own mind was so filled with it that He saw that glory\nonly as through the darkness which had to be traversed to reach it.\nBut for us all the question is solemn and heart-searching.\n\nWas not the answer, 'We are able,' too bold? They knew neither what\nthey asked nor what they promised; but just as their ignorant question\nwas partly redeemed by its love, their ignorant vow was ennobled by\nits very rashness, as well as by the unfaltering love in it. They did\nnot know what they were promising, but they knew that they loved Him\nso well that to share anything with Him would be blessed. So it was\nnot in their own strength that the swift answer rushed to their lips,\nbut in the strength of a love that makes heroes out of cowards. And\nthey nobly redeemed their pledge. We, too, if we are Christ's, have\nthe same question put to us, and, weak and timid as we are, may\nventure to give the same answer, trusting to His strength.\n\nThe full declaration of what had been only implied in the previous\nquestion follows. Jesus tells the two, and us all, that there are\ndegrees in nearness to Him and in dignity in that future, but that the\nhighest places are not given by favouritism, but attained by fitness.\nHe does not deny that He gives, but only that He gives without regard\nto qualification. Paul expected the crown from 'the righteous Judge,'\nand one of these two brethren was chosen to record His promise of\ngiving a seat on His throne to all that overcome. 'Those for whom it\nis prepared' are those who are prepared for it, and the preparation\nlies in 'being made conformable to His death,' and being so joined to\nHim that in spirit and mind we are partakers of His sufferings,\nwhether we are called to partake of them in outward form or not.\n\nThe two had had their lesson, and next the Ten were to have theirs.\nThe conversation with the former had been private, for it was hearing\nof it that made the others so angry. We can imagine the hot words\namong them as they marched behind Jesus, and how they felt ashamed\nalready when 'He called them.' What they were to be now taught was not\nso much the qualifications for pre-eminence in the kingdom, whether\nhere or hereafter, as the meaning of preeminence and the service to\nwhich it binds. In the world, the higher men are, the more they are\nserved; in Christ's kingdom, both in its imperfect earthly and in its\nperfect heavenly form, the higher men are, the more they serve.\nSo-called 'Christian' nations are organised on the former un-Christian\nbasis still. But wherever pre-eminence is not used for the general\ngood, there authority rests on slippery foundations, and there will\nnever be social wellbeing or national tranquillity until Christ's law\nof dignity for service and dignity by service shapes and sweetens\nsociety. 'But it is not so among you' laid down the constitution for\nearth, and not only for some remote heaven; and every infraction of\nit, sooner or later, brings a Nemesis.\n\nThe highest is to be the lowest; for He who is 'higher than the\nhighest' has shown that such is the law which He obeys. The point in\nthe heaven that is highest above our heads is in twelve hours deepest\nbeneath our feet. Fellowship in Christ's sufferings was declared to be\nthe qualification for our sharing in His dignity. His lowly service\nand sacrificial death are now declared to be the pattern for our use\nof dignity. Still the thought of the Cross looms large before Jesus,\nand He is not content with presenting Himself as the pattern of\nservice only, but calls on His disciples to take Him as the pattern of\nutter self-surrender also. We cannot enter on the great teaching of\nthese words, but can only beseech all who hear them to note how Jesus\nsets forth His death as the climax of His work, without which even\nthat life of ministering were incomplete; how He ascribes to it the\npower of ransoming men from bondage and buying them back to God; and\nof how He presents even these unparalleled sufferings, which bear or\nneed no repetition as long as the world lasts, as yet being the\nexample to which our lives must be conformed. So His lesson to the\nangry Ten merges into that to the self-seeking two, and declares to\neach of us that, if we are ever to win a place at His right hand in\nHis glory, we must here take a place with Him in imitating His life of\nservice and His death of self-surrender for men's good. 'If we endure,\nwe shall also reign with Him.'\n\n\n\nBARTIMAEUS\n\n\nBlind Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, sat by the highway side\nbegging.'--Mark x. 46.\n\nThe narrative of this miracle is contained in all the Synoptical\nGospels, but the accounts differ in two respects--as to the number of\nmen restored to sight, and as to the scene of the miracle. Matthew\ntells us that there were two men healed, and agrees with Mark in\nplacing the miracle as Jesus was leaving Jericho. Mark says that there\nwas one, and that the place was outside the gate in departing. Luke,\non the other hand, agrees with Matthew as to the number, and differs\nfrom him and Mark as to the place, which he sets at the entrance into\nthe city. The first of these two discrepancies may very easily be put\naside. The greater includes the less; silence is not contradiction. To\nsay that there was one does not deny that there were two. And if\nBartimaeus was a Christian, and known to Mark's readers, as is\nprobable from the mention of his name, it is easily intelligible how\nhe, being also the chief actor and spokesman, should have had Mark's\nattention concentrated on him. As to the other discrepancy, many\nattempts have been made to remove it. None of them are altogether\nsatisfactory. But what does it matter? The apparent contradiction may\naffect theories as to the characteristics of inspired books, but it\nhas nothing to do with the credibility of the narratives, or with\ntheir value for us.\n\nMark's account is evidently that of an eye-witness. It is full of\nlittle particulars which testify thereto. Whether Bartimaeus had a\ncompanion or not, he was obviously the chief actor and spokesman. And\nthe whole story seems to me to lend itself to the enforcement of some\nvery important lessons, which I will try to draw from it.\n\nI. Notice the beggar's petition and the attempts to silence it.\n\nRemember that Jesus was now on His last journey to Jerusalem. That\nnight He would sleep at Bethany; Calvary was but a week off. He had\npaused to win Zacchaeus, and now He has resumed His march to His\nCross. Popular enthusiasm is surging round Him, and for the first time\nHe does not try to repress it. A shouting multitude are escorting Him\nout of the city. They have just passed the gates, and are in the act\nof turning towards the mountain gorge through which runs the Jerusalem\nroad. A long file of beggars is sitting, as beggars do still in\nEastern cities, outside the gate, well accustomed to lift their\nmonotonous wail at the sound of passing footsteps. Bartimaeus is\namongst them. He asks, according to Luke, what is the cause of the\nbustle, and is told that 'Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.' The name\nwakes strange hopes in him, which can only be accounted for by his\nknowledge of Christ's miracles done elsewhere. It is a witness to\ntheir notoriety that they had filtered down to be the talk of beggars\nat city gates. And so, true to his trade, he cries, 'Jesus ... have\nmercy upon me!'\n\nNow, note two or three things about that cry. The first is the clear\ninsight into Christ's place and dignity. The multitude said to him,\n'Jesus of _Nazareth_ passeth by.' That was all they cared for or knew.\nHe cried, 'Jesus, thou _Son of David_,' distinctly recognising our\nLord's Messianic character, His power and authority, and on that power\nand authority he built a confidence; for he says not as some other\nsuppliants had done, either 'If Thou wilt Thou canst,' or 'If Thou\ncanst do anything, have compassion on us.' He is sure of both the\npower and the will.\n\nNow, it is interesting to notice that this same clear insight other\nblind men in the Evangelist's story are also represented as having\nhad. Blindness has its compensations. It leads to a certain steadfast\nbrooding upon thoughts, free from disturbing influences. Seeing Jesus\ndid not produce faith; not seeing Him seems to have helped it. It left\nimagination to work undisturbed, and He was all the loftier to these\nblind men, because the conceptions of their minds were not limited by\nthe vision of their eyes. At all events, here is a distinct piece of\ninsight into Christ's dignity, power, and will, to which the seeing\nmultitudes were blind.\n\nNote, further, how in the cry there throbs the sense of need, deep and\nurgent. And note how in it there is also the realisation of the\npossibility that the widely-flowing blessings of which Bartimaeus had\nheard might be concentrated and poured, in their full flood, upon\nhimself. He individualises himself, _his_ need, Christ's power and\nwillingness to help _him_. And because he has heard of so many who\nhave, in like manner, received His healing touch, he comes with the\ncry, 'Have mercy upon me.'\n\nAll this is upon the low level of physical blessings needed and\ndesired. But let us lift it higher. It is a mirror in which we may see\nourselves, our necessities, and the example of what our desire ought\nto be. Ah! brethren, the deep consciousness of impotence, need,\nemptiness, blindness, lies at the bottom of all true crying to Jesus\nChrist. If you have never gone to Him, knowing yourself to be a sinful\nman, in peril, present and future, from your sin, and stained and\nmarred by reason of it, you never have gone to Him in any deep and\nadequate sense at all. Only when I thus know myself am I driven to\ncry, 'Jesus! have mercy on me.' And I ask you not to answer to me, but\nto press the question on your own consciences--'Have I any experience\nof such a sense of need; or am I groping in the darkness and saying, I\nsee? am I weak as water, and saying I am strong?' 'Thou knowest not\nthat thou art poor, and naked, and blind'; and so that Jesus of\nNazareth should be passing by has never moved thy tongue to call, 'Son\nof David, have mercy upon me!'\n\nAgain, this man's cry expressed a clear insight into something at\nleast of our Lord's unique character and power. Brethren, unless we\nknow Him to be all that is involved in that august title, 'the Son of\nDavid,' I do not think our cries to Him will ever be very earnest. It\nseems to me that they will only be so when, on the one hand, we\nrecognise our need of a Saviour, and, on the other hand, behold in Him\nthe Saviour whom we need. I can quite understand--and we may see\nplenty of illustrations of it all round us--a kind of Christianity\nreal as far as it goes, but in my judgment very superficial, which has\nno adequate conception of what sin means, in its depth, in its power\nupon the victim of it, or in its consequences here and hereafter; and,\nthat sense being lacking, the whole scale of Christianity, as it were,\nis lowered, and Christ comes to be, not, as I think the New Testament\ntells us that He is, the Incarnate Word of God, who for us men and for\nour salvation 'bare our sins in His own body on the tree,' and 'was\nmade sin for us, that we might be made the righteousness of God in\nHim,' but an Example, a Teacher, or a pure Model, or a social\nReformer, or the like. If men think of Him only as such, they will\nnever cry to Him, 'Have mercy upon me!'\n\nDear friends, I pray you, whether you begin with looking into your own\nhearts and recognising the crawling evils that have made their home\nthere, and thence pass to the thought of the sort of Redeemer that you\nneed and find in Christ--or whether you begin at the other side, and,\nlooking upon the revealed Christ in all the fulness in which He is\nrepresented to us in the Gospels, from thence go back to ask\nyourselves the question, 'What sort of man must I be, if that is the\nkind of Saviour that I need?'--I pray you ever to blend these two\nthings together, the consciousness of your own need of redemption in\nHis blood and the assurance that by His death we are redeemed, and\nthen to cry, 'Lord! have mercy upon _me_,' and claim your individual\nshare in the wide-flowing blessing. Turn all the generalities of His\ngrace into the particularity of your own possession of it. We have to\ngo one by one to His cross, and one by one to pass through the wicket\ngate. We have not cried to Him as we ought, if our cry is only\n'Christ, have mercy upon us. Lord, have mercy upon us. Christ, have\nmercy upon us.' We must be alone with Him, that into our own hearts we\nmay receive all the fulness of His blessing; and our petition must be\n'Thou Son of David! have mercy upon _me_.' Have you cried that?\n\nNotice, further, the attempts to stifle the cry. No doubt it was in\ndefence of the Master's dignity, as they construed it, that the people\nsought to silence the persistent, strident voice piercing through\ntheir hosannas. Ah! they did not know that the cry of wretchedness was\nfar sweeter to Him than their shallow hallelujahs. Christian people of\nall churches, and of some stiffened churches very especially, have\nbeen a great deal more careful of Christ's dignity than He is, and\nhave felt that their formal worship was indecorously disturbed when by\nchance some earnest voice forced its way through it with the cry of\nneed and desire. But this man had been accustomed for many a day,\nsitting outside the gate, to reiterate his petition when it was\nunattended to, and to make it heard amidst the noise of passers-by. So\nhe was persistently bold and importunate and shameless, as the shallow\ncritics thought, in his crying. The more they silenced him, the more a\ngreat deal he cried. Would God that we had more crying like that; and\nthat Christ's servants did not so often seek to suppress it, as some\nof them do! If there are any of you who, by reason of companions, or\ncares, or habits, or sorrows, or a feeble conception of your own need\nor a doubtful recognition of Christ's power and mercy, have been\ntempted to stop your supplications, do like Bartimaeus, and the more\nthese, your enemies, seek to silence the deepest voice that is in you,\nthe more let it speak.\n\nII. So, notice Christ's call and the suppliant's response.\n\n'He stood still, and commanded him to be called.' Remember that He was\non His road to His Cross, and that the tension of spirit which the\nEvangelists notice as attaching to Him then, and which filled the\ndisciples with awe as they followed Him, absorbed Him, no doubt, at\nthat hour, so that He heard but little of the people's shouts. But He\ndid hear the blind beggar's cry, and He arrested His march in order to\nattend to it.\n\nNow, dear friends, I am not merely twisting a Biblical incident round\nto an interpretation which it does not bear, but am stating a plain\nun-rhetorical truth when I say that it is so still. Jesus Christ is no\ndead Christ who is to be remembered only. He is a living Christ who,\nat this moment, is all that He ever was, and is doing in loftier\nfashion all the gracious things that He did upon earth. That pause of\nthe King is repeated now, and the quick ear which discerned the\ndifference between the unreal shouts of the crowd, and the agony of\nsincerity in the cry of the beggar, is still open. He is in the\nheavens, surrounded by its glories, and, as I think Scripture teaches\nus, wielding providence and administering the affairs of the universe.\nHe does not need to pause in order to hear you and me. If He did, He\nwould--if I may venture upon such an impossible supposition--bid the\nhallelujahs of heaven hush themselves, and suspend the operations of\nHis providence if need were, rather than that you or I, or any poor\nman who cries to Him, should be unheard and unhelped. The living\nChrist is as tender a friend, has as quick an ear, is as ready to help\nat once, to-day, as He was when outside the gate of Jericho; and every\none of us may lift his or her poor, thin voice, and it will go\nstraight up to the throne, and not be lost in the clamour of the\nhallelujahs that echo round His seat. Christ still hears and answers\nthe cry of need. Send you it up, and you will find that true.\n\nNotice the suppliant's response. That is a very characteristic\nright-about-face of the crowd, who one moment were saying, 'Hold your\ntongue and do not disturb Him,' and the next moment were all eager to\nencumber him with help, and to say, 'Rise up, be of good cheer; He\ncalleth thee.' No thanks to them that He did. And what did the man do?\nSprang to his feet--as the word rightly rendered would be--and flung\naway the frowsy rags that he had wrapped round him for warmth and\nsoftness of seat, as he waited at the gate; 'and he came to Jesus.'\nBrethren, 'casting aside every weight and the sin that doth so easily\nbeset us, let us run' to the same Refuge. You have to abandon\nsomething if you are to go to Christ to be healed. I dare say you know\nwell enough what it is. I do not; but certainly there is something\nthat entangles your legs and keeps you from finding your way to Him.\nIf there is nothing else, there is yourself and your trust in self,\nand that is to be put away. Cast away the 'garment spotted with the\nflesh' and go to Christ, and you will receive succour.\n\nIII. Notice the question of all-granting love, and the answer of\nconscious need.\n\n'What wilt Thou that I should do unto thee?' A very few hours before\nHe had put the same question with an entirely different significance,\nwhen the sons of Zebedee came to Him, and tried to get Him to walk\nblindfold into a promise. He upset their scheme with the simple\nquestion, 'What is it that you want?' which meant, 'I must know and\njudge before I commit Myself,' But when He said the same thing to\nBartimaeus He meant exactly the opposite. It was putting the key of\nthe treasure-house into the beggar's hand. It was the implicit pledge\nthat whatever he desired he should receive. He knew that the thing\nthis man wanted was the thing that He delighted to give.\n\nBut the tenderness of these words, and the gracious promise that is\nhived in them, must not make us forget the singular authority that\nspeaks in them. Think of a man doing as Jesus Christ did--standing\nbefore another and saying, 'I will give you anything that you want.'\nHe must be either a madman or a blasphemer, or 'God manifest in the\nflesh'; Almighty power guided by infinite love.\n\nAnd what said the man? He had no doubt what he wanted most--the\nopening of these blind eyes of his. And, dear brother, if we knew\nourselves as well as Bartimaeus knew his blindness, we should have as\nlittle doubt what it is that we need most. Suppose you had this\nwishing-cap that Christ put on Bartimaeus's head put on yours: what\nwould you ask? It is a penetrating question if men will answer it\nhonestly. Think what you consider to be your chief need. Suppose Jesus\nChrist stood where I stand, and spoke to you: 'What wilt thou that I\nshould do for you?' If you are a wise man, if you know yourself and\nHim, your answer will come as swiftly as the beggar's--'Lord! heal me\nof my blindness, and take away my sin, and give me Thy salvation.'\nThere is no doubt about what it is that every one of us needs most.\nAnd there should be no doubt as to what each of us would ask first.\n\nThe supposition that I have been making is realised. That gracious\nLord is here, and is ready to give you the satisfaction of your\ndeepest need, if you know what it is, and will go to Him for it. 'Ask!\nand ye shall receive.'\n\nIV. Lastly, notice, sight given, and the Giver followed.\n\nBartimaeus had scarcely ended speaking when Christ began. He was blind\nat the beginning of Christ's little sentence; he saw at the end of it.\n'Go thy way; thy faith hath saved thee.' The answer came instantly,\nand the cure was as immediate as the movement of Christ's heart in\nanswer.\n\nI am here to proclaim the possibility of an immediate passage from\ndarkness to light. Some folk look askance at us when we talk about\nsudden conversions, but these are perfectly reasonable; and the\nexperience of thousands asserts that they are actual. As soon as we\ndesire, we have, and as soon as we have, we see. Whenever the lungs\nare opened the air rushes in; sometimes the air opens the lungs that\nit may. The desire is all but contemporaneous with the fulfilment, in\nChrist's dealing with men. The message is flashed along the wire from\nearth to heaven, in an incalculably brief space of time, and the\nanswer comes, swift as thought and swifter than light. So, dear\nfriends, there is no reason whatever why a similar instantaneous\nchange should not pass over any man who hears the Good News. He may be\nunsaved when his hearing of it begins, and saved when his hearing of\nit ends. It is for himself to settle whether it shall be so or not.\n\nHere we have a clear statement of the path by which Christ's mercy\nrushes into a man's soul. 'Thy faith hath saved thee.' But it was\nChrist's power that saved him. Yes, it was; but it was faith that made\nit possible for Christ's power to make him whole. Physical miracles\nindeed did not always require trust in Christ, as a preceding\ncondition, but the possession of Christ's salvation does, and cannot\nbut do so. There must be trust in Him, in order that we may partake of\nthe salvation which is owing solely to His power, His love, His work\nupon the Cross. The condition is for us; the power comes from Him. My\nfaith is the hand that grasps His; it is His hand, not mine, that\nholds me up. My faith lays hold of the rope; it is the rope and the\nPerson above who holds it, that lift me out of the 'horrible pit and\nthe miry clay.' My faith flees for refuge to the city; it is the city\nthat keeps me safe from the avenger of blood. Brother! exercise that\nfaith, and you will receive a better sight than was poured into\nBartimaeus's eyes.\n\nNow, all this story should be the story of each one of us. One\nmodification we have to make upon it, for we do not need to cry\npersistently for mercy, but to trust in, and to take, the mercy that\nis offered. One other difference there is between Bartimaeus and many\nof my hearers. He knew what he needed, and some of you do not. But\nChrist is calling us all, and my business now is to say to each of you\nwhat the crowd said to the beggar, 'Rise! be of good cheer; He calleth\nthee.' If you will fling away your hindrances, and grope your path to\nHis feet, and fall down before Him, knowing your deep necessity, and\ntrusting to Him to supply it, He will save you. Your new sight will\ngaze upon your Redeemer, and you will follow Him in the way of loving\ntrust and glad obedience.\n\nJesus Christ was passing by. He was never to be in Jericho any more.\nIf Bartimaeus did not get His sight then, he would be blind all his\ndays. Christ and His salvation are offered to thee, my brother, now.\nPerhaps if you let Him pass, you will never hear Him call again, and\nmay abide in the darkness for ever. Do not run the risk of such a\nfate.\n\n\n\nAN EAGER COMING\n\n\n'And he, casting away his garment, rose, and came to Jesus.'--Mark x.\n50.\n\nMark's vivid picture--long wail of the man, crowd silencing him, but\nwheeling round when Christ calls him--and the quick energy of the\nbeggar, flinging away his cloak, springing to his feet--and blind as\nhe was, groping his way.\n\nI. What we mean by coming to Jesus:--faith, communion, occupation of\nmind, heart, and will.\n\nII. How eagerly we shall come when we are conscious of need. This man\nwanted his eyesight: do we not want too?\n\nIII. We must throw off our hindrances if we would come to Him.\nImpediments of various kinds. 'Lay aside every weight'--not only sins,\nbut even right things that hinder. Occupations, pursuits, affections,\npossessions, sometimes have to be put away altogether; sometimes but\nto be minimised and kept in restraint. There is no virtue in\nself-denial except as it helps us to come nearer Him.\n\nIV. We must do it with quick, glad energy. Bartimaeus springs to his\nfeet at once with a bound. So we should leap to meet Jesus, our\nsight-giver. How slothful and languid we often are. We do not put half\nas much heart into our Christian life as people do into common things.\nFar more pains are taken by a ballet-dancer to learn her posturing\nthan by most Christians to keep near Christ.\n\n\n\nLOVE'S QUESTION\n\n\n'What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?'--Mark x. 51.\n\n'What wilt Thou have me to do!'--Acts ix. 6.\n\nChrist asks the first question of a petitioner, and the answer is a\nprayer for sight. Saul asks the second question of Jesus, and the\nanswer is a command. Different as they are, we may bring them\ntogether. The one is the voice of love, desiring to be besought in\norder that it may bestow; the other is the voice of love, desiring to\nbe commanded in order that it may obey.\n\nLove delights in knowing, expressing, and fulfilling the beloved's\nwishes.\n\nI. The communion of Love delights on both sides in knowing the\nbeloved's wishes. Christ delights in knowing ours. He encourages us to\nspeak though He knows, because it is pleasant to Him to hear, and good\nfor us to tell. His children delight in knowing His will.\n\nII. It delights in expressing wishes--His commandments are the\nutterance of His Love: His Providences are His loving ways of telling\nus what He desires of us, and if we love Him as we ought, both\ncommandments and providences will be received by us as lovers do gifts\nthat have 'with my love' written on them.\n\nOn the other hand, our love will delight in telling Him what we wish,\nand to speak all our hearts to Jesus will be our instinct in the\nmeasure of our love to Him.\n\nIII. It delights in fulfilling wishes--puts key of treasure-house into\nour hands. He refused John and James. Be sure that He does still\ndelight to give us our desires, and so be sure that when any of these\nare not granted there must be some loving reason for refusal.\n\nOur delight should be in obedience, and only when our wills are\nsubmitted to His does He say to us, 'What wilt thou?' 'If ye abide in\nMe and My words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will and it shall\nbe done unto you.'\n\n\n\nA ROYAL PROGRESS\n\n\n'... Go your way into the village over against you: and as soon as ye\nbe entered into it, ye shall find a colt tied, whereon never man sat;\nloose him, and bring him.'--Mark xi. 2.\n\nTwo considerations help us to appreciate this remarkable incident of\nour Lord's triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The first of these is its\ndate. It apparently occurred on the Sunday of the Passion Week. The\nFriday saw the crosses on Calvary. The night before, Jesus had sat at\nthe modest feast that was prepared in Bethany, where Lazarus was one\nof the guests, Martha was the busy servant, and Mary poured out the\nlavish treasures of her love upon His feet. The resurrection of\nLazarus had created great popular excitement; and that excitement is\nthe second consideration which throws light upon this incident. The\npeople had rallied round Christ, and, consequently, the hatred of the\nofficial and ecclesiastical class had been raised to boiling-point. It\nwas at that time that our Lord deliberately presented Himself before\nthe nation as the Messiah, and stirred up still more this popular\nenthusiasm. Now, if we keep these two things in view, I think we shall\nbe at the right point from which to consider the whole incident. To\nit, and not merely to the words which I have chosen as our\nstarting-point, I wish to draw attention now. I am mistaken if there\nare not in it very important and practical lessons for ourselves.\n\nI. First, note that deliberate assumption by Christ of royal\nauthority.\n\nI shall have a good deal to say presently about the main fact which\nbears upon that, but in the meantime I would note, in passing, a\nsubsidiary illustration of it, in the errand on which He sent these\nmessengers to the little 'village over against' them; and in the words\nwhich He put into their mouths. They were to go, and, without a word,\nto loose and bring away the colt fastened at a door, where it was\nevidently waiting the convenience of its owner to mount it. If, as was\nnatural, any objection or question was raised, they were to answer\nexactly as servants of a king would do, if he sent them to make\nrequisition on the property of his subjects, 'The Lord hath need of\nhim.'\n\nI do not dwell on our Lord's supernatural knowledge as coming out\nhere; nor on the fact that the owner of the colt was probably a\npartial disciple, perhaps a secret one--ready to recognise the claim\nthat was made. But I ask you to notice here the assertion, in act and\nword, of absolute authority, to which all private convenience and\nrights of possession are to give way unconditionally. The Sovereign's\nneed is a sovereign reason. What He requires He has a right to take.\nWell for us, brethren, if we yield as glad, as swift, and as\nunquestioning obedience to His claims upon us, and upon our\npossessions, as that poor peasant of Bethphage gave in the incident\nbefore us!\n\nBut there is not only the assertion, here, of absolute authority, but\nnote how, side by side with this royal style, there goes the\nacknowledgment of poverty. Here is a pauper King, who having nothing\nyet possesses all things. 'The Lord'--that is a great title--'hath\nneed of him'--that is a strange verb to go with such a nominative. But\nthis little sentence, in its two halves of authority and of\ndependence, puts into four words the whole blessed paradox of the life\nof Jesus Christ upon earth. 'Though He was rich, yet for our sakes He\nbecame poor'; and being Lord and Owner of all things, yet owed His\ndaily bread to ministering women, borrowed a boat to preach from, a\nhouse wherein to lay His head, a shroud and a winding-sheet to enfold\nHis corpse, a grave in which to lie, and from which to rise, 'the Lord\nof the dead and of the living.'\n\nNot only so, but there is another thought suggested by these words.\nThe accurate, or, at least, the probable reading, of one part of the\nthird verse is given in the Revised Version, 'Say ye that the Lord\nhath need of him, and straightway he will send him _back_ hither.'\nThat is to say, these last words are not Christ's assurance to His two\nmessengers that their embassy would succeed, but part of the message\nwhich He sends by them to the owner of the colt, telling him that it\nwas only a loan which was to be returned. Jesus Christ is debtor to no\nman. Anything given to Him comes back again. Possessions yielded to\nthat Lord are recompensed a hundredfold in this life, if in nothing\nelse in that there is a far greater sweetness in that which still\nremains. 'What I gave I have,' said the wise old epitaph. It is always\ntrue. Do you not think that the owner of the patient beast, on which\nChrist placidly paced into Jerusalem on His peaceful triumph, would be\nproud all his days of the use to which his animal had been put, and\nwould count it as a treasure for the rest of its life? If you and I\nwill yield our gifts to Him, and lay them upon His altar, be sure of\nthis, that the altar will ennoble and will sanctify all that is laid\nupon it. All that we have rendered to Him gains fragrance from His\ntouch, and comes back to us tenfold more precious because He has\ncondescended to use it.\n\nSo, brethren, He still moves amongst us, asking for our surrender of\nourselves and of our possessions to Him, and pledging Himself that we\nshall lose nothing by what we give to Him, but shall be infinitely\ngainers by our surrender. He still needs us. Ah! if He is ever to\nmarch in triumph through the world, and be hailed by the hosannas of\nall the tribes of the earth, it is requisite for that triumph that His\nchildren should surrender first themselves, and then all that they\nare, and all that they have, to Him. To us there comes the message,\n'The Lord hath need of you.' Let us see that we answer as becomes us.\n\nBut then, more important is the other instance here of this assertion\nof royal authority. I have already said that we shall not rightly\nunderstand it unless we take into full account the state of popular\nfeeling at the time. We find in John's Gospel great stress laid on the\nmovement of curiosity and half-belief which followed on the\nresurrection of Lazarus. He tells us that crowds came out from\nJerusalem the night before to gaze upon the Lifebringer and the\nquickened man. He also tells us that another enthusiastic crowd\nflocked out of Jerusalem before Jesus sent for the colt to the\nneighbouring village. We are to keep in mind, therefore, that what He\ndid here was done in the midst of a great outburst of popular\nenthusiasm. We are to keep in mind, too, the season of Passover, when\nreligion and patriotism, which were so closely intertwined in the life\nof the Jews, were in full vigorous exercise. It was always a time of\nanxiety to the Roman authorities, lest this fiery people should break\nout into insurrection. Jerusalem at the Passover was like a great\nmagazine of combustibles, and into it Jesus flung a lighted brand\namongst the inflammable substances that were gathered there. We have\nto remember, too, that all His life long He had gone exactly on the\nopposite tack. Remember how He betook Himself to the mountain\nsolitudes when they wanted to make Him a king. Remember how He was\nalways damping down Messianic enthusiasm. But here, all at once, He\nreverses His whole conduct, and deliberately sets Himself to make the\nmost public and the most exciting possible demonstration that He was\n'King of Israel.'\n\nFor what was it that He did? Our Evangelist here does not quote the\nprophecy from Zechariah, but two other Evangelists do. Our Lord then\ndeliberately dressed Himself by the mirror of prophecy, and assumed\nthe very characteristics which the prophet had given long ago as the\nmark of the coming King of Zion. If He had wanted to excite a popular\ncommotion, that is what He would have done.\n\nWhy did He act thus? He was under no illusion as to what would follow.\nFor the night before He had said: 'She hath come beforehand to anoint\nMy body for the burial.' He knew what was close before Him in the\nfuture. And, because He knew that the end was at hand, He felt that,\nonce at least, it was needful that He should present Himself solemnly,\npublicly, I may almost say ostentatiously, before the gathered nation,\nas being of a truth the Fulfiller and the fulfilment of all the\nprophecies and the hopes built upon them that had burned in Israel,\nwith a smoky flame indeed, but for so many ages. He also wanted to\nbring the rulers to a point. I dare not say that He precipitated His\ndeath, or provoked a conflict, but I do say that deliberately, and\nwith a clear understanding of what He was doing, He took a step which\nforced them to show their hand. For after such a public avowal of who\nHe was, and such public hosannas surging round His meek feet as He\nrode into the city, there were but two courses open for the official\nclass: either to acknowledge Him, or to murder Him. Therefore He\nreversed His usual action, and deliberately posed, by His own act, as\nclaiming to be the Messiah long prophesied and long expected.\n\nNow, what do you think of the man that did that? _If_ He did it, then\neither He is what the rulers called Him, a 'deceiver,' swollen with\ninordinate vanity and unfit to be a teacher, or else we must fall at\nHis feet and say 'Rabbi! Thou art the Son of God; Thou art the King of\nIsrael.' I venture to believe that to extol Him and to deny the\nvalidity of His claims is in flagrant contradiction to the facts of\nHis life, and is an unreasonable and untenable position.\n\nII. Notice the revelation of a new kind of King and Kingdom.\n\nOur Evangelist, from whom my text is taken, has nothing to say about\nZechariah's prophecy which our Lord set Himself to fulfil. He only\ndwells on the pathetic poverty of the pomp of the procession. But\nother Evangelists bring into view the deeper meaning of the incident.\nThe centre-point of the prophecy, and of Christ's intentional\nfulfilment of it, lies in the symbol of the meek and patient animal\nwhich He bestrode. The ass was, indeed, used sometimes in old days by\nrulers and judges in Israel, but the symbol was chosen by the prophet\nsimply to bring out the peacefulness and the gentleness inherent in\nthe Kingdom, and the King who thus advanced into His city. If you want\nto understand the meaning of the prophet's emblem, you have only to\nremember the sculptured slabs of Assyria and Babylon, or the paintings\non the walls of Egyptian temples and tombs, where Sennacherib or\nRameses ride hurtling in triumph in their chariots, over the bodies of\nprostrate foes; and then to set by the side of these, 'Rejoice! O\ndaughter of Zion; thy King cometh unto thee riding upon an ass, and\nupon a colt the foal of an ass.' If we want to understand the\nsignificance of this sweet emblem, we need only, further, remember the\npsalm that, with poetic fervour, invokes the King: 'Gird Thy sword\nupon Thy thigh, O Most Mighty, and in Thy majesty ride prosperously\n... and Thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things. Thine arrows\nare sharp in the heart of the King's enemies; the people fall under\nThee.' That is all that that ancient singer could conceive of the\ntriumphant King of the world, the Messiah; a conqueror, enthroned in\nHis chariot, and the twanging bowstring, drawn by His strong hand,\nimpelling the arrow that lodged in the heart of His foes. And here is\nthe fulfilment. 'Go ye into the village over against you, and ye shall\nfind a colt tied ... And they set Him thereon.' Christ's kingdom, like\nits King, has no power but gentleness and the omnipotence of patient\nlove.\n\nIf 'Christian' nations, as they are called, and Churches had kept the\nsignificance of that emblem in mind, do you think that their hosannas\nwould have gone up so often for conquerors on the battlefields; or\nthat Christian communities would have been in complicity with war and\nthe glorifying thereof, as they have been? And, if Christian churches\nhad remembered and laid to heart the meaning of this triumphal entry,\nand its demonstration of where the power of the Master lay, would they\nhave struck up such alliances with worldly powers and forms of force\nas, alas! have weakened and corrupted the Church for hundreds of\nyears? Surely, surely, there is no more manifest condemnation of war\nand the warlike spirit, and of the spirit which finds the strength of\nChrist's Church in anything material and violent, than is that\nsolitary instance of His assumption of royal state when thus He\nentered into His city. I need not say a word, brethren, about the\nnature of Christ's kingdom as embodied in His subjects, as represented\nin that shouting multitude that marched around Him. How Caesar in his\ngolden house in Rome would have sneered and smiled at the Jewish\npeasant, on the colt, and surrounded by poor men, who had no banners\nbut the leafy branches from the trees, and no pomp to strew in his way\nbut their own worn garments! And yet these were stronger in their\ndevotion, in their enthusiastic conviction that He was the King of\nIsrael and of the whole earth, than Caesar, with all his treasures and\nwith all his legions and their sharp swords. Christ accepts poor\nhomage because He looks for hearts; and whatever the heart renders is\nsweet to Him. He passes on through the world, hailed by the\nacclamations of grateful hearts, needing no bodyguard but those that\nlove Him; and they need to bear no weapons in their hands, but their\nmission is to proclaim with glad hearts hosannas to the King that\n'cometh in the name of the Lord.'\n\nThere is one more point that I may note. Another of the Evangelists\ntells us that it was when the humble cort\u00e8ge swept round the shoulder\nof Olivet, and caught sight of the city gleaming in the sunshine,\nacross the Kedron valley, that they broke into the most rapturous of\ntheir hosannas, as if they would call to the city that came in view to\nrejoice and welcome its King. And what was the King doing when that\nsight burst upon Him, and while the acclamations eddied round Him? His\nthoughts were far away. His eyes with divine prescience looked on to\nthe impending end, and then they dimmed, and filled with tears; and He\nwept over the city.\n\nThat is our King; a pauper King, a meek and patient King, a King that\ndelights in the reverent love of hearts, a King whose armies have no\nswords, a King whose eyes fill with tears as He thinks of men's woes\nand cries. Blessed be such a King!\n\nIII. Lastly, we have the Royal visitation of the Temple.\n\nOur Evangelist has no word to speak about the march of the procession\ndown into the valley, and up on the other side, and through the gate,\nand into the narrow streets of the city that was 'moved' as they\npassed through it. His language sounds as if he considered that our\nLord's object in entering Jerusalem at all was principally to enter\nthe Temple. He 'looked round on all things' that were there. Can we\nfancy the keen observance, the recognition of the hidden bad and good,\nthe blazing indignation, and yet dewy pity, in those eyes? His\nvisitation of the Temple was its inspection by its Lord. And it was an\ninspection in order to cleanse. To-day He looked; to-morrow He wielded\nthe whip of small cords. His chastisement is never precipitate.\nPerfect knowledge wields His scourge, and pronounces condemnation.\n\nBrethren, Jesus Christ comes to us as a congregation, to the church to\nwhich we belong, and to us individually, with the same inspection. He\nwhose eyes are a flame of fire, says to His churches to-day, 'I know\nthy works.' What would He think if He came to us and tested us?\n\nIn the incident of my text He was fulfilling another ancient prophecy,\nwhich says, 'The Lord shall suddenly come to His Temple, and ... sit\nas a refiner of silver ... like a refiner's fire and as fuller's soap\n... and He shall purify the sons of Levi.... Then shall the offering\nof Jerusalem be pleasant, as in the days of old.'\n\nWe need nothing more, we should desire nothing more earnestly, than\nthat He would come to us: 'Search me, O Christ, and know me. And see\nif there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.'\nJesus Christ is the King of England as truly as of Zion; and He is\nyour King and mine. He comes to each of us, patient, meek, loving;\nready to bless and to cleanse. Dear brother, do you open your heart to\nHim? Do you acknowledge Him as your King? Do you count it your highest\nhonour if He will use you and your possessions, and condescend to say\nthat He has need of such poor creatures as we are? Do you cast your\ngarments in the way, and say: 'Ride on, great Prince'? Do you submit\nyourself to His inspection, to His cleansing?\n\nRemember, He came once on 'a colt, the foal of an ass, meek, and\nhaving salvation.' He will come 'on the white horse, in righteousness\nto judge and to make war' and with power to destroy.\n\nOh! I beseech you, welcome Him as He comes in gentle love, that when\nHe comes in judicial majesty you may be among the 'armies of heaven\nthat follow after,' and from immortal tongues utter rapturous and\nundying hosannas.\n\n\n\nCHRIST'S NEED OF US AND OURS\n\n\n'... Say ye that the Lord hath need of him; and straightway he will\nsend him hither.'--Mark xi. 3.\n\nYou will remember that Jesus Christ sent two of His disciples into the\nvillage that looked down on the road from Bethany to Jerusalem, with\nminute instructions and information as to what they were to do and\nfind there. The instructions may have one of two explanations--they\nsuggest either superhuman knowledge or a previous arrangement.\nPerhaps, although it is less familiar to our thoughts, the latter is\nthe explanation. There is a remarkable resemblance, in that respect,\nto another incident which lies close beside this one in time, when our\nLord again sent two disciples to make preparation for the Passover,\nand, with similar minuteness, told them that they would find, at a\ncertain point, a man bearing a pitcher of water. Him they were to\naccost, and he would take them to the room that had been prepared. Now\nthe old explanation of both these incidents is that Jesus Christ knew\nwhat was going to happen. Another possible explanation, and in my view\nmore probable and quite as instructive, is, that Jesus Christ had\nsettled with the two owners what was to happen. Clearly, the owner of\nthe colt was a disciple, because at once he gave up his property when\nthe message was repeated, 'the _Lord_ hath need of him.' Probably he\nhad been one of the guests at the modest festival that had been held\nthe night before, in the village close by, in Simon's house, and had\nseen how Mary had expended her most precious possession on the Lord,\nand, under the influence of the resurrection of Lazarus, he, too,\nperhaps, was touched, and was glad to arrange with Jesus Christ to\nhave his colt waiting there at the cross-road for his Master's\nconvenience. But, be that as it may, it seems to me that this\nincident, and especially these words that I have read for a text,\ncarry very striking and important lessons for us, whether we look at\nthem in connection with the incident itself, or whether we venture to\ngive them a somewhat wider application. Let me take these two points\nin turn.\n\nI. Now, what strikes one about our Lord's requisitioning the colt is\nthis, that here is a piece of conduct on His part singularly unlike\nall the rest of His life. All through it, up to this last moment, His\none care was to damp down popular enthusiasm, to put on the drag\nwhenever there came to be the least symptom of it, to discourage any\nreference to Him as the Messiah-King of Israel, to shrink back from\nthe coarse adulation of the crowd, and to glide quietly through the\nworld, blessing and doing good. But now, at the end, He flings off all\ndisguise. He deliberately sets Himself, at a time when popular\nenthusiasm ran highest and was most turbid and difficult to manage, at\nthe gathering of the nation for the Passover in Jerusalem, to cast an\neffervescing element into the caldron. If He had planned to create a\npopular rising, He could not have done anything more certain to bring\nit about than what He did that morning when He made arrangements for a\ntriumphal procession into the city, amidst the excited crowds gathered\nfrom every quarter of the land. Why did He do that? What was the\nmeaning of it?\n\nThen there is another point in this requisitioning of the colt. He not\nonly deliberately set Himself to stir up popular excitement, but He\nconsciously did what would be an outward fulfilment of a great\nMessianic prophecy. I hope you are wiser than to fancy that\nZechariah's prophecy of the peaceful monarch who was to come to Zion,\nmeek and victorious, and riding upon a 'colt the foal of an ass,' was\nfulfilled by the outward fact of Christ being mounted on this colt\n'whereon never man sat.' That is only the shell, and if there had been\nno such triumphal entry, our Lord would as completely have fulfilled\nZechariah's prophecy. The fulfilment of it did not depend on the petty\ndetail of the animal upon which He sat when He entered the city, nor\neven on that entrance. The meaning of the prophecy was that to Zion,\nwherever and whatever it is, there should come that Messianic King,\nwhose reign owed nothing to chariots and horses and weapons of war for\nits establishment, but who, meek and patient, pacing upon the humble\nanimal used only for peaceful services, and not mounted on the\nprancing steed of the warrior, should inaugurate the reign of majesty\nand of meekness. Our Lord uses the external fact just as the prophet\nhad used it, as of no value in itself, but as a picturesque emblem of\nthe very spirit of His kingdom. The literal fulfilment was a kind of\nfinger-post for inattentive onlookers, which might induce them to look\nmore closely, and so see that He was indeed the King Messiah, because\nof more important correspondences with prophecy than His once riding\non an ass. Do not so degrade these Old Testament prophecies as to\nfancy that their literal fulfilment is of chief importance. That is\nthe shell: the kernel is the all-important thing, and Jesus Christ\nwould have fulfilled the _r\u00f4le,_ that was sketched for Him by the\nprophets of old, just as completely if there never had been this\nentrance into Jerusalem.\n\nBut, further, the fact that He had to borrow the colt was as\nsignificant as the choice of it. For so we see blended two things, the\nblending of which makes the unique peculiarity and sublimity of\nChrist's life: absolute authority, and meekness of poverty and\nlowliness. A King, and yet a pauper-King! A King claiming His\ndominion, and yet obliged to borrow another man's colt in order that\nHe might do it! A strange kind of monarch!--and yet that remarkable\ncombination runs through all His life. He had to be obliged to a\ncouple of fishermen for a boat, but He sat in it, to speak words of\ndivine wisdom. He had to be obliged to a lad in the crowd for barley\nloaves and fishes, but when He took them into His hands they were\nmultiplied. He had to be obliged for a grave, and yet He rose from the\nborrowed grave the Lord of life and death. And so when He would pose\nas a King, He has to borrow the regalia, and to be obliged to this\nanonymous friend for the colt which made the emphasis of His claim.\n'Who, though He was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, that we\nthrough His poverty might be rich.'\n\nII. And now turn for a moment to the wider application of these words.\n\n'The Lord hath need of him.' That opens the door to thoughts, that I\ncannot crowd into the few minutes that I have at my disposal, as to\nthat great and wonderful truth that Christ cannot assume His kingdom\nin this world without your help, and that of the other people whose\nhearts are touched by His love. 'The Lord hath need' of them. Though\nupon that Cross of Calvary He did all that was necessary for the\nredemption of the world and the salvation of humanity as a whole, yet\nfor the bearing of that blessing into individual hearts, and for the\napplication of the full powers that are stored in the Gospel and in\nJesus, to their work in the world, the missing link is man. We 'are\nfellow-labourers with God.' We are Christ's tools. The instruments by\nwhich He builds His kingdom are the souls that have already accepted\nHis authority. 'The Lord hath need of him,' though, as the psalmist\nsings, 'If I were hungry I would not tell thee, for all the beasts of\nthe forest are Mine.' Yes, and when the Word was made flesh, He had\nneed of one of the humblest of the beasts. The Christ that redeemed\nthe world needs us, to carry out and to bring into effect His\nredemption. 'God mend all,' said one, and the answer was, 'We must\nhelp Him to mend it.'\n\nNotice again the authoritative demand, which does not contemplate the\npossibility of reluctance or refusal. 'The Lord hath need of him.'\nThat is all. There is no explanation or motive alleged to induce\nsurrender to the demand. This is a royal style of speech. It is the\nway in which, in despotic countries, kings lay their demands upon a\npoor man's whole plenishing and possession, and sweep away all.\n\nJesus Christ comes to us in like fashion, and brushes aside all our\nconvenience and everything else, and says, 'I want you, and that is\nenough.' Is it not enough? Should it not be enough? If He demands, He\nhas the right to demand. For we are His, 'bought with a price.' All\nthe slave's possessions are his owner's property. The slave is given a\nlittle patch of garden ground, and perhaps allowed to keep a fowl or\ntwo, but the master can come and say, 'Now _I_ want them,' and the\nslave has nothing for it but to give them up.\n\n'The Lord hath need of him' is in the autocratic tone of One who has\nabsolute power over us and ours. And that power, where does it come\nfrom? It comes from His absolute surrender of Himself to us, and\nbecause He has wholly given Himself for us. He does not expect us to\nsay one contrary word when He sends and says, 'I have need of you, or\nof yours.'\n\nHere, again, we have an instance of glad surrender. The last words of\nmy text are susceptible of a double meaning. 'Straightway he will send\nhim hither'--who is 'he'? It is usually understood to be the owner of\nthe colt, and the clause is supposed to be Christ's assurance to the\ntwo messengers of the success of their errand. So understood, the\nwords suggest the great truth that Love loosens the hand that grasps\npossessions, and unlocks our treasure-houses. There is nothing more\nblessed than to give in response to the requirement of love. And so,\nto Christ's authoritative demand, the only proper answer is obedience\nswift and glad, because it is loving. Many possibilities of joy and\nblessing are lost by us through not yielding on the instant to\nChrist's demands. Hesitation and delay are dangerous. In 'straightway'\ncomplying are security and joy. If the owner had begun to say to\nhimself that he very much needed the colt, or that he saw no reason\nwhy some one else's beast should not have been taken, or that he would\nsend the animal very soon, but must have the use of him for an hour or\ntwo first, he would probably never have sent him at all, and so would\nhave missed the greatest honour of his life. As soon as I know what\nChrist wants from me, without delay let me do it; for if I begin with\ndelaying I shall probably end with declining. The Psalmist was wise\nwhen he laid emphasis on the swiftness of his obedience, and said, 'I\nmade haste and delayed not, but made haste to keep Thy commandments.'\n\nBut another view of the words makes them part of the message to the\nowner of the colt, and not of the assurance to the disciples. 'Say ye\nthat the Lord hath need of him, and that straightway (when He has done\nwith him) He will send him back again.' That is a possible rendering,\nand I am disposed to think it is the proper one. By it the owner is\ntold that he is not parting with his property for good and all, that\nJesus only wishes to borrow the animal for the morning, and that it\nwill be returned in the afternoon. What does that view of the words\nsuggest to us? Do you not think that that colt, when it did come\nback--for of course it came back some time or other,--was a great deal\nmore precious to its owner than it ever had been before, or ever could\nhave been if it had not been lent to Christ, and Christ had not made\nHis royal entry upon it? Can you not fancy that the man, if he was, as\nhe evidently was, a disciple and lover of the Lord, would look at it,\nespecially after the Crucifixion and the Ascension, and think, 'What\nan honour to me, that I provided the mount for that triumphal entry!'?\nIt is always so. If you wish anything to become precious, lend it to\nJesus Christ, and when it comes back again, as it will come back,\nthere will be a fragrance about it, a touch of His fingers will be\nleft upon it, a memory that He has used it. If you desire to own\nyourselves, and to make yourselves worth owning, give yourselves to\nChrist. If you wish to get the greatest possible blessing and good out\nof possessions, lay them at His feet. If you wish love to be hallowed,\njoy to be calmed, perpetuated, and deepened, carry it to Him. 'If the\nhouse be worthy, your peace shall rest upon it; if not,' like the dove\nto the ark when it could find no footing in the turbid and drowned\nworld, 'it shall come back to you again. Straightway He will 'send him\nback again,' and that which I give to Jesus He will return enhanced,\nand it will be more truly and more blessedly mine, because I have laid\nit in His hands. This 'altar' sanctifies the giver and the gift.\n\n\n\nNOTHING BUT LEAVES\n\n\n'And seeing a fig tree afar off having leaves, He came, if haply He\nmight find any thing thereon: and when He came to it, He found nothing\nbut leaves; ... 14. And Jesus ... said unto it, No man eat fruit of\nthee hereafter for ever.'--Mark xi. 13, 14.\n\nThe date of this miracle has an important bearing on its meaning and\npurpose. It occurred on the Monday morning of the last week of\nChrist's ministry. That week saw His last coming to Israel, 'if haply\nHe might find any thing thereon.' And if you remember the foot-to-foot\nduel with the rulers and representatives of the nation, and the words,\nweighty with coming doom, which He spoke in the Temple on the\nsubsequent days, you will not doubt that the explanation of this\nstrange and anomalous miracle is that it is an acted parable, a symbol\nof Israel in its fruitlessness and in its consequent barrenness to all\ncoming time.\n\nThis is the only point of view, as it seems to me, from which the\npeculiarities of the miracle can either be warranted or explained. It\nis our Lord's only destructive act. The fig-tree grew by the wayside;\nprobably, therefore, it belonged to nobody, and there was no right of\nproperty affected by its loss. He saw it from afar, 'having leaves,'\nand that was why, three months before the time, He went to look if\nthere were figs on it. For experts tell us that in the fig-tree the\nleaves accompany, and do not precede, the fruit. And so this one tree,\nbrave in its show of foliage amidst leafless companions, was a\nhypocrite unless there were figs below the leaves. Therefore Jesus\ncame, if haply He might find anything thereon, and finding nothing,\nperpetuated the condition which He found, and made the sin its own\npunishment.\n\nNow all that is plain symbol, and so I ask you to look with me, for a\nfew moments, at these three things--(1) What Christ sought and seeks;\n(2) What He found and often finds; (3) What He did when He found it.\n\nI. What Christ sought and seeks.\n\nHe came 'seeking fruit.' Now I may just notice, in passing, how\npathetically and beautifully this incident suggests to us the true,\ndependent, weak manhood of that great Lord. In all probability He had\njust come from the home of Mary and Martha, and it is strange that\nhaving left their hospitable abode He should be 'an hungered.' But so\nit was. And even with all the weight of the coming crisis pressing\nupon His soul, He was conscious of physical necessities, as one of us\nmight have been, and perhaps felt the more need for sustenance because\nso terrible a conflict was waiting Him. Nor, I think, need we shrink\nfrom recognising another of the characteristics of humanity here, in\nthe limitations of His knowledge and in the real expectation, which\nwas disappointed, that He might find fruit where there were leaves. I\ndo not want to plunge into depths far too deep for any man to find\nsure footing in, nor seek to define the undefinable, nor to explain\nhow the divine inosculates with the human, but sure I am that Jesus\nChrist was not getting up a scene in order to make a parable out of\nHis miracle; and that the hunger and the expectancy and the\ndisappointment were all real, however they afterwards may have been\nturned by Him to a symbolical purpose. And so here we may see the weak\nChrist, the limited Christ, the true human Christ. But side by side,\nas is ever the case, with this manifestation of weakness, there comes\nan apocalypse of power. Wherever you have, in the history of our Lord,\nsome signal exemplification of human infirmity, you have flashed out\nthrough 'the veil, that is, His flesh,' some beam of His glory. Thus\nthis hungry Man could say, 'No fruit grow on thee henceforward for\never'; and His bare word, the mere forth-putting and manifestation of\nHis will, had power on material things. That is the sign and impress\nof divinity.\n\nBut I pass from that, which is not my special point now. What did\nChrist seek? 'Fruit.' And what is fruit in contradistinction to\nleaves? Character and conduct like His. That is our fruit. All else is\nleafage. As the Apostle says, 'Love, joy, hope, peace, righteousness\nin the Holy Ghost'; or, to put it into one word, Christ-likeness in\nour inmost heart and nature, and Christ-likeness, so far as it may be\npossible for us, in our daily life, that is the one thing that our\nLord seeks from us.\n\nO brethren! we do not realise enough for ourselves, day by day, that\nit was for this end that Jesus Christ came. The cradle in Bethlehem,\nthe weary life, the gracious words, the mighty deeds, the Cross on\nCalvary, the open grave, Olivet with His last footprints; His place on\nthe throne, Pentecost, they were all meant for this, to make you and\nme good men, righteous people, bearing the fruits of holy living and\nconduct corresponding to His own pattern. Emotions of the selectest\nkind, religious experience of the profoundest and truest nature, these\nare blessed and good. They are the blossom which sets into fruit. And\nthey come for this end, that by the help of them we may be made like\nJesus Christ. He has yet to learn what is the purpose and the meaning\nof the Gospel who fixes upon anything else as its ultimate design than\nthe production in us, as the results of the life of Christ dwelling in\nour hearts, of character and conduct like to His.\n\nI suppose I ought to apologise for talking such commonplace platitudes\nas these, but, brethren, the most commonplace truths are usually the\nmost important and the most impotent. And no 'platitude' is a\nplatitude until you have brought it so completely into your lives that\nthere is no room for a fuller working of it out. So I come to you,\nChristian men and women, real and nominal, now with this for my\nmessage, that Jesus Christ seeks from you this first and foremost,\nthat you shall be good men and women 'according to the pattern that\nhas been showed us in the Mount,' according to the likeness of His own\nstainless perfection.\n\nAnd do not forget that Jesus Christ hungers for that goodness. That is\na strange, and infinitely touching, and absolutely true thing. He is\nonly 'satisfied,' and the hunger of His heart appeased, when 'He sees\nof the travail of His soul' in the righteousness of His servants. I\npassed a day or two ago, in a country place, a great field on which\nthere was stuck up a board that said, '----'s trial ground for seeds.'\nThis world is _Christ's_ trial ground for seeds, where He is testing\nyou and me to see whether it is worth while cultivating us any more,\nand whether we can bring forth any 'fruit to perfection' fit for the\nlips and the refreshment of the Owner and Lord of the vineyard Christ\nlongs for fruit from us. And--strange and wonderful, and yet true--the\n'bread' that He eats is the service of His servants. That, amongst\nother things, is what is meant by the ancient institution of\nsacrifice, 'the food of the gods.' Christ's food is the holiness and\nobedience of His children. He comes to us, as He came to that\nfig-tree, seeking from _us_ this fruit which He delights in receiving.\nBrethren, we cannot think too much of Christ's unspeakable gift in\nitself and in its consequences; but we may easily think too little,\nand I am sure that a great many of us do think too little, of Christ's\ndemands. He is not an austere man, 'reaping where He did not sow'; but\nhaving sowed so much, He does look for the harvest. He comes to us\nwith the heart-moving appeal, 'I have given all to thee; what givest\nthou to Me?' 'My well-beloved hath a vineyard in a very fruitful hill;\nand he fenced it and planted it, and built a tower and a wine-press in\nit'--and what then?--'and he looked that it should bring forth\ngrapes.' Christ comes to each of you professing Christians, and asks,\n'What fruit hast thou borne after all My sedulous husbandry?'\n\nII. Now note, in the next place, what Christ found.\n\n'Nothing but leaves.' I have already said that we are told that the\nhabit of growth of these trees is that the fruit accompanies, and\nsometimes precedes, the leaves. Whether it is so or no, let me remind\nyou that leaves are an outcome of the life as well as fruit, and that\nthey benefit the tree, and assist in the production of the fruit which\nit ought to bear. And so the symbol suggests things that are good in\nthemselves, ancillary and subsidiary to the production of fruit, but\nwhich sometimes tend to such disproportionate exuberance of growth as\nthat all the life of the tree runs to leaf, and there is riot a berry\nto be found on it.\n\nAnd if you want to know what such things are, remember the condition\nof the rulers of Israel at that time. They prided themselves upon\ntheir nominal, external, hereditary connection with a system of\nrevelation, they trusted in mere ritualisms, they had ossified\nreligion into theology, and degraded morality into casuistry. They\nthought that because they had been born Jews, and circumcised, and\nbecause there was a daily sacrifice going on in the Temple, and\nbecause they had Rabbis who could split hairs _ad infinitum_,\ntherefore they were the 'temple of the Lord,' and God's chosen.\n\nAnd that is exactly what hosts of pagans, masquerading as Christians,\nare doing in all our so-called Christian lands, and in all our\nso-called Christian congregations. In any community of so-called\nChristian people there is a little nucleus of real, earnest,\nGod-fearing folk, and a great fringe of people whose Christianity is\nmostly from the teeth outward, who have a nominal and external\nconnection with religion, who have been 'baptized' and are\n'communicants,' who think that religion lies mainly in coming on a\nSunday, and with more or less toleration and interest listening to a\npreacher's words and joining in external worship, and all the while\nthe 'weightier matters of the law'--righteousness, justice, and the\nlove of God--they leave untouched. What describes such a type of\nreligion with more piercing accuracy than 'nothing but leaves'?\n\nExternal connection with God's Church is a good thing. It is meant to\nmake us better men and women. If it does not, it is a bad thing. Acts\nof worship, more or less elaborate--for it is not the elaboration of\nceremonial, but the mistaken view of it, that does the harm--acts of\nworship may be helpful, or may be absolute barriers to real religious\nlife. They are becoming so largely to-day. The drift and trend of\nopinion in some parts of so-called Christendom is in the direction of\noutward ceremonial. And I, for one, believe that there are few things\ndoing more harm to the Christian character of England to-day than the\npreposterous recurrence to a reliance on the mere externals of\nworship. Of course we Dissenters pride ourselves on having no\ncomplicity with the sacramentarian errors which underlie these. But\nthere may be quite as much of a barrier between the soul and Christ,\nreared by the bare worship of Nonconformists, or by the no-worship of\nthe Society of Friends. If the absence of form be converted into a\nform, as it often is, there may be as lofty and wide a barrier raised\nby these as by the most elaborate ritual of the highest ceremonial\nthat exists in Christendom. And so I say to you, dear brethren, seeing\nthat we are all in danger of cleaving to externals and substituting\nthese which are intended to be helps to the production of godly life\nand character, it becomes us all to listen to the solemn word of\nexhortation that comes out of my text, and to beware lest our religion\nruns to leaf instead of setting into fruit.\n\nIt does so with many of us; that is a certainty. I am thinking about\nno individual, about no individuals, but I am only speaking common\nsense when I say that amongst as many people as I am now addressing\nthere will be an appreciable proportion who have no notion of religion\nas anything beyond a more or less imperative and more or less\nunwelcome set of external observances.\n\nIII. And so, lastly, let me ask you to notice what Christ did.\n\nI do not need to trouble myself nor you with vindicating the morality\nof this miracle against the fantastic objections that often have been\nmade against it; nor need I say a word more than I have already said\nabout its symbolical meaning. Israel was in that week being asked for\nthe last time to 'bring forth fruit' to the Lord of the vineyard. The\nrefusal bound barrenness on the synagogue and on the nation, if not\nabsolutely for ever, at all events until 'it shall turn to the Lord,'\nand partake again of 'the root and fatness' from which it has been\nbroken off. What thirsty lips since that week have ever got any good\nout of Rabbinism and Judaism? No 'figs' have grown on that 'thistle.'\nThe world has passed it by, and left all its subtle casuistries and\npainfully microscopic studies of the letter of Scripture--with utter\noblivion of its spirit--left them all severely and wisely alone.\nJudaism is a dead tree.\n\nAnd is there nothing else in this incident? 'No man eat fruit of thee\nhereafter for ever'; the punishment of that fruitlessness was\nconfirmed and eternal barrenness. _There_ is the lesson that the\npunishment of any Bin is to bind the sin upon the doer of it.\n\nBut, further, the church or the individual whose religion runs to leaf\nis useless to the world. What does the world care about the\nceremonials and the externals of worship, and a painful orthodoxy, and\nthe study of the letter of Scripture? Nothing. A useless church or a\nChristian, from whom no man gets any fruit to cool a thirsty, parched\nlip, is only fit for what comes after the barrenness, and that is,\nthat every tree that bringeth 'not forth good fruit is hewn down and\ncast into the fire.' The churches of England, and we, as integral\nparts of these, have solemn duties lying upon us to-day; and if we\ncannot help our brethren, and feed and nourish the hungry and thirsty\nhearts and souls of mankind, then--then! the sooner we are plucked up\nand pitched over the vineyard wall, which is the fate of the barren\nvine, the better for the world and the better for the vineyard.\n\nThe fate of Judaism teaches, to all of us professing Christians, very\nsolemn lessons. 'If God spared not the natural branches, take heed\nlest He also spare not thee.' What has become of the seven churches of\nAsia Minor? They hardened into chattering theological 'orthodoxy,' and\nall the blood of them went to the surface, so to speak. And so down\ncame the Mohammedan power--which was strong then because it did\nbelieve in a God, and not in its own belief about a God--and wiped\nthem off the face of the earth. And so, brethren, we have, in this\nmiracle, a warning and a prophecy which it becomes all the Christian\ncommunities of this day, and the individual members of such, to lay\nvery earnestly to heart.\n\nBut do not let us forget that the Evangelist who does not tell us the\nstory of the blasted fig-tree does tell us its analogue, the parable\nof the barren fig-tree, and that in it we read that when the fiat of\ndestruction had gone forth, there was one who said, 'Let it alone this\nyear also that I may dig about it, ... and if it bear fruit, well! If\nnot, after that thou shalt cut it down.' So the barren tree may become\na fruitful tree, though it has hitherto borne nothing but leaves. Your\nreligion may have been all on the surface and in form, but you can\ncome into touch with Him in whom is our life and from whom comes our\nfruitfulness. He has said to each of us, 'As the branch cannot bear\nfruit of itself, except it abide in the vine, no more can ye, except\nye abide in Me.'\n\n\n\nDISHONEST TENANTS\n\n\n'And He began to speak unto them by parables. A certain man planted a\nvineyard, and set an hedge about it, and digged a place for the\nwinefat, and built a tower, and let it out to husbandmen, and went\ninto a far country. 2. And at the season he sent to the husbandmen a\nservant, that he might receive from the husbandmen of the fruit of the\nvineyard. 3. And they caught him, and beat him, and sent him away\nempty. 4. And again he sent unto them another servant; and at him they\ncast stones, and wounded him in the head, and sent him away shamefully\nhandled. 5. And again he sent another; and him they killed, and many\nothers; beating some, and killing some 6. Having yet therefore one\nson, his well beloved, he sent him also last unto them, saying, They\nwill reverence my son. 7. But those husbandmen said among themselves,\nThis is the heir; come, let us kill him, and the inheritance shall be\nours. 8. And they took him, and killed him, and cast him out of the\nvineyard. 9. What shall therefore the lord of the vineyard do? He will\ncome and destroy the husbandmen, and will give the vineyard unto\nothers. 10. And have ye not read this scripture: The stone which the\nbuilders rejected is become the head of the corner: 11. This was the\nLord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes? 12. And they sought to\nlay hold on Him, but feared the people: for they knew that He had\nspoken the parable against them; and they left Him, and went their\nway.'--Mark xii. 1-12.\n\nThe ecclesiastical rulers had just been questioning Jesus as to the\nauthority by which He acted. His answer, a counter-question as to\nJohn's authority, was not an evasion. If they decided whence John\ncame, they would not be at any loss as to whence Jesus came. If they\nsteeled themselves against acknowledging the Forerunner, they would\nnot be receptive of Christ's message. That keen-edged retort plainly\nindicates Christ's conviction of the rulers' insincerity, and in this\nparable He charges home on these solemn hypocrites their share in the\nhereditary rejection of messengers whose authority was unquestionable.\nMuch they cared for even divine authority, as they and their\npredecessors had shown through centuries! The veil of parable is\ntransparent here. Jesus increased in severity and bold attack as the\nend drew near.\n\nI. The parable begins with a tender description of the preparation and\nallotment of the vineyard. The picture is based upon Isaiah's lovely\napologue (Isaiah v. 1), which was, no doubt, familiar to the learned\nofficials. But there is a slight difference in the application of the\nmetaphor which in Isaiah means the nation, and in the parable is\nrather the theocracy as an institution, or, as we may put it roughly,\nthe aggregate of divine revelations and appointments which constituted\nthe religious prerogatives of Israel.\n\nOur Lord follows the original passage in the description of the\npreparation of the vineyard, but it would probably be going too far to\npress special meanings on the wall, the wine-press, and the watchman's\ntower. The fence was to keep off marauders, whether passers-by or 'the\nboar out of the wood' (Psalm lxxx. 12,13); the wine-press, for which\nMark uses the word which means rather the vat into which the juice\nfrom the press proper flowed, was to extract and collect the precious\nliquid; the tower was for the watchman.\n\nA vineyard with all these fittings was ready for profitable\noccupation. Thus abundantly had God furnished Israel with all that was\nneeded for fruitful, happy service. What was true of the ancient\nChurch is still more true of us who have received every requisite for\nholy living. Isaiah's solemn appeal has a still sharper edge for\nChristians: 'Judge, I pray you, betwixt me and my vineyard. What could\nhave been done more to my vineyard that I have not done in it?'\n\nThe 'letting of the vineyard to husbandmen' means the committal to\nIsrael and its rulers of these divine institutions, and the holding\nthem responsible for their fruitfulness. It may be a question whether\nthe tenants are to be understood as only the official persons, or\nwhether, while these are primarily addressed, they represent the whole\npeople. The usual interpretation limits the meaning to the rulers,\nbut, if so, it is difficult to carry out the application, as the\nvineyard would then have to be regarded as being the nation, which\nconfuses all. The language of Matthew (which threatens the taking of\nthe vineyard and giving it to another nation) obliges us to regard the\nnation as included in the husbandmen, though primarily the expression\nis addressed to the rulers.\n\nBut more important is it to note the strong expressions for man's\nquasi-independence and responsibility. The Jew was invested with full\npossession of the vineyard. We all, in like manner, have intrusted to\nus, to do as we will with, the various gifts and powers of Christ's\ngospel. God, as it were, draws somewhat apart from man, that he may\nhave free play for his choice, and bear the burden of responsibility.\nThe divine action was conspicuous at the time of founding the polity\nof Judaism, and then came long years in which there were no miracles,\nbut all things continued as they were. God was as near as before, but\nHe seemed far off. Thus Jesus has, in like manner, gone 'into a far\ncountry to receive a kingdom and to return'; and we, the tenants of a\nricher vineyard than Israel's, have to administer what He has\nintrusted to us, and to bring near by faith Him who is to sense far\noff.\n\nII. The next scenes paint the conduct of the dishonest vine-dressers.\nWe mark the stern, dark picture drawn of the continued and brutal\nviolence, as well as the flagrant unfaithfulness, of the tenants.\nMatthew's version gives emphasis to the increasing harshness of\ntreatment of the owner's messengers, as does Mark's. First comes\nbeating, then wounding, then murder. The interpretation is\nself-evident. The 'servants' are the prophets, mostly men inferior in\nrank to the hierarchy, shepherds, fig-gatherers, and the like. They\ncame to rouse Israel to a sense of the purpose for which they had\nreceived their distinguishing prerogatives, and their reward had been\ncontempt and maltreatment. They 'had trial of mockings and scourgings,\nof bonds and imprisonment: they were stoned, they were sawn asunder,\nthey were slain with the sword.'\n\nThe indictment is the same as that by which Stephen wrought the\nSanhedrim into a paroxysm of fury. To make such a charge as Jesus did,\nin the very Temple courts, and with the already hostile priests\nglaring at Him while He spoke, was a deliberate assault on them and\ntheir predecessors, whose true successors they showed themselves to\nbe. They had just been solemnly questioning Him as to His authority.\nHe answers by thus passing in review the uniform treatment meted by\nthem and their like to those who came with God's manifest authority.\n\nIf a mere man had spoken this parable, we might admire the magnificent\naudacity of such an accusation. But the Speaker is more than man, and\nwe have to recognise the judicial calmness and severity of His tone.\nIsrael's history, as it shaped itself before His 'pure eyes and\nperfect judgment,' was one long series of divine favours and of human\ningratitude, of ample preparations for righteous living and of no\nresult, of messengers sent and their contumelious rejection. We wonder\nat the sad monotony of such requital. Are we doing otherwise?\n\nIII. Then comes the last effort of the Owner, the last arrow in the\nquiver of Almighty Love. Two things are to be pondered in this part of\nthe parable. First, that wonderful glimpse into the depths of God's\nheart, in the hope expressed by the Owner of the vineyard, brings out\nvery clearly Christ's claim, made there before all these hostile, keen\ncritics, to stand in an altogether singular relation to God. He\nasserts His Sonship as separating Him from the class of prophets who\nare servants only, and as constituting a relationship with the Father\nprior to His coming to earth. His Sonship is no mere synonym for His\nMessiahship, but was a fact long before Bethlehem; and its assertion\nlifts for us a corner of the veil of cloud and darkness round the\nthrone of God. Not less striking is the expression of a frustrated\nhope in 'they will reverence My Son.' Men can thwart God's purpose.\nHis divine charity 'hopeth all things.' The mystery thus sharply put\nhere is but that which is presented everywhere in the co-existence of\nGod's purposes and man's freedom.\n\nThe other noteworthy point is the corresponding casting of the\nvine-dressers' thoughts into words. Both representations are due to\nthe graphic character of parable; both crystallise into speech motives\nwhich were not actually spoken. It is unnecessary to suppose that even\nthe rulers of Israel had gone the awful length of clear recognition of\nChrist's Messiahship, and of looking each other in the face and\nwhispering such a fiendish resolve. Jesus is here dragging to light\nunconscious motives. The masses did wish to have their national\nprivileges and to avoid their national duties. The rulers did wish to\nhave their sway over minds and consciences undisturbed. They did\nresent Jesus' interference, chiefly because they instinctively felt\nthat it threatened their position. They wanted to get Him out of the\nway, that they might lord it at will. They could have known that He\nwas the Son, and they suppressed dawning suspicions that He was. Alas!\nthey have descendants still in many of us who put away His claims,\neven while we secretly recognise them, in order that we may do as we\nlike without His meddling with us!\n\nThe rulers' calculation was a blunder. As Augustine says, 'They slew\nHim that they might possess, and, because they slew, they lost.' So is\nit always. Whoever tries to secure any desired end by putting away his\nresponsibility to render to God the fruit of his thankful service,\nloses the good which he would fain clutch at for his own. All sin is a\nmistake.\n\nThe parable passes from thinly veiled history to equally transparent\nprediction. How sadly and how unshrinkingly does the meek yet mighty\nVictim disclose to the conspirators His perfect knowledge of the\nmurder which they were even now hatching in their minds! He foresees\nall, and will not lift a finger to prevent it. Mark puts the 'killing'\nbefore the 'casting out of the vineyard,' while Matthew and Luke\ninvert the order of the two things. The slaughtered corpse was, as a\nfurther indignity, thrown over the wall, by which is symbolically\nexpressed His exclusion from Israel, and the vine-dressers' delusion\nthat they now had secured undisturbed possession.\n\nIV. The last point is the authoritative sentence on the evil-doers.\nMark's condensed account makes Christ Himself answer His own question.\nProbably we are to suppose that, with hypocritical readiness, some of\nthe rulers replied, as the other Evangelists represent, and that Jesus\nthen solemnly took up their words. If anything could have enraged the\nrulers more than the parable itself, the distinct declaration of the\ntransference of Israel's prerogatives to more worthy tenants would do\nso. The words are heavy with doom. They carry a lesson for us.\nStewardship implies responsibility, and faithlessness, sooner or\nlater, involves deprivation. The only way to keep God's gifts is to\nuse them for His glory. 'The grace of God,' says Luther somewhere, 'is\nlike a flying summer shower.' Where are Ephesus and the other\napocalyptic churches? Let us 'take heed lest, if God spared not the\nnatural branches, He also spare not us.'\n\nJesus leaves the hearers with the old psalm ringing in their ears,\nwhich proclaimed that 'the stone which the builders rejected becomes\nthe head stone of the corner.' Other words of the same psalm had been\nchanted by the crowd in the procession on entering the city. Their\nfervour was cooling, but the prophecy would still be fulfilled. The\nbuilders are the same as the vine-dressers; their rejection of the\nstone is parallel with slaying the Son.\n\nBut though Jesus foretells His death, He also foretells His triumph\nafter death. How could He have spoken, almost in one breath, the\nprophecy of His being slain and 'cast out of the vineyard,' and that\nof His being exalted to be the very apex and shining summit of the\ntrue Temple, unless He had been conscious that His death was indeed\nnot the end, but the centre, of His work, and His elevation to\nuniversal and unchanging dominion?\n\n\n\nGOD'S LAST ARROW\n\n\n'Having yet therefore one son, his well-beloved, he sent him also last\nunto them.'--Mark xii. 6.\n\nReference to Isaiah v. There are differences in detail here which need\nnot trouble us.\n\nIsaiah's parable is a review of the theocratic history of Israel, and\nclearly the messengers are the prophets; here Christ speaks of Himself\nand His own mission to Israel, and goes on to tell of His death as\nalready accomplished.\n\nI. The Son who follows and surpasses the servants.\n\n(a) Our Lord here places Himself in the line of the prophets as coming\nfor a similar purpose. The mission _to Israel_ was the same. The\nmission _of His life_ was the same.\n\nThe last words of the lawgiver certainly point to a person (Deut.\nxviii. 18): 'A prophet shall the Lord your God raise up unto you like\nunto me. Him shall ye hear.' How ridiculous the cool superciliousness\nwith which modern historical criticism 'pooh-poohs' that\ninterpretation! But the contrast is quite as prominent as the\nresemblance. This saying is one which occurs in all the Synoptics, and\nis as full a declaration of Sonship as any in John's Gospel. It\nreposes on the scene at the baptism (Matt, iii.): 'This is My beloved\nSon!' Such a saying was well enough understood by the Jews to mean\nmore than the 'Messiah.' It clearly involves kindred to the divine in\na far other and higher sense than any prophet ever had it. It involves\npre-existence. It asserts that He was the special object of the divine\nlove, the 'heir.'\n\nYou cannot relieve the New Testament Christ of the responsibility of\nhaving made such assertions. There they are! He did deliberately\ndeclare that He was, in a unique sense, '_the_ Son' on whom the love\nand complacency of the Father rested continually.\n\nII. The aggravation of men's sins as tending to the enhancement of the\ndivine efforts.\n\nThe terrible Nemesis of evil is that it ever tends to reproduce itself\nin aggravated forms. Think of the influence of habit; the searing of\nconscience, so that we become able to do things that we would have\nshrunk from at an earlier stage. Remember how impunity leads to\ngreater sin. So here the first servant is merely sent away empty, the\nsecond is wounded and disgraced, the third is killed. All evil is an\ninclined plane, a steady, downward progress. How beautifully the\nopposite principle of the divine love and patience is represented as\nstriving with the increasing hate and resistance! According to\nMatthew, the householder sent other servants '_more than_ the first,'\nand the climax was that he sent his son. Mightier forces are brought\nto bear. This attraction _increases_ as the square of the distance.\nThe blacker the cloud, the brighter the sun; the thicker the ice, the\nhotter the flame; the harder the soil, the stronger the ploughshare.\nNote, too, the undertone of sacrifice and of yearning for the son\nwhich may be discerned in the 'householder's' words. The son is his\n'dearest treasure,' his mightiest gift, than which is nothing higher.\n\nThe mission of Christ is the ultimate appeal of God to men.\n\nIn the primary sense of the parable Jesus does close the history of\nthe divine strivings with Israel. After Christ, the last of the\nprophets, the divine voice ceases; after the blaze of that light all\nis dark. There is nothing more remarkable in the whole history of the\nworld than that cessation in an instant, as it were, of the long,\naugust series of divine efforts for Israel. Henceforward there is an\nawful silence. 'Forsaken Israel wanders lone.'\n\nAnd the principle involved for us is the same.\n\n'Christ crucified' is more than Christ miracle-working. That 'more' we\nhave, as the Jews had. But if that avails not, then nothing else will.\n\nHe is 'last' because highest, strongest, and all-sufficient.\n\nHe is 'last' inasmuch as all since are but echoes of His voice and\nproclaimers of His grace.\n\nHe is 'last' as the eternal and the permanent, the 'same for ever'\n(Heb. xiii. 8). There are to be no new powers for the world; no new\nforces to draw men to God. God's quiver is empty, His last bolt shot,\nHis most tender appeal made.\n\nIII. The unwearied divine charity.\n\n'They will reverence My Son.' May we not say this is a divine hope? It\nis not worth while to make a difficulty of the bold representation. It\nis but parallel to all the dealings of God with men; and it sets forth\nthe possibility that He _might_ have won Israel back to God and to\nobedience. It suggests the good faith and the earnestness with which\nGod sent Him, and He came, to bring Israel back to God. But we are not\nto suppose that this divine hope excluded the divine purpose of His\ndeath or was inconsistent with that, for He goes on to speak of His\ndeath as if it were past (verse 8). This shows how distinctly He\nforeknew it.\n\nIts highest aspect is not here, for it was not needed for the parable.\n'With wicked hands ye have crucified,' etc., is true, as well as 'I\nlay it down of Myself.'\n\nLet us lay to heart the solemn love which warns by prophesying, tells\nwhat men are going to do in order that they may _not_ do it (and what\nHe will do in order that He may _not_ have to do it). And let us yield\nourselves to the power of Christ's death as God's magnet for drawing\nus all back to Him; and as certain to bring about at last the\nsatisfaction of the Father's long-frustrated hope: 'They will\nreverence my Son,' and the fulfilment of the Son's long-unaccomplished\nprediction: 'I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men\nunto Me.'\n\n\n\nNOT FAR AND NOT IN\n\n\n'Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.'--Mark xii. 34,\n\n'A bruised reed He will not break, and the smoking flax He will not\nquench.'\n\nHere is Christ's recognition of the low beginnings of goodness and\nfaith.\n\nThis is a special case of a man who appears to have fully discerned\nthe spirituality and inwardness of law, and to have felt that the one\nbond between God and man was love. He needed only to have followed out\nthe former thought to have been smitten by the conviction of his own\nsinfulness, and to have reflected on the latter to have discovered\nthat he needed some one who could certify and commend God's love to\nhim, and thereby to kindle his to God. Christ recognises such\nbeginnings and encourages him to persevere: but warns him against the\ndanger of supposing himself in the kingdom, and against the\nprolongation of what is only good as a transition state.\n\nThis Scribe is an interesting study as being one who recognised the\nLaw in its spiritual meaning, in opposition to forms and ceremonies.\nHis intellectual convictions needed to be led on from recognition of\nthe spirituality of the Law to recognition of his own failures. 'By\nlaw is the knowledge of sin.' His intellectual convictions needed to\npass over into and influence his heart and life. He recognised true\npiety, and was earnestly striving after it, but entrance into the\nkingdom is by faith in the Saviour, who is 'the Way.' So Jesus' praise\nof him is but measured. For in him there was separation between\nknowing and doing.\n\nI. Who are near?\n\nChrist's kingdom is near us all, whether we are heathen, infidel,\nprofligate or not.\n\nHere is a distinct recognition of two things--(a) Degrees of\napproximation; (b) decisive separation between those who are, and\nthose who are not, within the kingdom.\n\nThis Scribe was near, and yet not in, the kingdom, because, like so\nmany in all ages, he had an intellectual hold of principles which he\nhad never followed out to their intellectual issues, nor ever\nenthroned as, in their practical issues, the guides of his life. How\nconstantly we find characters of similar incompleteness among\nourselves!\n\nHow many of us have true thoughts concerning God's law and what it\nrequires, which ought, in all reason, to have brought us to the\nconsciousness of our own sin, and are yet untouched by one pang of\npenitence! How many of us have lying in our heads, like disused\nfurniture in a lumber-room, what we suppose to be beliefs of ours,\nwhich only need to be followed out to their necessary results to\nrefurnish with a new equipment the whole of our religious thinking!\nHow few of us do really take pains to bring our beliefs into clear\nsunlight, and to follow them wherever they lead us! There is no\ncommoner fault, and no greater foe, than the hazy, lazy half-belief,\nof which its owner neither knows the grounds nor perceives the\nintellectual or the practical issues.\n\nThere are multitudes who have, or have had, convictions of which the\nonly rational outcome is practical surrender to Jesus Christ by faith\nand love. Such persons abound in Christian congregations and in\nChristian homes. They are on the verge of 'the great surrender,' but\nthey do not go beyond the verge, and so they perpetrate 'the great\nrefusal.' And to all such the word of our text should sound as a\nwarning note, which has also hope in its bone. 'Not far from' is still\n'outside.'\n\nII. Why they are only near.\n\nThe reason is not because of anything apart from themselves. The\nChristian gospel offers immediate entrance into the Kingdom, and all\nthe gifts which its King can bestow, to all and every one who will. So\nthat the sole cause of any man's non-entrance lies with himself.\n\nWe have spoken of failure to follow out truths partially grasped, and\nthat constitutes a reason which affects the intellect mainly, and\nplays its part in keeping men out of the Kingdom.\n\nBut there are other, perhaps more common, reasons, which intervene to\nprevent convictions being followed out into their properly consequent\nacts.\n\nThe two most familiar and fatal of these are:--\n\n(a) Procrastination.\n\n(b) Lingering love of the world.\n\nIII. Such men cannot continue near.\n\nThe state is necessarily transitional. It must pass over into--(a)\nEither going on and into the Kingdom, or (b) going further away from\nit.\n\nChrist warns here, and would stimulate to action, for--(a) Convictions\nnot acted on die; (b) truths not followed out fade; (c) impressions\nresisted are harder to be made again; (d) obstacles increase with\ntime; (e) the habit of lingering becomes strengthened.\n\nIV. Unless you are in, you are finally shut out.\n\n'City of refuge.' It was of no avail to have been _near_. 'Strive to\nenter _in_.'\n\nAppeal to all such as are in this transition stage.\n\n\n\nTHE CREDULITY OF UNBELIEF\n\n\n'Many shall come in My name, saying, I am Christ, and shall deceive\nmany.'--Mark xiii. 6.\n\n'When the Son of Man cometh, shall He find faith on the earth?'--Luke\nxviii. 8.\n\nIt was the same generation that is represented in these two texts as\nvoid of faith in the Son of Man, and as credulously giving heed to\nimpostors. Unbelief and superstition are closely allied. Religion is\nso vital a necessity, that if the true form of it be cast aside, some\nfalse form will be eagerly seized in order to fill the aching void.\nMen cannot permanently live without some sort of a faith in the\nUnseen, but they can determine whether it shall be a worthy\nrecognition of a worthy conception of that Unseen, or a debasing\nsuperstition. An epoch of materialism in philosophic thought has\nalways been followed by violent reaction, in which quacks and fanatics\nhave reaped rich harvests. If the dark is not peopled with one loved\nFace, our busy imagination will fill it with a crowd of horrible ones.\n\nJust as a sailor, looking out into the night over a solitary,\nislandless sea, sees shapes; intolerant of the islandless expanse,\nmakes land out of fogbanks; and, sick of silence, hears 'airy tongues'\nin the moanings of the wind and the slow roll of the waves, so men\nshudderingly look into the dark unknown, and if they see not their\nFather there, will either shut their eyes or strain them in gazing it\ninto shape. The sight of Him is religion, the closed eye is\ninfidelity, the strained gaze is superstition. The second and the\nthird are each so unsatisfying that they perpetually pass over into\none another and destroy one another, as when I shut my eyes, I see\nslowly shaping itself a coloured image of my eye, which soon flickers\nand fluctuates into black nothingness again, and then rises once more,\nonce more to fade. Men, if they believe not in God, then do service to\n'them which by nature are no gods.'\n\nBut let us come to more immediately Christian thoughts. Christ does\nwhat men so urgently require to be done, that if they do not believe\nin Him they will be forced to shape out for themselves some fancied\nways of doing it. The emotions which men cherish towards Him so\nirrepressibly need an object to rest on, that if not He, then some far\nless worthy one, will be chosen to receive them.\n\nIt is just to the illustration of these thoughts that I seek to turn\nnow, and in such alternatives as these--\n\nI. Reception of Christ as the Revealer is the only escape from unmanly\nsubmission to unworthy pretenders.\n\nThat function is one which the instincts of men teach them that they\nneed.\n\nChrist comes to satisfy the need as the visible true embodiment of the\nFather's love, of the Father's wisdom.\n\nIf He be rejected--what then? Why, not that the men who reject will\ncontentedly continue in darkness--that is never possible; but that\nsome manner or other of satisfying the clamant need will be had\nrecourse to, and then that to it will be transferred the submission\nand credence that should have been His. If we have Him for our Teacher\nand Guide, then all other teachers and guides will take their right\nplaces. We shall not angrily repel their power, nor talk loudly about\n'the right of private judgment,' and our independence of all men's\nthoughts. We are not so independent. We shall thankfully accept all\nhelp from all men wiser, better, more manly than ourselves, whether\nthey give us uttered words of wisdom and beauty, having 'grace poured\ninto their lips,' or whether they give us lives ennobled by strenuous\neffort, or whether they give us greater treasure than all these--the\nsight once more of a loving heart. All is good, all is helpful, all we\nshall receive; but in proportion to the felt obligations we are laid\nunder to them will be the felt authority of that saying, 'Call no man\nyour master on earth, for One is your Master, even Christ.' That\ncommand forbids our slavishly accepting any human domination over our\nfaith, but it no less emphatically forbids our contemptuously\nrejecting any human helper of our joy, for it closes with 'and all ye\nare brethren'--bound then to mutual observance, mutual helpfulness,\nmutual respect for each other's individuality, mutual avoidance of\nneedless division. To have Him for his Guide makes the human guide\ngentle and tender among his disciples 'as a nurse among her children,'\nfor he remembers 'the gentleness of Christ,' and he dare not be other\nthan an imitator of Him. A Christian teacher's spirit will always be,\n'not for that we have dominion over your faith, but we are helpers of\nyour joy'; his most earnest word, 'I beseech you, therefore,\nbrethren'; his constant desire, 'He must increase. I must decrease.'\nAnd to have Christ for our Guide makes the taught lovingly submissive\nto all who by largeness of gifts and graces are set by Him above them,\nand yet lovingly recalcitrant at any attempt to compel adhesion or\nforce dogmas. The one freedom from undue dependence on men and men's\nopinions lies in this submission to Jesus. Then we can say, when need\nis, 'I have a Master. To Him I submit; if _you_ seek to be master, I\ndemur: of them who seemed to be somewhat, whatsoever they were, it\nmaketh no matter to me.'\n\nBut the greatest danger is not that our guides shall insist on our\nsubmission, but that we shall insist on giving it. It is for all of us\nsuch a burden to have the management of our own fate, the forming of\nour own opinions, the fearful responsibility of our own destiny, that\nwe are all only too ready to say to some man or other, from love or\nfrom laziness, 'Where thou goest, I will go; thy people shall be my\npeople, and thy God my God.'\n\nFew things are more strange and tragic than the eagerness with which\npeople who are a great deal too enlightened to render allegiance to\nJesus Christ will install some teacher of their own choosing as their\nauthoritative master, will swallow his dicta, swear by him, and glory\nin being called by his name. What they think it derogatory to their\nmental independence to give to the Teacher of Nazareth, they freely\ngive to their chosen oracle. It is not in 'the last times' only that\nmen who will not endure sound teaching 'heap to themselves teachers\nafter their own lusts,' and have 'the ears' which are fast closed to\n'the Truth' wide open 'to fables.'\n\nOn the small scale we see this melancholy perversity of conduct\nexemplified in every little coterie and school of unbelievers.\n\nOn the great scale Mohammedanism and Buddhism, with their millions of\nadherents, write the same tragic truth large in the history of the\nworld.\n\nII. Faith in the reconciling Christ is the only sure deliverance from\ndebasing reliance on false means of reconciliation.\n\nIn a very profound sense ignorance and sin are the same fact regarded\nunder two different aspects. And in the depths of their natures men\nhave the longing for some Power who shall put away sin, as they have\nthe longing for one that will dispel ignorance. The consciousness of\nalienation from God lies in the human heart, dormant indeed for the\nmost part, but like a coiled, hibernating snake, ready to wake and\nstrike its poison into the veins. Christ by His great work, and\nspecially by His sacrificial death, meets that universal need.\n\nBut closely as His work fits men's needs, it sharply opposes some of\ntheir wishes, and of their interpretations of their needs. The Jew\n'demands a sign,' the Greek craves a reasoned system of 'wisdom,' and\nboth concur in finding the Cross an 'offence.'\n\nBut the rejection of Jesus as the Reconciler does not quiet the\ncravings, which make themselves heard at some time or other in most\nconsciences, for deliverance from the dominion and from the guilt of\nsin. And men are driven to adopt other expedients to fill up the void\nwhich their turning away from Jesus has left. Sometimes they fall back\non a vague reliance on a vague assertion that 'God is merciful';\nsometimes they reason themselves into a belief--or, at any rate, an\nassertion--that the conception of sin is an error, and that men are\nnot guilty. Sometimes they manage to silence the inward voice that\naccuses and condemns, by dint of not listening to it or drowning it by\nother noises.\n\nBut these expedients fail them some time or other, and then, if they\nhave not cast the burden of their sin and their sins on the great\nReconciler, they either have to weary themselves with painful and vain\nefforts to be their own redeemers, or they fall under the domination\nof a priest.\n\nHence the hideous penances of heathenism; and hence, too, the power of\nsacramentarian and sacerdotal perversions of evangelical truth.\n\nIII. Faith in Christ as the Regenerator is the only deliverance from\nbaseless hopes for the world.\n\nThe world is today full of moaning voices crying, 'Art thou He that\nshould come, or do we look for another?' and it is full of confident\nvoices proclaiming other means of its regeneration than letting Christ\n'make all things new.'\n\nThe conviction that society needs to be reconstituted on other\nprinciples is spread everywhere, and is often associated with intense\ndisbelief in Christ the Regenerator.\n\nHas not the past proved that all schemes for the regeneration of\nsociety which do not grapple with the fact of sin, and which do not\nprovide a means of infusing into human nature a new impulse and\ndirection, will end in failure, and are only too likely to end in\nblood? These two requirements are met by Jesus, and by Him only, and\nwhoever rejects Him and His gift of pardon and cleansing, and His\ninbreathing of a new life into the individual, will fail in his\neffort, however earnest and noble in many aspects, to redeem society\nand bring about a fair new world.\n\nIt is pitiable to see the waste of high aspiration and eager effort in\nso many quarters today. But that waste is sure to attend every scheme\nwhich does not start from the recognition of Christ's work as the\nbasis of the world's transformation, and does not crown Him as the\nKing, because He is the Saviour, of mankind.\n\n\n\nAUTHORITY AND WORK\n\n\n'For the Son of Man is as a man taking a far journey, who left his\nhouse, and gave authority to his servants, and to every man his work,\nand commanded the porter to watch.'--Mark xiii. 34.\n\nChurch order is not directly touched on in the Gospels, but the\nprinciples which underlie all Church order are distinctly laid down.\nThe whole community of Christian people is a family or household,\nbeing brethren because possessors of a new life through Christ. In\nthat household there is one 'Master,' and all its members are\n'servants.' That name suggests the purpose for which they exist; the\nmeaning of all their offices, dignities, etc.\n\nI. The authority with which the servants are invested.\n\nWe hear a great deal about the authority of the Church in these days,\nas a determiner of truth and as a prescriber of Christian action. It\nmeans generally official authority, the power of guidance and\ndefinition of the Church's action, etc., which some people think is\nlodged in the hands of preachers, pastors, priests, either\nindividually or collectively. There is nothing of that sort meant\nhere. Whatever this authority is, it belongs to the whole body of the\nservants, not to individuals among them. It is the prerogative of the\nwhole _ecclesia_, not of some handful of them. 'This honour,' whatever\nit be, 'have all the saints.'\n\nExplain by reference to 'the kings of the earth exercise lordship over\nthem'; 'the greatest shall be your servant.' It is then but another\nname for capacity for service, power to bless, etc.\n\nAnd this idea is still further borne out if we go back to the parable\nof our text. A man leaves his house in charge of his servants. To them\nis committed the responsibility for his goods. His honour and\ninterests are in their hands. They have control over his possessions.\nThis is the analogy which our Lord suggests as presenting a vivid\nlikeness to our position in the world.\n\nChrist has committed the care of His kingdom, the glory of His name,\nthe growth of His cause in the world to His Church, and has endowed it\nwith all 'talents,' _i.e._ gifts needful for that work. Or, to put it\nin other words, they are His representatives in the world. They have\nto defend His honour. His name is scandalised or glorified by their\nactions. They have to see to His interests. They are charged with the\ncarrying out of His mind and purposes.\n\nThe foundation of all is laid. Henceforth building on it is all, and\nthat is to be done by men. Human lips and Christian effort--not\nwithout the divine Spirit in the word--are to be the means.\n\nIt is as when some commander plans his battle, and from an eminence\noverlooks the current of the fight, and marks the plunging legions as\nthey struggle through the smoke. He holds all the tremendous machinery\nin his hands. The plan and the glory are his, but the execution of the\nplan lies with the troops.\n\nIn a still more true sense all the glory of the Christian conquest of\nthe world is His, but still the instruments are ourselves. The whole\ncounsel of God is on our side. We 'go not a warfare at our own\ncharges.' Note the perfect consistency of this with all that we hold\nof the necessity of divine influence, etc.\n\nHis servants are intrusted with all His 'goods.' They have authority\nover the gifts which He has given them, _i.e._ Christian men are\nstewards of Christ's riches for others.\n\nThey have access to the free use of them all for themselves.\n\nThus the 'authority' is all derived. It is all given for the sake of\nothers. It is all capacity for service. Hence--\n\nII. The authority with which the servants are invested binds every one\nof them to hard work for Christ.\n\n'To every man his work'\n\n(1) Gifts involve duties. That is the first great thought. To have\nreceived binds us to impart. 'Freely ye have received, freely give.'\n\nAll selfish possession of the gifts which Christ bestows is grave sin.\n\nThe price at which they were procured, that miracle and mystery of\nself-sacrifice, is the great pattern as well as the great motive for\nour service.\n\nThe purpose for which we have received them is plainly set forth: in\nthe existence of the solidarity in which we are all bound; in the\ndefinite utterances of Scripture.\n\nThe need for their exercise is only too palpable in the condition of\nthings around us.\n\n(2) In this multitude of servants every one has his own task.\n\nThe universality of the great gift leads to a corresponding\nuniversality of obligation. All Christians have their gifts. Each of\nus has his special work marked out for him by character,\nrelationships, circumstances, natural tastes, etc.\n\nHow solemn a divine call there is in these individual peculiarities\nwhich we so often think of as unimportant accidents, or regard mainly\nin their bearing on our own ease and comfort! How reverently we should\nregard the diversities which are thus revelations of God's will\nconcerning our tasks! How earnestly we should seek to know what it is\nthat we are fitted for!\n\nThe importance of all protests against priestly assumption lies here,\nthat they strengthen the force with which we proclaim that every man\nhas his 'work.'\n\nPonder the variety of characters and gifts which Christ gives and\ndesires His servants to use, and the indispensable need for them all.\nThe ideal Church is the 'body' of Christ, in which each member has its\nplace and function.\n\nOur fault in this matter.\n\n(3) The duties are to be done in the spirit of hard toil.\n\nThe servant has 'his work' allotted him, and the word implies that the\nwork calls for effort. The race is not to be run without dust and\nsweat. Our Christian service is not to be regarded as a 'bye-product'\nor _parergon_. It is, so to speak, a _vocation_, not an _avocation_.\nIt deserves and demands all the energy that we can put forth,\ncontinuity and constancy, plan and system. Nothing is to be done for\nGod, any more than for ourselves, without toil. 'In the sweat of thy\nbrow shalt thou eat bread and give it to others.'\n\nIII, To do this work, watchfulness is needed.\n\nThe division of tasks between 'servant' and 'porter' is only part of\nthe drapery of the parable. To show that watchfulness belongs to all,\nsee the two following verses.\n\nWhat is this watchfulness?\n\nNot constant fidgety curiosity about the coming of the Lord; not\nhunting after apocalyptic dates. The modern impression seems to be\nthat such study is 'watchfulness.' Christ says that the time of His\ncoming is hidden (see previous verses). Ignorance of that is the very\nreason why we are to watch. Watchfulness, then, is just a profound and\nconstant feeling of the transiency of this present. The mind is to be\nkept detached from it; the eye and heart are to be going out to things\n'unseen and eternal'; we are to be familiarising ourselves with the\nthought that the world is passing away.\n\nThis watchfulness is an indispensable part of our 'work.' The true\nChristian thought of the transiency of the world sets us to work the\nmore vigorously in it, and increases, not diminishes, our sense of the\nimportance of time and of earthly things, and braces us to our tasks\nby the thought of the brevity of opportunity, as well as by guarding\nus against tastes and habits which eat all earnestness out of the\nsoul.\n\nThus 'working and watching,' happy will be the servant whom his Lord\nwill find 'so doing,' _i.e._ at work, not idly looking for Him. Our\ncommon duties are the best preparation for our Lord's coming.\n\n\n\nTHE ALABASTER BOX\n\n\n'And Jesus said, Let her alone; why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a\ngood work on Me.... 8. She hath done what she could: she is come\naforehand to anoint My body to the burying. 9. Verily I say unto you.\nWheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world,\nthis also that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of\nher.'--Mark xiv. 6-9.\n\nJohn's Gospel sets this incident in its due framework of time and\nplace, and tells us the names of the actors. The time was within a\nweek of Calvary, the place was Bethany, where, as John significantly\nreminds us, Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead, thereby connecting\nthe feast with that incident; the woman who broke the box of ointment\nand poured the perfume on the head and feet of Jesus was Mary; the\nfirst critic of her action was Judas. Selfishness blames love for the\nprofusion and prodigality, which to it seem folly and waste. The\ndisciples chimed in with the objection, not because they were superior\nto Mary in wisdom, but because they were inferior in consecration.\n\nJohn tells us, too, that Martha was 'amongst them that served.' The\ncharacteristics of the two sisters are preserved. The two types of\ncharacter which they respectively represent have great difficulty in\nunderstanding and doing justice to one another. Christ understands and\ndoes justice to them both. Martha, bustling, practical, utilitarian to\nthe finger-tips, does not much care about listening to Christ's words\nof wisdom. She has not any very high-strung or finely-spun emotions,\nbut she can busy herself in getting a meal ready; she loves Him with\nall her heart, and she takes her own way of showing it. But she gets\nimpatient with her sister, and thinks that her sitting at Christ's\nfeet is a dreamy waste of time, and not without a touch of\nselfishness, 'taking no care for me, though I have got so much on my\nback.' And so, in like manner, Mary is made out to be a monster of\nselfishness; 'Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence,\nand given to the poor?' She could not serve, she would only have been\nin Martha's road if she had tried. But she had one precious thing\nwhich was her very own, and she caught it up, and in the irrepressible\nburst of her thankful love, as she saw Lazarus sitting there at the\ntable beside Jesus, she poured the liquid perfume on His head and\nfeet. He casts His shield over the poor, unpractical woman, who did\nsuch an utterly useless thing, for which a basin of water and a towel\nwould have served far better. There are a great many useless things\nwhich, in Heaven's estimate, are more valuable than a great many\napparently more practical ones. Christ accepts the service, and in His\ndeep words lays down three or four principles which it would do us all\ngood to carry with us into our daily lives. So I shall now try to\ngather from these utterances of our Lord's some great truths about\nChristian service.\n\nI. The first of them is the motive which hallows everything.\n\n'She hath wrought a good work on Me.' Now that is pretty nearly a\ndefinition of what a good work is, and you see it is very unlike our\nconventional notions of what constitutes a 'good work.' Christ implies\nthat anything, no matter what are its other characteristics, that is\n'on' Him, that is to say, directed towards Him under the impulse of\nsimple love to Him, is a 'good work'; and the converse follows, that\nnothing which has not that saving salt of reference to Him in it\ndeserves the title. Did you ever think of what an extraordinary\nposition that is for a man to take up? 'Think about Me in what you do,\nand you will do good. Do anything, no matter what, because you love\nMe, and it will be lifted up into high regions, and become\ntransfigured; a good work.' He took the best that any one could give\nHim, whether it was of outward possessions or of inward reverence,\nabject submission, and love and trust. He never said to any man, 'You\nare going over the score. You are exaggerating about Me. Stand up, for\nI also am a Man.' He did say once, 'Why callest thou Me good?' not\nbecause it was an incorrect attribution, but because it was a mere\npiece of conventional politeness. And in all other cases, not only\ndoes He accept as His rightful possession the utmost of reverence that\nany man can do Him, and bring Him, but He here implies, if He does\nnot, as He almost does, specifically declare, that to be done for His\nsake lifts a deed into the region of 'good' works.\n\nHave you reflected what such an attitude implies as to the\nself-consciousness of the Man who took it, and whether it is\nintelligible, not to say admirable, or rather whether it is not worthy\nof reprobation, except upon one hypothesis--'Thou art the everlasting\nSon of the Father,' and all men honour God when they honour the\nIncarnate Word? But that is aside from my present purpose.\n\nIs not this conception, that the motive of reverence and love to Him\nennobles and sanctifies every deed, the very fundamental principle of\nChristian morality? All things are sanctified when they are done for\nHis sake. You plunge a poor pebble into a brook, and as the sunlit\nripples pass over its surface, the hidden veins of delicate colour\ncome out and glow, and the poor stone looks a jewel, and is magnified\nas well as glorified by being immersed in the stream. Plunge your work\ninto Christ, and do it for Him, and the giver and the gift will be\ngreatened and sanctified.\n\nBut, brethren, if we take this point of view, and look to the motive,\nand not to the manner or the issues, or the immediate objects, of our\nactions, as determining whether they are good or no, it will\nrevolutionise a great many of our thoughts, and bring new ideas into\nmuch of our conventional language. 'A good work' is not a piece of\nbeneficence or benevolence, still less is it to be confined to those\nactions which conventional Christianity has chosen to dignify by the\nname. It is a designation that should not be clotted into certain\nspecified corners of a life, but be extended over them all. The things\nwhich more specifically go under such a name, the kind of things that\nJudas wanted to have substituted for the utterly useless, lavish\nexpenditure by this heart that was burdened with the weight of its own\nblessedness, come, or do not come, under the designation, according as\nthere is present in them, not only natural charity to the poor whom\n'ye have always with you,' but the higher reference of them to Christ\nHimself. All these lower forms of beneficence are imperfect without\nthat. And instead of, as we have been taught by authoritative voices\nof late years, the service of man being the true service of God, the\nrelation of the two terms is precisely the opposite, and it is the\nservice of God that will effloresce into all service of man. Judas did\nnot do much for the poor, and a great many other people who are\nsarcastic upon the 'folly,' the 'uncalculating impulses' of Christian\nlove, with its 'wasteful expenditure,' and criticise us because we are\nspending time and energy and love upon objects which they think are\nmoonshine and mist, do little more than he did, and what beneficence\nthey do exercise has to be hallowed by this reference to Jesus before\nit can aspire to be beneficence indeed.\n\nI sometimes wish that this generation of Christian people, amid its\nmultifarious schemes of beneficence, with none of which would one\ninterfere for a moment, would sometimes let itself go into\nmanifestations of its love to Jesus Christ, which had no use at all\nexcept to relieve its own burdened heart. I am afraid that the lower\nmotives, which are all right and legitimate when they are lower, are\nlargely hustling the higher ones into the background, and that the\nriver has got so many ponds to fill, and so many canals to trickle\nthrough, and so many plantations to irrigate and make verdant, that\nthere is a danger of its falling low at its fountain, and running\nshallow in its course. One sometimes would like to see more things\ndone for Him that the world would call 'utter folly,' and 'prodigal\nwaste,' and 'absolutely useless.' Jesus Christ has a great many\nstrange things in His treasure-house--widows' mites, cups of water,\nMary's broken vase--has He anything of yours? 'She hath wrought a good\nwork on Me.'\n\nII. Now, there is another lesson that I would gather from our Lord's\napologising for Mary, and that is the measure and the manner of\nChristian service.\n\n'She hath done what she could'; that is generally read as if it were\nan excuse. So it is, or at least it is a vindication of the manner and\nthe direction of Mary's expression of love and devotion. But whilst it\nis an apologia for the form, it is a high demand in regard to the\nmeasure.\n\n'She hath done what she could.' Christ would not have said that if she\nhad taken a niggardly spoonful out of the box of ointment, and\ndribbled that, in slow and half-grudging drops, on His head and feet.\nIt was because it _all_ went that it was to Him thus admirable. I\nthink it is John Foster who says, 'Power to its last particle is\nduty.' The question is not how much have I done, or given, but could I\nhave done or given more? We Protestants have indulgences of our own;\nthe guinea or the hundred guineas that we give in a certain direction,\nwe some of us seem to think, buy for us the right to do as we will\nwith all the rest. But 'she hath done what she could.' It all went.\nAnd that is the law for us Christian people, because the Christian\nlife is to be ruled by the great law of self-sacrifice, as the only\nadequate expression of our recognition of, and our being affected by,\nthe great Sacrifice that gave Himself for us.\n\n    'Give all thou canst! High Heaven rejects the lore\n    Of nicely calculated less or more.'\n\nBut whilst thus there is here a definite demand for the entire\nsurrender of ourselves and our activities to Jesus Christ, there is\nalso the wonderful vindication of the idiosyncrasy of the worker, and\nthe special manner of her gift. It was not Mary's _m\u00e9tier_ to serve at\nthe table, nor to do any practical thing. She did not know what there\nwas for her to do; but something she _must_ do. So she caught up her\nalabaster box, and without questioning herself about the act, let her\nheart have its way, and poured it out on Christ. It was the only thing\nshe could do, and she did it. It was a very useless thing. It was an\nentirely unnecessary expenditure of the perfume. There might have been\na great many practical purposes found for it, but it was her way.\n\nChrist says to each of us, Be yourselves, take circumstances,\ncapacities, opportunities, individual character, as laying down the\nlines along which yon have to travel. Do not imitate other people. Do\nnot envy other people; be yourselves, and let your love take its\nnatural expression, whatever folk round you may snarl and sneer and\ncarp and criticise. 'She hath done what she could,' and so He accepts\nthe gift.\n\nEngineers tell us that the steam-engine is a very wasteful machine,\nbecause so little of the energy is brought into actual operation. I am\nafraid that there are a great many of us Christian people like that,\ngetting so much capacity, and turning out so little work. And there\nare a great many more of us who simply pick up the kind of work that\nis popular round us, and never consult our own bent, nor follow this\nhumbly and bravely, wherever it will take us. 'She hath done what she\ncould.'\n\nIII. And now the last thought that I would gather from these words is\nas to the significance and the perpetuity of the work which Christ\naccepts.\n\n'She hath come beforehand to anoint My body to the burying.' I do not\nsuppose that such a thought was in Mary's mind when she snatched up\nher box of ointment, and poured it out on Christ's head. But it was a\nmeaning that He, in His tender pity and wise love and foresight, put\ninto it, pathetically indicating, too, how the near Cross was filling\nHis thought, even whilst He sat at the humble rustic feast in Bethany\nvillage.\n\nHe puts meaning into the service of love which He accepts. Yes, He\nalways does. For all the little bits of service that we can bring get\nworked up into the great whole, the issues of which lie far beyond\nanything that we conceive, 'Thou sowest not that body that shall be,\nbut bare grain ... and God giveth it a body as it hath pleased Him.'\nWe cast the seed into the furrows. Who can tell what the harvest is\ngoing to be? We know nothing about the great issues that may suddenly,\nor gradually, burst from, or be evolved out of, the small deeds that\nwe do. So, then, let us take care of the end, so to speak, which is\nunder our control, and that is the motive. And Jesus Christ will take\ncare of the other end that is beyond our control, and that is the\nissue. He will bring forth what seemeth to Him good, and we shall be\nas much astonished 'when we get yonder' at what has come out of what\nwe did here, as poor Mary, standing there behind Him, was when He\ntranslated her act into so much higher a meaning than she had seen in\nit.\n\n'Lord! when saw we Thee hungry and fed Thee?' We do not know what we\nare doing. We are like the Hindoo weavers that are said to weave their\nfinest webs in dark rooms; and when the shutters come down, and not\ntill then, shall we find out the meanings of our service of love.\n\nChrist makes the work perpetual as well as significant by declaring\nthat 'in the whole world this shall be preached for a memorial of\nher.' Have not 'the poor' got far more good out of Mary's box of\nointment than the three hundred pence that a few of them lost by it?\nHas it not been an inspiration to the Church ever since? 'The house\nwas filled with the odour of the ointment.' The fragrance was soon\ndissipated in the scentless air, but the deed smells sweet and\nblossoms for ever. It is perpetual in its record, perpetual in God's\nremembrance, perpetual in its results to the doer, and in its results\nin the world, though these may be indistinguishable, just as the brook\nis lost in the river and the river in the sea.\n\nBut did you ever notice that the Evangelist who records the promise of\nperpetual remembrance of the act does not tell us who did it, and that\nthe Evangelists who tell us who did it do not record the promise of\nperpetual remembrance? Never mind whether your deed is labelled with\nyour address or not, God knows to whom it belongs, and that is enough.\nAs Paul says in one of his letters, 'other my fellow-labourers also,\nwhose names are in the Book of Life.' Apparently he had forgotten the\nnames, or perhaps did not think it needful to occupy space in his\nletter with detailing them, and so makes that graceful,\nhalf-apologetic suggestion that they are inscribed on a more august\npage. The work and the worker are associated in that Book, and that is\nenough.\n\nBrethren, the question of Judas is far more fitting when asked of\nother people than of Christians. 'To what purpose is this waste?' may\nwell be said to those of you who are taking mind, and heart, and will,\ncapacity, and energy, and all life, and using it for lower purposes\nthan the service of God, and the manifestation of loving obedience to\nJesus Christ. 'Why do ye spend money for that which is not bread?' Is\nit not waste to buy disappointments at the price of a soul and of a\nlife? Why do ye spend that money thus? 'Whose image and superscription\nhath it?' Whose name is stamped upon our spirits? To whom should they\nbe rendered? Better for us to ask ourselves the question to-day about\nall the godless parts of our lives, 'To what purpose is this waste?'\nthan to have to ask it yonder! Everything but giving our whole selves\nto Jesus Christ is waste. It is not waste to lay ourselves and our\npossessions at His feet. 'He that loveth his life shall lose it, and\nhe that loseth his life for My sake, the same shall find it.'\n\n\n\nA SECRET RENDEZVOUS\n\n\n'And the first day of unleavened bread, when they killed the pastorer,\nHis disciples said unto Him, Where wilt Thou that we go and prepare\nthat Thou mayest eat the passover? 13. And He sendeth forth two of His\ndisciples, and saith unto them, Go ye into the city, and there shall\nmeet you a man bearing a pitcher of water: follow him. 14. And\nwheresoever he shall go in, say ye to the goodman of the house, The\nMaster saith, Where is the guestchamber, where I shall eat the\npassover with My disciples? 15. And he will show you a large upper\nroom furnished and prepared: there make ready for us. 16. And His\ndisciples went forth, and came into the city, and found as He had said\nunto them: and they made ready the passover.'--Mark xiv. 12-16.\n\nThis is one of the obscurer and less noticed incidents, but perhaps it\ncontains more valuable teaching than appears at first sight.\n\nThe first question is--Miracle or Plan? Does the incident mean\nsupernatural knowledge or a preconcerted token, like the provision of\nthe ass at the entry into Jerusalem? I think that there is nothing\ndecisive either way in the narrative. Perhaps the balance of\nprobability lies in favour of the latter theory. A difficulty in its\nway is that no communication seems to pass between the two disciples\nand the man by which he could know them to be the persons whom he was\nto precede to the house. There are advantages in either theory which\nthe other loses; but, on the whole, I incline to believe in a\npreconcerted signal. If we lose the supernatural, we gain a suggestion\nof prudence and human adaptation of means to ends which makes the\nstory even more startlingly real to us.\n\nBut whichever theory we adopt, the main points and lessons of the\nnarrative remain the same.\n\nI. The remarkable thing in the story is the picture it gives us of\nChrist as elaborately adopting precautions to conceal the place.\n\nThey are at Bethany. The disciples ask where the passover is to be\neaten. The easy answer would have been to tell the name of the man and\nhis house. That is not given. The deliberate round-aboutness of the\nanswer remains the same whether miracle or plan. The two go away, and\nthe others know nothing of the place. Probably the messengers did not\ncome back, but in the evening Jesus and the ten go straight to the\nhouse which only He knew.\n\nAll this secrecy is in strong contrast with His usual frank and open\nappearances.\n\nWhat is the reason? To baffle the traitor by preventing him from\nacquiring previous knowledge of the place. He was watching for some\nquiet hour in Jerusalem to take Jesus. So Christ does not eat the\npassover at the house of any well-known disciple who had a house in\nJerusalem, but goes to some man unknown to the Apostolic circle, and\ntakes steps to prevent the place being known beforehand.\n\nAll this looks like the ordinary precautions which a man who knew of\nthe plots against him would take, and might mean simply a wish to save\nhis life. But is that the whole explanation? _Why_ did He wish to\nbaffle the traitor?\n\n(a) Because of His desire to eat the passover with the disciples. His\nloving sympathy.\n\n(b) Because of His desire to found the new rite of His kingdom.\n\n(c) Because of His desire to bring His death into immediate connection\nwith the Paschal sacrifice. There was no reason of a selfish kind, no\nshrinking from death itself.\n\nThe fact that such precautions only meet us here, and that they stand\nin strongest contrast with the rest of His conduct, emphasises the\npurely voluntary nature of His death: how He _chose_ to be betrayed,\ntaken, and to die. They suggest the same thought as do the staggering\nback of His would-be captors in Gethsemane, at His majestic word, 'I\nam He.... Let these go their way.' The narrative sets Him forth as the\nLord of all circumstances, as free, and arranging all events.\n\nJudas, the priests, Pilate, the soldiers, were swept by a power which\nthey did not know to deeds which they did not understand. The Lord of\nall gives Himself up in royal freedom to the death to which nothing\ndragged Him but His own love.\n\nSuch seem to be the lessons of this narrative in so far as it bears on\nour Lord's own thoughts and feelings.\n\nII. We note also the authoritative claim which He makes.\n\nOne reading is 'my guest-chamber,' and that makes His claim even more\nemphatic; but apart from that, the language is strong in its\nexpression of a right to this unknown man's 'upper room.' Mark the\nsingular blending here, as in all His earthly life, of poverty and\ndignity--the lowliness of being obliged to a man for a room; the royal\nstyle, 'The Master saith.'\n\nSo even now there is the blending of the wonderful fact that He puts\nHimself in the position of needing anything from us, with the absolute\nauthority which He claims over us and ours.\n\nIII. The answer and blessedness of the unknown disciple.\n\n(a) Jesus knows disciples whom the other disciples know not.\n\nThis man was one of the of 'secret' disciples. There is no excuse for\nshrinking from confession of His name; but it is blessed to believe\nthat His eye sees many a 'hidden one.' He recognises their faith, and\ngives them work to do. Add the striking thought that though this man's\nname is unrecorded by the Evangelist, it is known to Christ, was\nwritten in His heart, and, to use the prophetic image, 'was graven on\nthe palms of His hands.'\n\n(b) The true blessedness is to be ready for whatever calls He may make\non us. These may sometimes be sudden and unlooked for. But the\npreparation for obeying the most sudden or exacting summons of His is\nto have our hearts in fellowship with Him.\n\n(c) The blessedness of His coming into our hearts, and accepting our\nservice.\n\nHow honoured that man felt then! how much more so as years went on!\nhow most of all now!\n\nOur greatest blessedness that He does come into the narrow room of our\nhearts: 'If any man open the door, I will sup with him.'\n\n\n\nTHE NEW PASSOVER\n\n\n'And the first day of unleavened bread, when they killed the Passover,\nthe disciples said unto Him, Where wilt Thou that we go and prepare\nthat Thou mayest eat the Passover? 13. And He sendeth forth two of His\ndisciples, and saith unto them, Go ye into the city, and there shall\nmeet you a man bearing a pitcher of water: follow him. 14. And\nwheresoever he shall go in, say ye to the goodman of the house, The\nMaster saith, Where is the guestchamber, where I shall eat the\nPassover with My disciples? 15. And he will shew you a large upper\nroom furnished and prepared: there make ready for us. 16. And His\ndisciples went forth, and came into the city, and found as He had said\nunto them: and they made ready the Passover. 17. And in the evening He\ncometh with the twelve. 18. And as they sat and did eat, Jesus said,\nVerily I say unto you, One of you which eateth with Me shall betray\nMe. 19. And they began to be sorrowful, and to say unto Him one by\none, Is it I? and another said, Is it I? 20. And He answered and said\nunto them, It is one of the twelve, that dippeth with Me in the dish.\n21. The Son of Man indeed goeth, as it is written of Him: but woe to\nthat man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! good were it for that man\nif he had never been born. 22. And as they did eat, Jesus took bread,\nand blessed, and brake it, and gave to them, and said, Take, eat: this\nis My body. 23. And He took the cup, and when He had given thanks, He\ngave it to them: and they all drank of it. 24. And He said unto them,\nThis is My blood of the new testament, which is shed for many. 25.\nVerily I say unto you, I will drink no more of the fruit of the vine,\nuntil that day that I drink it new in the kingdom of God. 26. And when\nthey had sung an hymn, they went out into the mount of Olives.'--Mark\nxiv. 12-26.\n\nThis passage falls into three sections--the secret preparation for the\nPassover (verses 12-17), the sad announcement of the betrayer (verses\n18-21), and the institution of the Lord's Supper (verses 22-26). It\nmay be interesting to notice that in the two former of these Mark's\naccount approximates to Luke's, while in the third he is nearer\nMatthew's. A comparison of the three accounts, noting the slight, but\noften significant, variations, should be made. Nothing in the Gospels\nis trivial. 'The dust of that land is gold.'\n\nI. The secret preparation for the Passover. The three Evangelists all\ngive the disciples' question, but only Luke tells us that it was in\nanswer to our Lord's command to Peter and John to go and prepare the\nPassover. They very naturally said 'Where?' as they were all strangers\nin Jerusalem. Matthew may not have known of our Lord's initiative; but\nif Mark were, as he is, with apparent correctness, said to have been,\nPeter's mouthpiece in his Gospel, the reticence as to the prominence\nof that Apostle is natural, and explains the omission of all but the\nbare fact of the despatch of the two. The curiously roundabout way in\nwhich they are directed to the 'upper room' is only explicable on the\nsupposition that it was intended to keep them in the dark till the\nlast moment, so that no hint might leak from them to Judas. Whether\nthe token of the man with the waterpot was a preconcerted signal or an\ninstance of our Lord's supernatural knowledge and sovereign sway, his\nemployment as a silent and probably unconscious guide testifies to\nChrist's wish for that last hour to be undisturbed. A man carrying a\nwater-pot, which was woman's special task, would be a conspicuous\nfigure even in the festival crowds. The message to the householder\nimplies that he recognised 'the Master' as his Master, and was ready\nto give up at His requisition even the chamber which he had prepared\nfor his own family celebration of the feast.\n\nThus instructed, the two trusted Apostles left Bethany, early in the\nday, without a clue of their destination reaching Judas's hungry\nwatchfulness. Evidently they did not return, and in the evening Jesus\nled the others straight to the place. Mark says that He came 'with the\ntwelve'; but he does not mean thereby to specify the number, but to\ndefine the class, of His attendants.\n\nEach figure in this preparatory scene yields important lessons. Our\nLord's earnest desire to secure that still hour before pushing out\ninto the storm speaks pathetically of His felt need of companionship\nand strengthening, as well as of His self-forgetting purpose to help\nHis handful of bewildered followers and His human longing to live in\nfaithful memories. His careful arrangements bring vividly into sight\nthe limitations of His manhood, in that He, 'by whom all things\nconsist,' had to contrive and plan in order to baffle for a moment His\npursuers. And, side by side with the lowliness, as ever, is the\nmajesty; for while He stoops to arrange, He sees with superhuman\ncertitude what will happen, moves unconscious feet with secret and\nsovereign sway, and in royal tones claims possession of His servant's\npossessions.\n\nThe two messengers, sent out with instructions which would only guide\nthem half-way to their destination, and obliged, if they were to move\nat all, to trust absolutely to His knowledge, present specimens of the\nobedience still required. He sends us out still on a road full of\nsharp turnings round which we cannot see. We get light enough for the\nfirst stage; and when it is traversed, the second will be plainer.\n\nThe man with the water-pot reminds us how little we may be aware of\nthe Hand which guides us, or of our uses in His plans. 'I girded thee,\nthough thou hast not known Me,'--how little the poor water-bearer knew\nwho were following, or dreamed that he and his load would be\nremembered for ever!\n\nThe householder responded at once, and gladly, to the authoritative\nmessage, which does not ask a favour, but demands a right. Probably he\nhad intended to celebrate the Passover with his own family, in the\nlarge chamber on the roof, with the cool evening air about it, and the\nmoonlight sleeping around. But he gladly gives it up. Are we as ready\nto surrender our cherished possessions for His use?\n\nII. The sad announcement of the traitor (verses 18-21). As the Revised\nVersion indicates more clearly than the Authorised, the purport of the\nannouncement was not merely that the betrayer was an Apostle, but that\nhe was to be known by his dipping his hand into the common dish at the\nsame moment as our Lord. The prophetic psalm would have been\nabundantly fulfilled though Judas's fingers had never touched\nChrist's; but the minute accomplishment should teach us that Jewish\nprophecy was the voice of divine foreknowledge, and embraced small\ndetails as well as large tendencies. Many hands dipped with Christ's,\nand so the sign was not unmistakably indicative, and hence was\nprivately supplemented, as John tells us, by the giving of 'the sop.'\nThe uncertainty as to the indication given by the token is reflected\nby the reiterated questions of the Apostles, which, in the Greek, are\ncast in a form that anticipates a negative answer: 'Surely not I?'\nMark omits the audacious hypocrisy of Judas's question in the same\nform, and Christ's curt, sad answer which Matthew gives. His brief and\nvivid sketch is meant to fix attention on the unanimous shuddering\nhorror of these faithful hearts at the thought that they could be thus\nguilty--a horror which was not the child of presumptuous\nself-confidence, but of hearty, honest love. They thought it\nimpossible, as they felt the throbbing of their own hearts--and\nyet--and yet--might it not be? As they probed their hearts deeper,\nthey became dimly aware of dark gulfs of possible unfaithfulness half\nvisible there, and so betook themselves to their Master, and\nstrengthened their loyalty by the question, which breathed at once\ndetestation of the treason and humble distrust of themselves. It is\nwell to feel and speak the strong recoil from sin of a heart loyal to\nJesus. It is better to recognise the sleeping snakes, the\npossibilities of evil in ourselves, and to take to Christ our\nignorance and self-distrust. It is wiser to cry 'Is it I?' than to\nboast, 'Although all shall be offended, yet will not I.' 'Hold Thou me\nup, and I shall be safe.'\n\nOur Lord answers the questions by a still more emphatic repetition of\nthe distinctive mark, and then, in verse 21, speaks deep words of\nmingled pathos, dignity, and submission. The voluntariness of His\ndeath, and its uniqueness as His own act of return to His eternal\nhome, are contained in that majestic 'goeth,' which asserts the\nimpotence of the betrayer and his employers, without the Lord's own\nconsent. On the other hand, the necessity to which He willingly bowed\nis set forth in that 'as it is written of Him.' And what sadness and\nlofty consciousness of His own sacred personality and judicial\nauthority are blended in the awful sentence on the traitor! What was\nHe that treachery to Him should be a crime so transcendent? What right\nhad He thus calmly to pronounce condemnation? Did He see into the\nfuture? Is it the voice of a Divine Judge, or of a man judging in his\nown cause, which speaks this passionless sentence? Surely none of His\nsayings are more fully charged with His claims to pre-existence,\ndivinity, and judicial authority, than this which He spoke at the very\nmoment when the traitor's plot was on the verge of success.\n\nIII. The institution of the Lord's Supper (verses 22-26). Mark's\naccount is the briefest of the three, and his version of Christ's\nwords the most compressed. It omits the affecting 'Do this for\nremembering Me,' which is pre-supposed by the very act of instituting\nthe ordinance, since it is nothing if not memorial; and it makes\nprominent two things--the significance of the elements, and the\ncommand to partake of them. To these must be added Christ's attitude\nin 'blessing' the bread and cup, and His distribution of them among\nthe disciples. The Passover was to Israel the commemoration of their\nredemption from captivity and their birth as a nation. Jesus puts\naside this divinely appointed and venerable festival to set in its\nstead the remembrance of Himself. That night, 'to be much remembered\nof the children of Israel,' is to be forgotten, and come no more into\nthe number of the months; and its empty place is to be filled by the\nmemory of the hours then passing. Surely His act was either arrogance\nor the calm consciousness of the unique significance and power of His\ndeath. Think of any mere teacher or prophet doing the like! The world\nwould meet the preposterous claim implied with deserved and\ninextinguishable laughter. Why does it not do so with Christ's act?\n\nChrist's view of His death is written unmistakably on the Lord's\nSupper. It is not merely that He wishes _it_ rather than His life, His\nmiracles, or words, to be kept in thankful remembrance, but that He\ndesires one aspect of it to be held high and clear above all others.\nHe is the true 'Passover Lamb,' whose shed and sprinkled blood\nestablishes new bonds of amity and new relations, with tender and\nwonderful reciprocal obligations, between God and the 'many' who truly\npartake of that sacrifice. The key-words of Judaism--'sacrifice,'\n'covenant,' 'sprinkling with blood'--are taken over into Christianity,\nand the ideas they represent are set in its centre, to be cherished as\nits life. The Lord's Supper is the conclusive answer to the allegation\nthat Christ did not teach the sacrificial character and atoning power\nof His death. What, then, did He teach when He said, 'This is My blood\nof the covenant, which is shed for many'?\n\nThe Passover was a family festival, and that characteristic passes\nover to the Lord's Supper. Christ is not only the food on which we\nfeed, but the Head of the family and distributor of the banquet. He is\nthe feast and the Governor of the feast, and all who sit at that table\nare 'brethren.' One life is in them all, and they are one as partakers\nof One.\n\nThe Lord's Supper is a visible symbol of the Christian life, which\nshould not only be all lived in remembrance of Him, but consists in\npartaking by faith of His life, and incorporating it in ours, until we\ncome to the measure of perfect men, which, in one aspect, we reach\nwhen we can say, 'I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.'\n\nThere is a prophetic element, as well as a commemorative and symbolic,\nin the Lord's Supper, which is prominent in Christ's closing words. He\ndoes not partake of the symbols which He gives; but there comes a\ntime, in that perfected form of the kingdom, when perfect love shall\nmake all the citizens perfectly conformed to the perfect will of God.\nThen, whatsoever associations of joy, of invigoration, of festal\nfellowship, clustered round the wine-cup here, shall be heightened,\npurified, and perpetuated in the calm raptures of the heavenly feast,\nin which He will be Partaker, as well as Giver and Food. 'Thou shalt\nmake them drink of the river of Thy pleasures.' The King's lips will\ntouch the golden cup filled with un-foaming wine, ere He commends it\nto His guests. And from that feast they will 'go no more out,' neither\nshall the triumphant music of its great 'hymn' be followed by any\nOlivet or Gethsemane, or any denial, or any Calvary; but there shall\nbe 'no more sorrow, nor sin, nor death'; for 'the former things are\npassed away,' and He has made 'all things new.'\n\n\n\n'IS IT I?'\n\n\n'Is it I?'--Mark xiv. 19\n\nThe scene shows that Judas had not as yet drawn any suspicion on\nhimself.\n\nHere the Apostles seem to be higher than their ordinary stature; for\nthey do not take to questioning one another, or even to protest, 'No!'\nbut to questioning Christ.\n\nI. The solemn prophecy.\n\nIt seems strange at first sight that our Lord should have introduced\nsuch thoughts then, disturbing the sweet repose of that hallowed hour.\nBut the terrible fact of the betrayal was naturally suggested by the\nemblems of His death, and still more by the very confiding familiarity\nof that hour. His household were gathered around Him, and the more\nclose and confidential the intercourse, the bitterer that thought to\nHim, that one of the little band was soon to play the traitor. It is\nthe cry of His wounded love, the wail of His unrequited affection,\nand, so regarded, is infinitely touching. It is an instance of that\nsad insight into man's heart which in His divinity He possessed. What\na fountain of sorrow for His manhood was that knowledge! how it\nincreases the pathos of His tenderness! Not only did He read hearts as\nthey thought and felt in the present, but He read their future with\nmore than a prophet's insight. He saw how many buds of promise would\nshrivel, how many would go away and walk no more with Him.'\n\nThat solemn prophecy may well be pondered by all Christian assemblies,\nand specially when gathered for the observance of the Lord's Supper.\nPerhaps never since that first institution has a community met to\ncelebrate it without Him who 'walks amid the candlesticks,' with eyes\nas a flame of fire marking a Judas among the disciples. There is, I\nthink, no doubt that Judas partook of the Lord's Supper. But be that\nas it may, he was among the number, and our Lord knew him to be 'the\ntraitor.'\n\nIn its essence Judas's sin can be repeated still, and the thought of\nthat possibility may well mingle with the grateful and adoring\ncontemplations suitable to the act of partaking of the Lord's Supper.\nIn the hour of holiest Christian emotion the thought that I may betray\nthe Lord who has died for me will be especially hateful, and to\nremember the possibility then will do much to prevent its ever\nbecoming a reality.\n\nII. The self-distrustful question, 'Is it I?'\n\nIt suggests that the possibilities of the darkest sin are in each of\nus, and especially, that the sin of treason towards Christ is in each\nof us.\n\nThink generally of the awful possibilities of sin in every soul.\n\nAll sin has one root, so it is capable of passing from one form to\nanother as light, heat, and motion do, or like certain diseases that\nare Protean in their forms. One sin is apt to draw others after it.\n'None shall want her mate.' Wild beasts of 'the desert' meet with wild\nbeasts of 'the islands.' Sins are gregarious, as it were; they 'hunt\nin couples.' 'Then goeth he, and taketh with him seven other spirits\nmore wicked than himself.'\n\nThe roots of all sin are in each. Men may think that they are\nprotected from certain forms of sin by temperament, but identity of\nnature is deeper than varieties of temperament. The greatest sins are\ncommitted by yielding to very common motives. Love of money is not a\nrare feeling, but it led Judas to betray Jesus. Anger is thought to be\nscarcely a sin at all, but it often moves an arm to murder.\n\nTemptations to each sin are round us all. We walk in a tainted\natmosphere.\n\nThere is progress in evil. No man reaches the extreme of depravity at\na bound. Judas's treachery was of slow growth.\n\nSo still there is the constant operation and pressure of forces and\ntendencies drawing us away from Jesus Christ. We, every one of us,\nknow that, if we allowed our nature to have its way, we should leave\nHim and 'make shipwreck of faith and of a good conscience.' The forms\nin which we might do it might vary, but do it we should. We are like a\nman desperately clutching some rocky projection on the face of a\nprecipice, who knows that if once he lets go, he will be dashed to\npieces. 'There goes John Bradford, but for the grace of God!' But for\nthis same restraining grace, to what depths might we not sink? So, in\nall Christian hearts there should be profound consciousness of their\nown weakness. The man 'who fears no fall' is sure to have one. It is\nperilous to march through an enemy's country in loose order, without\nscouts and rearguard. Rigorous control is ever necessary. Brotherly\njudgment, too, of others should result from our consciousness of\nweakness. Examples of others falling are not to make us say cynically,\n'We are all alike,' but to set us to think humbly of ourselves, and to\nsupplicate divine keeping,' Lord, save _me_, or I perish!'\n\nIII. The safety of the self-distrustful.\n\nWhen the consciousness of possible falling is brought home to us, we\nshall carry, if we are wise, all our doubts as to ourselves to Jesus.\nThere is safety in asking Him, 'Is it I?' To bare our inmost selves\nbefore Him, and not to shrink, even if that piercing gaze lights on\nhidden meannesses and incipient treachery, may be painful, but is\nhealing. He will keep us from yielding to the temptation of which we\nare aware, and which we tell frankly to Him. The lowly sense of our\nown liability to fall, if it drives us closer to Him, will make it\ncertain that we shall not fall.\n\nWhile the other disciples asked 'Is it I?' John asked 'Who is it?' The\ndisciple who leaned on Christ's bosom was bathed in such a\nconsciousness of Christ's love that treason against it was impossible.\nHe, alone of the Evangelists, records his question, and he tells us\nthat he put it, 'leaning back as he was, on Jesus's breast.' For the\npurpose of whispering his interrogation, he changed his attitude for a\nmoment so as to press still closer to Jesus. How could one who was\nthus nestling nearer to that heart be the betrayer? The consciousness\nof Christ's love, accompanied with the effort to draw closer to Him,\nis our surest defence against every temptation to faithlessness or\nbetrayal of Him.\n\nAny other fancied ground of security is deceptive, and will sooner or\nlater crumble beneath our deceived feet. On this very occasion, Peter\nbuilt a towering fabric of profession of unalterable fidelity on such\nshifting ground, and saw it collapse into ruin in a few hours. Let us\nprofit by the lesson!\n\nThat wholesome consciousness of our weakness need not shade with\nsadness the hours of communion, but it may well help us to turn them\nto their highest use in making them occasions for lowlier\nself-distrust and closer cleaving to Him. If we thus use our sense of\nweakness, the sweet security will enter our souls that belongs to\nthose who have trusted in the great promise: 'He shall not fall, for\nGod Is able to make him stand.' The blessed ones who are kept from\nfalling and 'presented faultless before the presence of His glory,'\nwill hear with wonder the voice of the Judge ascribing to them deeds\nof service to Him of which they had not been conscious, and will have\nto ask once more the old question, but with a new meaning: 'Lord, is\nit I? when saw we Thee an hungered, and fed Thee?'\n\n\n\n'STRONG CRYING AND TEARS'\n\n\n'And they came to a place which was named Gethsemane: and He saith to\nHis disciples, Sit ye here, while I shall pray. 33. And He taketh with\nHim Peter and James and John, and began to be sore amazed, and to be\nvery heavy; 34. And saith onto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful\nunto death: tarry ye here, and watch. 35. And He went forward a\nlittle, and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible,\nthe hour might pass from Him. 36. And He said, Abba, Father, all\nthings are possible unto Thee; take away this cup from Me:\nnevertheless not what I will, but what Thou wilt. 37. And He cometh,\nand findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, Simon, sleepest thou!\ncouldest not thou watch one hour? 38. Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter\ninto temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak. 39.\nAnd again He went away, and prayed, and spake the same words. 40. And\nwhen He returned, He found them asleep again, (for their eyes were\nheavy,) neither wist they what to answer Him. 41. And He cometh the\nthird time, and saith unto them, Sleep on now, and take your rest, it\nis enough, the hour is come; behold, the Son of Man is betrayed into\nthe hands of sinners. 42. Rise up, let us go; lo, he that betrayeth Me\nis at hand.--Mark xiv. 32-42.\n\nThe three who saw Christ's agony in Gethsemane were so little affected\nthat they slept. We have to beware of being so little affected that we\nspeculate and seek to analyse rather than to bow adoringly before that\nmysterious and heart-subduing sight. Let us remember that the place is\n'holy ground.' It was meant that we should look on the Christ who\nprayed 'with strong crying and tears,' else the three sleepers would\nnot have accompanied Him so far; but it was meant that our gaze should\nbe reverent and from a distance, else they would have gone with Him\ninto the shadow of the olives.\n\n'Gethsemane' means 'an oil-press.' It was an enclosed piece of ground,\naccording to Matthew and Mark; a garden, according to John. Jesus, by\nsome means, had access to it, and had 'oft-times resorted thither with\nHis disciples.' To this familiar spot, with its many happy\nassociations, Jesus led the disciples, who would simply expect to pass\nthe night there, as many Passover visitors were accustomed to bivouac\nin the open air.\n\nThe triumphant tone of spirit which animated His assuring words to His\ndisciples, 'I have overcome the world,' changed as they passed through\nthe moonlight down to the valley, and when they reached the garden\ndeep gloom lay upon Him. His agitation is pathetically and most\nnaturally indicated by the conflict of feeling as to companionship. He\nleaves the other disciples at the entrance, for He would fain be alone\nin His prayer. Then, a moment after, He bids the three, who had been\non the Mount of Transfiguration and with Him at many other special\ntimes, accompany Him into the recesses of the garden. But again need\nof solitude overcomes longing for companionship, and He bids them stay\nwhere they were, while He plunges still further into the shadow. How\nhuman it is! How well all of us, who have been down into the depths of\nsorrow, know the drawing of these two opposite longings!\n\nScripture seldom undertakes to tell Christ's emotions. Still seldomer\ndoes He speak of them. But at this tremendous hour the veil is lifted\nby one corner, and He Himself is fain to relieve His bursting heart by\npathetic self-revelation, which is in fact an appeal to the three for\nsympathy, as well as an evidence of His sharing the common need of\nlightening the burdened spirit by speech. Mark's description of\nChrist's feelings lays stress first on their beginning, and then on\ntheir nature as being astonishment and anguish. A wave of emotion\nswept over Him, and was in marked contrast with His previous\ndemeanour.\n\nThe three had never seen their calm Master so moved. We feel that such\nagitation is profoundly unlike the serenity of the rest of His life,\nand especially remarkable if contrasted with the tone of John's\naccount of His discourse in the upper room; and, if we are wise, we\nshall gaze on that picture drawn for us by Mark with reverent\ngratitude, and feel that we look at something more sacred than human\ntrembling at the thought of death.\n\nOur Lord's own infinitely touching words heighten the impression of\nthe Evangelist's 'My soul is exceeding sorrowful,' or, as the word\nliterally means, 'ringed round with sorrow.' A dark orb of distress\nencompassed Him, and there was nowhere a break in the gloom which shut\nHim in. And this is He who, but an hour before, had bequeathed His\n'joy' to His servants, and had bidden them 'be of good cheer,' since\nHe had 'conquered the world.'\n\nDare we ask what were the elements of that all-enveloping horror of\ngreat darkness? Reverently we may. That astonishment and distress no\ndoubt were partly due to the recoil of flesh from death. But if that\nwas their sole cause, Jesus has been surpassed in heroism, not only by\nmany a martyr who drew his strength from Him, but by many a rude\nsoldier and by many a criminal. No! The waters of the baptism with\nwhich He was baptized had other sources than that, though it poured a\ntributary stream into them.\n\nWe shall not understand Gethsemane at all, nor will it touch our\nhearts and wills as it is meant to do, unless, as we look, we say in\nadoring wonder, 'The Lord hath made to meet on Him the iniquity of us\nall.' It was the weight of the world's sin which He took on Him by\nwilling identification of Himself with men, that pressed Him to the\nground. Nothing else than the atoning character of Christ's sufferings\nexplains so far as it can be explained, the agony which we are\npermitted to behold afar off.\n\nHow nearly that agony was fatal is taught us by His own word 'unto\ndeath,' A little more, and He would have died. Can we retain reverence\nfor Jesus as a perfect and pattern man, in view of His paroxysm of\nanguish in Gethsemane, if we refuse to accept that explanation? Truly\nwas the place named 'The Olive-press,' for in it His whole being was\nas if in the press, and another turn of the screw would have crushed\nHim.\n\nDarkness ringed Him round, but there was a rift in it right overhead.\nPrayer was His refuge, as it must be ours. The soul that can cry,\n'Abba, Father!' does not walk in unbroken night. His example teaches\nus what our own sorrows should also teach us--to betake ourselves to\nprayer when the spirit is desolate. In that wonderful prayer we\nreverently note three things: there is unbroken consciousness of the\nFather's love; there is the instinctive recoil of flesh and the\nsensitive nature from the suffering imposed; and there is the absolute\nsubmission of the will, which silences the remonstrance of flesh.\nWhatever the weight laid on Jesus by His bearing of the sins of the\nworld, it did not take from Him the sense of sonship. But, on the\nother hand, that sense did not take from Him the consciousness that\nthe world's sin lay upon Him. In like manner His cry on the Cross\nmysteriously blended the sense of communion with God and of\nabandonment by God. Into these depths we see but a little way, and\nadoration is better than speculation.\n\nJesus shrank from 'this cup,' in which so many bitter ingredients\nbesides death were mingled, such as treachery, desertion, mocking,\nrejection, exposure to 'the contradiction of sinners.' There was no\nfailure of purpose in that recoil, for the cry for exemption was\nimmediately followed by complete submission to the Father's will. No\nperturbation in the lower nature ever caused His fixed resolve to\nwaver. The needle always pointed to the pole, however the ship might\npitch and roll. A prayer in which 'remove this from me' is followed by\nthat yielding 'nevertheless' is always heard. Christ's was heard, for\ncalmness came back, and His flesh was stilled and made ready for the\nsacrifice.\n\nSo He could rejoin the three, in whose sympathy and watchfulness He\nhad trusted--and they all were asleep! Surely that was one ingredient\nof bitterness in His cup. We wonder at their insensibility; and how\nthey must have wondered at it too, when after years taught them what\nthey had lost, and how faithless they had been! Think of men who could\nhave seen and heard that scene, which has drawn the worshipping regard\nof the world ever since, missing it all because they fell asleep! They\nhad kept awake long enough to see Him fall on the ground and to hear\nHis prayer, but, worn out by a long day of emotion and sorrow, they\nslept.\n\nJesus was probably rapt in prayer for a considerable time, perhaps for\na literal 'hour.' He was specially touched by Peter's failure, so\nsadly contrasted with his confident professions in the upper room; but\nno word of blame escaped Him. Rather He warned them of swift-coming\ntemptation, which they could only overcome by watchfulness and prayer.\nIt was indeed near, for the soldiers would burst in, before many\nminutes had passed, polluting the moonlight with their torches and\ndisturbing the quiet night with their shouts. What gracious allowance\nfor their weakness and loving recognition of the disciples' imperfect\ngood lie in His words, which are at once an excuse for their fault and\nan enforcement of His command to watch and pray! 'The flesh is weak,'\nand hinders the willing spirit from doing what it wills. It was an\napology for the slumber of the three; it is a merciful statement of\nthe condition under which all discipleship has to be carried on. 'He\nknoweth our frame.' Therefore we all need to watch and pray, since\nonly by such means can weak flesh be strengthened and strong flesh\nweakened, or the spirit preserved in willingness.\n\nThe words were not spoken in reference to Himself, but in a measure\nwere true of Him. His second withdrawal for prayer seems to witness\nthat the victory won by the first supplication was not permanent.\nAgain the anguish swept over His spirit in another foaming breaker,\nand again He sought solitude, and again He found tranquillity--and\nagain returned to find the disciples asleep. 'They knew not what to\nanswer Him' in extenuation of their renewed dereliction.\n\nYet a third time the struggle was renewed. And after that, He had no\nneed to return to the seclusion, where He had fought, and now had\nconclusively conquered by prayer and submission. We too may, by the\nsame means, win partial victories over self, which may be interrupted\nby uprisings of flesh; but let us persevere. Twice Jesus' calm was\nbroken by recrudescence of horror and shrinking; the third time it\ncame back, to abide through all the trying scenes of the passion, but\nfor that one cry on the Cross, 'Why hast Thou forsaken Me?' So it may\nbe with us.\n\nThe last words to the three have given commentators much trouble.\n'Sleep on now, and take your rest,' is not so much irony as 'spoken\nwith a kind of permissive force, and in tones in which merciful\nreproach was blended with calm resignation.' So far as He was\nconcerned, there was no reason for their waking. But they had lost an\nopportunity, never to return, of helping Him in His hour of deepest\nagony. He needed them no more. And do not we in like manner often lose\nthe brightest opportunities of service by untimely slumber of soul,\nand is not 'the irrevocable past' saying to many of us, 'Sleep on now\nsince you can no more do what you have let slip from your drowsy\nhands'?\n\n'It is enough' is obscure, but probably refers to the disciples'\nsleep, and prepares for the transition to the next words, which summon\nthem to arise, not to help Him by watching, but to meet the traitor.\nThey had slept long enough, He sadly says. That which will effectually\nend their sleepiness is at hand. How completely our Lord had regained\nHis calm superiority to the horror which had shaken Him is witnessed\nby that majestic 'Let us be going.' He will go out to meet the\ntraitor, and, after one flash of power, which smote the soldiers to\nthe ground, will yield Himself to the hands of sinners.\n\nThe Man who lay prone in anguish beneath the olive-trees comes forth\nin serene tranquillity, and gives Himself up to the death for us all.\nHis agony was endured for us, and needs for its explanation the fact\nthat it was so. His victory through prayer was for us, that we too\nmight conquer by the same weapons. His voluntary surrender was for us,\nthat 'by His stripes we might be healed.' Surely we shall not sleep,\nas did these others, but, moved by His sorrows and animated by His\nvictory, watch and pray that we may share in the virtue of His\nsufferings and imitate the example of His submission.\n\n\n\nTHE SLEEPING APOSTLE\n\n\n'Simon, sleepest thou!'--Mark xiv. 37\n\nIt is a very old Christian tradition that this Gospel is in some sense\nthe Apostle Peter's. There are not many features in the Gospel itself\nwhich can be relied on as confirming this idea. Perhaps one such may\nbe found in this plaintive remonstrance, which is only preserved for\nus here. Matthew's Gospel, indeed, tells us that the rebuke was\naddressed to Peter, but blunts the sharp point of it as directed to\nhim, by throwing it into the plural, as if spoken to all the three\nslumberers: 'What, could ye not watch with Me one hour?' To Matthew,\nthe special direction of the words was unimportant, but Peter could\nnever forget how the Master had come out from the shadow of the olives\nto him lying there in the moonlight, and stood before him worn with\nHis solitary agony, and in a voice yet tremulous from His awful\nconflict, had said to _him_, so lately loud in his professions of\nfidelity, 'Sleepest _thou_?'\n\nIt was but an hour or two since he had been saying, and meaning, 'I\nwill lay down my life for Thy sake,' and this was what all that\nfervour had come to. No wonder if there is almost a tone of surprise\ndiscernible in our Lord's word, as if He who 'marvelled at the\nunbelief' of those who were not His followers, marvelled still more at\nthe imperfect sympathy of those who were, and marvelled most of all at\nsuch a sudden ebb of such a flood of devotion. Surprise and sorrow,\nthe pain of a loving heart thrown back upon itself, the sharp pang of\nfeeling how much less one is loved than one loves, the pleading with\nHis forgetful servant, rebuke without anger, all breathe through the\nquestion, so pathetic in its simplicity, so powerful to bow in\ncontrition by reason of its very gentleness and self-restraint.\n\nThe record of this Evangelist proves how deep it sank into the\nimpulsive, loving heart of the apostle, and yet the denials in the\nhigh priest's palace, which followed so soon, show how much less power\nit had on him on the day when it was spoken, than it gained as he\nlooked back on it through the long vista of years that had passed,\nwhen he told the story to Mark.\n\nThe first lesson to be gathered from these words is drawn from the\nname by which our Lord here addresses the apostle: '_Simon_, sleepest\nthou?'\n\nNow the usage of Mark's Gospel in reference to this apostle's name is\nremarkably uniform and precise. Both his names occur in Mark's\ncatalogue of the Apostles: 'Simon he surnamed Peter.' He is never\ncalled by both again, but before that point he is always Simon, and\nafter it he is always Peter, except in this verse. The other\nEvangelists show similar purpose, for the most part, in their\ninterchange of the names. Luke, for instance, always calls him Simon\nup to the same point as Mark, except once where he uses the form\n'Simon Peter,' and thereafter always Peter, except in Christ's solemn\nwarning, 'Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have you,' and in the\nreport of the tidings that met the disciples on their return from\nEmmaus, 'The Lord hath appeared to Simon.' So Matthew calls him Simon\nin the story of the first miraculous draught of fishes, and in the\ncatalogue of Apostles, and afterwards uniformly Peter, except in\nChrist's answer to the apostle's great confession, where He names him\n'Simon Bar Jona,' in order, as would appear, to bring into more solemn\nrelief the significance of the immediately following words, 'Thou art\nPeter.' In John's Gospel, again, we find the two forms 'Simon Peter'\nand the simple 'Peter' used throughout with almost equal frequency,\nwhile 'Simon' is only employed at the very beginning, and in the\nheart-piercing triple question at the end, 'Simon, son of Jonas,\nlovest thou Me?'\n\nThe conclusion seems a fair one from these details that, on the whole,\nthe name Simon brings into prominence the natural unrenewed humanity,\nand the name Peter suggests the Apostolic office, the bold confessor,\nthe impulsive, warm-hearted lover and follower of the Lord. And it is\nworth noticing that, with one exception, the instances in which he is\ncalled by his former name, after his designation to the apostolate,\noccur in words addressed to him by our Lord.\n\nHe had given the name, and surely His withdrawal of it was meant to be\nsignificant, and must have struck with boding, rebuking emphasis on\nthe ear and conscience of the apostle. 'Simon, Simon, Satan hath\ndesired to have you': 'Remember thy human weakness, and in the sore\nconflict that is before thee, trust not to thine own power.' 'Simon,\nsleepest thou?' 'Can I call thee Peter now, when thou hast not cared\nfor My sorrow enough to wake while I wrestled? Is this thy fervid\nlove?' 'Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me?' 'Thou wast Peter because\nthou didst confess Me; thou hast fallen back to thine old level by\ndenying Me. It is not enough that in secret I should have restored\nthee to My love. Here before thy brethren, thou must win back thy\nforfeited name and place by a confession as open as the denial, and\nthrice repeated like it. Once thou hast answered, but still thou art\n\"Simon.\" Twice thou hast answered, but not yet can I call thee\n\"Peter.\" Thrice thou hast answered, by each reply effacing a former\ndenial, and now I ask no more. Take back thine office; henceforth thou\nshalt be called \"Cephas\" as before.'\n\nAnd so it was. In the Acts of the Apostles, and in Paul's letters,\n'Peter' or 'Cephas' entirely obliterates 'Simon.' Only for ease in\nfinding him, the messengers of Cornelius are to ask for him in Joppa\nby the name by which he would be known outside the Church, and his old\ncompanion James begins his speech to the council at Jerusalem by\nreferring with approbation to what 'Simeon' had said, as if he liked\nto use the old name, that brought back memories of the far-off days in\nGalilee, before they had known the Master.\n\nVery touching, too, is it to notice how the apostle himself, while\nusing the name by which he was best known in the Church, in the\nintroduction to his first Epistle, calls himself 'Simon Peter' in his\nsecond, as if to the end he felt that the old nature clung to him, and\nwas not yet, 'so long as he was in this tabernacle,' wholly subdued\nunder the dominion of the better self, which his Master had breathed\ninto him.\n\nSo we see that a bit of biography and an illustration of a large truth\nare wrapped up for us in so small a matter as the apparently\nfortuitous use of one or other of these names. I do not suppose that\nin every instance where either of them occur, we can explain their\noccurrence by a reference to such thoughts. But still there is an\nunmistakable propriety in several instances in the employment of one\nrather than the other, and we may fairly suggest the lesson as put\nhero in a picturesque form, which Paul gives us in definite words,\n'The flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the\nflesh.' The better and the worse nature contend in all Christian\nsouls, or, as our Lord says with such merciful leniency in this very\ncontext, 'The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.' However real\nand deep the change which passes over us when 'Christ is formed in\nus,' it is only by degrees that the transformation spreads through our\nbeing. The renewing process follows upon the bestowment of the new\nlife, and works from its deep inward centre outwards and upwards to\nthe circumference and surface of our being, on condition of our own\nconstant diligence and conflict.\n\nTrue, 'If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature'; but also, and\nprecisely because he is, therefore the daily and hourly exhortation\nis, 'Put on the new man.' The leaven is buried in the dough, and must\nbe well kneaded up with it if the whole is to be leavened. Peter is\nstill Simon, and sometimes seems to be so completely Simon that he has\nceased to be Peter. He continues Simon Peter to his own consciousness\nto the very end, however his brethren call him. The struggle between\nthe two elements in his nature makes the undying interest of his\nstory, and brings him nearer to us than any of the other disciples\nare. We, too, have to wage the conflict between the old nature and the\nnew; for us, too, the worse part seems too often to be the stronger,\nif not the only part. The Master has often to speak to us, as if His\nmerciful all-seeing eye could discern in us nothing of our better\nselves which are in truth Himself, and has to question our love. We,\ntoo, have often to feel how little those who think best of us know\nwhat we are. But let us take heart and remember that from every fall\nit is possible to rise by penitence and secret converse with Him, and\nthat if only we remember to the end our lingering weakness, and\n'giving all diligence,' cleave to Him, 'an entrance shall be\nministered unto us abundantly into His everlasting kingdom.'\n\nWe may briefly notice, too, some other lessons from this slumbering\napostle.\n\nLet us learn, for instance, to distrust our own resolutions. An hour\nor two at the most had passed since the eager protestation, 'Though\nall should deny Thee, yet will not I. I will lay down my life for Thy\nsake.' It had been most honestly said, at the dictate of a very loving\nheart, which in its enthusiasm was over-estimating its own power of\nresistance, and taking no due account of obstacles. The very utterance\nof the rash vow made him weaker, for some of his force was expended in\nmaking it. The uncalculating, impulsive nature of the man makes him a\nfavourite with all readers, and we sympathise with him, as a true\nbrother, when we hear him blurting out his big words, followed so soon\nby such a contradiction in deeds. He is the same man all through his\nstory, always ready to push himself into dangers, always full of rash\nconfidence, which passes at once into abject fear when the dangers\nwhich he had not thought about appear.\n\nHis sleep in the garden, following close on his bold words in the\nupper chamber, is just like his eager wish to come to Christ on the\nwater, followed by his terror. He desires to be singled out from the\nothers; he desires to be beside his Master, and then as soon as he\nfeels a dash of spray on his cheek, and the heaving of that uneasy\nfloor beneath him, all his confidence collapses and he shrieks to\nChrist to save him. It is just like his thrusting himself into the\nhigh priest's palace--no safe place, and bad company for him by the\ncoal fire--and then his courage oozing out at his fingers' ends as\nsoon as a maidservant's sharp tongue questioned him. It is just like\nhis hearty welcome of the heathen converts at Antioch, and his ready\nbreaking through Jewish restrictions, and then his shrinking back into\nhis old shell again, as soon as 'certain came down from Jerusalem.'\n\nAnd in it all, he is one of ourselves. We have to learn to distrust\nall our own resolutions, and to be chary of our vows. 'Better is it\nthat thou shouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not\npay.' So, aware of our own weakness, and the flutterings of our own\nhearts, let us not mortgage the future, nor lightly say 'I will'--but\nrather let us turn our vows into prayers,\n\n              'Nor confidently say,\n  \"I never will deny Thee, Lord\"\n  But, \"Grant I never may.\"'\n\nLet us note, too, the slight value of even genuine emotion. The very\nexhaustion following on the strained emotions which these disciples\nhad been experiencing had sent them to sleep. Luke, in his\nphysician-like way, tells us this, when he says that they 'slept for\nsorrow.' We all know how some great emotion which we might have\nexpected would have held our eyes waking, lulls to slumber. Men sleep\nsoundly on the night before their execution. A widow leaves her\nhusband's deathbed as soon as he has passed away, and sleeps a\ndreamless sleep for hours. The strong current of emotion sweeps\nthrough us, and leaves us dry. Sheer exhaustion and collapse follow\nits intenser forms. And even in its milder, nothing takes so much out\nof a man as emotion. Reaction always follows, and people are in some\ndegree unfitted for sober work by it. Peter, for example, was all the\nless ready for keeping awake, and for bold confession, because of the\nvehement emotions which had agitated him in the upper chamber. We\nhave, therefore, to be chary, in our religious life, of feeding the\nflames of mere feeling. An unemotional Christianity is a very poor\nthing, and most probably a spurious and unreal thing. But a merely\nemotional Christianity is closely related to practical unholiness, and\nleads by a very short straight road to windy wordy insincerity and\nconscious hypocrisy. Emotion which is firmly based upon an intelligent\ngrasp of God's truth, and which is at once translated into action, is\ngood. But unless these two conditions be rigidly observed, it darkens\nthe understanding and enfeebles the soul.\n\nLastly, notice how much easier it is to purpose and to do great things\nthan small ones.\n\nI have little doubt that if the Roman soldiers had called on Peter to\nhave made good his boast, and to give up his life to rescue his\nMaster, he would have been ready to do it. We know that he was ready\nto fight for Him, and in fact did draw a sword and offer resistance.\nHe could die for Him, but he could not keep awake for Him. The great\nthing he could have done, the little thing he could not do.\n\nBrethren, it is far easier once in a way, by a dead lift, to screw\nourselves up to some great crisis which seems worthy of a supreme\neffort of enthusiasm and sacrifice, than it is to keep on persistently\ndoing the small monotonies of daily duty. Many a soldier will bravely\nrush to the assault in a storming-party, who would tremble in the\ntrenches. Many a martyr has gone unblenching to the stake for Christ,\nwho had found it far harder to serve Him in common duties. It is\neasier to die for Him than to watch with Him. So let us listen to His\ngentle voice, as He speaks to us, not as of old in the pauses of His\nagony, and His locks wet with the dews of the night, but bending from\nHis throne, and crowned with many crowns: 'Sleepest them? Watch and\npray, lest ye enter into temptation.'\n\n\n\nTHE CAPTIVE CHRIST AND THE CIRCLE ROUND HIM\n\n\n'And immediately, while He yet spake, cometh Judas, one of the twelve,\nand with him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief\npriests and the scribes and the elders. 44. And he that betrayed Him\nhad given them a token, saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is\nHe; take Him, and lead Him away safely. 45. And as soon as he was\ncome, he goeth straightway to Him, and saith, Master, Master; and\nkissed Him. 46. And they laid their hands on Him, and took Him. 47.\nAnd one of them that stood by drew a sword, and smote a servant of the\nhigh priest, and cut off his ear. 48. And Jesus answered and said unto\nthem, Are ye come out, as against a thief, with swords and with staves\nto take Me? 49. I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and ye\ntook Me not: but the scriptures must be fulfilled. 50. And they all\nforsook Him, and fled. 51. And there followed Him a certain young man,\nhaving a linen cloth cast about his naked body; and the young man laid\nhold on Him: 52. And he left the linen cloth, and fled from them\nnaked. 53. And they led Jesus away to the high priest: and with him\nwere assembled all the chief priests and the elders and the scribes.\n54. And Peter followed Him afar off, even into the palace of the high\npriest: and he sat with the servants, and warmed himself at the\nfire.'--Mark xiv. 43-54.\n\nA comparison of the three first Gospels in this section shows a degree\nof similarity, often verbal, which is best accounted for by supposing\nthat a common (oral?) 'Gospel,' which had become traditionally fixed\nby frequent and long repetition, underlies them all. Mark's account is\nbriefest, and grasps with sure instinct the essential points; but,\neven in his brevity, he pauses to tell of the young man who so nearly\nshared the Lord's apprehension. The canvas is narrow and crowded; but\nwe may see unity in the picture, if we regard as the central fact the\nsacrilegious seizure of Jesus, and the other incidents and persons as\ngrouped round it and Him, and reflecting various moods of men's\nfeelings towards Him.\n\nI. The avowed and hypocritical enemies of incarnate love. Again we\nhave Mark's favourite 'straightway,' so frequent in the beginning of\nthe Gospel, and occurring twice here, vividly painting both the sudden\ninburst of the crowd which Interrupted Christ's words and broke the\nholy silence of the garden, and Judas's swift kiss. He is named--the\nonly name but our Lord's in the section; and the depth of his sin is\nemphasised by adding 'one of the twelve.' He is not named in the next\nverse, but gibbeted for immortal infamy by the designation, 'he that\nbetrayed Him.' There is no dilating on his crime, nor any bespattering\nhim with epithets. The passionless narrative tells of the criminal and\nhis crime with unsparing, unmoved tones, which have caught some echo\nbeforehand of the Judge's voice. To name the sinner, and to state\nwithout cloak or periphrasis what his deed really was, is condemnation\nenough. Which of us could stand it?\n\nJudas was foremost of the crowd. What did he feel as he passed swiftly\ninto the shadow of the olives, and caught the first sight of Jesus?\nThat the black depths of his spirit were agitated is plain from two\nthings--the quick kiss, and the nauseous repetition of it. Mark says,\n'Straightway ... he kissed Him much.' Probably the swiftness and\nvehemence, so graphically expressed by these two touches, were due,\nnot only to fear lest Christ should escape, and to hypocrisy\noveracting its part, but to a struggle with conscience and ancient\naffection, and a fierce determination to do the thing and have it\nover. Judas is not the only man who has tried to drown conscience by\nhurrying into and reiterating the sin from which conscience tries to\nkeep him. The very extravagances of evil betray the divided and stormy\nspirit of the doer. In the darkness and confusion, the kiss was a\nsurer token than a word or a pointing finger would have been; and\nsimple convenience appears to have led to its selection. But what a\nlong course of hypocrisy must have preceded and how complete the\nalienation of heart must have become, before such a choice was\npossible! That traitor's kiss has become a symbol for all treachery\ncloaked in the garb of affection. Its lessons and warnings are\nobvious, but this other may be added--that such audacity and\nnauseousness of hypocrisy is not reached at a leap, but presupposes\nlong underground tunnels of insincere discipleship, through which a\nman has burrowed, unseen by others, and perhaps unsuspected by\nhimself. Much hypocrisy of the unconscious sort precedes the\ndeliberate and conscious.\n\nHow much less criminal and disgusting was the rude crowd at Judas's\nheels! Most of them were mere passive tools. The Evangelist points\nbeyond them to the greater criminals by his careful enumeration of all\nclasses of the Jewish authorities, thus laying the responsibility\ndirectly on their shoulders, and indirectly on the nation whom they\nrepresented. The semi-tumultuous character of the crowd is shown by\ncalling them 'a multitude,' and by the medley of weapons which they\ncarried. Half-ignorant hatred, which had had ample opportunities of\nbecoming knowledge and love, offended formalism, blind obedience to\necclesiastical superiors, the dislike of goodness--these impelled the\nrabble who burst into the garden of Gethsemane.\n\nII. Incarnate love, bound and patient. We may bring together verses\n46, 48, and 49, the first of which tells in simplest, briefest words\nthe sacrilegious violence done to Jesus, while the others record His\ncalm remonstrance. 'They laid hands on Him.' That was the first stage\nin outrage--the quick stretching of many hands to secure the\nunresisting prisoner. They 'took Him,' or, as perhaps we might better\nrender, 'They held Him fast,' as would have been done with any\nprisoner. Surely, the quietest way of telling that stupendous fact is\nthe best! It is easy to exclaim, and, after the fashion of some\npopular writers of lives of Christ, to paint fancy pictures. It is\nbetter to be sparing of words, like Mark, and silently to meditate on\nthe patient long-suffering of the love which submitted to these\nindignities, and on the blindness which had no welcome but this for\n'God manifest in the flesh.' Both are in full operation to-day, and\nthe germs of the latter are in us all.\n\nMark confines himself to that one of Christ's sayings which sets in\nthe clearest light His innocence and meek submissiveness. With all its\ncalmness and patience, it is majestic and authoritative, and sounds as\nif spoken from a height far above the hubbub. Its question is not only\nan assertion of His innocence, and therefore of his captor's guilt,\nbut also declares the impotence of force as against Him--'Swords and\nstaves to take Me!' All that parade of arms was out of place, for He\nwas no evil-doer; needless, for He did not resist; and powerless,\nunless He chose to let them prevail. He speaks as the stainless,\nincarnate Son of God. He speaks also as Captain of 'the noble army of\nmartyrs,' and His question may be extended to include the truth that\nforce is in its place when used against crime, but ludicrously and\ntragically out of place when employed against any teacher, and\nespecially against Christianity. Christ, in His persecuted confessors,\nputs the same question to the persecutors which Christ in the flesh\nput to His captors.\n\nThe second clause of Christ's remonstrance appeals to their knowledge\nof Him and His words, and to their attitude towards Him. For several\ndays He had daily been publicly teaching in the Temple. They had laid\nno hands on Him. Nay, some of them, no doubt, had helped to wave the\npalm-branches and swell the hosannas. He does not put the contrast of\nthen and now in its strongest form, but spares them, even while He\nsays enough to bring an unseen blush to some cheeks. He would have\nthem ask, 'Why this change in us, since He is the same? Did He deserve\nto be hailed as King a few short hours ago? How, then, before the\npalm-branches are withered, can He deserve rude hands?' Men change in\ntheir feelings to the unchanging Christ; and they who have most\nclosely marked the rise and fall of the tide in their own hearts will\nbe the last to wonder at Christ's captors, and will most appreciate\nthe gentleness of His rebuke and remonstrance.\n\nThe third clause rises beyond all notice of the human agents, and\nsoars to the divine purpose which wrought itself out through them.\nThat divine purpose does not make them guiltless, but it makes Jesus\nsubmissive. He bows utterly, and with no reluctance, to the Father's\nwill, which could be wrought out through unconscious instruments, and\nhad been declared of old by half-understanding prophets, but needed\nthe obedience of the Son to be clear-seeing, cheerful, and complete.\nWe, too, should train ourselves to see the hand that moves the pieces,\nand to make God's will our will, as becomes sons. Then Christ's calm\nwill be ours, and, ceasing from self, and conscious of God everywhere,\nand yielding our wills, which are the self of ourselves, to Him, we\nshall enter into rest.\n\nIII. Rash love defending its Lord with wrong weapons (verse 47). Peter\nmay have felt that he must do something to vindicate his recent\nboasting, and, with his usual headlong haste, stops neither to ask\nwhat good his sword is likely to do, nor to pick his man and take\ndeliberate aim at him. If swords were to be used, they should do\nsomething more effectual than hacking off a poor servant's ear. There\nwas love In the foolish deeds and a certain heroism in braving the\nchance of a return thrust or capture, which should go to Peter's\ncredit. If he alone struck a blow for his Master, it was because the\nothers were more cowardly, not more enlightened. Peter has had rather\nhard measure about this matter, and is condemned by some of us who\nwould not venture a tenth part of what he ventured for his Lord then.\nNo doubt, this was blind and blundering love, with an alloy of\nrashness and wish for prominence; but that is better than unloving\nenlightenment and caution, which is chiefly solicitous about keeping\nits own ears on. It is also worse than love which sees and reflects\nthe image of the meek Sufferer whom it loves. Christ and His cause are\nto be defended by other weapons. Christian heroism endures and does\nnot smite. Not only swords, but bitter words which wound worse than\nthey, are forbidden to Christ's soldier. We are ever being tempted to\nfight Christ's battles with the world's weapons; and many a 'defender\nof the faith' in later days, perhaps even in this very enlightened\nday, has repeated Peter's fault with less excuse than he, and with\nvery little of either his courage or his love.\n\nIV. Cowardly love forsaking its Lord (verse 50). 'They all forsook\nHim, and fled.' And who will venture to say that he would not have\ndone so too? The tree that can stand such a blast must have deep\nroots. The Christ whom they forsook was, to them, but a fragment of\nthe Christ whom we know; and the fear which scattered them was far\nbetter founded and more powerful than anything which the easy-going\nChristians of to-day have to resist. Their flight may teach us to\nplace little reliance on our emotions, however genuine and deep, and\nto look for the security for our continual adherence to Christ, not to\nour fluctuating feelings, but to His steadfast love. We keep close to\nHim, not because our poor fingers grasp His hand--for that grasp is\nalways feeble, and often relaxed--but because His strong and gentle\nhand holds us with a grasp which nothing can loosen. Whoso trusts in\nhis own love to Christ builds on sand, but whoso trusts in Christ's\nlove to him builds on rock.\n\nV. Adventurous curiosity put to flight (verses 51, 52). Probably this\nyoung man was Mark. Only he tells the incident, which has no bearing\non the course of events, and was of no importance but to the person\nconcerned. He has put himself unnamed in a corner of his picture, as\nmonkish painters used to do, content to associate himself even thus\nwith his Lord. His hastily cast-on covering seems to show that he had\nbeen roused from sleep. Mingled love and curiosity and youthful\nadventurousness made him bold to follow when Apostles had fled. No\neffort appears to have been made to stop their flight; but he is laid\nhold of, and, terrified at his own rashness, wriggles himself out of\nhis captors' hands. The whole incident singularly recalls Mark's\nbehaviour on Paul's first missionary journey. There are the same\nadventurousness, the same inconsiderate entrance on perilous paths,\nthe same ignominious and hasty retreat at the first whistle of the\nbullets. A man who pushes himself needlessly into difficulties and\ndangers without estimating their force is pretty sure to take to his\nheels as soon as he feels them, and to cut as undignified a figure as\nthis naked fugitive.\n\nVI. Love frightened, but following (verse 54). Fear had driven Peter\nbut a little way. Love soon drew him and John back. Sudden and often\nopposite impulses moved Ms conduct and ruffled the surface of his\ncharacter, but, deep down, the core was loyal love. He followed, but\nafar off; though 'afar off,' he did follow. If his distance betrayed\nhis terror, his following witnessed his bravery. He is not a coward\nwho is afraid, but he who lets his fear hinder him from duty or drive\nhim to flight. What is all Christian living but following Christ afar\noff? And do the best of us do more, though we have less apology for\nour distance than Peter had? 'Leaving us an example, that ye should\nfollow His steps' said he, long after, perhaps remembering both that\nmorning and the other by the lake when he was bidden to leave other\nservants' tasks to the Master's disposal, and, for his own part, to\nfollow Him.\n\nHis love pushed him into a dangerous place. He was in bad company\namong the inferior sort of servants huddled around the fire that cold\nmorning, at the lower end of the hall; and as its light flickered on\nhis face, he was sure to be recognised. But we have not now to do with\nhis denial. Rather he is the type of a true disciple, coercing his\nhuman weakness and cowardice to yield to the attraction which draws\nhim to his Lord, and restful in the humblest place where he can catch\na glimpse of His face, and so be, as he long after alleged it as his\nchief title to authority to have been, 'a witness of the sufferings of\nChrist.'\n\n\n\nTHE CONDEMNATION WHICH CONDEMNS THE JUDGES\n\n\n'And the chief priests and all the council sought for witness against\nJesus to put Him to death; and found none. 56. For many bare false\nwitness against Him, but their witness agreed not together. 57. And\nthere arose certain, and bare false witness against Him, saying, 58.\nWe heard Him say, I will destroy this temple that is made with hands,\nand within three days I will build another made without hands. 59. But\nneither so did their witness agree together. 60. And the high priest\nstood up in their midst, and asked Jesus, saying, Answerest Thou\nnothing? what is it which these witness against Thee? 61. But He held\nHis peace, and answered nothing. Again the high priest asked Him, and\nsaid unto Him, Art Thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed? 62. And\nJesus said, I am: and ye shall see the Son of Man, sitting on the\nright hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. 63. Then the\nhigh priest rent his clothes, and saith, What need we any further\nwitnesses? 64. Ye have heard the blasphemy: what think ye? And they\nall condemned Him to be guilty of death. 65. And some began to spit on\nHim, and to cover His face, and to buffet Him, and to say unto Him,\nProphesy: and the servants did strike Him with the palms of their\nhands.'--Mark xiv. 55-65.\n\nMark brings out three stages in our Lord's trial by the Jewish\nauthorities--their vain attempts to find evidence against Him, which\nwere met by His silence; His own majestic witness to Himself, which\nwas met by a unanimous shriek of condemnation; and the rude mockery of\nthe underlings. The other Evangelists, especially John, supply many\nilluminative details; but the essentials are here. It is only in\ncriticising the Gospels that a summary and a fuller narrative are\ndealt with as contradictory. These three stages naturally divide this\nparagraph.\n\nI. The judges with evil thoughts, the false witnesses, and the silent\nChrist (verses 55-61). The criminal is condemned before He is tried.\nThe judges have made up their minds before they sit, and the Sanhedrim\nis not a court of justice, but a slaughter-house, where murder is to\nbe done under sanction of law. Mark, like Matthew, notes the unanimity\nof the 'council,' to which Joseph of Arimathea--the one swallow which\ndoes not make a summer--appears to have been the only exception; and\nhe probably was absent, or, if present, was silent. He did 'not\nconsent'; but we are not told that he opposed. That ill-omened\nunanimity measures the nation's sin. Flagrant injustice and corruption\nin high places is possible only when society as a whole is corrupt or\nindifferent to corruption. This prejudging of a case from hatred of\nthe accused as a destroyer of sacred tradition, and this hunting for\nevidence to bolster up a foregone conclusion, are preeminently the\nvices of ecclesiastical tribunals and not of Jewish Sanhedrim or Papal\nInquisition only. Where judges look for witnesses for the prosecution,\nplenty will be found, ready to curry favour by lies. The eagerness to\nfind witnesses against Jesus is witness for Him, as showing that\nnothing in His life or teaching was sufficient to warrant their\nmurderous purpose. His judges condemn themselves in seeking grounds to\ncondemn Him, for they thereby show that their real motive was personal\nspite, or, as Caiaphas suggested, political expediency.\n\nThe single specimen of the worthless evidence given may be either a\npiece of misunderstanding or of malicious twisting of innocent words;\nnor can we decide whether the witnesses contradicted one another or\neach himself. The former is the more probable, as the fundamental\nprinciple of the Jewish law of evidence ('two or three witnesses')\nwould, in that case, rule out the testimony. The saying which they\ngarble meant the very opposite of what they made it mean. It\nrepresented Jesus as the restorer of that which Israel should destroy.\nIt referred to His body which is the true Temple; but the symbolic\ntemple 'made with hands' is so inseparably connected with the real,\nthat the fate of the one determines that of the other. Strangely\nsignificant, therefore, is it, that the rulers heard again, though\ndistorted, at that moment when they were on their trial, the\nfar-reaching sentence, which might have taught them that in slaying\nJesus they were throwing down the Temple and all which centred in it,\nand that by His resurrection, His own act, He would build up again a\nnew polity, which yet was but the old transfigured, even 'the Church,\nwhich is His body.' His work destroys nothing but 'the works of the\ndevil.' He is the restorer of the divine ordinances and gifts which\nmen destroy, and His death and resurrection bring back in nobler form\nall the good things lost by sin, 'the desolations of many\ngenerations.' The history of all subsequent attacks on Christ is\nmirrored here. The foregone conclusion, the evidence sought as an\nafter-thought to give a colourable pretext, the material found by\ntwisting His teaching, the blindness which accuses Him of destroying\nwhat He restores, and fancies itself as preserving what it is\ndestroying, have all reappeared over and over again.\n\nOur Lord's silence is not only that of meekness, 'as a sheep before\nher shearers is dumb.' It is the silence of innocence, and, if we may\nuse the word concerning Him, of scorn. He will not defend Himself to\nsuch judges, nor stoop to repel evidence which they knew to be\nworthless. But there is also something very solemn and judicial in His\nlocked lips. They had ever been ready to open in words of loving\nwisdom; but now they are fast closed, and this is the penalty for\ndespising, that He ceases to speak. Deaf ears make a dumb Christ, What\nwill happen when Jesus and His judges change places, as they will one\nday do? When He says to each, 'Answerest thou nothing? What is it\nwhich these, thy sins, witness against thee?' each will be silent with\nthe consciousness of guilt and of just condemnation by His all-knowing\njustice.\n\nII. Christ's majestic witness to Himself received with a shriek of\ncondemnation. What a supreme moment that was when the head of the\nhierarchy put this question and received the unambiguous answer! The\nveriest impostor asserting Messiahship had a right to have his claims\nexamined; but a howl of hypocritical horror is all which Christ's\nevoke. The high priest knew well enough what Christ's answer would be.\nWhy, then, did he not begin by questioning Jesus, and do without the\nwitnesses? Probably because the council wished to find some pretext\nfor His condemnation without bringing up the real reason; for it\nlooked ugly to condemn a man for claiming to be Messias, and to do it\nwithout examining His credentials. The failure, however, of the false\nwitnesses compelled the council to 'show their hands,' and to hear and\nreject our Lord solemnly and, so to speak, officially, laying His\nassertion of dignity and office before them, as the tribunal charged\nwith the duty of examining His proofs. The question is so definite as\nto imply a pretty full and accurate knowledge of our Lord's teaching\nabout Himself. It embraces two points--office and nature; for 'the\nChrist' and 'the Son of the Blessed' are not equivalents. The latter\ntitle points to our Lord's declarations that He was the Son of God,\nand is an instance of the later Jewish superstition which avoided\nusing the divine name. Loving faith delights in the name of the Lord.\nDead formalism changes reverence into dread, and will not speak it.\n\nSham reverence, feigned ignorance, affected wish for information, the\nfalse show of judicial impartiality, and other lies and vices not a\nfew, are condensed in the question; and the fact that the judge had to\nask it and hear the answer, is an instance of a divine purpose working\nthrough evil men, and compelling reluctant lips to speak words the\nmeaning and bearing of which they little know. Jesus could not leave\nsuch a challenge unanswered. Silence then would have been abandonment\nof His claims. It was fitting that the representatives of the nation\nshould, at that decisive moment, hear Him declare Himself Messiah. It\nwas not fitting that He should be condemned on any other ground. In\nthat answer, and its reception by the council, the nation's rejection\nof Jesus is, as it were, focused and compressed. This was the end of\ncenturies of training by miracle, prophet and psalmist--the saddest\ninstance in man's long, sad history of his awful power to frustrate\nGod's patient educating!\n\nOur Lord's majestic 'I am,' in one word answers both parts of the\nquestion, and then passes on, with strange calm and dignity, to point\nonwards to the time when the criminal will be the judge, and the\njudges will stand at His bar. 'The Son of Man,' His ordinary\ndesignation of Himself, implies His true manhood, and His\nrepresentative character, as perfect man, or, to use modern language,\nthe 'realised ideal' of humanity. In the present connection, its\nemployment in the same sentence as His assertion that He is the Son of\nGod goes deep into the mystery of His twofold nature, and declares\nthat His manhood had a supernatural origin and wielded divine\nprerogatives. Accordingly there follows the explicit prediction of His\nassumption of the highest of these after His death. The Cross was as\nplain to Him as ever; but beyond it gleamed the crown and the throne.\nHe anticipates 'sitting on the right hand of power,' which implies\nrepose, enthronement, judicature, investiture with omnipotence, and\nadministration of the universe. He anticipates 'coming in the clouds\nof heaven,' which distinctly claims to be the future Judge of the\nworld. His hearers could scarcely fail to discern the reference to\nDaniel's prophecy.\n\nWas ever the irony of history more pungently exemplified than in an\nAnnas and Caiaphas holding up hands of horror at the 'blasphemies' of\nJesus? They rightly took His words to mean more than the claim of\nMessiahship as popularly understood. To say that He was the Christ was\nnot 'blasphemy,' but a claim demanding examination; but to say that\nHe, the Son of Man, was Son of God and supreme Judge was so, according\nto their canons. How unconsciously the exclamation, 'What need we\nfurther witnesses?' betrays the purpose for which the witnesses had\nbeen sought, as being simply His condemnation! They were 'needed' to\ncompass His death, which the council now gleefully feels to be\nsecured. So with precipitate unanimity they vote. And this was\nIsrael's welcome to their King, and the outcome of all their history!\nAnd it was the destruction of the national life. That howl of\ncondemnation pronounced sentence on themselves and on the whole order\nof which they were the heads. The prisoner's eyes alone saw then what\nwe and all men may see now--the handwriting on the wall of the high\npriest's palace: 'Weighed in the balance, and found wanting.'\n\nIII. The savage mockers and the patient Christ (verse 65). There is an\nevident antithesis between the 'all' of verse 64 and the 'some' of\nverse 65, which shows that the inflictors of the indignities were\ncertain members of the council, whose fury carried them beyond all\nbounds of decency. The subsequent mention of the 'servants' confirms\nthis, especially when we adopt the more accurate rendering of the\nRevised Version, 'received Him with blows.' Mark's account, then, is\nthis: that, as soon as the unanimous howl of condemnation had beep\nuttered, some of the 'judges'(!) fell upon Jesus with spitting and\nclumsy ridicule and downright violence, and that afterwards He was\nhanded over to the underlings, who were not slow to copy the example\nset them at the upper end of the hall.\n\nIt was not an ignorant mob who thus answered His claims, but the\nleaders and teachers--the _cr\u00eame de la cr\u00eame_ of the nation. A wild\nbeast lurks below the Pharisee's long robes and phylacteries; and the\nmore that men have changed a living belief in religion for a formal\nprofession, the more fiercely antagonistic are they to every attempt\nto realise its precepts and hopes. The 'religious' men who mock Jesus\nin the name of traditional religion are by no means an extinct\nspecies. It is of little use to shudder at the blind cruelty of dead\nscribes and priests. Let us rather remember that the seeds of their\nsins are in us all, and take care to check their growth. What a\nvolcano of hellish passion bursts out here! Spitting expresses\ndisgust; blinding and asking for the names of the smiters is a clumsy\nattempt at wit and ridicule; buffeting is the last unrestrained form\nof hate and malice. The world has always paid its teachers and\nbenefactors in such coin; but all other examples pale before this\nsaddest, transcendent instance. Love is repaid by hate; a whole nation\nis blind to supreme and unspotted goodness; teachers steeped in 'law\nand prophets' cannot see Him of and for whom law and prophets\nwitnessed and were, when He stands before them. The sin of sins is the\nfailure to recognise Jesus for what He is. His person and claims are\nthe touchstone which tries every beholder of what sort He is.\n\nHow wonderful the silent patience of Jesus! He withholds not His face\n'from shame and spitting.' He gives 'His back to the smiters.' Meek\nendurance and passive submission are not all which we have to behold\nthere. This is more than an uncomplaining martyr. This is the\nsacrifice for the world's sin; and His bearing of all that men can\ninflict is more than heroism. It is redeeming love. His sad, loving\neyes, wide open below their bandage, saw and pitied each rude smiter,\neven as He sees us all. They were and are eyes of infinite tenderness,\nready to beam forgiveness; but they were and are the eyes of the\nJudge, who sees and repays His foes, as those who smite Him will one\nday find out.\n\n\n\nCHRIST AND PILATE: THE TRUE KING AND HIS COUNTERFEIT\n\n\n'And straightway in the morning the chief priests held a consultation\nwith the elders and scribes and the whole council, and bound Jesus,\nand carried Him away, and delivered Him to Pilate. 2. And Pilate asked\nHim, Art Thou the King of the Jews? And He answering said unto him,\nThou sayest it. 3. And the chief priests accused Him of many things:\nbut He answered nothing. 4. And Pilate asked Him again, saying,\nAnswerest Thou nothing? behold how many things they witness against\nThee. 6. But Jesus yet answered nothing; so that Pilate marvelled. 6.\nNow at that feast he released unto them one prisoner, whomsoever they\ndesired. 7. And there was one named Barabbas, which lay bound with\nthem that had made insurrection with him, who had committed murder in\nthe insurrection. 8. And the multitude crying aloud began to desire\nhim to do as he had ever done unto them. 9. But Pilate answered them,\nsaying, Will ye that I release unto you the King of the Jews? 10. For\nhe knew that the chief priests had delivered Him for envy. 11. But the\nchief priests moved the people, that he should rather release Barabbas\nunto them. 12. And Pilate answered and said again unto them, What will\nye then that I shall do unto Him whom ye call the King of the Jews?\n13. And they cried out again, Crucify Him. 14. Then Pilate said unto\nthem, Why, what evil hath He done? And they cried out the more\nexceedingly, Crucify Him. 15. And so Pilate, willing to content the\npeople, released Barabbas unto them, and delivered Jesus, when he had\nscourged Him, to be crucified. 16. And the soldiers led Him away into\nthe hall, called Praetorium; and they call together the whole band.\n17. And they clothed Him with purple, and platted a crown of thorns,\nand put it about His head, 18. And began to salute Him, Hail, King of\nthe Jews! 19. And they smote Him on the head with a reed, and did spit\nupon Him, and bowing their knees worshipped Him. 20. And when they had\nmocked Him they took off the purple from Him, and put His own clothes\non Him, and led Him out to crucify Him.'--Mark xv. 1-20.\n\nThe so-called trial of Jesus by the rulers turned entirely on his\nclaim to be Messias; His examination by Pilate turns entirely on His\nclaim to be king. The two claims are indeed one, but the political\naspect is distinguishable from the higher one; and it was the Jewish\nrulers' trick to push it exclusively into prominence before Pilate, in\nthe hope that he might see in the claim an incipient insurrection, and\nmight mercilessly stamp it out. It was a new part for them to play to\nhand over leaders of revolt to the Roman authorities, and a governor\nwith any common sense must have suspected that there was something hid\nbelow such unusual loyalty. What a moment of degradation and of\ntreason against Israel's sacredest hopes that was when its rulers\ndragged Jesus to Pilate on such a charge! Mark follows the same method\nof condensation and discarding of all but the essentials, as in the\nother parts of his narrative. He brings out three points--the hearing\nbefore Pilate, the popular vote for Barabbas, and the soldiers'\nmockery.\n\nI. The true King at the bar of the apparent ruler (verses 1-6). The\ncontrast between appearance and reality was never more strongly drawn\nthan when Jesus stood as a prisoner before Pilate. The One is\nhelpless, bound, alone; the other invested with all the externals of\npower. But which is the stronger? and in which hand is the sceptre? On\nthe lowest view of the contrast, it is ideas _versus_ swords. On the\nhigher and truer, it is the incarnate God, mighty because voluntarily\nweak, and man 'dressed in a little brief authority,' and weak because\ninsolently 'making his power his god.' Impotence, fancying itself\nstrong, assumes sovereign authority over omnipotence clothed in\nweakness. The phantom ruler sits in judgment on the true King. Pilate\nholding Christ's life in his hand is the crowning paradox of history,\nand the mystery of self-abasing love. One exercise of the Prisoner's\nwill and His chains would have snapped, and the governor lain dead on\nthe marble 'pavement.'\n\nThe two hearings are parallel, and yet contrasted. In each there are\ntwo stages--the self-attestation of Jesus and the accusations of\nothers; but the order is different. The rulers begin with the\nwitnesses, and, foiled there, fall back on Christ's own answer,\nPilate, with Roman directness and a touch of contempt for the\naccusers, goes straight to the point, and first questions Jesus. His\nquestion was simply as to our Lord's regal pretensions. He cared\nnothing about Jewish 'superstitions' unless they threatened political\ndisturbance. It was nothing to him whether or no one crazy fanatic\nmore fancied himself 'the Messiah,' whatever that might be. Was He\ngoing to fight?--that was all which Pilate had to look after. He is\nthe very type of the hard, practical Roman, with a 'practical' man's\ncontempt for ideas and sentiments, sceptical as to the possibility of\ngetting hold of 'truth,' and too careless to wait for an answer to his\nquestion about it; loftily ignorant of and indifferent to the notions\nof the troublesome people that he ruled, but alive to the necessity of\nkeeping them in good humour, and unscrupulous enough to strain justice\nand unhesitatingly to sacrifice so small a thing as an innocent life\nto content them.\n\nWhat could such a man see in Jesus but a harmless visionary? He had\nevidently made up his mind that there was no mischief in Him, or he\nwould not have questioned Him as to His kingship. It was a new thing\nfor the rulers to hand over dangerous patriots, and Pilate had\nexperience enough to suspect that such unusual loyalty concealed\nsomething else, and that if Jesus had really been an insurrectionary\nleader, He would never have fallen into Pilate's power. Accordingly,\nhe gives no serious attention to the case, and his question has a\ncertain half-amused, half-pitying ring about it. 'Thou a king? '--poor\nhelpless peasant! A strange specimen of royalty this! How constantly\nthe same blindness is repeated, and the strong things of this world\ndespise the weak, and material power smiles pityingly at the helpless\nimpotence of the principles of Christ's gospel, which yet will one day\nshatter it to fragments, like a potter's vessel! The phantom ruler\njudges the real King to be a powerless shadow, while himself is the\nshadow and the other the substance. There are plenty of Pilates to-day\nwho judge and misjudge the King of Israel.\n\nThe silence of Jesus in regard to the eager accusations corresponds to\nHis silence before the false witnesses. The same reason dictated both.\nHis silence is His most eloquent answer. It calmly passes by all these\ncharges by envenomed tongues as needing no reply, and as utterly\nirrelevant. Answered, they would have lived in the Gospels;\nunanswered, they are buried. Christ can afford to let many of His foes\nalone. Contradictions and confutations keep slanders and heresies\nabove water, which the law of gravitation would dispose of if they\nwere left alone.\n\nPilate's wonder might and should have led him further. It should have\nprompted to further inquiry, and that might have issued in clearer\nknowledge. It was the little glimmer of light at the far-off end of\nhis cavern, which, travelled towards, might have brought him into free\nair and broad day. One great part of his crime was neglecting the\nfaint monitions of which he was conscious. His light may have been\ndim, but it would have brightened; and he quenched it. He stands as a\ntremendous example of possibilities missed, and of the tragedy of a\nsoul that has looked on Jesus, and has not yielded to the impressions\nmade on him by the sight.\n\nII. The people's favourite (verses 7-15), 'Barabbas' means 'son of the\nfather,' His very name is a kind of caricature of the 'Son of the\nBlessed,' and his character and actions present in gross form the sort\nof Messias whom the nation really wanted. He had headed some one of\nthe many small riots against Rome which were perpetually sputtering up\nand being trampled out by an armed heel. There had been bloodshed, in\nwhich he had himself taken part ('a murderer,' Acts iii. 14). And this\ncoarse, red-handed desperado is the people's favourite, because he\nembodied their notions and aspirations, and had been bold enough to do\nwhat every man of them would have done if he had dared. He thought and\nfelt, as they did, that freedom was to be won by the sword. The\npopular hero is as a mirror which reflects the popular mind. He echoes\nthe popular voice, a little improved or exaggerated. Jesus had taught\nwhat the people did not care to hear, and given blessings which even\nthe recipients soon forgot, and lived a life whose 'beauty of\nholiness' oppressed and rebuked the common life of men. What chance\nhad truth and kindness and purity against the sort of bravery that\nslashes with a sword, and is not elevated above the mob by\ninconvenient reach of thought or beauty of character? Even now, after\nnineteen centuries of Christ's influence have modified the popular\nideals, what chance have they? Are the popular 'heroes' of Christian\nnations saints, teachers, lovers of men, in whom their Christ-likeness\nis the thing venerated? The old saying that the voice of the people is\nthe voice of God receives an instructive commentary in the vote for\nBarabbas and against Jesus. That was what a plebiscite for the\ndiscovery of the people's favourite came to. What a reliable method of\nfinding the best man universal suffrage, manipulated by wirepullers\nlike these priests, is! and how wise the people are who let it guide\ntheir judgments, or still wiser, who fret their lives out in angling\nfor its approval! Better be condemned with Jesus than adopted with\nBarabbas.\n\nThat fatal choice revealed the character of the choosers, both in\ntheir hostility and admiration; for excellence hated shows what we\nought to be and are not, and grossness or vice admired shows what we\nwould fain be if we dared. It was the tragic sign that Israel had not\nlearned the rudiments of the lesson which 'at sundry times and in\ndivers manners' God had been teaching them. In it the nation renounced\nits Messianic hopes, and with its own mouth pronounced its own\nsentence. It convicted them of insensibility to the highest truth, of\nblindness to the most effulgent light, of ingratitude for the richest\ngifts. It is the supreme instance of short-lived, unintelligent\nemotion, inasmuch as many who on Friday joined in the roar, 'Crucify\nHim!' had on Sunday shouted 'Hosanna!' till they were hoarse.\n\nPilate plays a cowardly and unrighteous part in the affair, and tries\nto make amends to himself for his politic surrender of a man whom he\nknew to be innocent, by taunts and sarcasm. He seems to see a chance\nto release Jesus, if he can persuade the mob to name Him as the\nprisoner to be set free, according to custom. His first proposal to\nthem was apparently dictated by a genuine interest in Jesus, and a\ncomplete conviction that Rome had nothing to fear from this 'King.'\nBut there are also in the question a sneer at such pauper royalty, as\nit looked to him, and a kind of scornful condescension in\nacknowledging the mob's right of choice. He consults their wishes for\nonce, but there is haughty consciousness of mastery in his way of\ndoing it. His appeal is to the people, as against the priests whose\nmotives he had penetrated. But in his very effort to save Jesus he\ncondemns himself; for, if he knew that they had delivered Christ for\nenvy, his plain duty was to set the prisoner free, as innocent of the\nonly crime of which he ought to take cognisance. So his attempt to\nshift the responsibility off his own shoulders is a piece of cowardice\nand a dereliction of duty. His second question plunges him deeper in\nthe mire. The people had a right to decide which was to be released,\nbut none to settle the fate of Jesus. To put that in their hands was\nan unconditional surrender by Pilate, and the sneer in 'whom _ye_ call\nthe King of the Jews' is a poor attempt to hide from them and himself\nthat he is afraid of them. Mark puts his finger on the damning blot in\nPilate's conduct when he says that his motive for condemning Jesus was\nhis wish to content the people. The life of one poor Jew was a small\nprice to pay for popularity. So he let policy outweigh righteousness,\nand, in spite of his own clear conviction, did an innocent man to\ndeath. That would be his reading of his act, and, doubtless, it did\nnot trouble his conscience much or long, but he would leave the\njudgment-seat tolerably satisfied with his morning's work. How little\nhe knew what he had done! In his ignorance lies his palliation. His\ncrime was great, but his guilt is to be measured by his light, and\nthat was small. He prostituted justice for his own ends, and he did\nnot follow out the dawnings of light that would have led him to know\nJesus. Therefore he did the most awful thing in the world's history.\nLet us learn the lesson which he teaches!\n\nIII. The soldiers' mockery (verses 16-20). This is characteristically\ndifferent from that of the rulers, who jeered at His claim to\nsupernatural enlightenment, and bade Him show His Messiahship by\nnaming His smiters. The rough legionaries knew nothing about a\nMessiah, but it seemed to them a good jest that this poor, scourged\nprisoner should have called Himself a King, and so they proceed to\nmake coarse and clumsy merriment over it. It is like the wild beast\nplaying with its prey before killing it. The laughter is not only\nrough, but cruel. There was no pity for the Victim 'bleeding from the\nRoman rods,' and soon to die. And the absence of any personal hatred\nmade this mockery more hideous. Jesus was nothing to them but a\nprisoner whom they were to crucify, and their mockery was sheer\nbrutality and savage delight in torturing. The sport is too good to be\nkept by a few, so the whole band is gathered to enjoy it. How they\nwould troop to the place! They get hold of some robe or cloth of the\nimperial colour, and of some flexible shoots of some thorny plant, and\nout of these they fashion a burlesque of royal trappings. Then they\nshout, as they would have done to Caesar, 'Hail, King of the Jews!'\nrepeating again with clumsy iteration the stale jest which seems to\nthem so exquisite. Then their mood changes, and naked ferocity takes\nthe place of ironical reverence. Plucking the mock sceptre, the reed,\nfrom His passive hand, they strike the thorn-crowned Head with it, and\nspit on Him, while they bow in mock reverence before Him, and at last,\nwhen tired of their sport, tear off the purple, and lead him away to\nthe Cross.\n\nIf we think of who He was who bore all this, and of why He bore it, we\nmay well bow not the knee but the heart, in endless love and\nthankfulness. If we think of the mockers--rude Roman soldiers, who\nprobably could not understand a word of what they heard on the streets\nof Jerusalem--we shall do rightly to remember our Lord's own plea for\nthem, 'they know not what they do,' and reflect that many of us with\nmore knowledge do really sin more against the King than they did.\nTheir insult was an unconscious prophecy. They foretold the basis of\nHis dominion by the crown of thorns, and its character by the sceptre\nof reed, and its extent by their mocking salutations; for His Kingship\nis founded in suffering, wielded with gentleness, and to Him every\nknee shall one day bow, and every tongue confess that the King of the\nJews is monarch of mankind.\n\n\n\nTHE DEATH WHICH GIVES LIFE\n\n\n'And they compel one Simon a Cyrenian, who passed by, coming out of\nthe country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to bear His cross. 22.\nAnd they bring Him unto the place Golgotha, which is, being\ninterpreted, The place of a skull. 23. And they gave Him to drink wine\nmingled with myrrh: but He received it not. 24. And when they had\ncrucified Him, they parted His garments, casting lots upon them, what\nevery man should take. 25. And it was the third hour, and they\ncrucified Him. 26. And the superscription of His accusation was\nwritten over, THE KING OF THE JEWS. 27. And with Him they crucify two\nthieves; the one on His right hand, and the other on His left. 28. And\nthe Scripture was fulfilled, which saith, And He was numbered with the\ntransgressors. 29. And they that passed by railed on Him, wagging\ntheir heads, and saying, Ah, Thou that destroyest the temple, and\nbuildest it in three days, 30. Save Thyself, and come down from the\ncross. 31. Likewise also the chief priests mocking said among\nthemselves with the scribes, He saved others; Himself He cannot save.\n32. Let Christ the King of Israel descend now from the cross, that we\nmay see and believe. And they that were crucified with Him reviled\nHim. 33. And when the sixth hour was come, there was darkness over the\nwhole land until the ninth hour. 34. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried\nwith a loud voice, saying, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? which is,\nbeing interpreted, My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me? 35. And\nsome of them that stood by, when they heard it, said, Behold, He\ncalleth Elias. 36. And one ran and filled a sponge full of vinegar,\nand put it on a reed, and gave Him to drink, saying, Let alone; let us\nsee whether Elias will come to take Him down. 37. And Jesus cried with\na loud voice, and gave up the ghost. 38. And the veil of the temple\nwas rent in twain from the top to the bottom. 39. And when the\ncenturion, which stood over against Him, saw that He so cried out, and\ngave up the ghost, he said, Truly this man was the Son of God.'--Mark\nxv. 21-39.\n\nThe narrative of the crucifixion is, in Mark's hands, almost entirely\na record of what was done to Jesus, and scarcely touches what was done\nby Him. We are shown the executioners, the jeering rabble, the\ntriumphant priests, the fellow-sufferers reviling; but the only\nglimpses we get of Him are His refusal of the stupefying draught, His\nloud cries, and His giving up the ghost. The narrative is perfectly\ncalm, as well as reverently reticent. It would have been well if our\nreligious literature had copied the example, and treated the solemn\nscene in the same fashion. Mark's inartificial style of linking long\nparagraphs with the simple 'and' is peculiarly observable here, where\nevery verse but vv. 30 and 32, which are both quotations, begins with\nit. The whole section is one long sentence, each member of which adds\na fresh touch to the tragic picture. The monotonous repetition of\n'and,' 'and,' 'and,' gives the effect of an endless succession of the\nwares of sorrow, pain, and contumely which broke over that sacred\nhead. We shall do best simply to note each billow as it breaks.\n\nThe first point is the impressing of Simon to bear the Cross. That was\nnot dictated by compassion so much as by impatience. Apparently the\nweight was too heavy for Jesus, and the pace could be quickened by\nmaking the first man who could be laid hold of help to carry the load.\nMark adds that Simon was the 'father of Alexander and Rufus,' whom he\nsupposes to need no introduction to his readers. There is a Rufus\nmentioned in Romans xvi. 13 as being, with his mother, members of the\nRoman Church. Mark's Gospel has many traces of being primarily\nintended for Romans. Possibly these two Rufuses are the same; and the\nconjecture may be allowable that the father's fortuitous association\nwith the crucifixion led to the conversion of himself and his family,\nand that his sons were of more importance or fame in the Church than\nhe was. Perhaps, too, he is the 'Simeon called Niger' (bronzed by the\nhot African sun) who was a prophet of Antioch, and stands by the side\nof a Cyrenian (Acts xiii. 1). It is singular that he should be the\nonly one of all the actors in the crucifixion who is named; and the\nfact suggests his subsequent connection with the Church. If so, the\nseeking love of God found him by a strange way. On what apparently\ntrivial accidents a life may be pivoted, and how much may depend on\nturning to right or left in a walk! In this bewildering network of\ninterlaced events, which each ramifies in so many directions, the only\nsafety is to keep fast hold of God's hand and to take good care of the\npurity of our motives, and let results alone.\n\nThe next verse brings us to Golgotha, which is translated by the three\nEvangelists, who give it as meaning 'the place of a skull.' The name\nmay have been given to the place of execution with grim\nsuggestiveness; or, more probably, Conder's suggested identification\nis plausible, which points to a little, rounded, skull-shaped knoll,\nclose outside the northern wall, as the site of the crucifixion. In\nthat case, the name would originally describe the form of the height,\nand be retained as specially significant in view of its use as the\nplace of execution. That was the 'place' to which Israel led its King!\nThe place of death becomes a place of life, and from the mournful soil\nwhere the bones of evildoers lay bleaching in the sun springs the\nfountain of water of life.\n\nArrived at that doleful place, a small touch of kindness breaks the\nmonotony of cruelty, if it be not merely apart of the ordinary routine\nof executions. The stupefying potion would diminish, but would\ntherefore protract, the pain, and was possibly given for the latter\nrather than the former effect. But Jesus 'received it not.' He will\nnot, by any act of His, lessen the bitterness. He will drink to the\ndregs the cup which His Father hath given Him, and therefore He will\nnot drink of the numbing draught. It is a small matter comparatively,\nbut it is all of a piece with the greater things. The spirit of His\nwhole course of voluntary, cheerful endurance of all the sorrows\nneedful to redeem the world, is expressed in His silent turning away\nfrom the draught which might have alleviated physical suffering, but\nat the cost of dulling conscious surrender.\n\nThe act of crucifixion is but named in a subsidiary clause, as if the\nwriter turned away, with eyes veiled in reverence, from the sight of\nman's utmost sin and Christ's utmost mystery of suffering love. He can\ndescribe the attendant circumstances, but his pen refuses to dwell\nupon the central fact. The highest art and the simplest natural\nfeeling both know that the fewest words are the most eloquent. He will\nnot expressly mention the indignity done to the sacred Body in which\n'dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead,' but leaves it to be inferred\nfrom the parting of Christ's raiment, the executioner's perquisite. He\nhad nothing else belonging to Him, and of even that poor property He\nis spoiled. According to John's more detailed account, the soldiers\nmade an equal parting of His garments except the seamless robe, for\nwhich they threw lots. So the 'parting' applies to one portion, and\nthe 'casting lots' to another. The incident teaches two things: on the\none hand, the stolid indifference of the soldiers, who had crucified\nmany a Jew, and went about their awful work as a mere piece of routine\nduty; and, on the other hand, the depth of the abasement and shame to\nwhich Jesus bowed for our sakes. 'Naked shall I return thither' was\ntrue in the most literal sense of Him whose earthly life began with\nHis laying aside His garments of divine glory, and ended with rude\nlegionaries parting 'His raiment' among them.\n\nMark alone tells the hour at which Jesus was nailed to the Cross\n(verse 25). Matthew and Luke specify the sixth and ninth hours as the\ntimes of the darkness and of the death; but to Mark we owe our\nknowledge of the fact that for six slow hours Jesus hung there,\ntasting death drop by drop. At any moment of all these sorrow-laden\nmoments He could have come down from the Cross, if He would. At each,\na fresh exercise of His loving will to redeem kept Him there.\n\nThe writing on the Cross is given here in the most condensed fashion\n(verse 26). The one important point is that His 'accusation'\nwas--'King of the Jews.' It was the official statement of the reason\nfor His crucifixion, put there by Pilate as a double-barrelled\nsarcasm, hitting both Jesus and the nation. The rulers winced under\nthe taunt, and tried to get it softened; but Pilate sought to make up\nfor his unrighteous facility in yielding Jesus to death, by obstinacy\nand jeers. So the inscription hung there, a truth deeper than its\nauthor or its angry readers knew, and a prophecy which has not\nreceived all its fulfilment yet.\n\nThe narrative comes back, in verse 27, to the sad catalogue of the\ninsults heaped on Jesus. Verse 28 is probably spurious here, as the\nRevised Version takes it to be; but it truly expresses the intention\nof the crucifixion of the thieves as being to put Him in the same\nclass as they, and to suggest that He was a ringleader, pre-eminent in\nevil. Possibly the two robbers may have been part of Barabbas' band,\nwho had been brigands disguised as patriots; and, if so, the insult\nwas all the greater. But, in any case, the meaning of it was to bring\nHim down, in the eyes of beholders, to the level of vulgar criminals.\nIf a Cranmer or a Latimer had been bound to the stake with a\nhousebreaker or a cut-throat, that would have been a feeble image of\nthe malicious contumely thus flung at Jesus; but His love had\nidentified Him with the worst sinners in a far deeper and more real\nway, and not a crime had stained these men's hands, but its weight\npressed on Him. He numbered Himself with transgressors, that they may\nbe numbered with His saints.\n\nThen follows (verses 29-32) the threefold mockery by people, priests,\nand fellow-sufferers. That is spread over three hours, and is all\nwhich Mark has to tell of them. Other Evangelists give us words spoken\nby Jesus; but this narrative has only one of the seven words from the\nCross, and gives us the picture rather of the silent Sufferer, bearing\nin meek resolution all that men can lay on Him. Both pictures are\ntrue, for the words are too few to make notable breaches in the\nsilence. The mockery harps on the old themes, and witnesses at once\nthe malicious cruelty of the mockers and the innocence of the Victim,\nat whom even such malice could find nothing to fling except these\nstale taunts. The chance passengers, of whom there would be a stream\nto and from the adjacent city gate, 'wag their heads' in gratified and\nfierce hate. The calumny of the discredited witnesses, although even\nthe biased judges had not dared to treat it as true, has lodged in the\npopular mind, and been accepted as proved. Lies are not killed when\nthey are shown to be lies. They travel faster than truth. Ears were\ngreedily open for the false witnesses' evidence which had been closed\nto Christ's gracious teaching. The charge that He was a would-be\ndestroyer of the Temple obliterated all remembrance of miracles and\nbenefits, and fanned the fire of hatred in men whose zeal for the\nTemple was a substitute for religion. Are there any of them left\nnowadays--people who have no real heart-hold of Christianity, but are\nfiercely antagonistic to supposed destroyers of its externals, and not\nover-particular to the evidence against them? These mockers thought\nthat Christ's being fastened to the Cross was a _reductio ad absurdum_\nof His claim to build the Temple. How little they knew that it led\nstraight to that rebuilding, or that they, and not He, were indeed the\ndestroyers of the holy house which they thought that they were\nhonouring, and were really making 'desolate'!\n\nThe priests do not take up the people's mockery, for they know that it\nis based upon a falsehood; but they scoff at His miracles, which they\nassume to be disproved by His crucifixion. Their venomous gibe is\nprofoundly true, and goes to the very heart of the gospel. Precisely\nbecause 'He saved others,' therefore 'Himself He cannot save'--not, as\nthey thought, for want of power, but because His will was fixed to\nobey the Father and to redeem His brethren, and therefore He must die\nand cannot deliver Himself. But the necessity and inability both\ndepend on His will. The priests, however, take up the other part of\nthe people's scoff. They unite the two grounds of condemnation in the\nnames 'the Christ, the King of Israel,' and think that both are\ndisproved by His hanging there. But the Cross is the throne of the\nKing. A sacrificial death is the true work of the Messiah of law,\nprophecy, and psalm; and because He did not come down from the Cross,\ntherefore is He 'crowned with glory and honour' in heaven, and rules\nover grateful and redeemed hearts on earth.\n\nThe midday darkness lasted three hours, during which no word or\nincident is recorded. It was nature divinely draped in mourning over\nthe sin of sins, the most tragic of deaths. It was a symbol of the\neclipse of the Light of the world; but ere He died it passed, and the\nsun shone on His expiring head, in token that His death scattered our\ndarkness and poured day on our sad night. The solemn silence was\nbroken at last by that loud cry, the utterance of strangely blended\nconsciousness of possession of God and of abandonment by Him, the\ndepths of which we can never fathom. But this we know: that our sins,\nnot His, wove the veil which separated Him from His God. Such\nseparation is the real death. Where cold analysis is out of place,\nreverent gratitude may draw near. Let us adore, for what we can\nunderstand speaks of a love which has taken on itself the iniquity of\nus all. Let us silently adore, for all words are weaker than that\nmystery of love.\n\nThe first hearers of that cry misunderstood it, or cruelly pretended\nto do so, in order to find fresh food for mockery. 'Eloi' sounded like\nenough to 'Elijah' to suggest to some of the flinty hearts around a\ntravesty of the piteous appeal. They must have been Jews, for the\nsoldiers knew nothing about the prophet; and if they were Scribes,\nthey could scarcely fail to recognise the reference to the\nTwenty-second Psalm, and to understand the cry. But the opportunity\nfor one more cruelty was too tempting to be resisted, and savage\nlaughter was man's response to the most pitiful prayer ever uttered.\nOne man in all that crowd had a small touch of human pity, and,\ndipping a sponge in the sour drink provided for the soldiers, reached\nit up to the parched lips. That was no stupefying draught, and was\naccepted. Matthew's account is more detailed, and represents the words\nspoken as intended to hinder even that solitary bit of kindness.\n\nThe end was near. The lips, moistened by the 'vinegar,' opened once\nmore in that loud cry which both showed undiminished vitality and\nconscious victory; and then He 'gave up the ghost,' _sending away_ His\nspirit, and dying, not because the prolonged agony had exhausted His\nenergy, but because He chose to die, He entered through the gate of\ndeath as a conqueror, and burst its bars when He went in, and not only\nwhen He came out.\n\nHis death rent the Temple veil. The innermost chamber of the Divine\nPresence is open now, and sinful men have 'access with confidence by\nthe faith of Him,' to every place whither He has gone before. Right\ninto the secret of God's pavilion we can go, now and here, knowledge\nand faith and love treading the path which Jesus has opened, and\ncoming to the Father by Him. Bight into the blaze of the glory we\nshall go hereafter; for He has gone to prepare a place for us, and\nwhen He overcame the sharpness of death He opened the gate of heaven\nto all believers.\n\nJews looked on, unconcerned and unconvinced by the pathos and triumph\nof such a death. But the rough soldier who commanded the executioners\nhad no prejudices or hatred to blind his eyes and ossify his heart.\nThe sight made its natural impression on him; and his exclamation,\nthough not to be taken as a Christian confession or as using the\nphrase 'Son of God' in its deepest meaning, is yet the beginning of\nlight. Perhaps, as he went thoughtfully to his barrack that afternoon,\nthe process began which led him at last to repeat his first\nexclamation with deepened meaning and true faith. May we all gaze on\nthat Cross, with fuller knowledge, with firm trust, and endless love!\n\n\n\nSIMON THE CYRENIAN\n\n\n'And they compel one Simon, a Cyrenian, who passed by, coming out of\nthe country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to bear His\nCross.'--Mark xv. 21.\n\nHow little these soldiers knew that they were making this man\nimmortal! What a strange fate that is which has befallen chose persons\nin the Gospel narrative, who for an instant came into contact with\nJesus Christ. Like ships passing athwart the white ghostlike splendour\nof moonlight on the sea, they gleam silvery pure for a moment as they\ncross its broad belt, and then are swallowed up again in the darkness.\n\nThis man Simon, fortuitously, as men say, meeting the little\nprocession at the gate of the city, for an instant is caught in the\nradiance of the light, and stands out visible for evermore to all the\nworld; and then sinks into the blackness, and we know no more about\nhim. This brief glimpse tells us very little, and yet the man and his\nact and its consequences may be worth thinking about.\n\nHe was a Cyrenian; that is, he was a Jew by descent, probably born,\nand certainly resident, for purposes of commerce, in Cyrene, on the\nNorth African coast of the Mediterranean. No doubt he had come up to\nJerusalem for the Passover; and like very many of the strangers who\nflocked to the Holy City for the feast, met some difficulty in finding\naccommodation in the city, and so was obliged to go to lodge in one of\nthe outlying villages. From this lodging he is coming in, in the\nmorning, knowing nothing about Christ nor His trial, knowing nothing\nof what he is about to meet, and happens to see the procession as it\nis passing out of the gate. He is by the centurion impressed to help\nthe fainting Christ to carry the heavy Cross. He probably thought\nJesus a common criminal, and would resent the task laid upon him by\nthe rough authority of the officer in command. But he was gradually\ntouched into some kind of sympathy; drawn closer and closer, as we\nsuppose, as he looked upon this dying meekness; and at last, yielded\nto the soul-conquering power of Christ.\n\nTradition says so, and the reasons for supposing that it was right may\nbe very simply stated. The description of him in our text as 'the\nfather of Alexander and Rufus' shows that, by the time when Mark\nwrote, his two sons were members of the Christian community, and had\nattained some eminence in it. A Rufus is mentioned in the salutations\nin Paul's Epistle to the Romans, as being 'elect in the Lord,' that is\nto say, 'eminent,' and his mother is associated in the greeting, and\ncommended as having been motherly to Paul as well as to Rufus. Now, if\nwe remember that Mark's Gospel was probably written in Rome, and for\nRoman Christians, the conjecture seems a very reasonable one that the\nRufus here was the Rufus of the Epistle to the Romans. If so, it would\nseem that the family had been gathered into the fold of the Church,\nand in all probability, therefore, the father with them.\n\nThen there is another little morsel of possible evidence which may\njust be noticed. We find in the Acts of the Apostles, in the list of\nthe prophets and teachers in the Church at Antioch, a 'Simon, who is\ncalled Niger' (that is, black, the hot African sun having tanned his\ncountenance, perhaps), and side by side with him one 'Lucius of\nCyrene,' from which place we know that several of the original brave\npreachers to the Gentiles in Antioch came. It is possible that this\nmay be our Simon, and that he who was the last to join the band of\ndisciples during the Master's life and learned courage at the Cross\nwas among the first to apprehend the world-wide destination of the\nGospel, and to bear it beyond the narrow bounds of his nation.\n\nAt all events, I think we may, with something like confidence, believe\nthat his glimpse of Christ on that morning and his contact with the\nsuffering Saviour ended in his acceptance of Him as his Christ, and in\nhis bearing in a truer sense the Cross after Him.\n\nAnd so I seek now to gather some of the lessons that seem to me to\narise from this incident.\n\nI. First, the greatness of trifles. If Simon had started from the\nlittle village where he lodged five minutes earlier or later, if he\nhad walked a little faster or slower, if he had happened to be lodging\non the other side of Jerusalem, or if the whim had taken him to go in\nat another gate, or if the centurion's eye had not chanced to alight\non him in the crowd, or if the centurion's fancy had picked out\nsomebody else to carry the Cross, then all his life would have been\ndifferent. And so it is always. You go down one turning rather than\nanother, and your whole career is coloured thereby. You miss a train,\nand you escape death. Our lives are like the Cornish rocking stones,\npivoted on little points. The most apparently insignificant things\nhave a strange knack of suddenly developing unexpected consequences,\nand turning out to be, not small things at all, but great and decisive\nand fruitful.\n\nLet us then look with ever fresh wonder on this marvellous contexture\nof human life, and on Him that moulds it all to His own perfect\npurposes. Let us bring the highest and largest principles to bear on\nthe smallest events and circumstances, for you can never tell which of\nthese is going to turn out a revolutionary and formative influence in\nyour life. And if the highest Christian principle is not brought to\nbear upon the trifles, depend upon it, it will never be brought to\nbear upon the mighty things. The most part of every life is made up of\ntrifles, and unless these are ruled by the highest motives, life,\nwhich is divided into grains like the sand, will have gone by, while\nwe are waiting for the great events which we think worthy of being\nregulated by lofty principles. 'Take care of the pence and the pounds\nwill take care of themselves.'\n\nLook after the trifles, for the law of life is like that which is laid\ndown by the Psalmist about the Kingdom of Jesus Christ: 'There shall\nbe a handful of corn in the earth,' a little seed sown in an\napparently ungenial place 'on the top of the mountains.' Ay! but this\nwill come of it, 'The fruit thereof shall shake like Lebanon,' and the\ngreat harvest of benediction or of curse, of joy or of sorrow, will\ncome from the minute seeds that are sown in the great trifles of our\ndaily life.\n\nLet us learn the lesson, too, of quiet confidence in Him in whose\nhands the whole puzzling, overwhelming mystery lies. If a man once\nbegins to think of how utterly incalculable the consequences of the\nsmallest and most commonplace of his deeds may be, how they may run\nout into all eternity, and like divergent lines may enclose a space\nthat becomes larger and wider the further they travel; if, I say, a\nman once begins to indulge in thoughts like these, it is difficult for\nhim to keep himself calm and sane at all, unless he believes in the\ngreat loving Providence that lies above all, and shapes the\nvicissitude and mystery of life. We can leave all in His hands--and if\nwe are wise we shall do so--to whom _great_ and _small_ are terms that\nhave no meaning; and who looks upon men's lives, not according to the\napparent magnitude of the deeds with which they are filled, but simply\naccording to the motive from which, and the purpose towards which,\nthese deeds were done.\n\nII. Then, still further, take this other lesson, which lies very\nplainly here--the blessedness and honour of helping Jesus Christ. If\nwe turn to the story of the Crucifixion, in John's Gospel, we find\nthat the narratives of the three other Gospels are, in some points,\nsupplemented by it. In reference to our Lord's bearing of the Cross,\nwe are informed by John that when He left the judgment hall He was\ncarrying it Himself, as was the custom with criminals under the Roman\nlaw. The heavy cross was laid on the shoulder, at the intersection of\nits arms and stem, one of the arms hanging down in front of the\nbearer's body, and the long upright trailing behind.\n\nApparently our Lord's physical strength, sorely tried by a night of\nexcitement and the hearings in the High priest's palace and before\nPilate, as well as by the scourging, was unequal to the task of\ncarrying, albeit for that short passage, the heavy weight. And there\nis a little hint of that sort in the context. In the verse before my\ntext we read, 'They led Jesus out to crucify Him,' and in the verse\nafter, 'they bring,' or _bear_ 'Him to the place Golgotha,' as if,\nwhen the procession began, they led Him, and before it ended they had\nto carry Him, His weakness having become such that He Himself could\nnot sustain the weight of His cross or of His own enfeebled limbs. So,\nwith some touch of pity in their rude hearts, or more likely with\nprofessional impatience of delay, and eager to get their task over,\nthe soldiers lay hold of this stranger, press him into the service and\nmake him carry the heavy upright, which trailed on the ground behind\nJesus. And so they pass on to the place of execution.\n\nVery reverently, and with few words, one would touch upon the physical\nweakness of the Master. Still, it does not do us any harm to try to\nrealise how very marked was the collapse of His physical nature, and\nto remember that that collapse was not entirely owing to the pressure\nupon Him of the mere fact of physical death; and that it was still\nless a failure of His will, or like the abject cowardice of some\ncriminals who have had to be dragged to the scaffold, and helped up\nits steps; but that the reason why His flesh failed was very largely\nbecause there was laid upon Him the mysterious burden of the world's\nsin. Christ's demeanour in the act of death, in such singular contrast\nto the calm heroism and strength of hundreds who have drawn all their\nheroism and strength from Him, suggests to us that, looking upon His\nsufferings, we look upon something the significance of which does not\nlie on the surface; and the extreme pressure of which is to be\naccounted for by that blessed and yet solemn truth of prophecy and\nGospel alike--'The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.'\n\nBut, apart from that, which does not enter properly into my present\ncontemplations, let us remember that though changed in form, very\ntruly and really in substance, this blessedness and honour of helping\nJesus Christ is given to us; and is demanded from us, too, if we are\nHis disciples. He is despised and set at nought still. He is crucified\nafresh still. There are many men in this day who scoff at Him, mock\nHim, deny His claims, seek to cast Him down from His throne, rebel\nagainst His dominion. It is an easy thing to be a disciple, when all\nthe crowd is crying 'Hosanna!' It is a much harder thing to be a\ndisciple when the crowd, or even when the influential cultivated\nopinion of a generation, is crying 'Crucify Him! crucify Him!' And\nsome of you Christian men and women have to learn the lesson that if\nyou are to be Christians you must be Christ's companions when His back\nis at the wall as well as when men are exalting and honouring Him,\nthat it is your business to confess Him when men deny Him, to stand by\nHim when men forsake Him, to avow Him when the avowal is likely to\nbring contempt upon you from some people, and thus, in a very real\nsense, to bear His Cross after Him. 'Let us go forth unto Him without\nthe camp, bearing His reproach';--the tail end of His Cross, which is\nthe lightest! He has borne the heaviest end on His own shoulders; but\nwe have to ally ourselves with that suffering and despised Christ if\nwe are to be His disciples.\n\nI do not dwell upon the lesson often drawn from this story, as if it\ntaught us to 'take up _our_ cross daily and follow Him.' That is\nanother matter, and yet is closely connected with that about which I\nspeak; but what I say is, Christ's Cross has to be carried to-day; and\nif we have not found out that it has, let us ask ourselves if we are\nChristians at all. There will be hostility, alienation, a comparative\ncoolness, and absence of a full sense of sympathy with you, in many\npeople, if you are a true Christian. You will come in for a share of\ncontempt from the wise and the cultivated of this generation, as in\nall generations. The mud that is thrown after the Master will spatter\nyour faces too, to some extent; and if you are walking with Him you\nwill be, to the extent of your communion with Him, objects of the\naversion with which many men regard Him. Stand to your colours. Do not\nbe ashamed of Him in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation.\n\nAnd there is yet another way in which this honour of helping the Lord\nis given to us. As in His weakness He needed some one to aid Him to\nbear His Cross, so in His glory He needs our help to carry out the\npurposes for which the Cross was borne. The paradox of a man's\ncarrying the Cross of Him who carried the world's burden is repeated\nin another form. He needs nothing, and yet He needs us. He needs\nnothing, and yet He needed that ass which was tethered at 'the place\nwhere two ways met,' in order to ride into Jerusalem upon it. He does\nnot need man's help, and yet He does need it, and He asks for it. And\nthough He bore Simon the Cyrenian's sins 'in His own body on the\ntree,' He needed Simon the Cyrenian to help Him to bear the tree, and\nHe needs us to help Him to spread throughout the world the blessed\nconsequences of that Cross and bitter Passion. So to us all is granted\nthe honour, and from us all are required the sacrifice and the\nservice, of helping the suffering Saviour.\n\nIII. Another of the lessons which may very briefly be drawn from this\nstory is that of the perpetual recompense and record of the humblest\nChristian work. There were different degrees of criminality, and\ndifferent degrees of sympathy with Him, if I may use the word, in that\ncrowd that stood round the Master. The criminality varied from the\nhighest degree of violent malignity in the Scribes and Pharisees, down\nto the lowest point of ignorance, and therefore all but entire\ninnocence, on the part of the Roman legionaries, who were merely the\nmechanical instruments of the order given, and stolidly 'watched Him\nthere,' with eyes which saw nothing.\n\nOn the other hand, there were all grades of service and help and\nsympathy, from the vague emotions of the crowd who beat their breasts,\nand the pity of the daughters of Jerusalem, or the kindly-meant help\nof the soldiers, who would have moistened the parched lips, to the\nheroic love of the women at the Cross, whose ministry was not ended\neven with His life. But surely the most blessed share in that day's\ntragedy was reserved for Simon, whose bearing of the Cross may have\nbeen compulsory at first, but became, ere it was ended, willing\nservice. But whatever were the degrees of recognition of Christ's\ncharacter, and of sympathy with the meaning of His sufferings, yet the\nsmallest and most transient impulse of loving gratitude that went out\ntowards Him was rewarded then, and is rewarded for ever, by blessed\nresults in the heart that feels it.\n\nBesides these results, service for Christ is recompensed, as in the\ninstance before us, by a perpetual memorial. How little Simon knew\nthat 'wherever in the whole world this gospel was preached, there\nalso, this that _he_ had done should be told for a memorial of _him_!'\nHow little he understood when he went back to his rural lodging that\nnight, that he had written his name high up on the tablet of the\nworld's memory, to be legible for ever. Why, men have fretted their\nwhole lives away to win what this man won, and knew nothing of--one\nline in the chronicle of fame.\n\nSo we may say, it shall be always, 'I will never forget any of their\nworks.' We may not leave our deeds inscribed in any records that men\ncan read. What of that, If they are written in letters of light in the\n'Lamb's Book of Life,' to be read out by Him before His Father and the\nholy angels, in that last great day? We may not leave any separable\ntraces of our services, any more than the little brook that comes down\nsome gulley on the hillside flows separate from its sisters, with whom\nit has coalesced, in the bed of the great river, or in the rolling,\nboundless ocean, What of that so long as the work, in its\nconsequences, shall last? Men that sow some great prairie broadcast\ncannot go into the harvest-field and say, 'I sowed the seed from which\nthat ear came, and you the seed from which this one sprang.' But the\nwaving abundance belongs to them all, and each may be sure that his\nwork survives and is glorified there,--'that he that soweth and he\nthat reapeth may rejoice together.' So a perpetual remembrance is sure\nfor the smallest Christian service.\n\nIV. The last lesson that I would draw is, let us learn from this\nincident the blessed results of contact with the suffering Christ.\nSimon the Cyrenian apparently knew nothing about Jesus Christ when the\nCross was laid on his shoulders. He would be reluctant to undertake\nthe humiliating task, and would plod along behind Him for a while,\nsullen and discontented, but by degrees be touched by more of\nsympathy, and get closer and closer to the Sufferer. And if he stood\nby the Cross when it was fixed, and saw all that transpired there, no\nwonder if, at last, after more or less protracted thought and search,\nhe came to understand who He was that he had helped, and to yield\nhimself to Him wholly.\n\nYes! dear brethren, Christ's great saying, 'I, if I be lifted up, will\ndraw all men unto Me,' began to be fulfilled when He began to be\nlifted up. The centurion, the thief, this man Simon, by looking on the\nCross, learned the Crucified.\n\nAnd it is the only way by which any of us will ever learn the true\nmystery and miracle of Christ's great and loving Being and work. I\nbeseech you, take your places there behind Him, near His Cross; gazing\nupon Him till your hearts melt, and you, too, learn that He is your\nLord, and your Saviour, and your God. The Cross of Jesus Christ\ndivides men into classes as the Last Day will. It, too, parts\nmen--'sheep' to the right hand, 'goats' to the left. If there was a\npenitent, there was an impenitent thief; if there was a convinced\ncenturion, there were gambling soldiers; if there were hearts touched\nwith compassion, there were mockers who took His very agonies and\nflung them in His face as a refutation of His claims. On the day when\nthat Cross was reared on Calvary it began to be what it has been ever\nsince, and is at this moment to every soul who hears the Gospel, 'a\nsavour of life unto life, or of death unto death.' Contact with the\nsuffering Christ will either bind you to His service, and fill you\nwith His Spirit, or it will harden your hearts, and make you tenfold\nmore selfish--that is to say, 'tenfold more a child of hell'--than you\nwere before you saw and heard of that divine meekness of the suffering\nChrist. Look to Him, I beseech you, who bears what none can help Him\nto carry, the burden of the world's sin. Let Him bear yours, and yield\nto Him your grateful obedience, and then take up your cross daily, and\nbear the light burden of self-denying service to Him who has borne the\nheavy load of sin for you and all mankind.\n\n\n\nTHE INCREDULOUS DISCIPLES\n\n\n'And when the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of\nJames, and Salome, had bought sweet spices, that they might come and\nanoint Him. 2. And very early in the morning, the first day of the\nweek, they came unto the sepulchre at the rising of the sun. 3. And\nthey said among themselves, Who shall roll us away the stone from the\ndoor of the sepulchre? 4. And when they looked, they saw that the\nstone was rolled away: for it was very great. 6. And entering into the\nsepulchre, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, clothed in\na long white garment; and they were affrighted. 6. And he saith unto\nthem, Be not affrighted: Ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was\ncrucified: He is risen; He is not here: behold the place where they\nlaid Him. 7. But go your way, tell His disciples and Peter that He\ngoeth before yon into Galilee: there shall ye see Him, as He said unto\nyou. 8. And they went out quickly, and fled from the sepulchre; for\nthey trembled and were amazed: neither said they anything to any man;\nfor they were afraid. 9. Now, when Jesus was risen early the first day\nof the week, He appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom He had\ncast seven devils. 10. And she went and told them that had been with\nHim, as they mourned and wept. 11. And they, when they had heard that\nHe was alive, and had been seen of her, believed not. 12. After that\nHe appeared in another form unto two of them, as they walked, and went\ninto the country. 13. And they went and told it unto the residue:\nneither believed they them.'--Mark xvi. 1-13.\n\nIt is not my business here to discuss questions of harmonising or of\ncriticism. I have only to deal with the narrative as it stands. Its\npeculiar character is very plain. The manner in which the first\ndisciples learned the fact of the Resurrection, and the disbelief with\nwhich they received it, much rather than the Resurrection itself, come\ninto view in this section. The disciples, and not the risen Lord, are\nshown us. There is nothing here of the earthquake, or of the\ndescending angel, or of the terrified guard, or of our Lord's\nappearance to the women. The two appearances to Mary Magdalene and to\nthe travellers to Emmaus, which, in the hands of John and Luke, are so\npathetic and rich, are here mentioned with the utmost brevity, for the\nsake chiefly of insisting on the disbelief of the disciples who heard\nof them. Mark's theme is mainly what they thought of the testimony to\nthe Resurrection.\n\nI. He shows us, first, bewildered love and sorrow. We leave the\nquestion whether this group of women is the same as that of which Luke\nrecords that Joanna was one, as well as the other puzzle as to\nharmonising the notes of time in the Evangelists. May not the\ndifference between the time of starting and that of arrival solve some\nof the difficulty? When all the notes are more or less vague, and\nrefer to the time of transition from dark to day, when every moment\npartakes of both and may be differently described as belonging to\neither, is precision to be expected? In the whirl of agitation of that\nmorning, would any one be at leisure to take much note of the exact\nminute? Are not these 'discrepancies' much more valuable as\nconfirmation of the story than precise accord would have been? It is\nbetter to try to understand the feelings of that little band than to\ncarp at such trifles.\n\nSorrow wakes early, and love is impatient to bring its tribute. So we\ncan see these three women, leaving their abode as soon as the doleful\ngrey of morning permitted, stealing through the silent streets, and\nreaching the rock-cut tomb while the sun was rising over Olivet. Where\nwere Salome's ambitious hopes for her two sons now? Dead, and buried\nin the Master's grave. The completeness of the women's despair, as\nwell as the faithfulness of their love, is witnessed by their purpose.\nThey had come to anoint the body of Him to whom in life they had\nministered. They had no thought of a resurrection, plainly as they had\nbeen told of it. The waves of sorrow had washed the remembrance of His\nassurances on that subject clean out of their minds. Truth that is\nonly half understood, however plainly spoken, is always forgotten when\nthe time to apply it comes. We are told that the disbelief of the\ndisciples in the Resurrection, after Christ's plain predictions of it,\nis 'psychologically impossible.' Such big words are imposing, but the\nobjection is shallow. These disciples are not the only people who\nforgot in the hour of need the thing which it most concerned them to\nremember, and let the clouds of sorrow hide starry promises which\nwould have turned mourning into dancing, and night into day. Christ's\nsayings about His resurrection were not understood in their, as it\nappears to us, obvious meaning when spoken. No wonder, then, that they\nwere not expected to be fulfilled in their obvious meaning when He was\ndead. We shall have a word to say presently about the value of the\nfact that there was no anticipation of resurrection on the part of the\ndisciples. For the present it is enough to note how these three loving\nsouls confess their hopelessness by their errand. Did they not know,\ntoo, that Joseph and Nicodemus had been beforehand with them in their\nlabour of love? Apparently not. It might easily happen, in the\nconfusion and dispersion, that no knowledge of this had reached them;\nor perhaps sorrow and agitation had driven it out of their memories;\nor perhaps they felt that, whether others had done the same before or\nno, they must do it too, not because the loved form needed it, but\nbecause their hearts needed to do it. It was the love which must\nserve, not calculation of necessity, which loaded their hands with\ncostly spices. The living Christ was pleased with the 'odour of a\nsweet smell,' from the needless spices, meant to re-anoint the dead\nChrist, and accepted the purpose, though it came from ignorance and\nwas never carried out, since its deepest root was love, genuine,\nthough bewildered.\n\nThe same absence of 'calm practical common sense' is seen in the too\nlate consideration, which never occurred to the three women till they\nwere getting near the tomb, as to how to get into it. They do not seem\nto have heard of the guard; but they know that the stone is too heavy\nfor them to move, and none of the men among the disciples had been\ntaken into their confidence. 'Why did they not think of that before?\nwhat a want of foresight!' says the cool observer. 'How beautifully\ntrue to nature!' says a wiser judgment. To obey the impulse of love\nand sorrow without thinking, and then to be arrested on their road by\na difficulty, which they might have thought of at first, but did not\ntill they were close to it, is surely just what might have been\nexpected of such mourners. Mark gives a graphic picture in that one\nword 'looking up,' and follows it with picturesque present tenses.\nThey had been looking down or at each other in perplexity, when they\nlifted their eyes to the tomb, which was possibly on an eminence. What\na flash of wonder would pass through their minds when they saw it\nopen! What that might signify they would be eager to hurry to find\nout; but, at all events, their difficulty was at an end. When love to\nChrist is brought to a stand in its venturous enterprises by\ndifficulties occurring for the first time to the mind, it is well to\ngo close up to them; and it often happens that when we do, and look\nsteadily at them, we see that they are rolled away, and the passage\ncleared which we feared was hopelessly barred.\n\nII. The calm herald of the Resurrection and the amazed hearers.\nApparently Mary Magdalene had turned back as soon as she saw the\nopened tomb, and hurried to tell that the body had been carried off,\nas she supposed. The guard had also probably fled before this; and so\nthe other two women enter the vestibule, and there find the angel.\nSometimes one angel, sometimes two, sometimes none, were visible\nthere. The variation in their numbers in the various narratives is not\nto be regarded as an instance of 'discrepancy.' Many angels hovered\nround the spot where the greatest wonder of the universe was to be\nseen, 'eagerly desiring to look into' that grave. The beholder's eye\nmay have determined their visibility. Their number may have\nfluctuated. Mark does not use the word 'angel' at all, but leaves us\nto infer what manner of being he was who first proclaimed the\nResurrection.\n\nHe tells of his youth, his attitude, and his attire. The angelic life\nis vigorous, progressive, buoyant, and alien from decay. Immortal\nyouth belongs to them who 'excel in strength' because they 'do his\ncommandments.' That waiting minister shows us what the children of the\nResurrection shall be, and so his presence as well as his speech\nexpounds the blessed mystery of our life in the risen Lord. His serene\nattitude of sitting 'on the right side' is not only a vivid touch of\ndescription, but is significant of restfulness and fixed\ncontemplation, as well as of the calmness of a higher life. That still\nwatcher knows too much to be agitated; but the less he is moved, the\nmore he adores. His quiet contrasts with and heightens the impression\nof the storm of conflicting feelings in the women's tremulous natures.\nHis garments symbolise purity and repose. How sharply the difference\nbetween heaven and earth is given in the last words of verse 5! They\nwere 'amazed,' swept out of themselves in an ecstasy of bewilderment\nin which hope had no place. Terror, surprise, curiosity, wonder, blank\nincapacity to know what all this meant, made chaos in them.\n\nThe angel's words are a succession of short sentences, which have a\ncertain dignity, and break up the astounding revelation he has to make\ninto small pieces, which the women's bewildered minds can grasp. He\ncalms their tumult of spirit. He shows them that he knows their\nerrand. He adoringly names his Lord and theirs by the names recalling\nHis manhood, His lowly home, and His ignominious death. He lingers on\nthe thought, to him covering so profound a mystery of divine love,\nthat his Lord had been born, had lived in the obscure village, and\ndied on the Cross. Then, in one word, he proclaims the stupendous fact\nof His resurrection as His own act--'He is risen.' This crown of all\nmiracles, which brings life and immortality to light, and changes the\nwhole outlook of humanity, which changes the Cross into victory, and\nwithout which Christianity is a dream and a ruin, is announced in a\nsingle word--the mightiest ever spoken save by Christ's own lips. It\nwas fitting that angel lips should proclaim the Resurrection, as they\ndid the Nativity, though in either 'He taketh not hold of angels,' and\nthey had but a secondary share in the blessings. Yet that empty grave\nopened to 'principalities and powers in heavenly places' a new\nunfolding of the manifold wisdom and love of God.\n\nThe angel--a true evangelist--does not linger on the wondrous\nintimation, but points to the vacant place, which would have been so\ndrear but for his previous words, and bids them approach to verify his\nassurance, and with reverent wonder to gaze on the hallowed and now\nhappy spot. A moment is granted for feeling to overflow, and certainty\nto be attained, and then the women are sent on their errand. Even the\njoy of that gaze is not to be selfishly prolonged, while others are\nsitting in sorrow for want of what they know. That is the law for all\nthe Christian life. First make sure work of one's own possession of\nthe truth, and then hasten to tell it to those who need it.\n\n'And Peter'--Mark alone gives us this. The other Evangelists might\npass it by; but how could Peter ever forget the balm which that\nmessage of pardon and restoration brought to him, and how could\nPeter's mouthpiece leave it out? Is there anything in the Gospels more\nbeautiful, or fuller of long-suffering and thoughtful love, than that\nmessage from the risen Saviour to the denier? And how delicate the\nlove which, by calling him Peter, not Simon, reinstates him in his\nofficial position by anticipation, even though in the subsequent full\nrestoration scene by the lake he is thrice called Simon, before the\ncomplete effacement of the triple denial by the triple confession!\n\nGalilee is named as the rendezvous, and the word employed, 'goeth\nbefore you,' is appropriate to the Shepherd in front of His flock.\nThey had been 'scattered,' but are to be drawn together again. He is\nto 'precede' them there, thus lightly indicating the new form of their\nrelations to Him, marked during the forty days by a distance which\nprepared for his final withdrawal. Galilee was the home of most of\nthem, and had been the field of His most continuous labours. There\nwould be many disciples there, who would gather to see their risen\nLord ('five hundred at once'); and there, rather than in Jerusalem\nwhich had slain Him, was it fitting that He should show Himself to His\nfriends. The appearances in Jerusalem were all within a week (if we\nexcept the Ascension), and the connection in which Mark introduces\nthem (if verse 14 be his) seems to treat them as forced on Christ by\nthe disciples' unbelief, rather than as His original intention. It\nlooks as if He meant to show Himself in the city only to one or two,\nsuch as Mary, Peter, and some others, but to reserve His more public\nappearance for Galilee.\n\nHow did the women receive the message? Mark represents them as\ntrembling in body and in an ecstasy in mind, and as hurrying away\nsilent with terror. Matthew says that they were full of 'fear and\ngreat joy,' and went in haste to tell the disciples. In the whirl of\nfeeling, there were opposites blended or succeeding one another; and\nthe one Evangelist lays hold of one set, and the other of the other.\nIt is as impossible to catalogue the swift emotions of such a moment\nas to separate and tabulate the hues of sunrise. The silence which\nMark tells of can only refer to their demeanour as they 'fled.' His\nobject is to bring out the very imperfect credence which, at the best,\nwas given to the testimony that Christ was risen, and to paint the\ntumult of feeling in the breasts of its first recipients. His picture\nis taken from a different angle from Matthew's; but Matthew's contains\nthe same elements, for he speaks of 'fear,' though he completes it by\n'joy.'\n\nIII. The incredulity of the disciples. The two appearances to Mary\nMagdalene and the travellers to Emmaus are introduced mainly to record\nthe unbelief of the disciples. A strange choice that was, of the woman\nwho had been rescued from so low a debasement, to be first to see Him!\nBut her former degradation was the measure of her love. Longing eyes,\nthat have been washed clean by many a tear of penitent gratitude, are\npurged to see Jesus; and a yearning heart ever brings Him near. The\nunbelief of the story of the two from Emmaus seems to conflict with\nLuke's account, which tells that they were met by the news of Christ's\nappearance to Simon. But the two statements are not contradictory. If\nwe remember the excitement and confusion of mind in which they were,\nwe shall not wonder if belief and unbelief followed each other, like\nthe flow and recoil of the waves. One moment they were on the crest of\nthe billows, and saw land ahead; the next they were down in the\ntrough, and saw only the melancholy surge. The very fact that Peter\nwas believed, might make them disbelieve the travellers; for how could\nJesus have been in Jerusalem and Emmaus at so nearly the same time?\n\nHowever the two narratives be reconciled, it remains obvious that the\nfirst disciples did not believe the first witnesses of the\nResurrection, and that their unbelief is an important fact. It bears\nvery distinctly on the worth of their subsequent conviction. It has\nspecial bearing on the most modern form of disbelief in the\nResurrection, which accounts for the belief of the first disciples on\nthe ground that they expected Christ to rise, and that they then\npersuaded themselves, in all good faith, that He had risen. That\nmonstrous theory is vulnerable at all points, but one sufficient\nanswer is--the disciples did not expect Christ to rise again, and were\nso far from it that they did not believe that He had risen when they\nwere told it. Their original unbelief is a strong argument for the\nreliableness of their final faith. What raised them from the stupor of\ndespair and incredulity? Only one answer is 'psychologically'\nreasonable: they at last believed because they saw. It is incredible\nthat they were conscious deceivers; for such lives as they lived, and\nsuch a gospel as they preached, never came from liars. It is as\nincredible that they were unconsciously mistaken; for they were wholly\nunprepared for the Resurrection, and sturdily disbelieved all\nwitnesses for it, till they saw with their own eyes, and had 'many\ninfallible proofs.' Let us be thankful for their unbelief and its\nrecord, and let us seek to possess the blessing of those 'that have\nnot seen, and yet have believed!'\n\n\n\nPERPETUAL YOUTH\n\n\n'And entering Into the sepulchre, they saw a young man sitting on the\nright side, clothed in a long white garment.'--Mark xvi. 5.\n\nMany great truths concerning Christ's death, and its worth to higher\norders of being, are taught by the presence of that angel form, clad\nin the whiteness of his own God-given purity, sitting in restful\ncontemplation in the dark house where the body of Jesus had lain.\n'Which things the angels desire to look into.' Many precious lessons\nof consolation and hope, too, lie in the wonderful words which he\nspake from his Lord and theirs to the weeping waiting women. But to\ntouch upon these ever so slightly would lead us too far from our more\nimmediate purpose.\n\nIt strikes one as very remarkable that this superhuman being should be\ndescribed as a '_young_ man.' Immortal youth, with all of buoyant\nenergy and fresh power which that attribute suggests, belongs to those\nbeings whom Scripture faintly shows as our elder brethren. No waste\ndecays their strength, no change robs them of forces which have ceased\nto increase. For them there never comes a period when memory is more\nthan hope. Age cannot wither them. As one of our modern mystics has\nsaid, hiding imaginative spiritualism under a crust of hard, dry\nmatter-of-fact, 'In heaven the oldest angels are the youngest.'\n\nWhat is true of them is true of God's children, who are 'accounted\nworthy to obtain that world and the resurrection from the dead,' for\n'they are equal unto the angels.' For believing and loving souls,\ndeath too is a birth. All who pass through it to God, shall, in deeper\nmeaning than lay in the words at first, 'return unto the days of their\nyouth'; and when the end comes, and they are 'clothed with their house\nfrom heaven,' they shall stand by the throne, like him who sat in the\nsepulchre, clothed with lustrous light and radiant with unchanging\nyouth.\n\nSuch a conception of the condition of the dead in Christ may be\nfollowed out in detail into many very elevating and strengthening\nthoughts. Let me attempt to set forth some of these now.\n\nI. The life of the faithful dead is eternal progress towards infinite\nperfection.\n\nFor body and for spirit the life of earth is a definite whole, with\ndistinct stages, which succeed each other in a well-marked order.\nThere are youth, and maturity, and decay--the slow climbing to the\nnarrow summit, a brief moment there in the streaming sunshine, and\nthen a sure and gradual descent into the shadows beneath. The same\nequable and constant motion urges the orb of our lives from morning to\nnoon, and from noon to evening. The glory of the dawning day, with its\ngolden clouds and its dewy freshness, its new awakened hopes and its\nunworn vigour, climbs by silent, inevitable stages to the hot noon.\nBut its ardours flame but for a moment; but for a moment does the sun\npoise itself on the meridian line, and the short shadow point to the\npole. The inexorable revolution goes on, and in due time come the\nmists and dying purples of evening and the blackness of night. The\nsame progress which brings April's perfumes burns them in the censer\nof the hot summer, and buries summer beneath the falling leaves, and\ncovers its grave with winter's snow.\n\n                 'Everything that grows\n  Holds in perfection but a little moment.'\n\nSo the life of man, being under the law of growth, is, in all its\nparts, subject to the consequent necessity of decline. And very\nswiftly does the direction change from ascending to descending. At\nfirst, and for a little while, the motion of the dancing stream, which\nbroadens as it runs, and bears us past fields each brighter and more\nenamelled with flowers than the one before it, is joyous; but the slow\ncurrent becomes awful as we are swept along when we would fain moor\nand land--and to some of us it comes to be tragic and dreadful at\nlast, as we sit helpless, and see the shore rush past and hear the\nroar of the falls in our ears, like some poor wretch caught in the\nglassy smoothness above Niagara, who has flung down the oars, and,\nclutching the gunwale with idle hands, sits effortless and breathless\ntill the plunge comes. Many a despairing voice has prayed as the sands\nran out, and joys fled, 'Sun, stand thou still on Gibeon; and thou,\nMoon, in the valley of Ajalon,' but in vain. Once the wish was\nanswered; but, for all other fighters, the twelve hours of the day\nmust suffice for victory and for joy. Time devours his own children.\nThe morning hours come to us with full hands and give, the evening\nhours come with empty hands and take; so that at the last 'naked shall\nhe return to go as he came.' Our earthly life runs through its\nsuccessive stages, and for it, in body and mind, old age is the child\nof youth.\n\nBut the perfect life of the dead in Christ has but one phase, youth.\nIt is growth without a limit and without decline. To say that they are\never young is the same thing as to say that their being never reaches\nits climax, that it is ever but entering on its glory; that is, as we\nhave said, that the true conception of their life is that of eternal\nprogress towards infinite perfection.\n\nFor what is the goal to which they tend? The likeness of God in\nChrist--all His wisdom, His love, His holiness. He is all theirs, and\nHis whole perfection is to be transfused into their growing greatness.\n'He is made unto them of God. wisdom, and righteousness, and salvation\nand redemption,' nor can they cease to grow till they have outgrown\nJesus and exhausted God. On the one hand is infinite perfection,\ndestined to be imparted to the redeemed spirit. On the other hand is a\ncapability of indefinite assimilation to, by reception of, that\ninfinite perfection. We have no reason to set bounds to the possible\nexpansion of the human spirit. If only there be fitting circumstances\nand an adequate impulse, it may have an endless growth. Such\ncircumstances and such impulse are given in the loving presence of\nChrist in glory. Therefore we look for an eternal life which shall\nnever reach a point beyond which no advance is possible. 'The path of\nthe just' in that higher state 'shineth more and more,' and never\ntouches the zenith. Here we float upon a landlocked lake, and on every\nside soon reach the bounding land; but there we are on a shoreless\nocean, and never hear any voice that says, 'Hitherto shalt thou come,\nand no farther.' Christ will be ever before us, the yet unattained end\nof our desires; Christ will be ever above us, fairer, wiser, holier,\nthan we; after unsummed eternities of advance there will yet stretch\nbefore us a shining way that leads to Him. The language, which was\noften breathed by us on earth in tones of plaintive confession, will\nbe spoken in heaven in gladness, 'Not as though I had attained, either\nwere perfect, but I follow after,' The promise that was spoken by Him\nin regard to our mortality will be repeated by Him in respect to our\ncelestial being, 'I am come that they might have life, and that they\nmight have it _more abundantly_.' And as this advance has no natural\nlimit, either in regard to our Pattern or to ourselves, there will be\nno reverse direction to ensue. Here the one process has its two\nopposite parts; the same impulse carries up to the summit and forces\ndown from it. But it is not so then. There growth will never merge\ninto decay, nor exacting hours come to recall the gifts, which their\nfree-handed sisters gave.\n\nThey who live in Christ, beyond the grave, begin with a relative\nperfection. They are thereby rendered capable of more complete\nChrist-likeness. The eye, by gazing into the day, becomes more\nrecipient of more light; the spirit cleaves closer to a Christ more\nfully apprehended and more deeply loved; the whole being, like a plant\nreaching up to the sunlight, grows by its yearning towards the light,\nand by the light towards which it yearns--lifts a stronger stem and\nspreads a broader leaf, and opens into immortal flowers tinted by the\nsunlight with its own colours. This blessed and eternal growth towards\nHim whom we possess, to begin with, and never can exhaust, is the\nperpetual youth of God's redeemed.\n\nWe ought not to think of those whom we have loved and lost as if they\nhad gone, carrying with them declining powers, and still bearing the\nmarks of this inevitable law of stagnation, and then of decay, under\nwhich they groaned here. Think of them rather as having, if they sleep\nin Jesus, reversed all this, as having carried with them, indeed, all\nthe gifts of matured experience and ripened wisdom which the slow\nyears bring, but likewise as having left behind all the weariness of\naccomplished aims, the monotony of a formed character, the rigidity of\nlimbs that have ceased to grow. Think of them as receiving again from\nthe hands of Christ much of which they were robbed by the lapse of\nyears. Think of them as then crowned with loving-kindness and\nsatisfied with good, so that 'their youth is renewed like the\neagle's.' Think of them as again joyous, with the joy of beginning a\ncareer, which has no term but the sum of all perfection in the\nlikeness of the infinite God. They rise like the song-bird, aspiring\nto the heavens, circling round, and ever higher, which 'singing still\ndoth soar, and soaring ever singeth'--up and up through the steadfast\nblue to the sun! 'Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the\nyoung men shall utterly fall; but they that wait upon the Lord shall\nrenew their strength.' They shall lose the marks of age as they grow\nin eternity, and they who have stood before the throne the longest\nshall be likest him who sat in the sepulchre young with immortal\nstrength, radiant with unwithering beauty.\n\nII. The life of the faithful dead recovers and retains the best\ncharacteristics of youth.\n\nEach stage of our earthly course has its own peculiar characteristics,\nas each zone of the world has its own vegetation and animal life. And,\nfor the most part, these characteristics cannot be anticipated in the\npreceding stage, nor prolonged into the succeeding. To some small\nextent they will bear transplanting, and he is nearest a perfect man\nwho carries into each period of his life some trace of the special\nbeauty of that which went before, making 'the child the father of the\nman,' and carrying deep into old age the simple self-forgetfulness of\nthe child and the energy of the youth. But this can only be partially\ndone by any effort; and even those whose happily constituted\ntemperaments make it comparatively easy for them, do often carry the\nweakness rather than the strength of the earlier into the later\nepochs. It is easier to be always childish than to be always\nchildlike. The immaturity and heedlessness of youth bear carriage\nbetter than the more precious vintages of that sunny land--its\nfreshness of eye and heart, its openness of mind, its energy of hand.\nEven when these are in any measure retained--beautiful as they are in\nold age--they are but too apt to be associated with an absence of the\nexcellences more proper to the later stages of life, and to involve a\nwant of patient judgment, of sagacious discrimination, of rooted\naffections, of prudent, persistent action. Beautiful indeed it is when\nthe grace of the child and the strength of the young man live on in\nthe fathers, and when the last of life encloses all that was good in\nall that went before. But miserable it is, and quite as frequent a\ncase, when grey hairs cover a childish brain, and an aged heart throbs\nwith the feverish passion of youthful blood. So for this life it is\ndifficult, and often not well, that youth should be prolonged into\nmanhood and old age.\n\nBut the thought is none the less true, that the perfection of our\nbeing requires the reappearance and the continuance of all that was\ngood in each successive stage of it in the past. The brightest aspects\nof youth will return to all who live in Jesus, beyond the grave, and\nwill be theirs for ever. Such a consideration branches out into many\nhappy anticipations, which we can but very cursorily touch on here.\n\nFor instance--Youth is the time for hope. The world then lies all\nbefore us, fair and untried. We have not learnt our own weakness by\nmany failures, nor the dread possibilities that lie in every future.\nThe past is too brief to occupy us long, and its furthest point too\nnear to be clothed in the airy purple, which draws the eye and stirs\nthe heart. We are conscious of increasing powers which crave for\noccupation. It seems impossible but that success and joy shall be\nours. So we live for a little while in a golden haze; we look down\nfrom our peak upon the virgin forests of a new world, that roll away\nto the shining waters in the west, and then we plunge into their mazes\nto hew out a path for ourselves, to slay the wild beasts, and to find\nand conquer rich lands. But soon we discover what hard work the march\nis, and what monsters lurk in the leafy coverts, and what diseases\nhover among the marshes, and how short a distance ahead we can see,\nand how far off it is to the treasure-cities that we dreamed of; and\nif at last we gain some cleared spot whence we can look forward, our\nweary eyes are searching at most for a place to rest, and all our\nhopes have dwindled to hopes of safety and repose. The day brings too\nmuch toil to leave us leisure for much anticipation. The journey has\nhad too many failures, too many wounds, too many of our comrades left\nto die in the forest glades, to allow of our expecting much. We plod\non, sometimes ready to faint, sometimes with lighter hearts, but not\nany more winged by hope as in the golden prime,--unless indeed for\nthose of us who have fixed our hopes on God, and so get through the\nmarch better, because, be it rough or smooth, long or short, He moves\nbefore us to guide, and all our ways lead to Him. But even for these\nthere comes, before very long, a time when they are weary of hoping\nfor much more here, and when the light of youth fades into common day.\nBe it so! They will get the faculty and the use of it back again in\nfar nobler fashion, when death has taken them away from all that is\ntransient, and faith has through death given for their possession and\ntheir expectation, the certitudes of eternity. It will be worth while\nto look forward again, when we are again standing at the beginning of\na life. It will be possible once more to hope, when disappointments\nare all past. A boundless future stretching before us, of which we\nknow that it is all blessed, and that we shall reach all its\nblessedness, will give back to hearts that have long ceased to drink\nof the delusive cup which earthly hope offered to their lips, the joy\nof living in a present, made bright by the certain anticipation of a\nyet brighter future. Losing nothing by our constant progress, and\ncertain to gain all which we foresee, we shall remember and be glad,\nwe shall hope and be confident. With 'the past unsighed for, and the\nfuture sure,' we shall have that magic gift, which earth's\ndisappointments dulled, quickened by the sure mercies of the heavens.\n\nAgain, youth has mostly a certain keenness of relish for life which\nvanishes only too soon. There are plenty of our young men and women\ntoo, of this day, no doubt, who are as _blas\u00e9_ and wearied before they\nare out of their 'teens as if they were fifty. So much the sadder for\nthem, so much the worse for the social state which breeds such\nmonsters. For monsters they are: there ought to be in youth a sense of\nfresh wonder undimmed by familiarity, the absence of satiety, a joy in\njoyful things because they are new as well as gladsome. The poignancy\nof these early delights cannot long survive. Custom stales them all,\nand wraps everything in its robe of ashen grey. We get used to what\nwas once so fresh and wonderful, and do not care very much about\nanything any more. We smile pitying smiles--sadder than any tears--at\n'boyish enthusiasm,' and sometimes plume ourselves on having come to\n'years which bring the philosophic mind'; and all the while we know\nthat we have lost a great gift, which here can never come back any\nmore.\n\nBut what if that eager freshness of delight may yet be ours once\nagain? What if the eternal youth of the heavens means, amongst other\nthings, that _there_ are pleasures which always satisfy but never\ncloy? What if, in perpetual advance, we find and keep for ever that\never new gladness, which here we vainly seek in perpetual distraction?\nWhat if constant new influxes of divine blessedness, and constant new\nvisions of God, keep in constant exercise that sense of wonder, which\nmakes so great a part of the power of youth? What if, after all that\nwe have learned and all that we have received, we still have to say,\n'It doth not yet appear what we shall be'? Then, I think, in very\nprofound and blessed sense, heaven would be perpetual youth.\n\nI need not pause to speak of other characteristics of that period of\nlife--such as its enthusiasm, its life by impulse rather than by\nreason, its buoyant energy and delight in action. All these gifts, so\nlittle cared for when possessed, so often misused, so irrevocably gone\nwith a few brief years, so bitterly bewailed, will surely be found\nagain, where God keeps all the treasures that He gives and we let\nfall. For transient enthusiasm, heaven will give us back a fervour of\nlove like that of the seraphs, that have burned before His throne\nunconsumed and undecaying for unknown ages. For a life of instinctive\nimpulse, we shall titan receive a life in which impulse is ever\nparallel with the highest law, and, doing only what we would, we shall\ndo only what we ought. For energy which wanes as the years wax, and\ndelight in action which is soon worn down into mechanical routine of\ntoil, there will be bestowed strength akin to His 'who fainteth not,\nneither is weary.' All of which maturity and old age robbed us is\ngiven back in nobler form. All the limitation and weakness which they\nbrought, the coldness, the monotony, the torpor, the weariness, will\ndrop away. But we shall keep all the precious things which they\nbrought us. None of the calm wisdom, the ripened knowledge, the\nfull-summed experience, the powers of service acquired in life's long\napprenticeship, will be taken from us.\n\nAll will be changed indeed. All will be cleansed of the impurity which\nattaches to all. All will be accepted and crowned, not by reason of\nits goodness, but by reason of Christ's sacrifice, which is the\nchannel of God's mercy. Though in themselves unworthy, and having\nnothing fit for the heavens, yet the souls that trust in Jesus, the\nLord of Life, shall bear into their glory the characters which by His\ngrace they wrought out here on earth, transfigured and perfected, but\nstill the same. And to make up that full-summed completeness, will be\ngiven to them at once the perfection of all the various stages through\nwhich they passed on earth. The perfect man in the heavens will\ninclude the graces of childhood, the energies of youth, the\nsteadfastness of manhood, the calmness of old age; as on some tropical\ntrees, blooming in more fertile soil and quickened by a hotter sun\nthan ours, you may see at once bud, blossom, and fruit--the expectancy\nof spring, and the maturing promise of summer, and the fulfilled\nfruition of autumn--hanging together on the unexhausted bough.\n\nIII. The faithful dead shall live in a body that cannot grow old.\n\nScripture assures us, I believe, that the dead in Christ are now in\nfull, conscious enjoyment of His presence, and of all the blessedness\nthat to dwell in Christ can bring to a spirit. All, then, which we\nhave been saying applies to the present condition of those who sleep\nin Jesus. As concerning toil and trouble they take rest in sleep, as\nconcerning contact with an outer world they slumber untroubled by its\nnoise; but as concerning their communion with their Lord they, like\nus, 'whether we wake or sleep, live together with Him.' But we know\ntoo, from Scripture, that the dead in Christ wait for the resurrection\nof the body, without which they cannot be perfected, nor restored to\nfull activity of outward life in connection with an external creation.\n\nThe lesson which we venture to draw from this text enforces the\nfamiliar teaching of Scripture as to that body of glory--that it\ncannot decay, nor grow old. In this respect, too, eternal youth may be\nours. Here we have a bodily organisation which, like all other living\nbodies, goes through its appointed series of changes, wastes in\neffort, and so needs reparation by food and rest, dies in growing, and\nfinally waxes old and dissolves. In such a house, a man cannot be ever\nyoung. The dim eye and shaking hand, the wrinkled face and thin grey\nhairs cannot but age the spirit, since they weaken its instruments.\n\nIf the redeemed of the Lord are to be always young in spirit, they\nmust have a body which knows no weariness, which needs no repose,\nwhich has no necessity of dying impressed upon it. And such a body\nScripture plainly tells us will belong to those who are Christ's, at\nHis coming. Our present acquaintance with the conditions of life makes\nthat great promise seem impossible to many learned men amongst us. And\nI know not that anything but acquaintance with the sure word of God\nand with a risen Lord will make that seeming impossibility again a\ngreat promise for us. If we believe it at all, I think we must believe\nit because the resurrection of Jesus Christ says so, and because the\nScriptures put it into articulate words as the promise of His\nresurrection. 'Ye do err,' said Christ long ago, to those who denied a\nresurrection, 'not knowing the Scriptures nor the power of God.' Then\nknowledge of the Scriptures leads to belief in the resurrection of the\ndead, and the remembrance of our ignorance of the power of God\ndisposes of all the doubts which are raised on the supposition that\nHis present works are the pattern of His future ones, or the limits of\nHis unexhausted energy.\n\nWe are content then to fall back on Scripture words, and to believe in\nthe resurrection of the dead simply because it is, as we believe, told\nus from God.\n\nFor all who accept the message, this hope shines clear, of a\n_building_ of God imperishable and solid, when contrasted with the\n_tent_ in which we dwell here--of a body 'raised in incorruption,'\n'clothed with immortality,' and so, as in many another phrase,\ndeclared to be exempt from decay, and therefore vigorous with\nunchanging youth. How that comes we cannot tell. Whether because that\nbody of glory has no proclivity to mutation and decay, or whether the\nperpetual volition and power of God counteract such tendency and give,\nas the Book of Revelation says,' to eat of the tree of life which is\nin the midst of the paradise of God'--matters not at all. The truth of\nthe promise remains, though we have no means of knowing more than the\nfact, that we shall receive a body, fashioned like His who dieth no\nmore. There shall be no weariness nor consequent need for\nrepose--'they rest not day nor night.' There shall be no faintness nor\nconsequent craving for sustenance-'they shall hunger no more neither\nthirst any more.' There shall be no disease--'the inhabitant thereof\nshall no more say, I am sick,' 'neither can they die any more, for\nthey are equal unto the angels.'\n\nAnd if all this is true, that glorious and undecaying body will then\nbe the equal and fit instrument of the perfected spirit, not, as it is\nnow, the adequate instrument only of the natural life. The deepest\nemotions then will be capable of expression, nor as now, like some\nrushing tide, choke the floodgates through whose narrow aperture they\ntry to press, and be all tossed into foam in the attempt. We shall\nthen seem what we are, as we shall also be what we ought. All outward\nthings will then be fully and clearly communicated to the spirit, for\nthat glorious body will be a perfect instrument of knowledge. All that\nwe desire to do we shall then do, nor be longer tortured with\ntremulous hands which can never draw the perfect circle that we plan,\nand stammering lips that will not obey the heart, and throbbing brain\nthat _will_ ache when we would have it clear. The ever-young spirit\nwill have for true yokefellow a body that cannot tire, nor grow old,\nnor die.\n\nThe aged saints of God shall rise then in youthful beauty. More than\nthe long-vanished comeliness shall on that day rest on faces that were\nhere haggard with anxiety, and pinched with penury and years. There\nwill be no more palsied hands, no more scattered grey hairs, no more\ndim and horny eyes, no more stiffened muscles and slow throbbing\nhearts. 'It is sown in weakness, it is raised in power.' It is sown in\ndecaying old age, it is raised in immortal youth. His servants shall\nstand in that day among 'the young-eyed cherubim,' and be like them\nfor ever. So we may think of the dead in Christ.\n\nBut do not forget that Christian faith may largely do for us here what\nGod's grace and power will do for us in heaven, and that even now we\nmay possess much of this great gift of perpetual youth. If we live for\nChrist by faith in Him, then may we carry with us all our days the\nenergy, the hope, the joy of the morning tide, and be children in evil\nwhile men in understanding. With unworn and fresh heart we may 'bring\nforth fruit in old age,' and have the crocus in the autumnal fields as\nwell as in the spring-time of our lives. So blessed, we may pass to a\npeaceful end, because we hold His hand who makes the path smooth and\nthe heart quiet. Trust yourselves, my brethren, to the immortal love\nand perfect work of the Divine Saviour, and by His dear might your\ndays will advance by peaceful stages, whereof each gathers up and\ncarries forward the blessings of all that went before, to a death\nwhich shall be a birth. Its chill waters will be as a fountain of\nyouth from which you will rise, beautiful and strong, to begin an\nimmortality of growing power. A Christian life on earth solves partly,\na Christian life in heaven solves completely, the problem of perpetual\nyouth. For those who die in His faith and fear, 'better is the end\nthan the beginning, and the day of one's death than the day of one's\nbirth.' Christ keeps the good wine until the close of the feast.\n\n  'Such is Thy banquet, dearest Lord;\n     O give us grace, to cast\n  Our lot with Thine, to trust Thy word,\n     And keep our best till last.'\n\n\n\nTHE ANGEL IN THE TOMB\n\n\n'They saw a young man sitting on the right side, clothed in a long\nwhite garment; and they were aifrighted. 6. And he saith unto them, Be\nnot affrighted. Ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucified: He is\nrisen; He is not here; behold the place where they laid Him.'--Mark\nxvi. 5,6.\n\nEach of the four Evangelists tells the story of the Resurrection from\nhis own special point of view. None of them has any record of the\nactual fact, because no eye saw it. Before the earthquake and the\nangelic descent, before the stone was rolled away, while the guards\nperhaps slept, and before Love and Sorrow had awakened, Christ rose.\nAnd deep silence covers the event. But in treating of the subsequent\nportion of the narrative, each Evangelist stands at his own point of\nview. Mark has scarcely anything to say about our Lord's appearance\nafter the Resurrection. His object seems mainly to be to describe\nrather the manner in which the report of the Resurrection affected the\ndisciples, and so he makes prominent the bewildered astonishment of\nthe women. If the latter part of this chapter be his, he passes by the\nappearance of our Lord to Mary Magdalene and to the two travellers to\nEmmaus with just a word for each--contrasting singularly with the\nlovely narrative of the former in John's Gospel and with the detailed\naccount of the latter in Luke's. He emphasises the incredulity of the\nTwelve after receiving the reports, and in like manner he lays stress\nupon the unbelief and hardness of heart which the Lord rebuked.\n\nSo, then, this incident, the appearance of the angel, the portion of\nhis message to the women which we have read, and the way in which the\nfirst testimony to the Resurrection affected its hearers, may suggest\nto us some thoughts which, though subsidiary to the main teaching of\nthe Resurrection, may yet be important in their place.\n\nI. Note the first witness to the Resurrection.\n\nThere are singular diversities in the four Gospels in their accounts\nof the angelic appearances, the number, occupation, and attitude of\nthese superhuman persons, and contradictions may be spun, if one is so\ndisposed, out of these varieties. But it is wiser to take another view\nof them, and to see in the varying reports, sometimes of one angel,\nsometimes of two, sometimes of one sitting outside the sepulchre,\nsometimes one within, sometimes none, either different moments of time\nor differences produced by the different spiritual condition of the\nbeholders. Who can count the glancing wings of the white-winged flock\nof sea-birds as they sail and turn in the sunshine? Who can count the\nnumbers of these 'bright-harnessed angels,' sometimes more, sometimes\nless, flickering and fluttering into and out of sight, which shone\nupon the vision of the weeping onlookers? We know too little about the\nlaws of angelic appearances; we know too little about the relation in\nthat high region between the seeing eye and the objects beheld to\nventure to say that there is contradiction where the narratives\npresent variety. Enough for us to draw the lessons that are suggested\nby that quiet figure sitting there in the inner vestibule of the\ngrave, the stone rolled away and the work done, gazing on the tomb\nwhere the Lord of men and angels had lain.\n\nHe was a youth. 'The oldest angels are the youngest,' says a great\nmystic. The angels 'excel in strength' because they delight to do His\ncommandments, hearkening unto the voice of His word.' The lapse of\nages brings not age to them who 'wait on the Lord' in the higher\nministries of heaven, and run unwearied, and walk unfainting, and when\nthey are seen by men are radiant with immortal youth. He was 'clothed\nin a long white garment,' the sign at once of purity and of repose;\nand he was sitting in rapt contemplation and quiet adoration there,\nwhere the body of Jesus had lain.\n\nBut what had he to do with the joy of Resurrection? It delivered _him_\nfrom no fears, it brought to him no fresh assurance of a life which\nwas always his. Wherefore was he there? Because that Cross strikes its\npower upwards as well as downwards; because He that had lain there is\nthe Head of all creation, and the Lord of angels as well as of men;\nbecause that Resurrection following upon that Cross, 'unto the\nprincipalities and powers in heavenly places,' opened a new and\nwonderful door into the unsounded and unfathomed abyss of divine love;\nbecause into these things 'angels desire to look,' and, looking, are\nsmitten with adoring wonder and flushed with the illumination of a new\nknowledge of what God is, and of what man is to God. The Resurrection\nof the Prince of Life was no mystery to the angel. To him the mystery\nwas in His death. To us the death is not a mystery, but the\nResurrection is. That gazing figure looks from the other side upon the\ngrave which we contemplate from this side of the gulf of death; but\nthe eyes of both orders of Being fix upon the same hallowed spot--they\nin adoring wonder that there a God should have lain; we in lowly\nthankfulness that thence a man should have risen.\n\nFurther, we see in that angel presence not only the indication that\nChrist is his King as well as ours, but also the mark of his and all\nhis fellows' sympathetic participation in whatsoever is of so deep\ninterest to humanity. There is a certain tone of friendship and\noneness in his words. The trembling women were smitten into an ecstasy\nof bewildered fear (as one of the words, 'affrighted' might more\naccurately be rendered), and his consolation to them, 'Be not\naffrighted, ye seek Jesus,' suggests that, in all the great sweep of\nthe unseen universe, whatsoever beings may people that to us\napparently waste and solitary space, howsoever many they may be,\n'thick as the autumn leaves in Vallambrosa' or as the motes that dance\nin the sunshine, they are all friends and allies and elder brethren of\nthose who seek for Jesus with a loving heart. No creature that owns\nHis sway can touch or injure or need terrify the soul that follows\nafter Christ. 'All the servants of our King in heaven and earth are\none,' and He sends forth His brightest and loftiest to be brethren and\nministers to them who shall be 'heirs of salvation.' So we may pass\nthrough the darkest spaces of the universe and the loneliest valleys\nof the shadow of death, sure that whosoever may be there will be our\nfriend if we are the friends of Christ.\n\nII. So much, then, for the first point that I would suggest here.\nNote, secondly, the triumphant light cast upon the cradle and the\nCross.\n\nThere is something very remarkable, because for purposes of\nidentification plainly unnecessary, in the minute particularity of the\ndesignation which the angel lips give to Jesus Christ. 'Jesus, the\nNazarene, who was crucified.' Do you not catch a tone of wonder and a\ntone of triumph in this threefold particularising of the humanity, the\nlowly residence, and the Ignominious death? All that lowliness,\nsuffering, and shame are brought into comparison with the rising from\nthe dead. That is to say, when we grasp the fact of a risen Christ, we\nlook back upon all the story of His birth, His lowly life, His death\nof shame, and see a new meaning in it, and new reasons for triumph and\nfor wonder. The cradle is illuminated by the grave, the Cross by the\nempty sepulchre. As at the beginning there is a supernatural entrance\ninto life, so at the end there is a supernatural resumption of it. The\nbirth corresponds with the resurrection, and both witness to the\ndivinity. The lowly life culminates in the conquest over death; the\nNazarene despised, rejected, dwelling in a place that was a byword,\nsharing all the modest lowliness and self-respecting poverty of the\nGalilean peasants, has conquered death. The Man that was crucified has\nconquered death. And the fact that He has risen explains and\nilluminates the fact that He died.\n\nBrethren, let us lay this to heart, that unless we believe in the\nResurrection of Jesus Christ, the saying 'He was crucified' is the\nsaddest word that can be spoken about any of the great ones of the\npast. If Jesus Christ be lying in some nameless grave, then all the\npower of His death is gone, and He and it are nothing to me, or to\nyou, or to any of our fellow-men, more than a thousand deaths of the\nmighty ones of old. But Easter day transfigures the gloom of the day\nof the Crucifixion, and the rising sun of its morning gilds and\nexplains the Cross. Now it stands forth as the great redeeming power\nof the world, where my sins and yours and the whole world's have been\nexpiated and done away. And now, instead of being ignominy, it is\nglory, and instead of being defeat it is victory, and instead of\nlooking upon that death as the lowest point of the Master's\nhumiliation, we may look upon it as He Himself did, as the highest\npoint of His glorifying. For the Cross then becomes His great means of\nwinning men to Himself, and the very throne of His power. On the\nhistorical fact of a Resurrection depend all the worth and meaning of\nthe death of Christ. 'If He be not risen our preaching is vain, and\nyour faith is also vain.' 'If Christ be not risen, ye are yet in your\nsins.' But if what this day commemorates be true, then upon all His\nearthly life is thrown a new light; and we first understand the Cross\nwhen we look upon the empty grave.\n\nIII. Again, notice here the majestic announcement of the great fact,\nand its confirmation.\n\n'He is risen; He is not here.' The first preacher of the Resurrection\nwas an angel, a true ev-angel-ist. His message is conveyed in these\nbrief sentences, unconnected with each other, in token, not of\nabruptness and haste, but of solemnity. 'He is risen' is one word in\nthe original--a sentence of one word, which announces the mightiest\nmiracle that ever was wrought upon earth, a miracle which opens the\ndoor wide enough for all supernatural events recorded of Jesus Christ\nto find an entrance to the understanding and the reason.\n\n'He is risen.' The Resurrection of Jesus Christ is declared by angel\nlips to be His own act; not, indeed, as if He were acting separately\nfrom the Father, but still less as if in it He were merely passive.\nThink of that; a dead Christ raised Himself. That is the teaching of\nthe Scripture. I do not dwell here, at this stage of my sermon, on the\nmany issues that spring from such a conception, but this only I urge,\nJesus Christ was the Lord of life; held life and death, His own and\nothers', at His beck and will. His death was voluntary; He was not\npassive in it, but He died because He chose. His resurrection was His\nact; He rose because He willed. 'I have power to lay it down, I have\npower to take it again.' No one said to Him, 'I say unto Thee, arise!'\nThe divine power of the Father's will did not work upon Him as from\nwithout to raise Him from the dead; but He, the embodiment of\ndivinity, raised Himself, even though it is also true that He was\nraised from the dead by the glory of the Father. These two statements\nare not contradictory, but the former of them can only be predicated\nof Him; and it sets Him on a pedestal immeasurably above, and\ninfinitely apart from, all those to whom life is communicated by a\ndivine act. He Himself is 'the Life,' and it was not possible that\nLife should be holden of Death; therefore He burst its bonds, and,\nlike the ancient Jewish hero, though in far nobler fashion, our Samson\nenters into the city which is a prison, and on His strong shoulders\nbears away the gates, that none may ever there be prisoners without\nhope.\n\nNow, then, note the confirmation of this stupendous fact. 'He is\nrisen; He is not here.' The grave was empty, and the trembling women\nwere called upon to look and see for themselves that the body was not\nthere. One remark is all that I wish to make about this matter--viz.\nthis, all theories, ancient or modern, which deny the Resurrection,\nare shattered by this one question, What became of Jesus Christ's\nbody? We take it as a plain historical fact, which the extremest\nscepticism has never ventured to deny, that the grave of Christ was\nempty. The trumped-up story of the guards sufficiently shows that.\nWhen the belief of a resurrection began to be spread abroad, what\nwould have been easier for Pharisees and rulers than to have gone to\nthe sepulchre and rolled back the stone, and said, 'Look there! there\nis your risen Man, lying mouldering, like all the rest of us.' They\ndid not do it. Why? Because the grave was empty. Where was the body?\nThey had it not, else they would have been glad to produce it. The\ndisciples had it not, for if they had, you come back to the\ndiscredited and impossible theory that, having it, and knowing that\nthey were telling lies, they got up the story of the Resurrection.\nNobody believes that nowadays--nobody can believe it who looks at the\nresults of the preaching of this, by hypothesis, falsehood. 'Men do\nnot gather grapes of thorns, nor figs of thistles.' And whether the\ndisciples were right or wrong, there can be no question in the mind of\nanybody who is not prepared to swallow impossibilities compared to\nwhich miracles are easy, that the first disciples heartily believed\nthat Jesus Christ was risen from the dead. As I say, one confirmation\nof the belief lies in the empty grave, and this question may be put to\nanybody that says 'I do not believe in your Resurrection':--'What\nbecame of the sacred body of Jesus Christ?'\n\nNow, note the way in which the announcement of this tremendous fact\nwas received. With blank bewilderment and terror on the part of these\nwomen, followed by incredulity on the part of the Apostles and of the\nother disciples. These things are on the surface of the narrative, and\nvery important they are. They plainly tell us that the first hearers\ndid not believe the testimony which they themselves call upon us to\nbelieve. And, that being the state of mind of the early disciples on\nthe Resurrection day, what becomes of the modern theory, which seeks\nto explain the fact of the early belief in the Resurrection by saying,\n'Oh, they had worked themselves into such a fever of expectation that\nJesus Christ would rise from the dead that the wish was father to the\nthought, and they said that He did because they expected that He\nwould'? No! they did not expect that He would; it was the very last\nthing that they expected. They had not in their minds the soil out of\nwhich such imaginations would grow. They were perfectly unprepared to\nbelieve it, and, as a matter of fact, they did not believe until they\nhad seen. So I think that that one fact disposes of a great deal of\npestilent and shallow talk in these days that tries to deny the\nResurrection and to save the character of the men that witnessed it.\n\nIV. And now, lastly, note here the summons to grateful contemplation.\n\n'Behold the place whore they laid Him.' To these women the call was\nsimply one to come and see what would confirm the witness. But we may,\nperhaps, permissibly turn it to a wider purpose, and say that it\nsummons us all to thankful, lowly, believing, glad contemplation of\nthat empty grave as the basis of all our hopes. Look upon it and upon\nthe Resurrection which it confirms to us as an historical fact. It\nsets the seal of the divine approval on Christ's work, and declares\nthe divinity of His person and the all-sufficiency of His mighty\nsacrifice. Therefore let us, laden with our sins and seeking for\nreconciliation with God, and knowing how impossible it is for us to\nbring an atonement or a ransom for ourselves, look upon that grave and\nlearn that Christ has offered the sacrifice which God has accepted,\nand with which He is well pleased.\n\n'Behold the place where they laid Him,' and, looking upon it, let us\nthink of that Resurrection as a prophecy, with a bearing upon us and\nupon all the dear ones that have trod the common road into the great\ndarkness. Christ has died, therefore they live; Christ lives,\ntherefore we shall never die. His grave was in a garden--a garden\nindeed. The yearly miracle of the returning 'life re-orient out of\ndust,' typifies the mightier miracle which He works for all that trust\nin Him, when out of death He leads them into life. The graveyard has\nbecome 'God's acre'; the garden in which the seed sown in weakness is\nto be raised in power, and sown corruptible is to be raised in\nincorruption.\n\n'Behold the place where they laid Him,' and in the empty grave read\nthe mystery of the Resurrection as the pattern and the symbol of our\nhigher life; that, 'like as Christ was raised from the dead by the\nglory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.'\nOh to partake more and more of that power of His Resurrection!\n\nIn Christ's empty grave is planted the true 'tree of life, which is in\nthe midst of the \"true\" Paradise of God.' And we, if we truly trust\nand humbly love that Lord, shall partake of its fruits, and shall one\nday share the glories of His risen life in the heavens, even as we\nshare the power of it here and now.\n\n\n\nLOVE'S TRIUMPH OVER SIN\n\n\n'Tell His disciples and Peter that He goeth before yon into\nGalilee.--Mark xvi, 7.\n\nThis prevailing tradition of Christian antiquity ascribes this Gospel\nto John Mark, sister's son to Barnabas, and affirms that in composing\nit he was in some sense the 'interpreter' of the Apostle Peter. Some\nconfirmation of this alleged connection between the Evangelist and the\nApostle may be gathered from the fact that the former is mentioned by\nthe latter as with him when he wrote his First Epistle. And, in the\nGospel itself, there are some little peculiarities which seem to look\nin the same direction. A certain speciality is traceable here and\nthere, both in omissions of incidents in the Apostle's life recorded\nby some of the other Evangelists, and in the addition of slight facts\nconcerning him unnoticed by them.\n\nChief among these is the place which his name holds in this very\nremarkable message, delivered by the angels to the women who came to\nChrist's tomb on the Resurrection morning. Matthew, who also reports\nthe angels' words, has only 'tell His disciples.' Mark adds the words,\nwhich must have come like wine and oil to the bruised heart of the\ndenier, 'tell His disciples _and Peter_.' To the others, it was of\nlittle importance that his name should have been named then; to him it\nwas life from the dead, that he should have been singled out to\nreceive a word of forgiveness and a summons to meet his Lord; as if He\nhad said through His angel messengers--'I would see them all; but\nwhoever may stay behind, let not _him_ be absent from our glad meeting\nagain.'\n\nWe find, too, that the same individualising of the Apostle, which led\nto his being thus greeted in the first thoughts of his risen Lord, led\nalso to an interview with Him on that same day, about which not a\nsyllable of detail is found in any Gospel, though the fact was known\nto the whole body of the disciples. For when the two friends who had\nmet Christ at Emmaus came back in the night with their strange\ntidings, their eagerness to tell their joyful news is anticipated by\nthe eagerness of the brethren to tell _their_ wonderful story: 'The\nLord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon.' Paul, too, gives\nthat meeting, when the Lord was alone with the penitent, the foremost\nplace in his list of the evidences of Christ's resurrection, 'He was\nseen of Cephas.' What passed then is hidden from all eyes. The secrets\nof that hour of deep contrition and healing love Peter kept secretly\ncurtained from sight, in the innermost chamber of his memory. But we\nmay be sure that then forgiveness was sought and granted, and the bond\nthat fastened him to his Lord was welded together again, where it had\nsnapped, and was the stronger because it had been broken, and at the\npoint of fracture.\n\nThe man must be first re-united to his Saviour, before the Apostle can\nbe reinstated in his functions. In secrecy, not beheld by any, is the\npersonal act of restoration to love and friendship effected; and then\nin public, before his brethren, who were concerned in his official\nposition, but not in his personal relation to his Lord, the\nreappointment of the pardoned disciple to his apostleship takes place.\nHis sin had had a public aspect, and his threefold denial must, in so\nfar as it was an outward act, be effaced by his threefold confession.\nThen he becomes again 'Peter'--not merely 'Simon Bar Jonas'; and, as\nthe Book of the Acts shows, never ceases to hear the divine\ncommissions, 'Feed My sheep,' 'Follow Me'; nor ever forgets the\nlessons he had learned in these bitter hours of self-loathing, and in\nthe rapturous moments when again he saw his Lord.\n\nPutting all these things together--this message from Christ, the\ninterview which followed it, and the subsequent history of the\nApostle--we have a connected series of facts which may illustrate for\nus, better than many dry words of mine could do, the triumph over sin\nof the forgiving love of Christ.\n\nI. Notice, then, first, the loving message with which He beckons the\nwanderer back.\n\nIf we try to throw ourselves back into the Apostle's black thoughts\nduring the interval between his denial and the Resurrection morning,\nwe shall better feel what this love-token from the grave must have\nbeen to him. His natural character, as well as his real love for his\nMaster, ensured that his lies could not long content him. They were\nuttered so vehemently because they were uttered in spite of inward\nresistance. Overpowered by fear, beaten down from all his\nvain-glorious self-confidence by a woman-servant's sharp tongue and\nmocking eye, he lied--and then came the rebound. The same impulsive\nvehemence which had hurried him into the fault, would swing him back\nagain to quick penitence when the cock crew, and that Divine Face,\nturning slowly from before the judgment-seat with the sorrow of\nwounded love upon it, silently said, 'Remember.' We can fancy how that\nbitter weeping, which began so soon, grew more passionate and more\nbitter when the end came. We are singularly happy if we do not know\nthe pang of remembering some fault to the loved dead--some hasty word,\nsome momentary petulance, some selfish disregard of their happiness,\nsome sullen refusal of their tenderness. How the thought that it is\nall irrevocable now embitters the remorse! How passionately we long\nthat we could have one of the moments again, which seemed so trivial\nwhile we possessed them, that we might confess and be forgiven, and\natone! And this poor, warm-hearted, penitent denier had to think that\nhis very last act to the Lord whom he loved so well had been such an\nact of cowardly shrinking from acknowledging Him; and that\nhenceforward his memory of that dear face was to be for ever saddened\nby that last look! That they should have parted so! that that sad gaze\nwas to be the last he should ever have, and that _it_ was to haunt him\nfor the rest of his life! We can understand how heavily the hours\npassed on that dreary Saturday. If, as seems probable, he was with\nJohn in his home, whither the latter had led the mother of our Lord,\nwhat a group were gathered there, each with a separate pang from the\ncommon sorrow!\n\nInto this sorrow come the tidings that all was not over, that the\nirrevocable was not irrevocable, that perhaps new days of loyal love\nmight still be granted, in which the doleful failure of the past might\nbe forgotten; and then, whether before or after his hurried rush to\nthe grave we need not here stay to inquire, follows the message of our\ntext, a word of forgiveness and reconciliation, sent by the Lord as\nthe herald and outrider of His own coming, to bring gladness and hope\nere He Himself draws near.\n\nThink of this message as a revelation of love that is stronger than\ndeath.\n\nThe news of Christ's resurrection must have struck awe, but not\nnecessarily joy, into the disciples' hearts. The dearest ones suffer\nso solemn a change to our apprehensions when they pass into the grave,\nthat to many a man it would be maddening terror to meet those whom he\nloved and still loves. So there must have been a spasm of fear even\namong Christ's friends when they heard of Him as risen again, and much\nconfusing doubt as to what would be the amount of resemblance to His\nold self. They probably dreaded to find Him far removed from their\nfamiliar love, forgetful perhaps of much of the old life, with other\nthoughts than before, with the atmosphere of the other world round\nabout Him, which glorified Him indeed, but separated Him too from\nthose whose grosser lungs could live only in this thick air. These\nwords of our text would go far to scatter all such fears. They link on\nthe future to the past, as if His first thought when He rose had been\nto gather up again the dropped threads of their intercourse, and to\ncarry on their ancient concord and companionship as though no break\nhad been at all. For all the disciples, and especially for him who is\nespecially named, they confirm the identity of Christ's whole\ndispositions towards them now, with those which He had before. Death\nhas not changed Him at all. Much has been done since He left them; the\nworld's history has been changed, but nothing which has happened has\nhad any effect on the reality of His love, and on the inmost reality\nof their companionship. In these respects they are where they were,\nand even Calvary and the tomb are but as a parenthesis. The old bonds\nare all re-knit, and the junction is all but imperceptible.\n\nThis is how we have to think of our Lord now, in His attitude towards\nus. We, too, may have our share in that message, which came like\nmorning twilight before He shone upon the apostles' darkness. To them\nit proclaimed a love which was stronger than death. To us it may\ndeclare a love which is stronger than all change of circumstances. He\nis no more parted from us by the Throne than from them by the Cross.\nHe descended into 'the lower parts of the earth,' and His love lived\non, and so it does now, when He has 'ascended up far above all\nheavens.' Love knows no difference of place, conditions, or functions.\nFrom out of the blazing heart of the Glory the same tender face looks\nthat bent over sick men's pallets, and that turned on Peter in the\njudgment-hall. The hand that holds the sceptre of the universe is the\nhand that was nailed to the Cross, and that was stretched out to that\nsame Peter when he was ready to sink. The breast that is girt with the\ngolden girdle of priestly sovereignty is the same tender home on which\nJohn's happy head rested in placid contentment. All the love that ever\nflowed from Christ flows from Him still. To Him, 'whose nature and\nwhose name are Love,' it matters nothing whether He is in the house at\nBethany, or in the upper room, or hanging on the Cross, or lying in\nthe grave, or risen from the dead, or seated on the right hand of God.\nHe is the same everywhere and always. 'I have loved thee with an\neverlasting love.'\n\nAgain, this message is the revelation of a love that is not turned\naway by our sinful changes.\n\nPeter may have thought that he had, with his own words, broken the\nbond between him and his Lord. He had renounced his allegiance; was\nthe renunciation to be accepted? He had said, 'I am not one of them';\ndid Christ answer, 'Be it so; one of them thou shalt no more be'? The\nmessage from the women's lips settled the question, and let him feel\nthat, though his grasp of Christ had relaxed, Christ's grasp of him\nhad not, He might change, he might cease for a time to prize his\nLord's love, he might cease either to be conscious of it or to wish\nfor it; but that love could not change. It was unaffected by his\nunfaithfulness, even as it had not been originated by his fidelity.\nRepelled, it still lingered beside him. Disowned, it still asserted\nits property in him. Being reviled, it blessed; being persecuted, it\nendured; being defamed, it entreated; and, patient through all wrongs\nand changes, it loved on till it had won back the erring heart, and\ncould fill it with the old blessedness again.\n\nAnd is not that same miracle of long-enduring love presented before\nevery one of us, as in Christ's heart for us? True, our sin interferes\nwith our sense of it, and modifies the form in which it must deal with\nus; but, however real and disastrous may be the power of our evil in\ntroubling the communion of love between us and our Lord, and in\ncompelling Him to smite before He binds up, never forget that our sin\nis utterly impotent to turn away the tide that sets to us from the\nheart of Christ. Earthborn vapours may hang about the low levels, and\nturn the gracious sun himself into a blood-red ball of lurid fire; but\nthey reach only a little way up, and high above their region is the\npure blue, and the blessed light pours down upon the upper surface of\nthe white mist, and thins away its opaqueness, and dries up its\nclinging damp, and at last parts it into filmy fragments that float\nout of sight, and the dwellers on the green earth see the sun, which\nwas always there even when they could not behold it, and which, by\nshining on, has conquered all the obstructions that veiled its beams.\nSin is mighty, but one thing sin cannot do, and that is to make Christ\ncease to love us. Sin is mighty, but one other thing sin cannot do,\nand that is to prevent Christ from manifesting His love to us sinners,\nthat we may learn to love and so may cease to sin. Christ's love is\nnot at the beck and call of our fluctuating affections. It has its\nsource deeper than in the springs in our hearts, namely in the depths\nof His own nature. It is not the echo or the answer to ours, but ours\nis the echo to His; and that being so, our changes do not reach to it,\nany more than earth's seasons affect the sun. For ever and ever He\nloves. Whilst we forget Him, He remembers us. Whilst we repay Him with\nneglect or with hate, He still loves. If we believe not, He still\nabides faithful to His merciful purpose, and, in spite of all that we\ncan do, will not deny Himself, by ceasing to be the incarnate\nPatience, the perfect Love. He is Himself the great ensample of that\n'charity' which His Apostle painted; He is not easily provoked; He is\nnot soon angry; He beareth all things; He hopeth all things. We cannot\nget away from the sweep of His love, wander we ever so far. The child\nmay struggle in the mother's arms, and beat the breast that shelters\nit with its little hand; but it neither hurts nor angers that gentle\nbosom, nor loosens the firm but loving grasp that holds it fast. He\ncarries, as a nurse does, His wayward children, and, blessed be His\nname! His arm is too strong for us to shake it off, His love too\ndivine for us to dam it back.\n\nAnd still further, here we see a love which sends a special message\nbecause of special sin.\n\nIf one was to be singled out from the little company to receive by\nname the summons of the Lord to meet Him in Galilee, we might have\nexpected it to have been that faithful friend who stood beneath the\nCross, till his Lord's command sent him to his own home; or that\nweeping mother whom he then led away with him; or one of the two who\nhad been turned from secret disciples into confessors by the might of\ntheir love, and had laid His body with reverent care in the grave in\nthe garden. Strange reward for true love that they should be merged in\nthe general message, and strange recompense for treason and cowardice\nthat Peter's name should be thus distinguished! Is sin, then, a\npassport to His deeper love? Is the murmur true after all, 'Thou never\ngavest me a kid, but as soon as this thy son is come, which hath\ndevoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted\ncalf'? Yes, and no. No, inasmuch as the unbroken fellowship hath in it\ncalm and deep joys which the returning prodigal does not know, and all\nsin lays waste and impoverishes the soul. Yes, inasmuch as He, who\nknows all our needs, knows that the denier needs a special treatment\nto bring him back to peace, and that the further a poor heart has\nstrayed from Him, the mightier must be the forthputting of manifested\nlove, if it is to be strong enough to travel across all the dreary\nwastes, and draw back again, to its orbit among its sister planets,\nthe wandering star. The depth of our need determines the strength of\nthe restorative power put forth. They who had not gone away would come\nat the call addressed to them all, but he who had sundered himself\nfrom them and from the Lord would remain in his sad isolation, unless\nsome special means were used to bring him back. The more we have\nsinned, the less can we believe in Christ's love; and so the more we\nhave sinned, the more marvellous and convincing does He make the\ntestimony and operations of His love to us. It is ever to the poor\nbewildered sheep, lying panting in the wilderness, that He comes.\nAmong His creatures, the race which has sinned is that which receives\nthe most stupendous proof of the seeking divine love. Among men, the\npublicans and the harlots, the denying Peters and the persecuting\nPauls, are they to whom the most persuasive entreaties of His love are\nsent, and on whom the strongest powers of His grace are brought to\nbear. Our sin cannot check the flow of His love. More marvellous\nstill, our sin occasions a mightier burst of the manifestation of His\nlove, for eyes blinded by selfishness and carelessness, or by fear and\ndespair, need to see a brightness beyond the noonday sun, ere they can\nbehold the amazing truth of His love to them; and what they need, they\nget. 'Go, tell Peter.'\n\nHere, too, is the revelation of a love which singles out a sinful man\nby name.\n\nChrist does not deal with us in the mass, but soul by soul. Our finite\nminds have to lose the individual in order to grasp the class. Our\neyes see the wood far off on the mountain-side, but not the single\ntrees, nor each fluttering leaf. We think of 'the race'--the twelve\nhundred millions that live to-day, and the uncounted crowds that have\nbeen, but the units in that inconceivable sum are not separate in our\nview. But He does not generalise so. He has a clear individualising\nknowledge of each; each separately has a place in His mind or heart.\nTo each He says, 'I know thee by name.' He loves the world, because He\nloves every single soul with a distinct love. And His messages of\nblessing are as specific and individualising as the love from which\nthey come. He speaks to each of us as truly as He singled out Peter\nhere, as truly as when His voice from heaven said, 'Saul, Saul.'\nEnglish names are on His lips as really as Jewish ones. He calls to\n_thee_ by _thy_ name--thou hast a share in His love. To thee the call\nto trust Him is addressed, and to thee forgiveness, help, purity, life\neternal are offered. Thou hast sinned; that only infuses deeper\ntenderness into His beseeching tones. Thou hast gone further front Him\nthan some of thy fellows; that only makes His recovering energy\ngreater. Thou hast denied His name; that only makes Him speak thine\nwith more persuasive invitation.\n\nLook, then, at this one instance of a love stronger than death,\nmightier than sin, sending its special greeting to the denier, and\nlearn how deep the source, how powerful the flow, how universal the\nsweep, of that river of the love of God, which streams to us through\nthe channel of Christ His Son.\n\nII. Notice, secondly, the secret meeting between our Lord and the\nApostle.\n\nThat is the second stage in the victorious conflict of divine love\nwith man's sin. As I have said, that interview took place on the day\nof the Resurrection, apparently before our Lord joined the two\nsorrowful travellers to Emmaus, and certainly before He appeared to\nthe company gathered by night in the closed chamber. The fact was well\nknown, for it is referred to by Luke and by Paul, but nothing beyond\nthe fact seems to have been known, or at all events is made public by\nthem. All this is very significant and very beautiful.\n\nWhat tender consideration there is in meeting Peter alone, before\nseeing him in the companionship of the others! How painful would have\nbeen the rush of the first emotions of shame awakened by Christ's\npresence, if their course had been checked by any eye but His own\nbeholding them! How impossible it would have then been to have poured\nout all the penitent confessions with which his heart must have been\nfull, and how hard it would have been to have met for the first time,\nand not to have poured them out! With most loving insight, then, into\nthe painful embarrassment, and dread of unsympathising standers-by,\nwhich must have troubled the contrite Apostle, the Lord is careful to\ngive him the opportunity of weeping his fill on His own bosom,\nunrestrained by any thought of others, and will let him sob out his\ncontrition to His own ear alone. Then the meeting in the upper chamber\nwill be one of pure joy to Peter, as to all the rest. The emotions\nwhich he has in common with them find full play, in that hour when all\nare reunited to their Lord. The experience which belongs to himself\nalone has its solitary hour of unrecorded communion. The first to whom\nHe, who is 'separate from sinners,' appeared was 'Mary Magdalene, out\nof whom He had cast seven devils.' The next were the women who bore\nthis message of forgiveness; and probably the next was the one among\nall the company who had sinned most grievously. So wondrous is the\norder of His preferences, coming ever nearest to those who need Him\nmost.\n\nAnd may we not regard this secret interview as representing for us\nwhat is needed on our part to make Christ's forgiving love our own?\nThere must be the personal contact of my soul with the loving heart of\nChrist, the individual act of my own coming to Him, and, as the old\nPuritans used to say,' my transacting' with Him. Like the ocean of the\natmosphere, His love encompasses me, and in it I 'live, and move, and\nhave my being.' But I must let it flow into my spirit, and stir the\ndormant music of ray soul. I can shut it out, sealing my heart\nlove-tight against it. I do shut it out, unless by my own conscious,\npersonal act I yield myself to Him, unless by my own faith I come to\nHim, and meet Him, secretly and really as did the penitent Apostle,\nwhom the message, that proclaimed the love of his Lord, emboldened to\nmeet the Lord who loved, and by His own lips to be assured of\nforgiveness and friendship. It is possible to stumble at noontide, as\nin the dark. A man may starve, outside of barns filled with plenty,\nand his lips may be parched with thirst, though he is within sight of\na broad river flowing in the sunshine. So a soul may stiffen into the\ndeath of self and sin, even though the voice that wakes the dead to a\nlife of love be calling to it. Christ and His grace are yours if you\nwill, but the invitations and beseechings of His mercy, the constant\ndrawings of His love, the all-embracing offers of His forgiveness, may\nbe all in vain, if you do not grasp them and hold them fast by the\nhand of faith.\n\nThat personal act must be preceded by the message of His mighty love.\nEver He sends such messages as heralds of His coming, just as He\nprepared the way for His own approach to the Apostle, by the words of\nour text. Our faith must follow His word. Our love can only be called\nforth by the manifestation of His. But His message must be followed by\nthat personal act, else His word is spoken in vain, and there is no\nreal union between our need and His fulness, nor any cleansing contact\nof His grace with our foulness.\n\nMark, too, the intensely individual character of that act of faith by\nwhich a man accepts Christ's grace. Friends and companions may bring\nthe tidings of the risen Lord's loving heart, but the actual closing\nwith the Lord's mercy must be done by myself, alone with Him.\n\nAs if there were not another soul on earth, I and He must meet, and in\nsolitude deep as that of death, each man for himself must yield to\nIncarnate Love, and receive eternal life. The flocks and herds, the\nwives and children, have all to be sent away, and Jacob must be left\nalone, before the mysterious Wrestler comes whose touch of fire lames\nthe whole nature of sin and death, whose inbreathed power strengthens\nto hold Him fast till He speaks a blessing, who desires to be\novercome, and makes our yielding to Him our prevailing with Him. As\none of the old mystics called prayer 'the flight of the lonely man to\nthe only God,' so we may call the act of faith the meeting of the soul\nalone with Christ alone. Do you know anything of that personal\ncommunion? Have you, your own very self, by your own penitence for\nyour own sin, and your own thankful faith in the Love which thereby\nbecomes truly yours, isolated yourself from all companionship, and\njoined yourself to Christ? Then, through that narrow passage where we\ncan only walk singly, you will come into a large place. The act of\nfaith, which separates us from all men, unites us for the first time\nin real brotherhood, and they who, one by one, come to Jesus and meet\nHim alone, next find that they 'are come to the city of God, to an\ninnumerable company, to the festal choirs of angels, to the Church of\nthe First-born, to the spirits of just men made perfect.'\n\nIII. Notice, finally, the gradual cure of the pardoned Apostle.\n\nHe was restored to his office, as we read in the supplement to John's\nGospel. In that wonderful conversation, full as it is of allusions to\nPeter's fall, Christ asks but one question, 'Lovest thou Me?' That\nincludes everything. 'Hast thou learned the lesson of My mercy? hast\nthou responded to My love? then thou art fit for My work, and\nbeginning to be perfected.' So the third stage in the triumph of\nChrist's love over man's sin is, when we, beholding that love flowing\ntowards us, and accepting it by faith, respond to it with our own, and\nare able to say, 'Thou knowest that I love Thee.'\n\nThe all-embracing question is followed by an equally comprehensive\ncommand, 'Follow thou Me,' a two-worded compendium of all morals, a\nprecept which naturally results from love, and certainly leads to\nabsolute perfectness. With love to Christ for motive, and Christ\nHimself for pattern, and following Him for our one duty, all things\nare possible, and the utter defeat of sin in us is but a question of\ntime.\n\nAnd the certainty, as well as the gradual slowness, of that victory,\nare well set forth by the future history of the Apostle. We know how\nhis fickleness passed away, and how his vehement character was calmed\nand consolidated into resolved persistency, and how his love of\ndistinction and self-confidence were turned in a new direction, obeyed\na divine impulse, and became powers. We read how he started to the\nfront; how he guided the Church in the first stage of its development;\nhow whenever there was danger he was in the van, and whenever there\nwas work his hand was first on the plough; how he bearded and braved\nrulers and councils; how--more difficult still for him--he lay quietly\nin prison sleeping like a child, between his guards, on the night\nbefore his execution; how--most difficult of all--he acquiesced in\nPaul's superiority; and, if he still needed to be withstood and\nblamed, could recognise the wisdom of the rebuke, and in his calm old\nage could speak well of the rebuker as his 'beloved brother Paul.' Nor\nwas the cure a change in the great lines of his character. These\nremain the same, the characteristic excellences possible to them are\nbrought out, the defects are curbed and cast out. The 'new man' is the\n'old man' with a new direction, obeying a new impulse, but retaining\nits individuality. Weaknesses become strengths; the sanctified\ncharacter is the old character sanctified; and it is still true that\n'every man hath his proper gift of God, one after this manner, and\nanother after that.'\n\nIt is very instructive to observe how deeply the experiences of his\nfall, and of Christ's mercy then, had impressed themselves on Peter's\nmemory, and how constantly they were present with him all through his\nafter-life. His Epistles are full of allusions which show this. For\ninstance, to go a step further back in his life, he remembered that\nthe Lord had said to him, 'Thou art Peter,' 'a stone,' and that his\npride in that name had helped to his rash confidence, and so to his\nsin. Therefore, when he is cured of these, he takes pleasure in\nsharing his honour with his brethren, and writes, 'Ye also, as living\nstones, are built up.' He remembered the contempt for others and the\ntrust in himself with which he had said, 'Though all should forsake\nThee, yet will not I'; and, taught what must come of that, he writes,\n'Be clothed with humility, for God resisteth the proud, and giveth\ngrace to the humble.' He remembered how hastily he had drawn his sword\nand struck at Malchus, and he writes, 'If when ye do well and suffer\nfor it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.' He\nremembered how he had been surprised into denial by the questions of a\nsharp-tongued servant-maid, and he writes, 'Be ready always to give an\nanswer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in\nyou, with meekness.' He remembered how the pardoning love of his Lord\nhad honoured him unworthy, with the charge, 'Feed My sheep,' and he\nwrites, ranking himself as one of the class to whom he speaks--'The\nelders I exhort, who am also an elder ... feed the flock of God.' He\nremembered that last command, which sounded ever in his spirit,\n'Follow thou Me,' and discerning now, through all the years that lay\nbetween, the presumptuous folly and blind inversion of his own work\nand his Master's which had lain in his earlier question, 'Why cannot I\nfollow Thee now? I will lay down my life for Thy sake'--he writes to\nall, 'Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye\nshould follow His steps,'\n\nSo well had he learned the lesson of his own sin, and of that immortal\nlove which had beckoned him back, to peace at its side and purity from\nits hand. Let us learn how the love of Christ, received into the\nheart, triumphs gradually but surely over all sin, transforms\ncharacter, turning even its weakness into strength, and so, from the\ndepths of transgression and very gates of hell, raises men to God.\n\nTo us all this divine message speaks. Christ's love is extended to us;\nno sin can stay it; no fall of ours can make Him despair. He will not\ngive us up. He waits to be gracious. This same Peter once asked, 'How\noft shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him?' And the\nanswer, which commanded unwearied brotherly forgiveness, revealed\ninexhaustible divine pardon--'I say not unto thee until seven times,\nbut until seventy times seven.' The measure of the divine mercy, which\nis the pattern of ours, is completeness ten times multiplied by\nitself; we know not the numbers thereof. 'Let the wicked forsake his\nway ... and let him return unto the Lord, for He will have mercy upon\nhim; and to our God, for He will multiply to pardon.'\n\n\n\n'FIRST TO MARY'\n\n\n'... He appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom He had cast\nseven devils.'--Mark xvl. 9.\n\nA great pile of legend has been built on the one or two notices of\nMary Magdalene in Scripture. Art, poetry, and philanthropy have\naccepted and inculcated these, till we almost feel as if they were\nbits of the Bible. But there is not the shadow of a foundation for\nthem. She has generally been identified with the woman in Luke's\nGospel 'who was a sinner.' There is no reason at all for that\nidentification. On the contrary, there is a reason against it, in the\nfact that immediately after that narrative she is named as one of the\nlittle band of women who ministered to Jesus.\n\nHere is all that we know of her: that Christ cast out the seven\ndevils; that she became one of the Galilean women, including the\nmothers of Jesus and of John, who 'ministered to Him of their\nsubstance'; that she was one of the Marys at the Cross and saw the\ninterment; that she came to the sepulchre, heard the angel's message,\nwent to John with it, came back and stood without at the sepulchre,\nsaw the Lord, and, having heard His voice and clasped His feet,\nreturned to the little company, and then she drops out of the\nnarrative and is no more named. That is all. It is enough. There are\nlarge lessons in this fact which Mark (or whoever wrote this chapter)\ngives with such emphasis, 'He appeared first to Mary Magdalene.'\n\nThink what the Resurrection is--how stupendous and wonderful! Who\n_might_ have been expected to be its witnesses? But see! the first eye\nthat beholds is this poor sin-stained woman's. What a distance between\nthe two extremes of her experience--devil-ridden and gazing on the\nRisen Saviour!\n\nI. An example of the depth to which the soul of man can descend.\n\nThis fact of possession is very obscure and strange. I doubt whether\nwe can understand it. But I cannot see how we can bring it down to the\nlevel of mere disease without involving Jesus Christ in the charge of\nconsciously aiding in upholding what, if it be not an awful truth, is\none of the grimmest, ghastliest superstitions that ever terrified men.\n\nIn all ways He gives in His adhesion to the fact of demoniacal\npossession. He speaks to the demons, and _of_ them, rebukes them,\nholds conversations with them, charges them to be silent. He\ndistinguishes between possession and diseases. 'Heal the sick, cleanse\nthe lepers, raise the dead'--these commands bring together forms of\nsickness running its course; why should He separate from them His next\ncommand and endowment, 'cast out devils,' unless because He regarded\ndemoniacal possession as separate from sickness in any form? He sees\nin His casting of them out the triumph over the personal power of\nevil. 'I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven.' But while the\nfact seems to be established, the thing is only known to us by its\nsigns. These were madness, melancholy, sometimes dumbness, sometimes\nfits and convulsions; the man was dominated by an alien power; there\nwas a strange, awful double consciousness; 'We are many,' 'My name is\nLegion.' There was absolute control by this alien power, which like\nsome parasitical worm had rooted itself within the poor wretch, and\nthere lived upon his blood and life juices--only that it lived in the\nspirit, dominated the will, and controlled the nature.\n\nProbably there had always been the yielding to the impulse to sin of\nsome sort, or at any rate the man had opened the door for the devil to\ncome in.\n\nThis woman had been in the deepest depths of this awful abyss. 'Seven'\nis the numerical symbol of completeness, so she had been utterly\ndevil-ridden. And she had once been a little child in some Galilean\nhome, and parents had seen her budding beauty and early, gentle,\nwomanly ways. And now, think of the havoc! the distorted face, the\nfoul words, the blasphemous thoughts!\n\nAnd is this worse than our sinful case? Are not the devils that\npossess us as real and powerful?\n\nII. An example of the cleansing power of Christ.\n\nWe know nothing about how she had come under His merciful eye, nor any\nof the circumstances of her healing, but only that this woman, with\nwhom the serpent was so closely intertwined, as in some pictures of\nEve's temptation, was not beyond His reach, and was set free. Note--\n\nThere is _no_ condition of human misery which Christ cannot alleviate.\n\nNone is so sunk in sin that He cannot redeem them.\n\nFor all in the world there is hope.\n\nLook on the extremest forms of sin. We can regard them all with the\nassurance that Christ can cleanse them--prostitutes, thieves,\nrespectable worldlings.\n\nNone is so bad as to have lost His love.\n\nNone is so bad as to be excluded from the purpose of His death.\n\nNone is so bad as to be beyond the reach of His cleansing power.\n\nNone has wandered so far that he cannot come back.\n\nThink of the earliest believers--a thief, a 'woman that was a sinner,'\nthis Mary, a Zacch\u00e6us, a persecuting Paul, a rude, rough jailer, etc.\n\nRemember Paul's description of a class of the Corinthian saints--'such\nwere some of you.'\n\nAs long as man is man, so long is God ready to receive him back. There\nis no place where sun does not shine. No heart is given over to\nirremediable hardness. None ever comes to Christ in vain.\n\nThe Saviour is greater than all our sins.\n\nThe deliverance is more than sufficient for the worst.\n\n'God is able of these stones to raise up children to Abraham.'\n\nEzekiel's vision of dry bones.\n\nIII. An example of how the remembrance of past and pardoned sin may be\na blessing.\n\nMary evidently tried always to be beside Him. The cure had been\nperfect, but perhaps there was a tremulous fear, as in the man that\nprayed 'that he might be with Him.'\n\nAnd so, look how all the notices give us one picture of a heart set on\nHim. There were--\n\n(a) Consciousness of weakness, that made her long for His presence as\na security.\n\n(b) Deep love, that made her long for His presence as a joy.\n\n(c) Thankful gratitude, that made her long for opportunities to serve\nHim.\n\nAnd this is what the remembrance of Jesus should be to us.\n\nIV. An example of how the most degraded may rise highest in fellowship\nwith Christ.\n\n'First' to her, because she needed Him and longed for Him.\n\nNow this is but an illustration of the great principle that by God's\nmercy sin when it is hated and pardoned may be made to subserve our\nhighest joys.\n\nIt is not sin which separates us from God, but it is unpardoned sin.\nNot that the more we sin the more we are fit for Him, for all sin is\nloss. There are ways in which even forgiven and repented sin may\ninjure a man. But there is nothing in it to hinder our coming close to\nthe Saviour and enjoying all the fulness of His love, so that if we\nuse it rightly it may become a help.\n\nIf it leads us to that clinging of which we have just spoken, then we\nshall come nearer to God for it.\n\nThe divine presence is always given to those who long for it.\n\nSin may help to kindle such longings.\n\nHe who has been almost dead in the wilderness will keep near the\nguide. The man that has been starved with cold in Arctic night will\nprize the glory and grace of sunshine in fairer lands.\n\nInstances in Church history--Paul, Augustine, Bunyan.\n\n'Publicans and harlots go into the kingdom before you.'\n\nThe noblest illustration is in heaven, where men lead the song of\nRedemption.\n\nGod uses sin as a black background on which the brightest rainbow\ntints of His mercy are displayed.\n\nYou can come to this Saviour whatever you have been. I say to no man,\n'Sin, for it does not matter.' But I do say, 'If you are conscious of\nsin, deep, dark, damning, that makes no barrier between you and God.\nYou may come all the nearer for it if you will let your past teach you\nto long for His love and to lean on Him.'\n\n'He appeared first to Mary Magdalene,' and those who stand nearest the\nthrone and lead the anthems of heaven, and look up with undazzled\nangels' faces to the God of their joy, whose name blazes on their\nforeheads, all these were guilty, sinful men. But they 'have washed\ntheir robes and made them white.' There will be in heaven some of the\nworst sinners that ever lived on earth. There will not be one out of\nwhom He has not 'cast seven devils.'\n\n\n\nTHE WORLD-WIDE COMMISSION\n\n\n'Every creature.'--Mark xvi. 15.\n\nThe missionary enterprise has been put on many bases. People do not\nlike commandments, but yet it is a great relief and strength to come\nback to one, and answer all questions with 'He bids me!'\n\nNow, these words of our Lord open up the whole subject of the\nUniversality of Christianity.\n\nI. The divine audacity of Christianity.\n\nTake the scene. A mere handful of men, whether 'the twelve' or 'the\nfive hundred brethren' is immaterial.\n\nHow they must have recoiled when they heard the sweeping command, 'Go\nye into all the world'! It is like the apparent absurdity of Christ's\nquiet word: 'They need not depart; give ye them to eat,' when the only\nvisible stock of food was 'five loaves and two small fishes.' As on\nthat occasion, so in this final commandment they had to take Christ's\npresence into account. 'I am with you.'\n\nSo note the obviously world-wide extent of Christ's claim of dominion.\nHe had come into the world, to begin with, that 'the world through Him\nmight be saved.' 'If any man thirst, let him come.' The parables of\nthe kingdom of heaven are planned on the same grand scale. 'I will\ndraw all men unto Me.' It cannot be disputed that Jesus 'lived and\nmoved and had His being' in this vision of universal dominion.\n\nHere emerges the great contrast of Christianity with Judaism. Judaism\nwas intolerant, as all merely monotheistic faiths must be, and sure of\nfuture universality, but it was not proselytising--not a missionary\nfaith. Nor is it so to-day. It is exclusive and unprogressive still.\n\nMohammedanism in its fiery youth, because monotheistic was aggressive,\nbut it enforced outward profession only, and left the inner life\nuntouched. So it did not scruple to persecute as well as to\nproselytise. Christianity is alone in calmly setting forth a universal\ndominion, and in seeking it by the Word alone. 'Put up thy sword into\nits sheath.'\n\nII. The foundations of this bold claim.\n\nChrist's sole and singular relation to the whole race. There are\nprofound truths embodied in this relation.\n\n(a) There is implied the adequacy of Christ for all. He is _for_ all,\nbecause He is the only and all-sufficient Saviour. By His death He\noffered satisfaction for the sins of the whole world. 'Look unto Me,\nand be ye saved, all the ends of the earth, for I am God, and there is\nnone else.' 'Neither is there 'salvation in any other, for there is\nnone other name,' etc.\n\n(b) The divine purpose of mercy for all. 'God will have all men to be\nsaved, and to come to a knowledge of the truth.'\n\n(c) The adaptation of the Gospel message to all. It deals with all men\nas on one level. It addresses universal humanity. 'Unto you, O men, I\ncall, and My voice is to the sons of men.' It speaks the same language\nto all sorts of men, to all stages of society, and in all ages.\nChristianity has no esoteric doctrine, no inner circle of the\n'initiated.' Consequently it introduces a new notion of privileged\nclasses.\n\nNote the history of Christianity in its relation to slavery, and to\ninferior and down-trodden races. Christianity has no belief in the\nexistence of 'irreclaimable outcasts,' but proclaims and glories in\nthe possibility of winning any and all to the love which makes\ngodlike. There is one Saviour, and so there is only one Gospel for\n'all the world.'\n\nIII. Its vindication in facts.\n\nThe history of the diffusion of the Gospel at first is significant.\nThink of the varieties of civilisation it approached and absorbed. See\nhow it overcame the bonds of climate and language, etc. How unlike the\nEurope of to-day is to the Europe of Paul's time!\n\nIn this twentieth century Christianity does not present the marks of\nan expiring superstition.\n\nNote, further, that the history of missions vindicates the world-wide\nclaim of the Gospel. Think of the wonderful number of converts in the\nfirst fifty years of gospel preaching. The Roman empire was\nChristianised in three centuries! Recall the innumerable testimonies\ndown to date; _e.g._ the absolute abandonment of idols in the South\nSea Islands, the weakening of caste in India, the romance of missions\nin Central Africa, etc. etc.\n\nThe character, too, of modern converts is as good as was that of\nPaul's. The gospel in this century produces everywhere fruits like\nthose which it brought forth in Asia and Europe in the first century.\nThe success has been in every field. None has been abandoned as\nhopeless. The Moravians in Greenland. The Hottentots. The Patagonians\n(Darwin's testimony). Christianity has constantly appealed to all\nclasses of society. Not many 'noble,' but some in every age and land.\n\nIV. The practical duty.\n\n'Go ye and preach.' The matter is literally left in our hands. Jesus\nhas returned to the throne. Ere departing He announces the distinct\ncommand. There it is, and it is age-long in its application,--'Preach!'\nthat is the one gospel weapon. Tell of the name and the work\nof 'God manifest in the flesh.' First 'evangelise,' then 'disciple the\nnations.' Bring _to_ Christ, then build up _in_ Christ. There are no\nother orders. Let there be boundless trust in the divine gospel, and\nit will vindicate itself in every mission-field. Let us think\nimperially of 'Christ and the Church.' Our anticipations of success\nshould be world-wide in their sweep.\n\nAs when they kindle the festival lamps round the dome of St. Peter's,\nthere is a first twinkling spot here and another there, and gradually\nthey multiply till they outline the whole in an unbroken ring of\nlight, so 'one by one' men will enter the kingdom, till at last 'every\nknee shall bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord.'\n\n  'He shall reign from shore to shore.\n    With illimitable sway.'\n\n\n\nTHE ENTHRONED CHRIST\n\n\n'So then after the Lord had spoken unto them, He was received up into\nheaven, and sat on the right hand of God.'--Mark xvi. 19.\n\nHow strangely calm and brief is this record of so stupendous an event!\nDo these sparing and reverent words sound to you like the product of\ndevout imagination, embellishing with legend the facts of history? To\nme their very restrainedness, calmness, matter-of-factness, if I may\nso call it, are a strong guarantee that they are the utterance of an\neyewitness, who verily saw what he tells so simply. There is something\nsublime in the contrast between the magnificence and almost\ninconceivable grandeur of the thing communicated, and the quiet words,\nso few, so sober, so wanting in all detail, in which it is told.\n\nThat stupendous fact of Christ sitting at the right hand of God is the\none that should fill the present for us all, even as the Cross should\nfill the past, and the coming for Judgment should fill the future. So\nfor us the one central thought about the present, in its loftiest\nrelations, should be the throned Christ at God's right hand. It is to\nthat thought of the session of Jesus by the side of the Majesty of the\nHeavens that I wish to turn now, to try to bring out the profound\nteaching that is in it, and the practical lessons which it suggests. I\ndesire to emphasise very briefly four points, and to see, in Christ's\nsitting at the right hand, the revelation of these things:--The\nexalted Man, the resting Saviour, the interceding Priest, and the\never-active Helper.\n\nI. First, then, in that solemn and wondrous fact of Christ's sitting\nat the right hand of God, we have the exalted Man.\n\nWe are taught to believe, according to His own words, that in His\nascension Christ was but returning whence He came, and entering into\nthe 'glory which He had with the Father before the world was.' And\nthat impression of a return to His native and proper abode is strongly\nconveyed to us by the narrative of His ascension. Contrast it, for\ninstance, with the narrative of Elijah's rapture, or with the brief\nreference to Enoch's translation. The one was taken by God up into a\nregion and a state which he had not formerly traversed; the other was\nborne by a fiery chariot to the heavens; but Christ slowly sailed\nupwards, as it were, by His own inherent power, returning to His\nabode, and ascending up where He was before.\n\nBut whilst this is one side of the profound fact, there is another\nside. What was new in Christ's return to His Father's bosom? This,\nthat He took His Manhood with Him. It was 'the Everlasting Son of the\nFather,' the Eternal Word, which from the beginning 'was with God and\nwas God,' that came down from heaven to earth, to declare the Father;\nbut it was the Incarnate Word, the Man Christ Jesus, that went back\nagain. This most blessed and wonderful truth is taught with emphasis\nin His own words before the Council, 'Ye shall see the Son of _Man_\nsitting on the right hand of power.' Christ, then, to-day, bears a\nhuman body, not, indeed, the 'body of His humiliation,' but the body\nof His glory, which is none the less a true corporeal frame, and\nnecessarily requires a locality. His ascension, whithersoever He may\nhave gone, was the true carrying of a real humanity, complete in all\nits parts, Body, Soul, and Spirit, up to the very throne of God.\n\nWhere that locality is it is bootless to speculate. Scripture says\nthat He ascended up 'far above all heavens'; or, as the Epistle to the\nHebrews has it, in the proper translation, the High Priest 'is passed\n_through_ the heavens,' as if all this visible material creation was\nrent asunder in order that He might soar yet higher beyond its limits\nwherein reign mutation and decay. But wheresoever that place may be,\nthere is a place in which now, with a human body as well as a human\nspirit, Jesus is sitting 'at the right hand of God.'\n\nLet us thankfully think how, in the profound language of Scripture,\n'the Forerunner is for us entered'; how, in some mysterious manner, of\nwhich we can but dimly conceive, that entrance of Jesus in His\ncomplete humanity into the highest heavens is the preparation of a\nplace for us. It seems as if, without His presence there, there were\nno entrance for human nature within that state, and no power in a\nhuman foot to tread upon the crystal pavements of the celestial City,\nbut where He is, there the path is permeable, and the place native, to\nall who love and trust Him.\n\nWe may stand, therefore, with these disciples, and looking upwards as\nthe cloud receives Him out of our sight, our faith follows Him, still\nour Brother, still clothed with humanity, still wearing a bodily\nframe; and we say, as we lose Him from our vision, 'What is man'?\nCapable of being lifted to the most intimate participation in the\nglories of divinity, and though he be poor and weak and sinful here,\nyet capable of union and assimilation with the Majesty that is on\nhigh. For what Christ's Body is, the bodies of them that love and\nserve Him shall surely be, and He, the Forerunner, is entered there\nfor us; that we too, in our turn, may pass into the light, and walk in\nthe full blaze of the divine glory; as of old the children in the\nfurnace were, unconsumed, because companioned by 'One like unto the\nSon of Man.'\n\nThe exalted Christ, sitting at the right hand of God, is the Pattern\nof what is possible for humanity, and the prophecy and pledge of what\nwill be actual for all that love Him and bear the image of Him upon\nearth, that they may be conformed to the image of His glory, and be\nwith Him where He is. What firmness, what reality, what solidity this\nthought of the exalted bodily Christ gives to the else dim and vague\nconceptions of a Heaven beyond the stars and beyond our present\nexperience! I believe that no doctrine of a future life has strength\nand substance enough to survive the agonies of our hearts when we part\nfrom our dear ones, the fears of our spirits when we look into the\nunknown, inane future for ourselves; except only this which says\nHeaven is Christ and Christ is Heaven, and points to Him and says,\n'Where He is, there and that also shall His servants be.'\n\nII. Now, secondly, look at Christ's sitting at the right hand of God\nas presenting to our view the Resting Saviour.\n\nThat session expresses the idea of absolute repose after sore\nconflict. It is the same thought which is expressed in those solemn\nEgyptian colossal statues of deified conquerors, elevated to\nmysterious union with their gods, and yet men still, sitting before\ntheir temples in perfect stillness, with their mighty hands lying\nquiet on their restful limbs; with calm faces out of which toil and\npassion and change seem to have melted, gazing out with open eyes as\nover a silent, prostrate world. So, with the Cross behind, with all\nthe agony and weariness of the arena, the dust and the blood of the\nstruggle, left beneath, He 'sitteth at the right hand of God the\nFather Almighty.'\n\nThe rest of the Christ after His Cross is parallel with and carries\nthe same meaning as the rest of God after the Creation. Why do we read\n'He rested on the seventh day from all His works'? Did the Creative\nArm grow weary? Was there toil for the divine nature in the making of\na universe? Doth He not speak and it is done? Is not the calm,\neffortless forth-putting of His will the cause and the means of\nCreation? Does any shadow of weariness steal over that life which\nlives and is not exhausted? Does the bush consume in burning? Surely\nnot. He rested from His works, not because He needed to recuperate\nstrength after action by repose, but because the works were perfect,\nand in sign and token that His ideal was accomplished, and that no\nmore was needed to be done.\n\nAnd, in like manner, the Christ rests after His Cross, not because He\nneeded repose even after that terrible effort, or was panting after\nHis race, and so had to sit there to recover, but in token that His\nwork was finished and perfected, that all which He had come to do was\ndone; and in token, likewise, that the Father, too, beheld and\naccepted the finished work. Therefore, the session of Christ at the\nright hand of God is the proclamation from Heaven of what He cried\nwith His last dying breath upon the Cross: 'It is finished!' It is the\ndeclaration that the world has had all done for it that Heaven can do\nfor it. It is the declaration that all which is needed for the\nregeneration of humanity has been lodged in the very heart of the\nrace, and that henceforward all that is required is the evolving and\nthe development of the consequences of that perfect work which Christ\noffered upon the Cross. So the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews\ncontrasts the priests who stood 'daily ministering and offering\noftentimes the same sacrifices' which 'can never take away sin,' with\n'this Man who, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever,\nsat down at the right hand of God'; testifying thereby that His Cross\nis the complete, sufficient, perpetual atonement and satisfaction for\nthe sins of the whole world. So we have to look back to that past as\ninterpreted by this present, to that Cross as commented upon by this\nThrone, and to see in it the perfect work which any human soul may\ngrasp, and which all human souls need, for their acceptance and\nforgiveness. The Son of Man set at the right hand of God is Christ's\ndeclaration, 'I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do,'\nand is also God's declaration, 'This is My beloved Son, in whom I am\nwell pleased.'\n\nIII. Once more, we see here, in this great fact of Christ sitting at\nthe right hand of God, the interceding Priest.\n\nSo the Scripture declares. The Epistle to the Hebrews over and over\nagain reiterates that thought that we have a Priest who has 'passed\ninto the heavens,' there to 'appear in the presence of God for us.'\nAnd the Apostle Paul, in that great linked climax in the eighth\nchapter of the Epistle to the Romans, has it, 'Christ that died, yea\nrather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who\nalso maketh intercession for us.' There are deep mysteries connected\nwith that thought of the intercession of Christ. It does not mean that\nthe divine heart needs to be won to love and pity. It does not mean\nthat in any mere outward and formal fashion Christ pleads with God,\nand softens and placates the Infinite and Eternal love of the Father\nin the heavens. It, at least, plainly means this, that He, our Saviour\nand Sacrifice, is for ever in the presence of God; presenting His own\nblood as an element in the divine dealing with us, modifying the\nincidence of the divine law, and securing through His own merits and\nintercession the outflow of blessings upon our heads and hearts. It is\nnot a complete statement of Christ's work for us that He died for us.\nHe died that He might have somewhat to offer. He lives that He may be\nour Advocate as well as our propitiation with the Father. And just as\nthe High Priest once a year passed within the curtain, and there in\nthe solemn silence and solitude of the holy place sprinkled the blood\nthat he bore thither, not without trembling, and but for a moment\npermitted to stay in the awful Presence, thus, but in reality and for\never, with the joyful gladness of a Son in His 'own calm home, His\nhabitation from eternity,' Christ _abides_ in the Holy Place; and, at\nthe right hand of the Majesty of the Heavens, lifts up that prayer, so\nstrangely compact of authority and submission; 'Father, I _will_ that\nthese whom Thou hast given Me be with Me where I am.' The Son of Man\nat the right hand of God is our Intercessor with the Father. 'Seeing,\nthen, that we have a great High Priest that is passed through the\nheavens, let us come boldly to the Throne of Grace.'\n\nIV. Lastly, this great fact sets before us the ever-active Helper.\n\nThe 'right hand of God' is the Omnipotent energy of God, and howsoever\ncertainly the language of Scripture requires for its full\ninterpretation that we should firmly hold that Christ's glorified body\ndwells in a place, we are not to omit the other thought that to sit at\nthe right hand also means to wield the immortal energy of that divine\nnature, over all the field of the Creation, and in every province of\nHis dominion. So that the ascended Christ is the ubiquitous Christ;\nand He who is 'at the right hand of God' is wherever the power of God\nreaches throughout His whole Universe.\n\nRemember, too, that it was once given to a man to look through the\nopened heavens (through which Christ had 'passed') and to 'see the Son\nof Man standing'--not sitting--'at the right hand of God.' Why to the\ndying protomartyr was there granted that vision thus varied? Wherefore\nwas the attitude changed but to express the swiftness, the certainty\nof His help, and the eager readiness of the Lord, who starts to His\nfeet, as it were, to succour and to sustain His dying servant?\n\nAnd so, dear friends, we may take that great joyful truth that both as\nreceiving 'gifts for men' and bestowing gifts upon them, and as\nworking by His providence in the world, and on the wider scale for the\nwell-being of His children and of the Church, the Christ who sits at\nthe right hand of God wields, ever with eager cheerfulness, all the\npowers of omnipotence for our well-being, if we love and trust Him. We\nmay look quietly upon all perplexities and complications, because the\nhands that were pierced for us hold the helm and the reins, because\nthe Christ who is our Brother is the King, and sits supreme at the\ncentre of the Universe. Joseph's brethren, that came up in their\nhunger and their rags to Egypt, and found their brother next the\nthrone, were startled with a great joy of surprise, and fears were\ncalmed, and confidence sprang in their hearts. Shall not we be restful\nand confident when our Brother, the Son of Man, sits ruling all\nthings? 'We see not yet all things put under' us, 'but we see Jesus,'\nand that is enough.\n\nSo the ascended Man, the resting Saviour and His completed work, the\ninterceding Priest, and the ever-active Helper, are all brought before\nus in this great and blessed thought, 'Christ sitteth at the right\nhand of God.' Therefore, dear friends, set your affection on things\nabove. Our hearts travel where our dear ones are. Oh how strange and\nsad it is that professing Christians whose lives, if they are\nChristians at all, have their roots and are hid with Christ in God,\nshould turn so few, so cold thoughts and loves thither! Surely 'where\nyour treasure is there will your heart be also.' Surely if Christ is\nyour Treasure you will feel that with Him is home, and that this is a\nforeign land. 'Set your affection,' then, 'on things above,' while\nlife lasts, and when it is ebbing away, perhaps to our eyes too Heaven\nmay be opened, and the vision of the Son of Man standing to receive\nand to welcome us may be granted. And when it has ebbed away, His will\nbe the first voice to welcome us, and He will lift us to share in His\nglorious rest, according to His own wondrous promise, 'To him that\novercometh will I grant to sit with Me in My Throne, even as I also\novercame, and am set down with My Father in His Throne.'","title":"Expositions of Holy Scripture: St. Mark","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":200385}