(Joh 7:1-16; Luk 9:1-56; Luk_9:57-62; Mat_8:19-22)

The part in the Evangelic History which we have now reached has this peculiarity and difficulty, that the events are now recorded by only one of the Evangelists. The section from Luk_9:51 to Luk_18:14 stands absolutely alone. From the circumstance that Luke omits throughout his narrative all notation of time or place, the difficulty of arranging here the chronological succession of events is so great, that we can only suggest what seems most probable, without feeling certain of the details. Happily, the period embraced is a short one, while at the same time the narrative of Luke remarkably fits into that of John. John mentions three appearances of Christ in Jerusalem at that period: at the Feast of Tabernacles, at that of the Dedication, and His final entry, which is referred to by all the other Evangelists. But, while the narrative of John confines itself exclusively to what happened in Jerusalem or its immediate neighborhood, it also either mentions or gives sufficient indication that on two out of these three occasions Jesus left Jerusalem for the country east of the Jordan (Joh_10:19-21; Joh_10:39-42, where the words in Joh_10:39, ‘they sought again to take Him,’ point to a previous similar attempt and flight). Besides these, John also records a journey to Bethany – though not to Jerusalem – for the raising of Lazarus, and after that a council against Christ in Jerusalem, in consequence of which He withdrew out of Judaean territory into a district near ‘the wilderness’ – as we infer, that in the north, where John had been baptizing and Christ been tempted, and whither He had afterwards withdrawn. We regard this ‘wilderness’ as on the western bank of the Jordan, and extending northward towards the eastern shore of the Lake of Galilee. If John relates three appearances of Jesus at this time in Jerusalem, Luke records three journeys to Jerusalem, the last of which agrees, in regard to its starting point, with the notices of the other Evangelists, always supposing that we have correctly indicated the locality of ‘the wilderness’ whither, according to Joh_11:54, Christ retired previous to His last journey to Jerusalem. In this respect, although it is impossible with our present information to localise ‘the City of Ephraim,’ the statement that it was ‘near the wilderness,’ affords us sufficient general notice of its situation. For, the New Testament speaks of only two ‘wildernesses,’ that of Judaea in the far South, and that in the far North of Peraea, or perhaps in the Decapolis, to which Luke refers as the scene of the Baptist’s labours, where Jesus was tempted, and whither He afterwards withdrew. We can, therefore, have little doubt that John refers to this district. And this entirely accords with the notices by the other Evangelists of Christ’s last journey to Jerusalem, as through the borders of Galilee and Samaria, and then across the Jordan, and by Bethany to Jerusalem.

It follows (as previously stated) that Luke’s account of the three journeys to Jerusalem fits into the narrative of Christ’s three appearances in Jerusalem as described by John. And the unique section in Luke supplies the record of what took place before, during, and after those journeys, of which the upshot is told by John. This much seems certain; the exact chronological succession must be, in part, matter of suggestion. But we have now some insight into the plan of Luke’s Gospel, as compared with that of the others. We see that Luke forms a kind of transition, is a sort of connecting link between the other two Synoptists and John. This is admitted even by negative critics. The Gospel by Matthew has for its main object the Discourses or teaching of the Lord, around which the History groups itself. It is intended as a demonstration, primarily addressed to the Jews, and in a form peculiarly suited to them, that Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. The Gospel by Mark is a rapid survey of the History of the Christ as such. It deals mainly with the Galilean Ministry. The Gospel by John, which gives the highest, the reflective, view of the Eternal Son as the Word, deals almost exclusively with the Jerusalem Ministry. And the Gospel by Luke complements the narratives in the other two Gospels (Matthew and Mark), and it supplements them by tracing, what is not done otherwise: the Ministry in Peraea. Thus, it also forms a transition to the Fourth Gospel of the Judaean Ministry. If we may venture a step further: The Gospel by Mark gives the general view of the Christ; that by Matthew the Jewish, that by Luke the Gentile, and that by John the Church’s view. Imagination might, indeed, go still further, and see the impress of the number five – that of the Pentateuch and the Book of Psalms – in the First Gospel; the numeral four (that of the world) in the Second Gospel (4 x 4=16 chapters); that of three in the Third (8 x 3=24 chapters); and that of seven, the sacred Church number, in the Fourth Gospel (7 x 3=21 chapters). And perhaps we might even succeed in arranging the Gospels into corresponding sections. But this would lead, not only beyond our present task, but from solid history and exegesis into the regions of speculation.

The subject, then, primarily before us, is the journeying of Jesus to Jerusalem. In that wider view which Luke takes of this whole history, he presents what really were three separate journeys as one – that towards the great end. In its conscious aim and object, all – from the moment of His finally quitting Galilee to His final Entry into Jerusalem – formed, in the highest sense, only one journey. And this Luke designates in a peculiar manner. Just as he had spoken, not of Christ’s Death but of His ‘Exodus,’ or outgoing, which included His Resurrection and Ascension, so he now tells us that, ‘when the days of His uptaking’ – including and pointing to His Ascension – ‘were being fulfilled, He also steadfastly set His Face to go to Jerusalem.’

John, indeed, goes farther back, and speaks of the circumstances which preceded His journey to Jerusalem. There is an interval, or, as we might term it, a blank, of more than half a year between the last narrative in the Fourth Gospel and this. For, the events chronicled in the Gospel of Jn 6 took place immediately before the Passover, which was on the fifteenth day of the first ecclesiastical month (Nisan), while the Feast of Tabernacles began on the same day of the seventh ecclesiastical month (tishri). But, except in regard to the commencement of Christ’s Ministry, Jn 6 is the only one which refers to the Galilean Ministry of Christ. We would suggest, that what it records is partly intended to exhibit, by the side of Christ’s fully developed teaching, the fully developed enmity of the Jerusalem Scribes, which led even to the defection of many former disciples. Thus, Jn 6 would be a connecting-link (both as regards the teaching of Christ and the opposition to Him) between Jn 5, which tells of His visit at the ‘Unknown Feast,’ and Jn 7, which records that at the Feast of Tabernacles. The six or seven months between the Feast of Passover and that of Tabernacles, and all that passed within them, are covered by this brief remark: ‘After these things Jesus walked in Galilee: for He would not walk in Judaea, because the Jews [the leaders of the people] sought to kill Him.’

But now the Feast of Tabernacles was at hand. The pilgrims would probably arrive in Jerusalem before the opening day of the Festival. For, besides the needful preparations – which would require time, especially on this Feast, when booths had to be constructed in which to live during the festive week – it was (as we remember) the common practice to offer such sacrifices as might have previously become due at any of the great Feasts to which the people might go up. Remembering that five months had elapsed since the last great Feast (that of Weeks), many such sacrifices must have been due. Accordingly, the ordinary festive companies of pilgrims, which would travel slowly, must have started from Galilee some time before the beginning of the Feast. These circumstances fully explain the details of the narrative. They also afford another most painful illustration of the loneliness of Christ in His Work. His disciples had failed to understand, they misapprehended His teaching. In the near prospect of His Death they either displayed gross ignorance, or else disputed about their future rank. And His own ‘brethren’ did not believe in Him. The whole course of late events, especially the unmet challenge of the Scribes for ‘a sign from heaven,’ had deeply shaken them. What was the purpose of ‘works,’ if done in the privacy of the circle of Christ’s Apostles, in a house, a remote district, or even before an ignorant multitude? If, claiming to be the Messiah, He wished to be openly known as such, He must use other means. If He really did these things, let Him manifest Himself before the world – in Jerusalem, the capital of their world, and before those who could test the reality of His Works. Let Him come forward, at one of Israel’s great Feasts, in the Temple, and especially at this Feast which pointed to the Messianic ingathering of all nations. Let Him now go up with them in the festive company into Judaea, that so His disciples – not the Galileans only, but all – might have the opportunity of ‘gazing’ on His Works.

As the challenge was not new, so, from the worldly point of view, it can scarcely be called unreasonable. It is, in fact, the same in principle as that to which the world would now submit the claims of Christianity to men’s acceptance. It has only this one fault, that it ignores the world’s enmity to the Christ. Discipleship is not the result of any outward manifestation by ‘evidences’ or demonstration. It requires the conversion of a child-like spirit. To manifest Himself! This truly would He do, though not in their way. For this ‘the season’ had not yet come, though it would soon arrive. Their ‘season’ – that for such Messianic manifestations as they contemplated – was ‘always ready.’ And this naturally, for ‘the world’ could not ‘hate’ them; they and their demonstrations were quite in accordance with the world and its views. But towards Him the world cherished personal hatred, because of their contrariety of principle, because Christ was manifested, not to restore an earthly kingdom to Israel, but to bring the Heavenly Kingdom upon earth – ‘to destroy the works of the Devil.’ Hence, He must provoke the enmity of that world which lay in the Wicked One. Another manifestation than that which they sought would He make, when His ‘season was fulfilled;’ soon, beginning at this very Feast, continued at the next, and completed at the last Passover; such manifestation of Himself as the Christ, as could alone be made in view of the essential enmity of the world.

And so He let them go up in the festive company, while Himself tarried. When the noise and publicity (which He wished to avoid) were no longer to be apprehended, He also went up, but privately, not publicly, as they had suggested. Here Luke’s account begins. It almost reads like a commentary on what the Lord had just said to His brethren, about the enmity of the world, and His mode of manifestation – who would not, and who would receive Him, and why. ‘He came unto His own, and His own received Him not. But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become children of God… which were born… of God.’

The first purpose of Christ seems to have been to take the more direct road to Jerusalem, through Samaria, and not to follow that of the festive pilgrim-bands, which travelled to Jerusalem through Peraea, in order to avoid the hand of their hated rivals. But His intention was soon frustrated. In the very first Samaritan village to which the Christ had sent beforehand to prepare for Himself and His company, His messengers were told that the Rabbi could not be received; that neither hospitality nor friendly treatment could be extended to One Who was going up to the Feast at Jerusalem. The messengers who brought back this strangely un-Oriental answer met the Master and His followers on the road. It was not only an outrage on common manners, but an act of open hostility to Israel, as well as to Christ, and the ‘Sons of Thunder,’ whose feelings for their Master were, perhaps, the more deeply stirred as opposition to Him grew more fierce, proposed to vindicate the cause, alike of Israel and its Messiah-King, by the open and Divine judgment of fire called down from heaven to destroy that village. Did they in this connection think of the vision of Elijah, ministering to Christ on the Mount of Transfiguration – and was this their application of it? Truly, they knew not of what Spirit they were to be the children and messengers. He Who had come, not to destroy, but to save, turned and rebuked them, and passed from Samaritan into Jewish territory to pursue His journey. Perhaps, indeed, He had only passed into Samaria to teach His disciples this needful lesson. The view of this event just presented seems confirmed by the circumstance, that Matthew lays the scene immediately following ‘on the other side’ – that is, in the Decapolis.

It was a journey of deepest interest and importance. For, it was decisive not only as regarded the Master, but those who followed Him. Henceforth it must not be, as in former times, but wholly and exclusively, as into suffering and death. It is thus that we view the next three incidents of the way. Two of them find, also, a place in the Gospel by Matthew, although in a different connection, in accordance with the plan of that Gospel, which groups together the Teaching of Christ, with but secondary attention to chronological succession.

It seems that, as, after the rebuff of these Samaritans, they ‘were going’ towards another, and a Jewish village, ‘one’ of the company, and, as we learn from Matthew, ‘a Scribe,’ in the generous enthusiasm of the moment – perhaps, stimulated by the wrong of the Samaritans, perhaps, touched by the love which would rebuke the zeal of the disciples, but had no word of blame for the unkindness of others – broke into a spontaneous declaration of readiness to follow Him absolutely and everywhere. Like the benediction of the woman who heard Him, it was one of these outbursts of an enthusiasm which His Presence awakened in every susceptible heart. But there was one eventuality which that Scribe, and all of like enthusiasm, reckoned not with – the utter homelessness of the Christ in this world – and this, not from accidental circumstances, but because He was ‘the Son of Man.’ And there is here also material for still deeper thought in the fact that this man was ‘a Scribe,’ and yet had not gone up to the Feast, but tarried near Christ – was ‘one’ of those that followed Him now, and was capable of such feelings! How many whom we regard as Scribes, may be in analogous relation to the Christ, and yet how much of fair promise has failed to ripen into reality in view of the homelessness of Christ and Christianity in this world – the strangership of suffering which it involves to those who would follow, not somewhere, but absolutely, and everywhere?

The intenseness of the self-denial involved in following Christ, and its contrariety to all that was commonly received among men, was, purposely, immediately further brought out. This Scribe had proffered to follow Jesus. Another of his disciples He asked to follow Him, and that in circumstances of peculiar trial and difficulty. The expression ‘to follow’ a Teacher would, in those days, be universally understood as implying discipleship. Again, no other duty would be regarded as more sacred than that they, on whom the obligation naturally devolved, should bury the dead. To this everything must give way – even prayer, and the study of the Law. Lastly, we feel morally certain, that, when Christ called this disciple to follow Him, He was fully aware that at that very moment his father lay dead. Thus, He called him not only to homelessness – for this he might have been prepared – but to set aside what alike natural feeling and the Jewish Law seemed to impose on him as the most sacred duty. In the seemingly strange reply, which Christ made to the request to be allowed first to bury his father, we pass over the consideration that, according to Jewish law, the burial and mourning for a dead father, and the subsequent purifications, would have occupied many days, so that it might have been difficult, perhaps impossible, to overtake Christ. We would rather abide by the simple words of Christ. They teach us this very solemn and searching lesson, that there are higher duties than either those of the Jewish Law, or even of natural reverence, and a higher call than that of man. No doubt Christ had here in view the near call to the Seventy – of whom this disciple was to be one – to ‘go and preach the Kingdom of God.’ When the direct call of Christ to any work comes – that is, if we are sure of it from His own words, and not (as, alas! too often we do) only infer it by our own reasoning on His words – then every other call must give way. For, duties can never be in conflict – and this duty about the living and life must take precedence of that about death and the dead. Nor must we hesitate, because we know not in what form this work for Christ may come. There are critical moments in our inner history, when to postpone the immediate call, is really to reject it; when to go and bury the dead – even though it were a dead father – were to die ourselves!

Yet another hindrance to following Christ was to be faced. Another in the company that followed Christ would go with Him, but he asked permission first to go and bid farewell to those whom he had left in his home. It almost seems as if this request had been one of those ‘tempting’ questions, addressed to Christ. But, even if otherwise, the farewell proposed was not like that of Elisha, nor like the supper of Levi-Matthew. It was rather like the year which Jephtha’s daughter would have with her companions, ere fulfilling the vow. It shows, that to follow Christ was regarded as a duty, and to leave those in the earthly home as a trial; and it betokens, not merely a divided heart, but one not fit for the Kingdom of God. For, how can he draw a straight furrow in which to cast the seed, who, as he puts his hand to the plough, looks around or behind him?

Thus, these are the three vital conditions of following Christ: absolute self-denial and homelessness in the world; immediate and entire self-surrender to Christ and His Work, and a heart and affections simple, undivided, and set on Christ and His Work, to which there is no other trial of parting like that which would involve parting from Him, no other or higher joy than that of following Him. In such spirit let them now go after Christ in His last journey – and to such work as He will appoint them!

(Luk 10:1-16; Mat_9:36-38; Mat_11:20-24; Luk_10:17-24; Mat_11:25-30; Mat_13:16; Luk_10:25; Luk_10:38-42)

Although, for the reasons explained in the previous chapter, the exact succession of events cannot be absolutely determined, it seems most likely, that it was on His progress southwards at this time that Jesus ‘designated’ those ‘seventy’ ‘others,’ who were to herald His arrival in every town and village. Even the circumstance, that the instructions to them are so similar to, and yet distinct from, those formerly given to the Twelve, seems to point to them as those from whom the Seventy are to be distinguished as ‘other.’ We judge, that they were sent forth at this time, first, from the Gospel of Luke, where this whole section appears as a distinct and separate record, presumably, chronologically arranged; secondly, from the fitness of such a mission at that particular period, when Jesus made His last Missionary progress towards Jerusalem: and, thirdly, from the unlikelihood, if not impossibility, of taking such a public step after the persecution which broke out after His appearance at Jerusalem on the Feast of Tabernacles. At any rate, it could not have taken place later than in the period between the Feast of Tabernacles and that of the Dedication of the Temple, since, after that, Jesus ‘walked no more openly among the Jews.’

With all their similarity, there are notable differences between the Mission of the Twelve and this of ‘the other Seventy.’ Let it be noted, that the former is recorded by the three Evangelists, so that there could have been no confusion on the part of Luke. But the mission of the Twelve was on their appointment to the Apostolate; it was evangelistic and missionary; and it was in confirmation and manifestation of the ‘power and authority’ given to them. We regard it, therefore, as symbolical of the Apostolate just instituted, with its work and authority. On the other hand, no power or authority was formally conferred on the Seventy, their mission being only temporary, and, indeed, for one definite purpose; its primary object was to prepare for the coming of the Master in the places to which they were sent: and their selection was from the wider circle of disciples, the number being now Seventy instead of Twelve. Even these two numbers, as well as the difference in the functions of the two classes of messengers, seem to indicate that the Twelve symbolised the princes of the tribes of Israel, while the Seventy were the symbolical representatives of these tribes, like the seventy elders appointed to assist Moses.  This symbolical meaning of the number Seventy continued among the Jews. We can trace it in the LXX. (supposed) translators of the Bible into Greek, and in the seventy members of the Sanhedrin, or supreme court.

There was something very significant in this appearance of Christ’s messengers, by two and two, in every place He was about to visit. As John the Baptist had, at the first, heralded the Coming of Christ, so now two heralds appeared to solemnly announce His Advent at the close of His Ministry; as John had sought, as the representative of the Old Testament Church, to prepare His Way, so they, as the representatives of the New Testament Church. In both cases the preparation sought was a moral one. It was the national summons to open the gates to the rightful King, and accept His rule. Only, the need was now the greater for the failure of John’s mission, through the misunderstanding and disbelief of the nation. This conjunction with John the Baptist and the failure of his mission, as regarded national results, accounts for the insertion in Matthew’s Gospel of part of the address delivered on the Mission of the Seventy, immediately after the record of Christ’s rebuke of the national rejection of the Baptist. For Matthew, who (as well as Mark) records not the Mission of the Seventy – simply because (as before explained) the whole section, of which it forms part, is peculiar to Luke’s Gospel – reports ‘the Discourses’ connected with it in other, and to them congruous, connections.

We mark, that, what may be termed ‘the Preface’ to the Mission of the Seventy, is given by Matthew (in a somewhat fuller form) as that to the appointment and mission of the Twelve Apostles; and it may have been, that kindred words had preceded both. Partially, indeed, the expressions reported in Luk_10:2 had been employed long before. Those ‘multitudes’ throughout Israel – nay, those also which ‘are not of that flock’ – appeared to His view like sheep without a true shepherd’s care, ‘distressed and prostrate,’ and their mute misery and only partly conscious longing appealed, and not in vain, to His Divine compassion. This constituted the ultimate ground of the Mission of the Apostles, and now of that of the Seventy, into a harvest that was truly great. Compared with the extent of the field, and the urgency of the work, how few were the labourers! Yet, as the field was God’s, so also could He alone ‘thrust forth labourers’ willing and able to do His work, while it must be ours to pray that He would be pleased to do so.

On these introductory words, which ever since have formed ‘the bidding prayer’ of the Church in her work for Christ, followed the commission and special directions to the thirty-five pairs of disciples who went on this embassy. In almost every particular they are the same as those formerly given to the Twelve. We mark, however, that both the introductory and the concluding words addressed to the Apostles are wanting in what was said to the Seventy. It was not necessary to warn them against going to the Samaritans, since the direction of the Seventy was to those cities of Peraea and Judaea, on the road to Jerusalem, through which Christ was about to pass. Nor were they armed with precisely the same supernatural powers as the Twelve. Naturally, the personal directions as to their conduct were in both cases substantially the same. We mark only three peculiarities in those addressed to the Seventy. The direction to ‘salute no man by the way’ was suitable to a temporary and rapid mission, which might have been sadly interrupted by making or renewing acquaintances. Both the Mishnah and the Talmud lay it down, that prayer was not to be interrupted to salute even a king, nay, to uncoil a serpent that had wound round the foot. On the other hand, the Rabbis discussed the question, whether the reading of the shema and of the portion of the Ps called the halel might be interrupted at the close of a paragraph, from respect for a person, or interrupted in the middle, from motives of fear. All agreed, that immediately before prayer no one should be saluted, to prevent distraction, and it was advised rather to summarise or to cut short than to break into prayer, though the latter might be admissible in case of absolute necessity. None of these provisions, however, seems to have been in the mind of Christ. If any parallel is to be sought, it would be found in the similar direction of Elisha to Gehazi, when sent to lay the prophet’s staff on the dead child of the Shunammite.

The other two peculiarities in the address to the Seventy seem verbal rather than real. The expression, ‘if the Son of Peace be there,’ is a Hebraism, equivalent to ‘if the house be worthy,’ and refers to the character of the head of the house and the tone of the household. Lastly, the direction to eat and drink such things as were set before them is only a further explanation of the command to abide in the house which had received them, without seeking for better entertainment. On the other hand, the whole most important close of the address to the Twelve – which, indeed, forms by far the largest part of it – is wanting in the commission to the Seventy, thus clearly marking its merely temporary character.

In Luke’s Gospel, the address to the Seventy is followed by a denunciation of Chorazin and Bethsaida. This is evidently in its right place there, after the Ministry of Christ in Galilee had been completed and finally rejected. In Matthew’s Gospel, it stands (for a reason already indicated) immediately after the Lord’s rebuke of the popular rejection of the Baptist’s message. The ‘woe’ pronounced on those cities, in which ‘most of His mighty works were done,’ is in proportion to the greatness of their privileges. The denunciation of Chorazin and Bethsaida is the more remarkable, that Chorazin is not otherwise mentioned in the Gospels, nor yet any miracles recorded as having taken place in (the western) Bethsaida. From this two inferences seem inevitable. First, this history must be real. If the whole were legendary, Jesus would not be represented as selecting the names of places, which the writer had not connected with the legend. Again, apparently no record has been preserved in the Gospels of most of Christ’s miracles – only those being narrated which were necessary in order to present Jesus as the Christ, in accordance with the respective plans on which each of the Gospels was constructed.

As already stated, the denunciations were in proportion to the privileges, and hence to the guilt, of the unbelieving cities. Chorazin and Bethsaida are compared with Tyre and Sidon, which under similar admonitions would have repented, while Capernaum, which, as for so long the home of Jesus, had truly ‘been exalted to heaven,’ is compared with Sodom. And such guilt involved greater punishment. The very site of Bethsaida and Chorazin cannot be fixed with certainty. The former probably represents the ‘Fisherton’ of Capernaum, the latter seems to have almost disappeared from the shore of the Lake. Jerome places it two miles from Capernaum. If so, it may be represented by the modern Kerâzeh, somewhat to the north-west of Capernaum. The site would correspond with the name. For Kerâzeh is at present ‘a spring with an insignificant ruin above it,’ and the name Chorazin may well be derived from keroz (כְּרוֹז) a water-jar – Cherozin, or ‘Chorazin,’ the water-jars. If so, we can readily understand that the ‘Fisherton’ on the south side of Capernaum, and the well-known springs, ‘Chorazin,’ on the other side of it, may have been the frequent scene of Christ’s miracles. This explains also, in part, why the miracles there wrought had not been told as well as those done in Capernaum itself. In the Talmud a Chorazin, or rather Chorzim, is mentioned as celebrated for its wheat. But as for Capernaum itself – standing on that vast field of ruins and upturned stones which marks the site of the modern Tell Hûm, we feel that no description of it could be more pictorially true than that in which Christ prophetically likened the city in its downfall to the desolateness of death and ‘Hades.’

Whether or not the Seventy actually returned to Jesus before the Feast of Tabernacles, it is convenient to consider in this connection the result of their Mission. It had filled them with the ‘joy’ of assurance; nay, the result had exceeded their expectations, just as their faith had gone beyond the mere letter unto the spirit of His Words. As they reported it to Him, even the demons had been subject to them through His Name. In this they had exceeded the letter of Christ’s commission; but as they made experiment of it, their faith had grown, and they had applied His command to ‘heal the sick’ to the worst of all sufferers, those grievously vexed by demons. And, as always, their faith was not disappointed. Nor could it be otherwise. The great contest had been long decided; it only remained for the faith of the Church to gather the fruits of that victory. The Prince of Light and Life had vanquished the Prince of Darkness and Death. The Prince of this world must be cast out. In spirit, Christ gazed on ‘Satan fallen as lightning from heaven.’ As one has aptly paraphrased it: While you cast out his subjects, I saw the prince himself fall.’ It has been asked, whether the words of Christ referred to any particular event, such as His Victory in the Temptation. But any such limitation would imply grievous misunderstanding of the whole. So to speak, the fall of Satan is to the bottomless pit; ever going on to the final triumph of Christ. As the Lord beholds him, he is fallen from heaven – from the seat of power and of worship; for, his mastery is broken by the Stronger than he. And he is fallen like lightning, in its rapidity, dazzling splendour, and destructiveness. Yet as we perceive it, it is only demons cast out in His Name. For still is this fight and sight continued, and to all ages of the present dispensation. Each time the faith of the Church casts out demons – whether as formerly, or as they presently vex men, whether in the lighter combat about possession of the body, or in the sorer fight about possession of the soul – as Christ beholds it, it is ever Satan fallen. For, he sees of the travail of His soul, and is satisfied. And so also is there joy in heaven over every sinner that repenteth. The authority and power over ‘the demons,’ attained by faith, was not to pass away with the occasion that had called it forth. The Seventy were the representatives of the Church in her work of preparing for the Advent of Christ. As already indicated, the sight of Satan fallen from heaven is the continuous history of the Church. What the faith of the Seventy had attained was now to be made permanent to the Church, whose representatives they were. For, the words in which Christ now gave authority and power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the Enemy, and the promise that nothing should hurt them, could not have been addressed to the Seventy for a Mission which had now come to an end, except in so far as they represented the Church Universal. It is almost needless to add, that those ‘serpents and scorpions’ are not to be literally but symbolically understood.  Yet it is not this power or authority which is to be the main joy either of the Church or the individual, but the fact that our names are written in heaven. And so Christ brings us back to His great teaching about the need of becoming children, and wherein lies the secret of true greatness in the Kingdom.

It is beautifully in the spirit of all this, when we read that the joy of the disciples was met by that of the Master, and that His teaching presently merged into a prayer of thanksgiving. Throughout the occurrences since the Transfiguration, we have noticed an increasing antithesis to the teaching of the Rabbis. But it almost reached its climax in the thanksgiving, that the Father in heaven had hid these things from the wise and the understanding, and revealed them unto babes. As we view it in the light of those times, we know that ‘the wise and understanding’ – the Rabbi and the Scribe – could not, from their standpoint, have perceived them; nay, that it is matter of never-ending thanks that, not what they, but what ‘the babes,’ understood, was – as alone it could be – the subject of the Heavenly Father’s revelation. We even tremble to think how it would have fared with ‘the babes,’ if ‘the wise and understanding’ had had part with them in the knowledge revealed. And so it must ever be, not only the Law of the Kingdom and the fundamental principle of Divine Revelation, but matter for thanksgiving, that, not as ‘wise and understanding,’ but only as ‘babes’-as ‘converted,’ ‘like children’ – we can share in that knowledge which maketh wise unto salvation. And this truly is the Gospel, and the Father’s good pleasure.

The words, with which Christ turned from this Address to the Seventy and thanksgiving to God, seem almost like the Father’s answer to the prayer of the Son. They refer to, and explain, the authority which Jesus had bestowed on His Church: ‘All things were delivered to Me of My Father;’ and they afford the highest rationale for the fact, that these things had been hid from the wise and revealed unto babes. For, as no man, only the Father, could have full knowledge of the Son, and, conversely, no man, only the Son, had true knowledge of the Father, it followed, that this knowledge came to us, not of Wisdom or learning, but only through the Revelation of Christ: ‘No one knoweth Who the Son is, save the Father; and Who the Father is, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son willeth to reveal Him.’

Matthew, who also records this – although in a different connection, immediately after the denunciation of the unbelief of Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum – concludes this section by words which have ever since been the grand text of those who, following in the wake of the Seventy, have been ambassadors for Christ. On the other hand, Luke concludes this part of his narrative by adducing words equally, congruous to the occasion which, indeed, are not new in the mouth of the Lord. From their suitableness to what had preceded, we can have little doubt that both that which Matthew, and that which Luke, reports was spoken on this occasion. Because knowledge of the Father came only through the Son, and because these things were hidden from the wise and revealed to ‘babes,’ did the gracious Lord open His Arms so wide, and bid all that laboured and were heavy laden come to Him. These were the sheep, distressed and prostrate, whom to gather, that He might give them rest, He had sent forth the Seventy on a work, for which He had prayed the Father to thrust forth labourers, and which He has since entrusted to the faith and service of love of the Church. And the true wisdom, which qualified for the Kingdom, was to take up His yoke, which would be found easy, and a lightsome burden, not like that unbearable yoke of Rabbinic conditions; and the true understanding to be sought, was by learning of Him. In that wisdom of entering the Kingdom by taking up its yoke, and in that knowledge which came by learning of Him, Christ was Himself alike the true lesson and the best Teacher for those ‘babes.’ For He is meek and lowly in heart. He had done what He taught, and He taught what He had done; and so, by coming unto Him, would true rest be found for the soul.

These words, as recorded by Matthew – the Evangelist of the Jews – must have sunk the deeper into the hearts of Christ’s Jewish hearers, that they came in their own old familiar form of speech, yet with such contrast of spirit. One of the most common figurative expressions of the time was that of ‘the yoke’(עול), to indicate submission to an occupation or obligation. Thus, we read not only of the ‘yoke of the Law,’ but of that of ‘earthly governments,’ and ordinary ‘civil obligations.’ Very instructive for the understanding of the figure is this paraphrase of Son_1:10 : ‘How beautiful is their neck for bearing the yoke of Thy statutes: and it shall be upon them like the yoke on the neck of the ox that plougheth in the field, and provideth food for himself and his master.  This yoke might be ‘cast off,’ as the ten tribes had cast off that ‘of God,’ and thus brought on themselves their exile. On the other hand, to ‘take upon oneself the yoke’ (קבל עול) meant to submit to it of free choice and deliberate resolution. Thus, in the allegorism of the Midrash, in the inscription, Pro_30:1, concerning ‘Agur, the son of Jakeh’ – which is viewed as a symbolical designation of Solomon – the word ‘masa,’ rendered in the Authorized Version ‘prophesy,’ is thus explained in reference to Solomon: ‘masa, because he lifted on himself (nasa) the yoke of the Holy One, blessed be He.’ And of Isaiah it was said, that he had been privileged to prophesy of so many blessings, ‘because he had taken upon himself the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven with joy.  And, as previously stated, it was set forth that in the ‘shema,’ or Creed – which was repeated every day – the words, Deu_6:4-9, were recited before those in Deu_11:13-21, so as first generally to ‘take upon ourselves the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven, and only afterwards that of the commandments.’  And this yoke all Israel had taken upon itself, thereby gaining the merit ever afterwards imputed to them.

Yet, practically, ‘the yoke of the Kingdom’ was none other than that ‘of the Law’ and ‘of the commandments;’ one of laborious performances and of impossible self-righteousness. It was ‘unbearable,’ not ‘the easy’ and lightsome yoke of Christ, in which the Kingdom of God was of faith, not of works. And, as if themselves to bear witness to this, we have this saying of theirs, terribly significant in this connection: ‘Not like those formerly (the first), who made for themselves the yoke of the Law easy and light; but like those after them (those afterwards), who made the yoke of the Law upon them heavy!’ And, indeed, this voluntary making of the yoke as heavy as possible, the taking on themselves as many obligations as possible, was the ideal of Rabbinic piety. There was, therefore, peculiar teaching and comfort in the words of Christ; and well might He add, as Luke reports, that blessed were they who saw and heard these things. For, that Messianic Kingdom, which had been the object of rapt vision and earnest longing to prophets and kings of old had now become reality.

Abounding as this history is in contrasts, it seems not unlikely, that the scene next recorded by Luke stands in its right place. Such an inquiry on the part of a ‘certain lawyer,’ as to what he should do to inherit eternal life, together with Christ’s Parabolic teaching about the Good Samaritan, is evidently congruous to the previous teaching of Christ about entering into the Kingdom of Heaven. Possibly, this Scribe may have understood the words of the Master about these things being hid from the wise, and the need of taking up the yoke of the Kingdom, as enforcing the views of those Rabbinic teachers, who laid more stress upon good works than upon study. Perhaps himself belonged to that minority, although his question was intended to tempt – to try whether the Master would stand the Rabbinic test, alike morally and dialectically. And, without at present entering on the Parable which gives Christ’s final answer (and which will best be considered together with the others belonging to that period), it will be seen how peculiarly suited it was to the state of mind just supposed.

From this interruption, which, but for the teaching of Christ connected with it, would have formed a terrible discord in the heavenly harmony of this journey, we turn to a far other scene. It follows in the course of Luke’s narrative, and we have no reason to consider it out of its proper place. If so, it must mark the close of Christ’s journey to the Feast of Tabernacles, since the home of Martha and Mary, to which it introduces us, was in Bethany, close to Jerusalem, almost one of its suburbs. Other indications, confirmatory of this note of time, are not wanting. Thus, the history which follows that of the home of Bethany, when one of His disciples asks Him to teach them to pray, as the Baptist had similarly taught his followers, seems to indicate, that they were then on the scene of John’s former labours – north-east of Bethany; and, hence, that it occurred on Christ’s return from Jerusalem. Again, from the narrative of Christ’s reception in the house of Martha, we gather that Jesus had arrived in Bethany with His disciples, but that He alone was the guest of the two sisters. We infer that Christ had dismissed His disciples to go into the neighbouring City for the Feast, while Himself tarried in Bethany. Lastly, with all this agrees the notice in Joh_7:14, that it was not at the beginning, but ‘about the midst of the feast,’ that ‘Jesus went up into the Temple.’ Although travelling on the two first festive days was not actually unlawful, yet we can scarcely conceive that Jesus would have done so – especially on the Feast of Tabernacles; and the inference is obvious, that Jesus had tarried in the immediate neighbourhood, as we know He did at Bethany in the house of Martha and Mary.

Other things, also, do so explain themselves – notably, the absence of the brother of Martha and Mary, who probably spent the festive days in the City itself. It was the beginning of the Feast of Tabernacles, and the scene recorded by Luke would take place in the open leafy booth which served as the sitting apartment during the festive week. For, according to law, it was duty during the festive week to eat, sleep, pray, study – in short, to live – in these booths, which were to be constructed of the boughs of living trees. And, although this was not absolutely obligatory on women, yet, the rule which bade all make ‘the booth the principal, and the house only the secondary dwelling,’ would induce them to make this leafy tent at least the sitting apartment alike for men and women. And, indeed, those autumn days were just the season when it would be joy to sit in these delightful cool retreats – the memorials of Israel’s pilgrim-days! They were high enough, and yet not too high; chiefly open in front; close enough to be shady, and yet not so close as to exclude sunlight and air. Such would be the apartment in which what is recorded passed; and, if we add that this booth stood probably in the court, we can picture to ourselves Martha moving forwards and backwards on her busy errands, and seeing, as she passed again and again, Mary still sitting a rapt listener, not heeding what passed around; and, lastly, how the elder sister could, as the language of Luk_10:40 implies, enter so suddenly the Master’s Presence, bringing her complaint.

To understand this history, we must dismiss from our minds preconceived, though, perhaps, attractive thoughts. There is no evidence that the household of Bethany had previously belonged to the circle of Christ’s professed disciples. It was, as the whole history shows, a wealthy home. It consisted of two sisters – the elder, Martha (a not uncommon Jewish name, being the feminine of mar, and equivalent to our word ‘mistress’); the younger, Mary; and their brother Lazarus, or, laazar. Although we know not how it came, yet, evidently, the house was Martha’s, and into it she received Jesus on His arrival in Bethany. It would have been no uncommon occurrence in Israel for a pious, wealthy lady to receive a great Rabbi into her house. But the present was not an ordinary case. Martha must have heard of Him, even if she had not seen Him. But, indeed, the whole narrative implies, that Jesus had come to Bethany with the view of accepting the hospitality of Martha, which probably had been proffered when some of those ‘Seventy,’ sojourning in the worthiest house at Bethany, had announced the near arrival of the Master. Still, her bearing affords only indication of being drawn towards Christ – at most, of a sincere desire to learn the good news, not of actual discipleship.

And so Jesus came – and, with Him and in Him, Heaven’s own Light and Peace. He was to lodge in one of the booths, the sisters in the house, and the great booth in the middle of the courtyard would be the common living apartment of all. It could not have been long after His arrival – it must have been almost immediately, that the sisters felt they had received more than an Angel unawares. How best to do Him honour, was equally the thought of both. To Martha it seemed, as if she could not do enough in showing Him all hospitality. And, indeed, this festive season was a busy time for the mistress of a wealthy household, especially in the near neighbourhood of Jerusalem, whence her brother might, after the first two festive days, bring with him, any time that week, honoured guests from the City. To these cares was now added that of doing sufficient honour to such a Guest – for she, also, deeply felt His greatness. And so she hurried to and fro through the courtyard, literally, ‘distracted about much serving.’

Her younger sister, also, would do Him all highest honour; but, not as Martha. Her homage consisted in forgetting all else but Him, Who spake as none had ever done. As truest courtesy or affection consists, nor in its demonstrations, but in being so absorbed in the object of it as to forget its demonstration, so with Mary in the Presence of Christ. And then a new Light, another Day had risen upon her; a fresh life had sprung up within her soul: ‘She sat at the Lord’s Feet, and heard his Word.’ We dare not inquire, and yet we well know, of what it would be. And so, time after time – perhaps, hour after hour – as Martha passed on her busy way, she still sat listening and living. At last, the sister who, in her impatience, could not think that a woman could, in such manner, fulfil her duty, or show forth her religious profiting, broke in with what sounds like a querulous complaint: ‘Lord, dost Thou not care that my sister did leave me to serve alone?’ Mary had served with her, but she had now left her to do the work alone. Would the Master bid her resume her neglected work? But, with tone of gentle reproof and admonition, the affectionateness of which appeared even in the repetition of her name, Martha, Martha – as, similarly, on a later occasion, Simon, Simon – did He teach her in words which, however simple in their primary meaning, are so full, that they have ever since borne the most many-sided application: ‘Thou art careful and anxious about many things; but one thing is needful; and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.’ It was, as we imagine, perhaps the first day of, or else the preparation for, the Feast. More than that one day did Jesus tarry in the home of Bethany. Whether Lazarus came then to see Him – and, still more, what both Martha and Mary learned, either then, or afterwards, we reverently forbear to search into. Suffice it, that though the natural disposition of the sisters remained what it had been, yet henceforth, ‘Jesus loved Martha and her sister.’

(Joh 7:11-36)

It was ḥol ha moed – as the non-sacred part of the festive week, the half-holy days were called. Jerusalem, the City of Solemnities, the City of Palaces, the City of beauty and glory, wore quite another than its usual aspect; other, even, than when its streets were thronged by festive pilgrims during the Passover-week, or at Pentecost. For this was pre-eminently the Feast for foreign pilgrims, coming from the farthest distance, whose Temple-contributions were then received and counted. Despite the strange costumes of Media, Arabia, Persia, or India, and even further; or the Western speech and bearing of the pilgrims from Italy, Spain, the modern Crimea, and the banks of the Danube, if not from yet more strange and barbarous lands, it would not be difficult to recognise the lineaments of the Jew, nor to perceive that to change one’s clime was not to change one’s mind. As the Jerusalemite would look with proud self-consciousness, not unmingled with kindly patronage, on the swarthy strangers, yet fellow-countrymen, or the eager-eyed Galilean curiously stare after them, the pilgrims would, in turn, gaze with mingled awe and wonderment on the novel scene. Here was the realisation of their fondest dreams ever since childhood, the home and spring of their holiest thoughts and best hopes – that which gave inward victory to the vanquished, and converted persecution into anticipated triumph.

They could come at this season of the year – not during the winter for the Passover, nor yet quite so readily in summer’s heat or Pentecost. But now, in the delicious cool of early autumn, when all harvest-operations, the gathering in of luscious fruit and the vintage were past, and the first streaks of gold were tinting the foliage, strangers from afar off, and countrymen from Judaea, Peraea, and Galilee, would mingle in the streets at Jerusalem, under the ever-present shadow of that glorious Sanctuary of marble, cedarwood, and gold, up there on high Moriah, symbol of the infinitely more glorious overshadowing Presence of Him, Who was the Holy One in the midst of Israel. How all day long, even till the stars lit up the deep blue canopy over head, the smoke of the burning, smouldering sacrifices rose in slowly-widening column, and hung between the Mount of Olives and Zion; how the chant of Levites, and the solemn responses of the halel were borne on the breeze, or the clear blast of the Priests’ silver trumpets seemed to waken the echoes far away! And then, at night, how all these vast Temple-buildings stood out, illuminated by the great Candelabras that burned in the Court of the Women, and by the glare of torches, when strange sound of mystic hymns and dances came floating over the intervening darkness! Truly, well might Israel designate the Feast of Tabernacles as ‘the Feast’ (haḥag), and the Jewish historian describe it as ‘the holiest and greatest.’ 

Early on the 14th Tishri (corresponding to our September or early October), all the festive pilgrims had arrived. Then it was, indeed, a scene of bustle and activity. Hospitality had to be sought and found; guests to be welcomed and entertained; all things required for the feast to be got ready. Above all, booths must be erected everywhere – in court and on housetop, in street and square, for the lodgment and entertainment of that vast multitude; leafy dwellings everywhere, to remind of the wilderness-journey, and now of the goodly land. Only that fierce castle, Antonia, which frowned above the Temple, was undecked by the festive spring into which the land had bur To the Jew it must have been a hateful sight, that castle, which guarded and dominated his own City and Temple – hateful sight and sounds, that Roman garrison, with its foreign, heathen, ribald speech and manners. Yet, for all this, Israel could not read on the lowering sky the signs of the times, nor yet knew the day of their merciful visitation. And this, although of all festivals, that of Tabernacles should have most clearly pointed them to the future.

Indeed, the whole symbolism of the Feast, beginning with the completed harvest, for which it was a thanksgiving, pointed to the future. The Rabbis themselves admitted this. The strange number of sacrificial bullocks – seventy in all – they regarded as referring to ‘the seventy nations’ of heathendom. The ceremony of the outpouring of water, which was considered of such vital importance as to give to the whole festival the name of ‘House of Outpouring,’ was symbolical of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. As the brief night of the great Temple-illumination closed, there was solemn testimony made before Jehovah against heathenism. It must have been a stirring scene, when from out of the mass of Levites, with their musical instruments, who crowded the fifteen steps that led from the Court of Israel to that of the Women, stepped two priests with their silver trumpets. As the first cockcrowing intimated the dawn of morn, they blew a threefold blast; another on the tenth step, and yet another threefold blast as they entered the Court of the Women. And still sounding their trumpets, they marched through the Court of the Women to the Beautiful Gate. Here, turning round and facing westwards to the Holy Place, they repeated: ‘Our fathers, who were in this place, they turned their backs on the Sanctuary of Jehovah, and their faces eastward, for they worshipped eastward, the sun; but we, our eyes are towards Jehovah.’ ‘We are Jehovah’s – our eyes are towards Jehovah.  Nay, the whole of this night- and morning-scene was symbolical: the Temple-illumination, of the light which was to shine from out the Temple into the dark night of heathendom; then, at the first dawn of morn the blast of the priests’ silver trumpets, of the army of God, as it advanced, with festive trumpet-sound and call, to awaken the sleepers, marching on to quite the utmost bounds of the Sanctuary, to the Beautiful Gate, which opened upon the Court of the Gentiles – and, then again, facing round to utter solemn protest against heathenism, and make solemn confession of Jehovah!

But Jesus did not appear in the Temple during the first two festive days. The pilgrims from all parts of the country – perhaps, they from abroad also – had expected Him there, for everyone would now speak of Him – ‘not openly,’ in Jerusalem, for they were afraid of their rulers. It was hardly safe to speak of Him without reserve. But they sought Him, and inquired after Him – and they did speak of Him, though there was only a murmuring – a low, confused discussion of the pro and con, in this great controversy among the ‘multitudes,’ or festive bands from various parts. Some said: He is a good man, while others declared that He only led astray the common, ignorant populace. And now, all at once, in ḥol ha moed, Jesus Himself appeared in the Temple, and taught. We know that, on a later occasion, He walked and taught in ‘Solomon’s Porch,’ and, from the circumstance that the early disciples made this their common meeting-place, we may draw the inference that it was here the people now found Him. Although neither Josephus nor the Mishnah mention this ‘Porch’ by name, we have every reason for believing that it was the eastern colonnade, which abutted against the Mount of Olives and faced ‘the Beautiful Gate,’ that formed the principal entrance into the ‘Court of the Women,’ and so into the Sanctuary. For, all along the inside of the great wall which formed the Temple-enclosure ran a double colonnade – each column a monolith of white marble, 25 cubits high, covered with cedar-beams. That on the south side (leading from the western entrance to Solomon’s Porch), known as the ‘Royal Porch,’ was a threefold colonnade, consisting of four rows of columns, each 27 cubits high, and surmounted by Corinthian capitals. We infer that the eastern was ‘Solomon’s Porch,’ from the circumstance that it was the only relic left of Solomon’s Temple. These colonnades, which, from their ample space, formed alike places for quiet walk and for larger gatherings, had benches in them – and, from the liberty of speaking and teaching in Israel, Jesus might here address the people in the very face of His enemies.

We know not what was the subject of Christ’s teaching on this occasion. But the effect on the people was one of general astonishment. They knew what common unlettered Galilean tradesmen were – but this, whence came it? ‘How does this one know literature (letters, learning), never having learned?’ To the Jews there was only one kind of learning – that of Theology; and only one road to it – the Schools of the Rabbis. Their major was true, but their minor false – and Jesus hastened to correct it. He had, indeed, ‘learned,’ but in a School quite other than those which alone they recognised. Yet, on their own showing, it claimed the most absolute submission. Among the Jews a Rabbi’s teaching derived authority from the fact of its accordance with tradition – that it accurately represented what had been received from a previous great teacher, and so on upwards to Moses, and to God Himself. On this ground Christ claimed the highest authority. His doctrine was not His own invention – it was the teaching of Him that sent Him. The doctrine was God-received, and Christ was sent direct from God to bring it. He was God’s messenger of it to them. Of this twofold claim there was also twofold evidence. Did He assert that what He taught was God-received? Let trial be made of it. Everyone who in his soul felt drawn towards God; each one who really ‘willeth to do His Will,’ would know ‘concerning this teaching, whether it is of God,’ or whether it was of man. It was this felt, though unrealised influence which had drawn all men after Him, so that they hung on His lips. It was this which, in the hour of greatest temptation and mental difficulty, had led Peter, in name of the others, to end the sore inner contest by laying hold on this fact: ‘To whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life – and we have believed and know, that Thou art the Holy One of God. Marking, as we pass, that this inward connection between that teaching and learning and the present occasion, may be the deeper reason why, in the Gospel by John, the one narrative is immediately followed by the other, we pause to say, how real it hath proved in all ages and to all stages of Christian learning – that the heart makes the truly God-taught (‘pectus facit Theologum’), and that inward, true aspiration after the Divine prepares the eye to behold the Divine Reality in the Christ. But, if it be so is there not evidence here, that He is the God – sent that He is a real, true Ambassador of God? If Jesus’ teaching meets and satisfies our moral nature, if it leads up to God, is He not the Christ?

And this brings us to the second claim which Christ made, that of being sent by God. There is yet another logical link in His reasoning. He had said: ‘He shall know of the teaching, whether it be of God, or whether I speak from Myself.’ From Myself? Why, there is this other test of it: ‘Who speaketh from himself, seeketh his own glory – there can be no doubt or question of this, but do I seek My own glory?’ – ‘But He Who seeketh the glory of Him Who sent Him, He is true [a faithful messenger], and unrighteousness is not in Him.’ Thus did Christ appeal and prove it: My doctrine is of God, and I am sent of God!

Sent of God, no unrighteousness in Him! And yet at that very moment there hung over Him the charge of defiance of the Law of Moses, nay, of that of God, in an open breach of the Sabbath-commandment – there, in that very City, the last time He had been in Jerusalem; for which, as well as for His Divine claims, the Jews were even then seeking ‘to kill Him.’ And this forms the transition to what may be called the second part of Christ’s address. If, in the first part, the Jewish form of ratiocination was already apparent, it seems almost impossible for any one acquainted with those forms to understand how it can be overlooked in what follows. It is exactly the mode in which a Jew would argue with Jews, only the substance of the reasoning is to all times and people. Christ is defending Himself against a charge which naturally came up, when He claimed that His Teaching was of God and Himself God’s real and faithful Messenger. In His reply the two threads of the former argument are taken up. Doing is the condition of knowledge – and a messenger had been sent from God! Admittedly, Moses was such, and yet every one of them was breaking the Law which he had given them; for, were they not seeking to kill Him without right or justice? This, put in the form of a double question, represents a peculiarly Jewish mode of argumentation, behind which lay the terrible truth, that those, whose hearts were so little longing to do the Will of God, not only must remain ignorant of His Teaching as that of God, but had also rejected that of Moses.

A general disclaimer, a cry ‘Thou hast a demon’ (art possessed), ‘who seeks to kill Thee?’ here broke in upon the Speaker. But He would not be interrupted, and continued: ‘One work I did, and all you wonder on account of it’ – referring to His healing on the Sabbath, and their utter inability to understand His conduct. Well, then, Moses was a messenger of God, and I am sent of God. Moses gave the law of circumcision – not, indeed, that it was of his authority, but had long before been God-given – and, to observe this law, no one hesitated to break the Sabbath, since, according to Rabbinic principle, a positive ordinance superseded a negative. And yet, when Christ, as sent from God, made a man every whit whole on the Sabbath (‘made a whole man sound’) they were angry with Him! Every argument which might have been urged in favour of the postponement of Christ’s healing to a week-day, would equally apply to that of circumcision; while every reason that could be urged in favour of Sabbath-circumcision, would tell an hundredfold in favour of the act of Christ. Oh, then, let them not judge after the mere outward appearance, but ‘judge the right judgment.’ And, indeed, had it not been to convince them of the externalism of their views, that Jesus had on that Sabbath opened the great controversy between the letter that killeth and the spirit that maketh alive, when He directed the impotent man to carry home the bed on which he had lain?

If any doubt could obtain, how truly Jesus had gauged the existing state of things, when He contrasted heart-willingness to do the, Will of God, as the necessary preparation for the reception of His God-sent Teaching, with their murderous designs, springing from blind literalism and ignorance of the spirit of their Law, the reported remarks of some Jerusalemites in the crowd would suffice to convince us. The fact that He, Whom they sought to kill, was suffered to speak openly, seemed to them incomprehensible. Could it be that the authorities were shaken in their former idea about Him, and now regarded Him as the Messiah? But it could not be. It was a settled popular belief, and, in a sense, not quite unfounded, that the appearance of the Messiah would be sudden and unexpected. He might be there, and not be known; or He might come, and be again hidden for a time.  As they put it, when Messiah came, no one would know whence He was; but they all knew ‘whence this One’ was. And with this rough and ready argument of a coarse realism, they, like so many among us, settled off-hand and once for all the great question. But Jesus could not, even for the sake of His poor weak disciples, let it rest there. ‘Therefore’ He lifted up His voice, that it reached the dispersing, receding multitude. Yes, they thought they knew both Him and whence He came. It would have been so had He come from Himself. But He had been sent, and He that sent Him ‘was real;’ it was a real Mission, and Him, who had thus sent the Christ, they knew not. And so, with a reaffirmation of His twofold claim, His Discourse closed. But they had understood His allusions, and in their anger would fain have laid hands on Him, but His hour had not come. Yet others were deeply stirred to faith. As they parted they spoke of it among themselves, and the sum of it all was: ‘The Christ, when He cometh, will He do more miracles (signs) than this One did?’

So ended the first teaching of that day in the Temple. And as the people dispersed, the leaders of the Pharisees – who, no doubt aware of the presence of Christ in the Temple, yet unwilling to be in the number of His hearers, had watched the effect of His Teaching – overheard the low, furtive, half-outspoken remarks (‘the murmuring’) of the people about Him. Presently they conferred with the heads of the priesthood and the chief Temple-officials. Although there was neither meeting, nor decree of the Sanhedrin about it, nor, indeed, could be, orders were given to the Temple-guard on the first possible occasion to seize Him. Jesus was aware of it, and as, either on this or another day, He was moving in the Temple, watched by the spies of the rulers and followed by a mingled crowd of disciples and enemies, deep sadness in view of the end filled His heart. ‘Jesus therefore said’ – no doubt to His disciples, though in the hearing of all – ‘yet a little while am I with you, then I go away to Him that sent Me. Ye shall seek Me, and not find Me; and where I am, thither Ye cannot come.’ Mournful words, these, which were only too soon to become true. But those who heard them naturally failed to comprehend their meaning. Was He about to leave Palestine, and go to the Diaspora of the Greeks, among the dispersed who lived in heathen lands, to teach the Greeks? Or what could be His meaning? But we, who hear it across these centuries, feel as if their question, like the suggestion of the High-Priest at a later period, nay, like so many suggestions of men, had been, all unconsciously, prophetic of the future.

(Joh 7:37-8:11)

It was ‘the last, the great day of the Feast,’ and Jesus was once more in the Temple. We can scarcely doubt that it was the concluding day of the Feast, and not, as most modern writers suppose, its Octave, which, in Rabbinic language, was regarded as ‘a festival by itself.’  But such solemn interest attaches to the Feast, and this occurrence on its last day, that we must try to realise the scene. We have here the only Old Testament type yet unfulfilled; the only Jewish festival which has no counterpart in the cycle of the Christian year, just because it points forward to that great, yet unfulfilled hope of the Church: the ingathering of Earth’s nations to the Christ. The celebration of the Feast corresponded to its great meaning. Not only did all the priestly families minister during that week, but it has been calculated that not fewer than 446 Priests, with, of course, a corresponding number of Levites, were required for its sacrificial worship. In general, the services were the same every day, except that the number of bullocks offered decreased daily from thirteen on the first, to seven on the seventh day. Only during the first two, and on the last festive day (as also on the Octave of the Feast), was strict Sabbatic rest enjoined. On the intervening half-holidays (ḥol hamoed), although no new labour was to be undertaken, unless in the public service, the ordinary and necessary avocations of the home and of life were carried on, and especially all done that was required for the festive season. But ‘the last, the Great Day of the Feast,’ was marked by special observances.

Let us suppose ourselves in the number of worshippers, who on the last, the Great Day of the Feast,’ are leaving their ‘booths’ at daybreak to take part in the service. The pilgrims are all in festive array. In his right hand each carries what is called the lulaḇ, which, although properly meaning ‘a branch,’ or ‘palm-branch,’ consisted of a myrtle and willow-branch tied together with a palm-branch between them. This was supposed to be in fulfilment of the command, Lev_23:40. ‘The fruit (A.V. ‘boughs’) of the goodly trees,’ mentioned in the same verse of Scripture, was supposed to be the Eṯrog, the so-called Paradise-apple (according to Ber. R. 15, the fruit of the forbidden tree), a species of citron. This Eṯrog each worshipper carries in his left hand. It is scarcely necessary to add that this interpretation of Lev_23:40 was given by the Rabbis; perhaps more interesting to know, that this was one of the points in controversy between the Pharisees and Sadducees.

Thus armed with lulaḇ in their right, and Eṯrog̱ in their left hands, the festive multitude would divide into three bands. Some would remain in the Temple to attend the preparation of the Morning Sacrifice. Another band would go in procession ‘below Jerusalem’ to a place called Moza, the ‘Kolonia’ of the Jerusalem Talmud, which some have sought to identify with the Emmaus of the Resurrection-Evening. At Moza they cut down willow-branches, with which, amidst the blasts of the Priests’ trumpets, they adorned the altar, forming a leafy canopy about it. Yet a third company were taking part in a still more interesting service. To the sound of music a procession started from the Temple. It followed a Priest who bore a golden pitcher, capable of holding three log. Onwards it passed, probably, through Ophel, which recent investigations have shown to have been covered with buildings to the very verge of Siloam, down the edge of the Tyropoeon Valley, where it merges into that of the Kedron. To this day terraces mark where the gardens, watered by the living spring, extended from the King’s Gardens by the spring Rogel down to the entrance into the Tyropoeon. Here was the so-called ‘Fountain-Gate,’ and still within the City-wall ‘the Pool of Siloam,’ the overflow of which fed a lower pool. As already stated it was at the merging of the Tyropoeon into the Kedron Valley, in the south-eastern angle of Jerusalem. The Pool of Siloam was fed by the living spring farther up in the narrowest part of the Kedron Valley, which presently bears the name of ‘the Virgin’s Fountain,’ but represents the ancient En-Rogel and Gihon. Indeed, the very canal which led from the one to the other, with the inscription of the workmen upon it, has lately been excavated. Though chiefly of historical interest, a sentence may be added. The Pool of Siloam is the same as ‘the King’s Pool’ of Neh_2:14. It was made by King Hezekiah, in order both to divert from a besieging army the spring of Gihon, which could not be brought within the City-wall, and yet to bring its waters within the City.  This explains the origin of the name siloam, ‘sent’ – a conduit – or ‘Siloah,’ as Josephus calls it. Lastly, we remember that it was down in the valley at Gihon (or En-Rogel), that Solomon was proclaimed, while the opposite faction held revel, and would have made Adonijah king, on the cliff zoheleṯ (the modern Zahweileh) right over against it, not a hundred yards distant, where they must, of course, have distinctly heard the sound of the trumpets and the shouts of the people as Solomon was proclaimed king.

But to return. When the Temple-procession had reached the Pool of Siloam, the Priest filled his golden pitcher from its waters. Then they went back to the Temple, so timing it, that they should arrive just as they were laying the pieces of the sacrifice on the great Altar of Burnt-offering, towards the close of the ordinary Morning Sacrifice service. A threefold blast of the Priests’ trumpets welcomed the arrival of the Priest, as he entered through the ‘Water-gate,’ which obtained its name from this ceremony, and passed straight into the Court of the Priests. Here he was joined by another Priest, who carried the wine for the drink-offering. The two Priests ascended ‘the rise’ of the altar, and turned to the left. There were two silver funnels here, with narrow openings, leading down to the base of the altar. Into that at the east, which was somewhat wider, the vine was poured, and, at the same time, the water into the western and narrower opening, the people shouting to the Priest to raise his hand, so as to make sure that he poured the water into the funnel. For, although it was held, that the water-pouring was an ordinance instituted by Moses, ‘a Halakhah of Moses from Sinai,’ this was another of the points disputed by the Sadducees. And, indeed, to give practical effect to their views, the High-Priest Alexander Jannaeus had on one occasion poured the water on the ground, when he was nearly murdered, and in the riot, that ensued, six thousand persons were killed in the Temple.

Immediately after ‘the pouring of water, the great ‘halel,’ consisting of Psa_113:1-9 to Ps 118 (inclusive), was chanted antiphonally, or rather, with responses, to the accompaniment of the flute. As the Levites intoned the first line of each Psalm, the people repeated it; while to each of the other lines they responded by halelu yah (‘Praise ye the Lord’). But in Ps 118 the people not only repeated the first line, ‘O give thanks to the Lord,’ but also these, ‘O then, work now salvation Jehovah,’ ‘O Lord, send now prosperity;’ and again, at the close of the Psalm, ‘O give thanks to the Lord.’ As they repeated these lines, they shook towards the altar the lulaḇ which they held in their hands – as if with this token of the past to express the reality and cause of their praise, and to remind God of His promises. It is this moment which should be chiefly kept in view.

The festive morning-service was followed by the offering of the special sacrifices for the day, with their drink-offerings, and by the Ps for the day, which, on the last, the Great Day of the Feast,’ was Psa_82:5.  The Ps was, of course, chanted, as always, to instrumental accompaniment, and at the end of each of its three sections the Priests blew a threefold blast, while the people bowed down in worship. In further symbolism of this Feast, as pointing to the ingathering of the heathen nations, the public services closed with a procession round the Altar by the Priests, who chanted ‘O then, work now salvation, Jehovah! O Jehovah, send now prosperity.’ But on ‘the last, the Great Day of the Feast,’ this procession of Priests made the circuit of the altar, not only once, but seven times, as if they were again compassing, but now with prayer, the Gentile Jericho which barred their possession of the promised land. Hence the seventh or last day of the Feast was also called that of ‘the Great Hosannah.’ As the people left the Temple, they saluted the altar with words of thanks, and on the last day of the Feast they shook off the leaves on the willow-branches round the altar, and beat their palm-branches to pieces. On the same afternoon the ‘booths’ were dismantled, and the Feast ended.

We can have little difficulty in determining at what part of the services of ‘the last, the Great Day of the Feast,’ Jesus stood and cried, ‘If any one thirst, let Him come unto Me and drink!’ It must have been with special reference to the ceremony of the outpouring of the water, which, as we have seen, was considered the central part of the service. Moreover, all would understand that His words must refer to the Holy Spirit, since the rite was universally regarded as symbolical of His outpouring. The forthpouring of the water was immediately followed by the chanting of the halel. But after that there must have been a short pause to prepare for the festive sacrifices (the musap̱). It was then, immediately after the symbolic rite of water-pouring, immediately after the people had responded by repeating those lines from Ps 118 – given thanks, and prayed that Jehovah would send salvation and prosperity, and had shaken their lulaḇ towards the altar, thus praising ‘with heart, and mouth, and hands,’ and then silence had fallen upon them – that there rose, so loud as to be heard throughout the Temple, the Voice of Jesus. He interrupted not the services, for they had for the moment ceased: He interpreted, and He fulfilled them.

Whether we realise it in connection with the deeply-stirring rites just concluded, and the song of praise that had scarcely died out of the air; or think of it as a vast step in advance in the history of Christ’s Manifestation, the scene is equally wondrous. But yesterday they had been divided about Him, and the authorities had given directions to take Him; to-day He is not only in the Temple, but, at the close of the most solemn rites of the Feast, asserting, within the hearing of all, His claim to be regarded as the fulfilment of all, and the true Messiah! And yet there is neither harshness of command nor violence of threat in His proclamation. It is the King, meek, gentle, and loving; the Messiah, Who will not break the bruised reed, Who will not lift up His Voice in tone of anger, but speak in accents of loving, condescending compassion, Who now bids, whosoever thirsteth, come unto Him and drink. And so the words have to all time remained the call of Christ to all that thirst, whence- or what- soever their need and longing of soul may be. But, as we listen to these words as originally spoken, we feel how they mark that Christ’s hour was indeed coming: the preparation past; the manifestation in the present, unmistakable, urgent, and loving; and the final conflict at hand.

Of those who had heard Him, none but must have understood that, if the invitation were indeed real, and Christ the fulfilment of all, then the promise also had its deepest meaning, that he who believed on Him would not only receive the promised fulness of the Spirit, but give it forth to the fertilising of the barren waste around. It was, truly, the fulfilment of the Scripture-promise, not of one but of all: that in Messianic times the naḇi, ‘prophet,’ literally the weller forth, viz., of the Divine, should not be one or another select individual, but that He would pour out on all His handmaidens and servants of His Holy Spirit, and thus the moral wilderness of this world be changed into a fruitful garden. Indeed, this is expressly stated in the Targum which thus paraphrases Isa_44:3 : ‘Behold, as the waters are poured on arid ground and spread over the dry soil, so will I give the Spirit of My Holiness on thy sons, and My blessing on thy children’s children.’ What was new to them was, that all this was treasured up in the Christ, that out of His fulness men might receive, and grace for grace. And yet even this was not quite new. For, was it not the fulfilment of that old prophetic cry: ‘The Spirit of the Lord Jehovah is upon Me: therefore has He Messiahed (anointed) Me to preach good tidings unto the poor?’ So then, it was nothing new, only the happy fulfilment of the old, when He thus ‘spake of the Holy Spirit, which they who believed on Him should receive,’ not then, but upon His Messianic exaltation.

And so we scarcely wonder that many, on hearing Him, said, though not with that heart-conviction which would have led to self-surrender, that He was the Prophet promised of old, even the Christ, while others, by their side, regarding Him as a Galilean, the Son of Joseph, raised the ignorant objection that He could not be the Messiah, since the latter must be of the seed of David and come from Bethlehem. Nay, such was the anger of some against what they regarded a dangerous seducer of the poor people, that they would fain have laid violent hands on Him. But amidst all this, the strongest testimony to His Person and Mission remains to be told. It came, as so often, from a quarter whence it could least have been expected. Those Temple-officers, whom the authorities had commissioned to watch an opportunity for seizing Jesus, came back without having done their behest, and that, when, manifestly, the scene in the Temple might have offered the desired ground for His imprisonment. To the question of the Pharisees, they could only give this reply, which has ever since remained unquestionable fact of history, admitted alike by friend and foe: ‘Never man so spake as this man.’ For, as all spiritual longing and all upward tending, not only of men but even of systems, consciously or unconsciously tends towards Christ, so can we measure and judge all systems by this, which no sober student of history will gainsay, that no man or system ever so spake.

It was not this which the Pharisees now gainsaid, but rather the obvious, and, we may add, logical, inference from it. The scene which followed is so thoroughly Jewish, that it alone would suffice to prove the Jewish, and hence Johannine, authorship of the Fourth Gospel. The harsh sneer: ‘Are ye also led astray?’ is succeeded by pointing to the authority of the learned and great, who with one accord were rejecting Jesus. ‘But this people’ – the country-people (Am haarez), the ignorant, unlettered rabble – ‘are cursed.’ Sufficient has been shown in previous parts of this book to explain alike the Pharisaic claim of authority and their almost unutterable contempt of the unlettered. So far did the latter go, that it would refuse, not only all family connection and friendly intercourse, but even the bread of charity, to the unlettered; nay, that, in theory at least, it would have regarded their murder as no sin, and even cut them off from the hope of the Resurrection.  But is it not true, that, even in our days, this double sneer, rather than argument, of the Pharisees is the main reason of the disbelief of so many: Which of the learned believe on Him? but the ignorant multitude are led by superstition to ruin. There was one standing among the Temple-authorities, whom an uneasy conscience would not allow to remain quite silent. It was the Sanhedrist Nicodemus, still a night-disciple, even in brightest noon-tide. He could not hold his peace, and yet he dared not speak for Christ. So he made compromise of both by taking the part of, and speaking as, a righteous, rigid Sanhedrist. ‘Does our Law judge (pronounce sentence upon) a man, except it first hear from himself and know what he doeth?’ From the Rabbinic point of view, no sounder judicial saying could have been uttered. Yet such commonplaces impose not on any one, nor even serve any good purpose. It helped not the cause of Jesus, and it disguised not the advocacy of Nicodemus. We know what was thought of Galilee in the Rabbinic world. ‘Art thou also of Galilee? Search and see, for out of Galilee ariseth no prophet.’

And so ended this incident, which, to all concerned, might have been so fruitful of good. Once more Nicodemus was left alone, as every one who has dared and yet not dared for Christ is after all such bootless compromises; alone – with sore heart, stricken conscience, and a great longing.

(Joh 8:12-59)

The startling teaching on ‘the last, the Great Day of the Feast’ was not the only one delivered at that season. The impression left on the mind is, that after silencing, as they thought, Nicodemus, the leaders of the Pharisees had dispersed. The addresses of Jesus which followed must, therefore, have been delivered, either later on that day, or, what on every account seems more likely, chiefly, or all, on the next day, which was the Octave of the Feast, when the Temple would be once more thronged by worshippers.

On this occasion we find Christ, first in ‘The Treasury,’ and then in some unnamed part of the sacred building, in all probability one of the ‘Porches.’ Greater freedom could be here enjoyed, since these ‘Porches,’ which enclosed the Court of the Gentiles, did not form part of the Sanctuary in the stricter sense. Discussions might take place, in which not, as in ‘the Treasury,’ only ‘the Pharisees,’, but the people generally, might propound questions, answer, or assent. Again, as regards the requirements of the present narrative, since the Porches opened upon the Court, the Jews might there pick up stones to cast at Him (which would have been impossible in any part of the Sanctuary itself), while lastly, Jesus might easily pass out of the Temple in the crowd that moved through the Porches to the outer gates.

But the narrative first transports us into ‘the Treasury,’ where ‘the Pharisees’ – or leaders – would alone venture to speak. It ought to be specially marked, that if they laid not hands on Jesus when He dared to teach in this sacred locality, and that such unwelcome doctrine, His immunity must be ascribed to the higher appointment of God: ‘because His hour had not yet come.’ An archaeological question may here be raised as to the exact localisation of ‘the Treasury,’ whether it was the colonnade around ‘the Court of the Women,’ in which the receptacles for charitable contributions-the so-called shop̱aroṯ, or ‘trumpets’ – were placed, or one of the two ‘chambers’ in which, respectively, secret gifts and votive offerings were deposited.  The former seems the most likely. In any case, it would be within ‘the Court of the Women, the common meeting place of the worshippers, and, as we may say, the most generally attended part of the Sanctuary. Here, in the hearing of the leaders of the people, took place the first Dialogue between Christ and the Pharisees.

It opened with what probably was an allusion alike to one of the great ceremonies of the Feast of Tabernacles, to its symbolic meaning, and to an express Messianic expectation of the Rabbis. As the Mishnah states: On the first, or, as the Talmud would have it, on every night  of the festive week, ‘the Court of the Women’ was brilliantly illuminated, and the night spent in the demonstrations already described. This was called ‘the joy of the feast.’ This ‘festive joy,’ of which the origin is obscure, was no doubt connected with the hope of earth’s great harvest-joy in the conversion of the heathen world, and so pointed to ‘the days of the Messiah.’ In connection with this we mark, that the term ‘light’ was specially applied to the Messiah. In a very interesting passage of the Midrash we are told, that, while commonly windows were made wide within and narrow without, it was the opposite in the Temple of Solomon, because the light issuing from the Sanctuary was to lighten that which was without. This reminds us of the language of devout old Simeon in regard to the Messiah, as ‘a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of His people Israel.’ The Midrash further explains, that, if the light in the Sanctuary was to be always burning before Jehovah, the reason was, not that He needed such light, but that He honoured Israel with this as a symbolic command. In Messianic times God would, in fulfilment of the prophetic meaning of this rite, ‘kindle for them the Great Light,’ and the nations of the world would point to them, who had lit the light for Him Who lightened the whole world. But even this is not all. The Rabbis speak of the original light in which God had wrapped Himself as in a garment, and which could not shine by day, because it would have dimmed the light of the sun. From this light that of the sun, moon, and stars had been kindled. It was now reserved under the throne of God for the Messiah, in Whose days it would shine forth once more. Lastly, we ought to refer to a passage in another Midrash, where, after a remarkable discussion on such names of the Messiah as ‘the Lord our Righteousness,’ ‘the Branch,’ ‘the Comforter,’ ‘Shiloh,’ ‘Compassion,’ His Birth is connected with the destruction, and His return with the restoration of the Temple. But in that very passage the Messiah is also specially designated as the ‘Enlightener,’ the words: ‘the light dwelleth with Him,’ being applied to Him.

What has just been stated shows, that the Messianic hope of the aged Simeon most truly expressed the Messianic thoughts of the time. It also proves, that the Pharisees could not have mistaken the Messianic meaning in the words of Jesus, in their reference to the past festivity: ‘I am the Light of the world.’ This circumstance is itself evidential as regards this Discourse of Christ, the truth of this narrative, and even the Jewish authorship of the Fourth Gospel. But, indeed, the whole Address, the argumentation with the Pharisees which follows, as well as the subsequent Discourse to, and argumentation with, the Jews, are peculiarly Jewish in their form of reasoning. Substantially, these Discourses are a continuation of those previously delivered at this Feast. But they carry the argument one important step both backwards and forwards. The situation had now become quite clear, and neither party cared to conceal it. What Jesus had gradually communicated to the disciples, who were so unwilling to receive it, had now become an acknowledged fact. It was no longer a secret that the leaders of Israel and Jerusalem were compassing the Death of Jesus. This underlies all His Words. And He sought to turn them from their purpose, not by appealing to their pity nor to any lower motive, but by claiming as His right that, for which they would condemn Him. He was the Sent of God, the Messiah; although, to know Him and His Mission, it needed moral kinship with Him that had sent Him. But this led to the very root of the matter. It needed moral kinship with God: did Israel, as such, possess it? They did not; nay, no man possessed it, till given him of God. This was not exactly new in these Discourses of Christ, but it was now far more clearly stated and developed, and in that sense new.

We also are too apt to overlook this teaching of Christ – perhaps have overlooked it. It is concerning the corruption of our whole nature by sin, and hence the need of God-teaching, if we are to receive the Christ, or understand His doctrine. That which is born of the flesh is flesh; that which is born of the Spirit is Spirit; wherefore, ‘marvel not that I said, Ye must be born again.’ That had been Christ’s initial teaching to Nicodemus, and it became, with growing emphasis, His final teaching to the teachers of Israel. It is not Paul who first sets forth the doctrine of our entire moral ruin: he had learned it from the Christ. It forms the very basis of Christianity; it is the ultimate reason of the need of a Redeemer, and the rationale of the work which Christ came to do. The Priesthood and the Sacrificial Work of Christ, as well as the higher aspect of His Prophetic Office, and the true meaning of His Kingship, as not of this world, are based upon it. Very markedly, it constitutes the starting-point in the fundamental divergence between the leaders of the Synagogue and Christ – we might say, to all time between Christians and non-Christians. The teachers of Israel knew not, nor believed in the total corruption of man – Jew as well as Gentile – and, therefore, felt not the need of a Saviour. They could not understand it, how ‘Except a man’ – at least a Jew – were ‘born again,’ and, ‘from above,’ he could not enter, nor even see, the Kingdom of God. They understood not their own Bible: the story of the Fall – not Moses and the Prophets; and how could they understand Christ? they believed not them, and how could they believe Him? And yet, from this point of view, but only from this, does all seem clear: the Incarnation, the History of the Temptation and Victory in the Wilderness, an even the Cross. Only he who has, in some measure, himself felt the agony of the first garden, can understand that of the second garden. Had they understood, by that personal experience which we must all have of it, the Proto-Evangel of the great contest, and of the great conquest by suffering, they would have followed its lines to their final goal in the Christ as the fulfilment of all. And so, here also, were the words of Christ true, that it needed heavenly teaching, and kinship to the Divine, to understand His doctrine.

This underlies, and is the main object of these Discourses of Christ. As a corollary He would teach, that Satan was not a merely malicious, impish being, working outward destruction, but that there was a moral power of evil which held us all – not the Gentile world only, but even the most favoured, learned, and exalted among the Jews. Of this power Satan was the concentration and impersonation; the prince of the power of ‘darkness.’ This opens up the reasoning of Christ, alike as expressed and implied. He presented Himself to them as the Messiah, and hence as the Light of the World. It resulted, that only in following Him would a man ‘not walk in the darkness,’ but have the light – and that, be it marked, not the light of knowledge, but of life. On the other hand, it also followed, that all, who were not within this light, were in darkness and in death.

It was an appeal to the moral in His hearers. The Pharisees sought to turn it aside by an appeal to the external and visible. They asked for some witness, or palpable evidence, of what they called His testimony about Himself, well knowing that such could only be through some external, visible, miraculous manifestation, just as they had formerly asked for a sign from heaven. The Bible, and especially the Evangelic history, is full of what men ordinarily, and often thoughtlessly, call the miraculous. But, in this case, the miraculous would have become the magical, which it never is. If Christ had yielded to their appeal, and transferred the question from the moral to the coarsely external sphere, He would have ceased to be the Messiah of the Incarnation, Temptation, and Cross, the Messiah-Saviour. It would have been to un-Messiah the Messiah of the Gospel, for it was only, in another form, a repetition of the Temptation. A miracle or sign would at that moment have been a moral anachronism – as much as any miracle would be in our days, when the Christ makes His appeal to the moral, and is met by a demand for the external and material evidence of His Witness.

The interruption of the Pharisees was thoroughly Jewish, and so was their objection. It had to be met, and that in the Jewish form in which it had been raised, while the Christ must at the same time continue His former teaching to them concerning God and their own distance from Him. Their objection had proceeded on this fundamental judicial principle – ‘A person is not accredited about himself.’ Harsh and unjust as this principle sometimes was, it evidently applied only in judicial cases, and hence implied that these Pharisees sat in judgment on Him as one suspected, and charged with guilt. The reply of Jesus was plain. Even if His testimony about Himself were unsupported, it would still be true, and He was competent to bear it, for He knew, as a matter of fact, whence He came and whither He went – His own part in this Mission, and its goal, as well as God’s – whereas they knew not either. But, more than this: their demand for a witness had proceeded on the assumption of their being the judges, and He the panel – a relation which only arose from their judging after the flesh. Spiritual judgment upon that which was within belonged only to Him, that searcheth all secrets. Christ, while on earth, judged no man; and, even if He did so, it must be remembered that He did it not alone, but with, and as the Representative of, the Father. Hence, such judgment would be true. But, as for their main charge, was it either true, or good in law? In accordance with the Law of God, there were two witnesses to the fact of His Mission: His own, and the frequently-shown attestation of His Father. And, if it were objected that a man could not bear witness in his own cause, the same Rabbinic canon laid it down, that this only applied if his testimony stood alone. But if it were corroborated (even in a matter of greatest delicacy), although by only one male or female slave – who ordinarily were unfit for testimony – it would be credited.

The reasoning of Christ, without for a moment quitting the higher ground of His teaching, was quite unanswerable from the Jewish standpoint. The Pharisees felt it, and, though well knowing to Whom He referred, tried to evade it by the sneer – where (not Who) His Father was? This gave occasion for Christ to return to the main subject of His Address, that the reason of their ignorance of Him was, that they knew not the Father, and, in turn, that only acknowledgment of Him would bring true knowledge of the Father.

Such words would only ripen in the hearts of such men the murderous resolve against Jesus. Yet, not till His, not their, hour had come! Presently, we find Him again, now in one of the Porches – probably that of Solomon – teaching, this time, ‘the Jews.’ We imagine they were chiefly, if not all, Judaeans – perhaps Jerusalemites, aware of the murderous intent of their leaders – not His own Galileans, whom He addressed. It was in continuation of what had gone before – alike of what He had said to them and of what they felt towards Him. The words are intensely sad – Christ’s farewell to His rebellious people, His tear-words over lost Israel; abrupt also, as if they were torn sentences, or, else, headings for special discourses: ‘I go My way’ – ‘Ye shall seek Me, and in your sin shall ye die’ – ‘Whither I go, ye cannot come!’ And is it not all most true? These many centuries has Israel sought its Christ, and perished in its great sin of rejecting Him; and whither Christ and His kingdom tended, the Synagogue and Judaism never came. They thought that He spoke of His dying, and not, as He did, of that which came after it. But, how could His dying establish such separation between them? This was the next question which rose in their minds. Would there be anything so peculiar about His dying, or, did His expression about going indicate a purpose of taking away His Own life?

It was this misunderstanding which Jesus briefly but emphatically corrected by telling them, that the ground of their separation was the difference of their nature: they were from beneath, He from above; they of this world, He not of this world. Hence they could not come where He would be, since they must die in their sin, as He had told them – ‘if ye believe not that I am.’

The words were intentionally mysteriously spoken, as to a Jewish audience. Believe not that Thou art! But ‘Who art Thou?’ Whether or not the words were spoken in scorn, their question condemned themselves. In His broken sentence, Jesus had tried them – to see how they would complete it. Then it was so! All this time they had not yet learned Who He was; had not even a conviction on that point, either for or against Him, but were ready to be swayed by their leaders ‘Who I am?’ – am I not telling you it even from the beginning; has My testimony by word or deed ever swerved on this point? I am what all along, from the beginning, I tell you. Then, putting aside this interruption, He resumed His argument. Many other things had He to say and to judge concerning them, besides the bitter truth of their perishing if they believed not that it was He – but He that had sent Him was true, and He must ever speak into the world the message which He had received. When Christ referred to it as that which ‘He heard from Him,’ He evidently wished thereby to emphasise the fact of His Mission from God, as constituting His claim on their obedience of faith. But it was this very point which, even at that moment, they were not understanding. And they would only learn it, not by His Words, but by the event, when they had ‘lifted Him up,’ as they thought, to the Cross, but really on the way to His Glory.  Then would they perceive the meaning of the designation He had given of Himself, and the claim founded on it: ‘Then shall ye perceive that I am.’ Meantime: ‘And of Myself do I nothing, but as the Father taught Me, these things do I speak. And He that sent Me is with Me. He hath not left Me alone, because what pleases Him I do always.’

If the Jews failed to understand the expression ‘lifting up,’ which might mean His Exaltation, though it did mean, in the first place, His Cross, there was that in His Appeal to His Words and Deeds as bearing witness to His Mission and to the Divine Help and Presence in it, which by its sincerity, earnestness, and reality, found its way to the hearts of many. Instinctively they felt and believed that His Mission must be Divine. Whether or not this found articulate expression, Jesus now addressed Himself to those who thus far – at least for the moment – believed on Him. They were at the crisis of their spiritual history, and He must press home on them what He had sought to teach at the first. By nature far from Him, they were bondsmen. Only if they abode in His Word would they know the truth, and the truth would make them free. The result of this knowledge would be moral, and hence that knowledge consisted not in merely believing on Him, but in making His Word and teaching their dwelling – abiding in it. But it was this very moral application which they resisted. In this also Jesus had used their own forms of thinking and teaching, only in a much higher sense. For their own tradition had it, that he, only was free who laboured in the study of the Law. Yet the liberty of which He spoke came not through study of the Law, but from abiding in the Word of Jesus. But it was this very thing which they resisted. And so they ignored the spiritual, and fell back upon the national, application of the words of Christ. As this is once more evidential of the Jewish authorship of this Gospel, so also the characteristically Jewish boast, that as the children of Abraham they had never been, and never could be, in real servitude. It would take too long to enumerate all the benefits supposed to be derived from descent from Abraham. Suffice here the almost fundamental principle: ‘All Israel are the children of Kings,’ and its application even to common life, that as ‘the children of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, not even Solomon’s feast could be too good for them.’

Not so, however, would the Lord allow them to pass it by. He pointed them to another servitude which they knew not, that of sin, and, entering at the same time also on their own ideas, He told them that continuance in this servitude would also lead to national bondage and rejection: ‘For the servant abideth not in the house for ever.’ On the other hand, the Son abode there for ever; whom He made free by adoption into His family, they would be free in reality and essentially.  Then for their very dulness, He would turn to their favourite conceit of being Abraham’s seed. There was, indeed, an obvious sense in which, by their natural descent, they were such. But there was a moral descent – and that alone was of real value. Another, and to them wholly new, and heavenly teaching this, which our Lord presently applied in a manner they could neither misunderstand nor gainsay, while He at the same time connected it with the general drift of His teaching. Abraham’s seed? But they entertained purposes of murder, and that, because the Word of Christ had not free course, made not way in them. His Word was what He had seen with (before) the Father, ‘not heard – for His presence was there Eternal. Their deeds were what they had heard from their father – the word ‘seen’ in our common text depending on a wrong reading. And thus He showed them – in answer to their interpellation – that their father could not have been Abraham, so far as spiritual descent was concerned. They had now a glimpse of His meaning, but only to misapply it, according to their Jewish prejudice. Their spiritual descent, they urged, must be of God, since their descent from Abraham was legitimate. But the Lord dispelled even this conceit by showing, that if theirs were spiritual descent from God, then would they not reject His Message, nor seek to kill Him, but recognise and love him.

But whence this misunderstanding of His speech?  Because they are morally incapable of hearing it – and this because of the sinfulness of their nature: an element which Judaism had never taken into account. And so, with infinite Wisdom, Christ once more brought back His Discourse to what He would teach them concerning man’s need, whether he be Jew or Gentile, of a Saviour and of renewing by the Holy Ghost. If the Jews were morally unable to hear His Word and cherished murderous designs, it was because, morally speaking, their descent was of the Devil. Very differently from Jewish ideas did He speak concerning the moral evil of Satan, as both a murderer and a liar – a murderer from the beginning of the history of our race, and one who ‘stood not in the truth, because truth is not in him.’ Hence ‘whenever he speaketh a lie’ – whether to our first parents, or now concerning the Christ – ‘he speaketh from out his own (things), for he (Satan) is a liar, and the father of such an one (who telleth or believeth lies).’ Which of them could convict Him of sin? If therefore He spake truth, and they believed Him not, it was because they were not of God, but, as He had shown them, of their father, the Devil.

The argument was unanswerable, and there seemed only one way to turn it aside – a Jewish Tu quoque, an adaptation of the ‘Physician, heal thyself:’ ‘Do we not say rightly, that Thou art a Samaritan, and hast a demon?’ It is strange that the first clause of this reproach should have been so misunderstood and yet its direct explanation lies on the surface. We have only to translate it into the language which the Jews had used. By no strain of ingenuity is it possible to account for the designation ‘Samaritan,’ as given by the Jews to Jesus, if it is regarded as referring to nationality. Even at the very Feast they had made it an objection to His Messianic claims, that He was (as they supposed) a Galilean. Nor had He come to Jerusalem from Samaria; nor could He be so called (as Commentators suggest) because He was ‘a foe’ to Israel, or a ‘breaker of the Law,’ or ‘unfit to bear witness’ -for neither of these circumstances would have led the Jews to designate Him by the term ‘Samaritan.’ ‘But, in the language which they spoke, what is rendered into Greek by ‘Samaritan,’ would have been either kuṯi (כותי), which, while literally meaning a Samaritan, is almost as often used in the sense of ‘heretic,’ or else shomroni (שמרוני). The latter word deserves special attention. Literally, it also means, ‘Samaritan;’ but, the name shomron (perhaps from its connection with Samaria), is also sometimes used as the equivalent of Ashmedai, the Prince of the demons.  According to the Kabbalists, shomron was the father of Ashmedai, and hence the same as Sammael, or Satan. That this was a wide-spread Jewish belief, appears from the circumstance that in the Koran (which, in such matters, would reproduce popular Jewish tradition), Israel is said to have been seduced into idolatry by shomron, while, in Jewish tradition, this is attributed to Sammuel. If, therefore, the term applied by the Jews to Jesus was shomroni – and not kuṯi, ‘heretic’ – it would literally mean, ‘Child of the Devil.’

This would also explain why Christ only replied to the charge having a demon, since the two charges meant substantially the same: ‘Thou art a child of the devil and hast a demon.’ In wondrous patience and mercy He almost passed it by, dwelling rather, for their teaching, on the fact that, while they dishonoured Him, He honoured His Father. He heeded not their charges. His concern was the glory of His Father; the vindication of His own Honour would be brought about by the Father – though, alas! in judgment on those who were casting such dishonour on the Sent of God. Then, as if lingering in deep compassion on the terrible issue, He once more pressed home the great subject of His Discourse, that only ‘if a man keep’ – both have regard to, and observe – His ‘Word,’ ‘he shall not gaze at death [intently behold it] unto eternity’ – for ever shall he not come within close and terrible gaze of what is really death, of what became such to Adam in the hour of his Fall.

It was, as repeatedly observed, this death as the consequence of the Fall, of which the Jews knew nothing. And so they once more misunderstood it as of physical death, and, since Abraham and the prophets had died, regarded Christ as setting up a claim higher than theirs. The Discourse had contained all that He had wished to bring before them, and their objections were degenerating into wrangling. It was time to break it off by a general application. The question, He added, was not of what He said, but of what God said of Him – that God, Whom they claimed as theirs, and yet knew not, but Whom He knew, and Whose Word He ‘kept.’ But, as for Abraham – he had ‘exulted’ in the thought of the coming day of the Christ, and, seeing its glory, he was glad. Even Jewish tradition could scarcely gainsay this, since there were two parties in the Synagogue, of which one believed that, when that horror of great darkness fell on him, Abraham had, in vision, been shown not only this, but the coming world – and not only all events in the present ‘age,’ but also those in Messianic times.  And now, theirs was not misunderstanding, but wilful misinterpretation. He had spoken of Abraham seeing His day; they took it of His seeing Abraham’s day, and challenged its possibility. Whether or not they intended thus to elicit an avowal of His claim to eternal duration, and hence to Divinity, it was not time any longer to forbear the full statement, and, with Divine emphasis, He spake the words which could not be mistaken: ‘Verily, verily, I say unto you, before Abraham was, I AM.’

It was as if they had only waited for this. Furiously they rushed from the Porch into the Court of the Gentiles – with symbolic significance, even in this – to pick up stones, and to cast them at Him. But, once more, His hour had not yet come, and their fury proved impotent. Hiding Himself for the moment, as might so easily be done, in one of the many chambers, passages, or gateways of the Temple, He presently passed out.

It had been the first plain disclosure and avowal of His Divinity, and it was ‘in the midst of His enemies,’ and when most contempt was cast upon Him. Presently would that avowal be renewed both in Word and by Deed; for ‘the end’ of mercy and judgment had not yet come, but was drawing terribly nigh.

(John 9)

After the scene in the Temple described in the last chapter, and Christ’s consequent withdrawal from His enemies, we can scarcely suppose any other great event to have taken place on that day within or near the precincts of the Sanctuary. And yet, from the close connection of the narratives, we are led to infer that no long interval of time can have elapsed before the healing of the man born blind. Probably it happened the day after the events just recorded. We know that it was a Sabbath, and this fresh mark of time, as well as the multiplicity of things done, and the whole style of the narrative, confirm our belief that it was not on the evening of the day when He had spoken to them first in ‘the Treasury,’ and then in the Porch.

On two other points there is strong presumption, though we cannot offer actual proof. Remembering, that the entrance to the Temple or its Courts was then – as that of churches is on the Continent – the chosen spot for those who, as objects of pity, solicited charity; remembering, also, how rapidly the healing of the blind man became known, and how soon both his parents and the healed man himself appeared before the Pharisees – presumably, in the Temple; lastly, how readily the Saviour knew where again to find him, – we can scarcely doubt that the miracle took place at the entering to the Temple, or on the Temple-Mount. Secondly, both the Work, and especially the Words of Christ, seem in such close connection with what had preceded, that we can scarcely be mistaken in regarding them as intended to form a continuation of it.

It is not difficult to realise the scene, nor to understand the remarks of all who had part in it. It was the Sabbath – the day after the Octave of the Feast, and Christ with His disciples was passing – presumably when going into the Temple, where this blind beggar was wont to sit, probably soliciting alms, perhaps in some such terms as these, which were common at the time: ‘Gain merit by me;’ or, ‘O tenderhearted, by me gain merit, to thine own benefit.’ But on the Sabbath he would, of course, neither ask nor receive alms, though his presence in the wonted place would secure wider notice and perhaps lead to many private gifts. Indeed, the blind were regarded as specially entitled to charity; and the Jerusalem Talmud relates some touching instances of the delicacy displayed towards them. As the Master and His disciples passed the blind beggar, Jesus ‘saw’ him, with that look which they who followed Him knew to be full of meaning. Yet, so thoroughly Judaised were they by their late contact with the Pharisees, that no thought of possible mercy came to them, only a truly and characteristically Jewish question, addressed to Him expressly, and as ‘Rabbi:’ through whose guilt this blindness had befallen him – through his own, or that of his parents.

For, thoroughly Jewish the question was. Many instances could be adduced, in which one or another sin is said to have been punished by some immediate stroke, disease, or even by death; and we constantly find Rabbis, when meeting such unfortunate persons, asking them, how or by what sin this had come to them. But, as this man was ‘blind from his birth,’ the possibility of some actual sin before birth would suggest itself, at least as a speculative question, since the ‘evil impulse’ (Yetser haRa), might even then be called into activity. At the same time, both the Talmud and the later charge of the Pharisees, ‘In sins wast thou born altogether,’ imply that in such cases the alternative explanation would be considered, that the blindness might be caused by the sin of his parents. It was a common Jewish view, that the merits or demerits of the parents would appear in the children. In fact, up to thirteen years of age a child was considered, as it were, part of his father, and as suffering for his guilt. More than that, the thoughts of a mother might affect the moral state of her unborn offspring, and the terrible apostasy of one of the greatest Rabbis had, in popular belief, been caused by the sinful delight his mother had taken when passing through an idol-grove. Lastly, certain special sins in the parents would result in specific diseases in their offspring, and one is mentioned as causing blindness in the children. But the impression left on our minds is, that the disciples felt not sure as to either of these solutions of the difficulty. It seemed a mystery, inexplicable on the supposition of God’s infinite goodness, and to which they sought to apply the common Jewish solution. Many similar mysteries meet us in the administration of God’s Providence – questions, which seem unanswerable, but to which we try to give answers, perhaps, not much wiser than the explanations suggested by disciples.

But why seek to answer them at all, since we possess not all, perhaps very few of, the data requisite for it? There is one aspect, however, of adversity, and of a strange dispensation of evil, on which the light of Christ’s Words here shines with the brightness of a new morning. There is a physical, natural reason for them. God has not specially sent them, in the sense of His interference or primary causation, although He has sent them in the sense of His knowledge, will, and reign. They have come in the ordinary course of things, and are traceable to causes which, if we only knew them, would appear to us the sequence of the laws which God has imposed on His creation, and which are necessary for its orderly continuance. And, further, all such evil consequences, from the operation of God’s laws, are in the last instance to be traced back to the curse which sin has brought upon man and on earth. With these His Laws, and with their evil sequences to us through the curse of sin, God does not interfere in the ordinary course of His Providence; although he would be daring, who would negative the possibility of what may, seem, though it is not, interference, since the natural causes which lead to these evil consequences may so easily, naturally, and rationally be affected. But there is another and a higher aspect of it, since Christ has come, and is really the Healer of all disease and evil by being the Remover of its ultimate moral cause. This is indicated in His words, when, putting aside the clumsy alternative suggested by the disciples, He told them that it was so in order ‘that the works of God might be made manifest in him.’ They wanted to know the ‘why,’ He told them the ‘in order to,’ of the man’s calamity; they wished to understand its reason as regarded its origin, He told them its reasonableness in regard to the purpose which it, and all similar suffering, should serve, since Christ has come, the Healer of evil – because the Saviour from sin. Thus He transferred the question from intellectual ground to that of the moral purpose which suffering might serve. And this not in itself, nor by any destiny or appointment, but because the Coming and Work of the Christ has made it possible to us all. Sin and its sequences are still the same, for ‘the world is established that it cannot move.’ But over it all has risen the Sun of Righteousness with healing in His wings; and, if we but open ourselves to His influence, these evils may serve this purpose, and so have this for their reason, not as, regards their genesis, but their continuance, ‘that the works of God maybe made manifest.’

To make this the reality to us, was ‘the work of Him’ Who sent, and for which He sent, the Christ. And rapidly now must He work it, for perpetual example, during the few hours still left of His brief working-day. This figure was not unfamiliar to the Jews, though it may well be that, by thus emphasising the briefness of the time, He may also have anticipated any objection to His healing on the Sabbath. But it is of even more importance to notice, how the two leading thoughts of the previous day’s Discourse were now again taken up and set forth in the miracle that followed. These were, that He did the Work which God had sent Him to do, and that He was the Light of the world. As its Light He could not but shine so long as He was in it. And this He presently symbolised (and is not every miracle a symbol?) in the healing of the blind.

Once more we notice, how in His Deeds, as in His Words, the Lord adopted the forms known and used by His contemporaries, while He filled them with quite other substance. It has already been stated, that saliva was commonly regarded as a remedy for diseases of the eye, although, of course, not for the removal of blindness. With this He made clay, which He now used, adding to it the direction to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam, a term which literally meant ‘sent.’ A symbolism, this, of Him Who was the Sent of the Father. For, all is here symbolical: the cure and its means. If we ask ourselves why means were used in this instance, we can only suggest, that it was partly for the sake of him who was to be healed, partly for theirs who afterwards heard of it. For, the blind man seems to have been ignorant of the character of his Healer, and it needed the use of some means to make him, so to speak, receptive. On the other hand, not only the use of means, but their inadequacy to the object, must have impressed all. Symbolical, also, were these means, Sight was restored by clay, made out of the ground with the spittle of Him, Whose breath had at the first breathed life into clay; and this was then washed away in the Pool of Siloam, from whose waters had been drawn on the Feast of Tabernacles that which symbolised the forthpouring of the new life by the Spirit. Lastly, if it be asked why such miracle should have been wrought on one who had not previous faith, who does not even seem to have known about the Christ, we can only repeat, that the man himself was intended to be a symbol, ‘that the works of God should be made manifest in him.’

And so, what the Pharisees had sought in vain, was freely vouchsafed when there was need for it. With inimitable simplicity, itself evidence that no legend is told, the man’s obedience and healing are recorded. We judge, that his first impulse when healed must have been to seek for Jesus, naturally, where he had first met Him. On his way, probably past his own house to tell his parents, and again on the spot where he had so long sat begging, all who had known him must have noticed the great change that had passed over him. So marvellous, indeed, did it appear, that, while part of the crowd that gathered would, of course, acknowledge his identity, others would say: ‘No, but he is like him;’ in their suspiciousness looking for some imposture. For there can be little doubt, that on his way he must have learned more about Jesus than merely His Name, and in turn have communicated to his informants the story of his healing. Similarly the formal question now put to him by the Jews was as much, if not more, a preparatory inquisition than the outcome of a wish to learn the circumstances of his healing. And so we notice in his answer the cautious desire not to say anything that could incriminate his Benefactor. He tells the facts truthfully, plainly; he accentuates by what means he had ‘recovered,’ not received, sight; but otherwise gives no clue by which either to discover or to incriminate Jesus.

Presently they bring him to the Pharisees, not to take notice of his healing, but to found on it a charge against Christ. Such must have been their motive, since it was universally known that the leaders of the people had, of course informally, agreed to take the strictest measures, not only against the Christ, but against any one who professed to be His disciple. The ground on which the present charge against Jesus would rest was plain: the healing involved a manifold breach of the Sabbath-Law. The first of these was that He had made clay. Next, it would be a question whether any remedy might be applied on the holy day. Such could only be done in diseases of the internal organs (from the throat downwards), except when danger to life or the loss of an organ was involved. It was, indeed, declared lawful to apply, for example, wine to the outside of the eyelid, on the ground that this might be treated as washing; but it was sinful to apply it to the inside of the eye. And as regards saliva, its application to the eye is expressly forbidden, on the ground that it was evidently intended as a remedy.

There was, therefore, abundant legal ground for a criminal charge. And, although on the Sabbath the Sanhedrin would not hold any formal meeting, and, even had there been such, the testimony of one man would not have sufficed, yet ‘the Pharisees’ set the inquiry regularly on foot. First, as if not satisfied with the report of those who had brought the man, they made him repeat it. The simplicity of the man’s language left no room for evasion or subterfuge. Rabbinism was on its great trial. The wondrous fact could neither be denied nor explained, and the only ground for resisting the legitimate inference as to the character of Him Who had done it, was its inconsistence with their traditional law. The alternative was: whether their traditional law of Sabbath-observance, or else He Who had done such miracles, was Divine? Was Christ not of God, because He did not keep the Sabbath in their way? But, then; could an open transgressor of God’s Law do such miracles? In this dilemma they turned to the simple man before them. ‘Seeing that He opened’ his eyes, what did he say of Him? what was the impression left on his mind, who had the best opportunity for judging?

There is something very peculiar, and, in one sense, most instructive, as to the general opinion entertained even by the best-disposed, who had not yet been taught the higher truth, in his reply, so simple and solemn, so comprehensive in its sequences, and yet so utterly inadequate by itself: ‘He is a Prophet.’ One possibility still remained. After all, the man might not have been really blind; and they might, by cross-examining the parents, elicit that about his original condition which would explain the pretended cure. But on this most important point, the parents, with all their fear of the anger of the Pharisees, remained unshaken. He had been born blind; but as to the manner of his cure, they declined to offer any opinion. Thus, as so often, the machinations of the enemies of Christ led to results the opposite of those wished for. For, the evidential value of their attestation of their son’s blindness was manifestly proportional to their fear of committing themselves to any testimony for Christ, well knowing what it would entail.

For to persons so wretchedly poor as to allow their son to live by begging, the consequence of being ‘un-Synagogued,’ or put outside the congregation – which was to be the punishment of any who confessed Jesus as the Messiah – would have been dreadful. Talmudic writings speak of two, or rather, we should say, of three, kinds of ‘excommunication,’ of which the two first were chiefly disciplinary, while the third was the real ‘casting out,’ ‘un-Synagoguing,’ ‘cutting off from the congregation.’ The general designation for ‘excommunication’ was shamata, although, according to its literal meaning, the term would only apply to the severest form of it. The first and lightest degree was the so-called nezip̱ah or nezip̱uṯa: properly, ‘a rebuke,’ an inveighing. Ordinarily, its duration extended over seven days; but, if pronounced by the nasi, or Head of the Sanhedrin, it lasted for thirty days. In later times, however, it only rested for one day on the guilty person. Perhaps Paul referred to this ‘rebuke’ in the expression which he used about an offending Elder. He certainly adopted the practice in Palestine, when he would not have an Elder ‘rebuked’ although he went far beyond it when he would have such ‘entreated.’ In Palestine it was ordered, that an offending Rabbi should be scourged instead of being excommunicated. Yet another direction of Paul’s is evidently derived from these arrangements of the Synagogue, although applied in a far different spirit. When the Apostle wrote: ‘An heretic after the first and second admonition reject;’ there must have been in his mind the second degree of Jewish excommunication, the so-called nidui (from the verb to thrust, thrust out, cast out). This lasted for thirty days at the least, although among the Babylonians only for seven days. At the end of that term there was ‘a second admonition,’ which lasted other thirty days. If still unrepentant, the third, or real excommunication, was pronounced, which was called the ḥerem or ban, and of which the duration was indefinite. Any three persons, or even one duly authorised, could pronounce the lowest sentence. The greater excommunication (nidui) – which, happily, could only be pronounced in an assembly of ten – must have been terrible, being accompanied by curses,  and, at a later period, sometimes proclaimed with the blast of the horn.  If the person so visited occupied an honourable position, it was the custom to intimate his sentence in a euphemistic manner, such as: ‘It seems to me that thy companions are separating themselves from thee.’ He who was so, or similarly addressed, would only too well understand its meaning. Henceforth he would sit on the ground, and bear himself like one in deep mourning. He would allow his beard and hair to grow wild and shaggy; he would not bathe, nor anoint himself; he would not be admitted into an assembly of ten men, neither to public prayer, nor to the Academy; though he might either teach, or be taught by, single individuals. Nay, as if he were a leper, people would keep at a distance of four cubits from him. If he died, stones were cast on his coffin, nor was he allowed the honour of the ordinary funeral, nor were they to mourn for him. Still more terrible was the final excommunication, or ḥeremi, when a ban of indefinite duration was laid on a man. Henceforth he was like one dead. He was not allowed to study with others, no intercourse was to be held with him, he was not even to be shown the road. He might, indeed, buy the necessaries of life, but it was forbidden to eat or drink with such an one.

We can understand, how everyone would dread such an anathema. But when we remember, what it would involve to persons in the rank of life, and so miserably poor as the parents of that blind man, we no longer wonder at their evasion of the question put by the Sanhedrin. And if we ask ourselves, on what ground so terrible a punishment could be inflicted to all time and in every place – for the ban once pronounced applied everywhere – simply for the confession of Jesus as the Christ, the answer is not difficult. The Rabbinists enumerate twenty-four grounds for excommunication, of which more than one might serve the purpose of the Pharisees. But in general, to resist the authority of the Scribes, or any of their decrees, or to lead others either away from ‘the commandments,’ or to what was regarded as profanation of the Divine Name, was sufficient to incur the ban, while it must be borne in mind that excommunication by the President of the Sanhedrin extended to all places and persons.

As nothing could be elicited from his parents, the man who had been blind was once more summoned before the Pharisees. It was no longer to inquire into the reality of his alleged blindness, nor to ask about the cure, but simply to demand of him recantation, though this was put in the most specious manner. Thou hast been healed: own that it was only by God’s Hand miraculously stretched forth, and that ‘this man’ had nothing to do with it, save that the coincidence may have been allowed to try the faith of Israel. It could not have been Jesus Who had done it, for they knew Him to be ‘a sinner.’ Of the two alternatives they had chosen that of the absolute rightness of their own Sabbath-traditions as against the evidence of His Miracles. Virtually, then, this was the condemnation of Christ and the apotheosis of traditionalism. And yet, false as their conclusion was, there was this truth in their premisses, that they judged of miracles by the moral evidence in regard to Him, Who was represented as working them.

But he who had been healed of his blindness was not to be so betrayed into a denunciation of his great Physician. The simplicity and earnestness of his convictions enabled him to gain even a logical victory. It was his turn now to bring back the question to the issue which they had originally raised; and we admire it all the more, as we remember the consequences to this poor man of thus daring the Pharisees. As against their opinion about Jesus, as to the correctness of which neither he nor others could have direct knowledge, there was the unquestionable fact of his healing of which he had personal knowledge. The renewed inquiry now by the Pharisees, as to the manner in which Jesus had healed him, might have had for its object to betray the man into a positive confession, or to elicit something demoniacal in the mode of the cure. The blind man had now fully the advantage. He had already told them; why the renewed inquiry? As he put it half ironically: Was it because they felt the wrongness of their own position, and that they should become His disciples? It stung them to the quick; they lost all self-possession, and with this their moral defeat became complete. ‘Thou art the disciple of that man, but we (according to the favourite phrase) are the disciples of Moses.’ Of the Divine Mission of Moses they knew, but of the Mission of Jesus they knew nothing. The unlettered man had now the full advantage in the controversy. ‘In this, indeed,’ there was ‘the marvellous,’ that the leaders of Israel should confess themselves ignorant of the authority of One, Who had power to open the eyes of the blind – a marvel which had never before been witnessed. If He had that power, whence had He obtained it, and why? It could only have been from God. They said, He was ‘a sinner’ – and yet there was no principle more frequently repeated by the Rabbis, than that answers to prayer depended on a man being ‘devout’ and doing the Will of God. There could therefore be only one inference: If Jesus had not Divine Authority, He could not have had Divine Power.

The argument was unanswerable, and in its unanswerableness shows us, not indeed the purpose, but the evidential force of Christ’s Miracles. In one sense they had no purpose, or rather were purpose to themselves, being the forthbursting of His Power and the manifestation of His Being and Mission, of which latter, as applied to things physical, they were part. But the truthful reasoning of that untutored man, which confounded the acuteness of the sages, shows the effect of these manifestations on all whose hearts were open to the truth. The Pharisees had nothing to answer, and, as not unfrequently in analogous cases, could only, in their fury, cast him out with bitter reproaches. Would he teach them – he, whose very disease showed him to have been a child conceived and born in sin, and who, ever since his birth, had been among ignorant, Law-neglecting ‘sinners?’

But there was Another, Who watched and knew him: He Whom, so far as he knew, he had dared to confess, and for Whom he was content to suffer. Let him now have the reward of his faith, even its completion; and so shall it become manifest to all time, how, as we follow and cherish the better light, it riseth upon us in all its brightness, and that faithfulness in little bringeth the greater stewardship. Tenderly did Jesus seek him out, wherever it may have been: and, as He found him, this one question did He ask, whether the conviction of his experience was not growing into the higher faith of the yet unseen: ‘Dost thou believe on the Son of God?’ ‘He had had personal experience of Him – was not that such as to lead up to the higher faith? And is it not always so, that the higher faith is based on the conviction of personal experience – that we believe on Him as the Son of God, because we have experience of Him as the God-sent, Who has Divine Power, and has opened the eyes of the blind-born – and Who has done to us what had never been done by any other in the world? Thus is faith always the child of experience, and yet its father also; faith not without experience, and yet beyond experience; faith not superseded by experience, but made reasonable by it.

To such a soul it needed only the directing Word of Christ. ‘And Who is He, Lord, that I may believe on Him?’ It seems as if the question of Jesus had kindled in him the conviction of what was the right answer. We almost see how, like a well of living water, the words sprang gladsome from his inmost heart, and how he looked up expectant on Jesus. To such readiness of faith there could be only one answer. In language more plain than He had ever before used, Jesus answered, and with immediate confession of implicit faith the man lowly worshipped. And so it was, that the first time he saw his Deliverer, it was to worship Him. It was the highest stage yet attained. What contrast this faith and worship of the poor unlettered man, once blind, now in every sense seeing, to the blindness of judgment which had fallen on those who were the leaders of Israel! The cause alike of the one and the other was the Person of the Christ. For our relationship to Him determines sight or blindness, as we either receive the evidence of what He is from what He indubitably does, or reject it, because we hold by our own false conceptions of God, and of what His Will to us is. And so is Christ also for ‘judgment.’

There were those who still followed Him – not convinced by, nor as yet decided against Him – Pharisees, who well understood the application of His Words. Formally, it had been a contest between traditionalism and the Work of Christ. They also were traditionalists – were they also blind? But, nay, they had misunderstood Him by leaving out the moral element, thus showing themselves blind indeed. It was not the calamity of blindness; but it was a blindness in which they were guilty, and for which they were responsible, which indeed was the result of their deliberate choice: therefore their sin – not their blindness only – remained!

(Joh 10:1-21)

The closing words which Jesus had spoken to those Pharisees who followed Him breathe the sadness of expected near judgment, rather than the hopefulness of expostulation. And the Discourse which followed, ere He once more left Jerusalem, is of the same character. It seems, as if Jesus could not part from the City in holy anger, but ever, and only, with tears. All the topics of the former Discourses are now resumed and applied. They are not in any way softened or modified, but uttered in accents of loving sadness rather than of reproving monition. This connection with the past proves, that the Discourse was spoken immediately after, and in connection with, the events recorded in the previous chapters. At the same time, the tone adopted by Christ prepares us for His Peraean Ministry, which may be described as that of the last and fullest outgoing of His most intense pity. This, in contrast to what was exhibited by the rulers of Israel, and which would so soon bring terrible judgment on them. For, if such things were done in ‘the green tree’ of Israel’s Messiah-King, what would the end be in the dry wood of Israel’s commonwealth and institutions?

It was in accordance with the character of the Discourse presently under consideration, that Jesus spake it, not, indeed, in Parables in the strict sense (for none such are recorded in the Fourth Gospel), but in an allegory in the Parabolic form, hiding the higher truths from those who, having eyes, had not seen, but revealing them to such whose eyes had been opened. If the scenes of the last few days had made anything plain, it was the utter unfitness of the teachers of Israel for their professed work of feeding the flock of God. The Rabbinists also called their spiritual leaders ‘feeders,’ parnasin (פרנסי) term by which the Targum renders some of the references to ‘the Shepherds’ in Eze 34 and Zec 9. The term comprised the two ideas of ‘leading’ and ‘feeding,’ which are separately insisted on in the Lord’s allegory. As we think of it, no better illustration, nor more apt, could be found for those to whom ‘the flock of God’ was entrusted. It needed not therefore that a sheepfold should have been in view, to explain the form of Christ’s address. It only required to recall the Old Testament language about the shepherding of God, and that of evil shepherds, to make the application to what had so lately happened. They were, surely, not shepherds, who had cast out the healed blind man, or who so judged of the Christ, and would cast out all His disciples. They had entered into God’s Sheepfold, but not by the door by which the owner, God, had brought His flock into the fold. To it the entrance had been His free love, His gracious provision, His thoughts of pardoning, His purpose of saving mercy. That was God’s Old Testament-door into His Sheepfold. Not by that door, as had so lately fully appeared, had Israel’s rulers come in. They had climbed up to their place in the fold some other way – with the same right, or by the same wrong, as a thief or a robber. They had wrongfully taken what did not belong to them – cunningly and undetected, like a thief; they had allotted it to themselves, and usurped it by violence, like a robber. What more accurate description could be given of the means by which the Pharisees and Sadducees had attained the rule over God’s flock, and claimed it for themselves? And what was true of them holds equally so of all, who, like them, enter by ‘some other way.’

How different He, Who comes in and leads us through God’s door of covenant-mercy and Gospel-promise – the door by which God had brought, and ever brings, His flock into His fold! This was the true Shepherd. The allegory must, of course, not be too closely pressed; but, as we remember how in the East the flocks are at night driven into a large fold, and charge of them is given to an under shepherd, we can understand how, when the shepherd comes in the morning, ‘the doorkeeper’ or ‘guardian’ opens to him. In interpreting the allegory, stress must be laid not so much on any single phrase, be it the ‘porter,’ the ‘door,’ or the ‘opening,’ as on their combination. If the shepherd comes to the door, the porter hastens to open it to him from within, that he may obtain access to the flock; and when a true spiritual Shepherd comes to the true spiritual door, it is opened to him by the guardian from within, that is, he finds ready and immediate access. Equally pictorial is the progress of the allegory. Having thus gained access to His flock, it has not been to steal or rob, but the Shepherd knows and calls them, each by his name, and leads them out. We mark that in the expression: ‘when He has put forth all His own,’ – the word is a strong one. For they have to go each singly, and perhaps they are not willing to go out each by himself, or even to leave that fold, and so he ‘puts’ or thrusts them forth, and He does so to ‘all His own.’ Then the Eastern shepherd places himself at the head of his flock, and goes before them, guiding them, making sure of their following simply by his voice, which they know. So would His flock follow Christ, for they know His Voice, and in vain would strangers seek to lead them away, as the Pharisees had tried. It was not the known Voice of their own Shepherd, and they would only flee from it.

We can scarcely wonder, that they who heard it did not understand the allegory, for they were not of His flock and knew not His Voice. But His own knew it then, and would know it for ever. ‘Therefore,’ both for the sake of the one and the other, He continued, now dividing for greater clearness the two leading ideas of His allegory, and applying each separately for better comfort. These two ideas were: entrance by the door, and the characteristics of the good Shepherd – thus affording a twofold test by which to recognise the true, and distinguish it from the false.

I. The door – Christ was the Door. The entrance into God’s fold and to God’s flock was only through that, of which Christ was the reality. And it had ever been so. All the Old Testament institutions, prophecies, and promises, so far as they referred to access into God’s fold, meant Christ. And all those who went before Him, pretending to be the door – whether Pharisees, Sadducees, or Nationalists – were only thieves and robbers: that was not the door into the Kingdom of God. And the sheep, God’s flock, did not hear them; for, although they might pretend to lead the flock, the voice was that of strangers. The transition now to another application of the allegorical idea of the ‘door’ was natural and almost necessary, though it appears somewhat abrupt. Even in this it is peculiarly Jewish. We must understand this transition as follows: I am the Door; those who professed otherwise to gain access to the fold have climbed in some other way. But if I am the only, I am also truly the Door. And, dropping the figure, if any man enters by Me, he shall be saved, securely go out and in (where the language is not to be closely pressed), in the sense of having liberty and finding pasture.

II. This forms also the transition to the second leading idea of the allegory: the True and Good Shepherd. Here we mark a fourfold progression of thought, which reminds us of the poetry of the Book of Psalms. There the thought expressed in one line or one couplet is carried forward and developed in the next, forming what are called the Ps of Ascent (‘of Degrees’). And in the Discourse of Christ also the final thought of each couplet of verses is carried forward, or rather leads upward in the next. Thus we have here a Ps of Degrees concerning the Good Shepherd and His Flock, and, at the same time, a New Testament version of Psa_23:1-6. Accordingly its analysis might be formulated as follows: – 

1. Christ, the Good Shepherd, in contrast to others who falsely claimed to be the shepherds. Their object had been self, and they had pursued it even at the cost of the sheep, of their life and safety. He ‘came’ for them, to give, not to take, ‘that they may have life and have abundance.’

‘Life,’ – nay, that they may have it, I ‘lay down’ Mine: so does it appear that ‘I am the Good Shepherd.’

2. The Good Shepherd Who layeth down His life for His Sheep! What a contrast to a mere hireling, whose are not the sheep, and who fleeth at sight of the wolf (danger), ‘and the wolf seizeth them, and scattereth (viz., the flock): (he fleeth) because he is a hireling, and careth not for the sheep.’ The simile of the wolf must not be too closely pressed, but taken in a general sense, to point the contrast to Him ‘Who layeth down His Life for His sheep.

Truly He is – is seen to be – ‘the fair Shepherder,’ Whose are the sheep, and as such, ‘I know Mine, and Mine know Me, even as the Father knoweth Me, and I know the Father. And I lay down My Life for the sheep.’

3. For the sheep that are Mine, whom I know, and for whom I lay down My Life! But those sheep, they are not only ‘of this fold,’ not all of the Jewish ‘fold,’ but also scattered sheep of the Gentiles. They have all the characteristics of the flock: they are His; and they hear His Voice; but as yet they are outside the fold. Them also the Good Shepherd ‘must lead,’ and, in evidence that they are His, as He calls them and goes before them, they shall hear His Voice, and so, O most glorious consummation, ‘they shall become one flock and one Shepherd.’

And thus is the great goal of the Old Testament reached, and ‘the good tidings of great joy’ which issue from Israel ‘are unto all people.’ The Kingdom of David, which is the Kingdom of God, is set up upon earth, and opened to all believers. We cannot help noticing – though it almost seems to detract from it – how different from the Jewish ideas of it is this Kingdom with its Shepherd-King, Who knows and Who lays down His Life for the sheep, and Who leads the Gentiles not to subjection nor to inferiority, but to equality of faith and privileges, taking the Jews out of their special fold and leading up the Gentiles, and so making of both ‘one flock.’ Whence did Jesus of Nazareth obtain these thoughts and views, towering so far aloft of all around?

But, on the other hand, they are utterly un-Gentile also – if by the term ‘Gentile’ we mean the ‘Gentile Churches,’ in antagonism to the Jewish Christians, as a certain school of critics would represent them, which traces the origin of this Gospel to this separation. A Gospel written in that spirit would never have spoken on this wise of the mutual relation of Jews and Gentiles towards Christ and in the Church. The sublime words of Jesus are only compatible with one supposition: that He was indeed the Christ of God. Nay, although men have studied or cavilled at these words for eighteen and a half centuries, they have not yet reached unto this: ‘They shall become one flock, one Shepherd.’

4. In the final Step of ‘Ascent’ the leading thoughts of the whole Discourse are taken up and carried to the last and highest thought. The Good Shepherd that brings together the One Flock! Yes – by laying down His Life, but also by taking it up again. Both are necessary for the work of the Good Shepherd – nay, the life is laid down in the surrender of sacrifice, in order that it may be taken up again, and much more fully, in the Resurrection-Power. And, therefore, His Father loveth Him as the Messiah-Shepherd, Who so fully does the work committed to Him, and so entirely surrenders Himself to it.

His Death, His Resurrection – let no one imagine that it comes from without! It is His own act. He has ‘power’ in regard to both, and both are His own, voluntary, Sovereign, and Divine acts.

And this, all this, in order to be the Shepherd-Saviour – to die, and rise for His Sheep, and thus to gather them all, Jews and Gentiles, into one flock, and to be their Shepherd. This, neither more nor less, was the Mission which God had given Him; this, ‘the commandment’ which He had received of His Father – that which God had given Him to do.

It was a noble close of the series of those Discourses in the Temple, which had it for their object to show, that He was truly sent of God.

And, in a measure, they attained that object. To some, indeed, it all seemed unintelligible, incoherent, madness; and they fell back on the favourite explanation of all this strange drama – He hath a demon! But others there were – let us hope, many, not yet His disciples – to whose hearts these words went straight. And how could they resist the impression? ‘These utterances are not of a demonised’ – and, then, it came back to them: ‘Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?’

And so, once again, the Light of His Words and His Person fell upon His Works, and, as ever, revealed their character, and made them clear.

Note: It seems right here, in a kind of ‘Postscript-Note,’ to call attention to what could not have been inserted in the text without breaking up its unity, and yet seems too important to be relegated to an ordinary foot-note. In Yoma 66b, lines 18 to 24 from top, we have a series of questions addressed to Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanos, designed – as it seems to me – to test his views about Jesus and his relation to the new doctrine. Rabbi Eliezer, one of the greatest Rabbis, was the brother-in-law of Gamaliel II., the son of that Gamaliel at whose feet Paul sat. He may, therefore, have been acquainted with the Apostle. And we have indubitable evidence that he had intercourse with Jewish Christians, and took pleasure in their teaching; and, further, that he was accused of favouring Christianity. Under these circumstances, the series of covered, enigmatic questions, reported as addressed to him, gains a new interest. I can only repeat, that I regard them as referring to the Person and the Words of Christ. One of these questions is to this effect: ‘Is it [right, proper, duty] for the Shepherd to save a lamb from the lion?’ To this the Rabbi gives (as always in this series of questions) an evasive answer, as follows: ‘You have only asked me about the lamb.’ On this the following question is next put, I presume by way of forcing an express reply: ‘Is it [right, proper, duty] to save the Shepherd from the lion?’ and to this the Rabbi once more evasively replies: ‘You have only asked me about the Shepherd.’ Thus, as the words of Christ to which covert reference is made have only meaning when the two ideas of the Sheep and the Shepherd are combined, the Rabbi, by dividing them, cleverly evaded giving an answer to his questioners. But these inferences come to us, all of deepest importance: 1. I regard the questions above quoted as containing a distinct reference to the words of Christ in Joh_10:11. Indeed, the whole string of questions, of which the above form part, refers to Christ and His Words. 2. It casts a peculiar light, not only upon the personal history of this great Rabbi, the brother-in-law of the Patriarch Gamaliel II., but a side-light also, on the history of Nicodemus. Of course, such evasive answers are utterly unworthy of a disciple of Christ, and quite incompatible with the boldness of confession which must characterise them. But the question arises – now often seriously discussed by Jewish writers: how far many Rabbis and laymen may have gone in their belief of Christ, and yet – at least in too many instances – fallen short of discipleship; and, lastly, as to the relation between the early Church and the Jews, on which not a few things of deep interest have to be said, though it may not be on the present occasion. 3. Critically also, the quotation is of the deepest importance. For, does it not furnish a reference – and that on the lips of Jews – to the Fourth Gospel, and that from the close of the first century? There is here something which the opponents of its genuineness and authenticity will have to meet and answer.

Another series of similar allegorical questions in connection with R. Joshua b. Chananyah is recorded in Bekhor. 8a and b, but answered by the Rabbi in an anti-Christian sense. See Mandelstamm, Talmud. Stud. 1. But Mandelstamm goes too far in his view of the purely allegorical meaning, especially of the introductory part.

(Mat 12:22-45; Luk 11:14-36)

It was well that Jesus should, for the present, have parted from Jerusalem with words like these. They would cling about His hearers like the odour of incense that had ascended. Even ‘the schism’ that had come among them concerning His Person made it possible not only to continue His Teaching, but to return to the City once more ere His final entrance. For, His Peraean Ministry, which extended from after the Feast of Tabernacles to the week preceding the last Passover, was, so to speak, cut in half by the brief visit of Jesus to Jerusalem at the Feast of the Dedication. Thus, each part of the Peraean Ministry would last about three months; the first, from about the end of September to the month of December; the second, from that period to the beginning of April. Of these six months we have (with the solitary exception of Mt 12:22-45), no other account than that furnished by Luke,  although, as usually, the Jerusalem and Judaean incidents of it are described by John. After that we have the account of His journey to the last Passover, recorded, with more or less detail, in the three Synoptic Gospels.

It will be noticed that this section is peculiarly lacking in incident. It consists almost exclusively of Discourses and Parables, with but few narrative portions interspersed. And this, not only because the season of the year must have made itinerancy difficult, and thus have hindered the introduction to new scenes and of new persons, but chiefly from the character of His Ministry in Peraea. We remember that, similarly, the beginning of Christ’s Galilean Ministry had been chiefly marked by Discourses and Parables. Besides, after what had passed, and must now have been so well known, illustrative Deeds could scarcely have been so requisite in Peraea. In fact, His Peraean was, substantially, a resumption of His early Galilean Ministry, only modified and influenced by the much fuller knowledge of the people concerning Christ, and the greatly developed enmity of their leaders. This accounts for the recurrence, although in fuller, or else in modified, form, of many things recorded in the earlier part of this History. Thus, to begin with, we can understand how He would, at this initial stage of His Peraean, as in that of His Galilean Ministry, repeat, when asked for instruction concerning prayer, those sacred words ever since known as the Lord’s Prayer. The variations are so slight as to be easily accounted for by the individuality of the reporter. They afford, however, the occasion for remarking on the two principal differences. In Luke the prayer is for the forgiveness of ‘sins,’ while Matthew uses the Hebraic term ‘debts,’ which has passed even into the Jewish Liturgy, denoting our guilt as indebtedness (מחוק כל שטרי חובותינו). Again, the ‘day by day’ of Luke, which further explains the petition for ‘daily bread,’ common both to Matthew and Luke, may be illustrated by the beautiful Rabbinic teaching, that the Manna fell only for each day, in order that thought of their daily dependence might call forth constant faith in our ‘Father Which is in heaven.  Another Rabbinic saying places our nourishment on the same level with our redemption, as regards the thanks due to God and the fact that both are day by day. Yet a third Rabbinic saying notes the peculiar manner in which both nourishment and redemption are always mentioned in Scripture (by reduplicated expressions), and how, while redemption took place by an Angel, nourishment is attributed directly to God.

But to return. From the introductory expression: ‘When (or whenever) ye pray, say’ – we venture to infer, that this prayer was intended, not only as the model, but as furnishing the words for the future use of the Church. Yet another suggestion may be made. The request, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples,’ seems to indicate what was ‘the certain place,’ which, now consecrated by our Lord’s prayer, became the school for ours. It seems at least likely, that the allusion of the disciples to the Baptist may have been prompted by the circumstance, that the locality was that which had been the scene of John’s labours – of course, in Peraea. Such a note of place is the more interesting, that Luke so rarely indicates localities. In fact, he leaves us in ignorance of what was the central place in Christ’s Peraean Ministry, although there must have been such. In the main, the events are, indeed, most likely narrated in their chronological order. But, as Discourses, Parables, and incidents are so closely mixed up, it will be better, in a work like the present, for clearness’ and briefness’ sake, to separate and group them, so far as possible. Accordingly, this chapter will be devoted to the briefest summary of the Lord’s Discourses in Peraea, previous to His return to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Dedication of the Temple.

The first of these was on the occasion of His casting out a demon, and restoring speech to the demonised; or if, as seems likely, the cure is the same as that recorded in Mat_12:22, both sight and speech, which had probably been paralysed. This is one of the cases in which it is difficult to determine whether narratives in different Gospels, with slightly varying details, represent different events or only differing modes of narration. It needs no argument to prove, that substantially the same event, such as the healing of a blind or dumb demonised person, may, and probably would, have taken place on more than one occasion, and that, when it occurred, it would elicit substantially the same remarks by the people, and the same charge against Christ of superior demoniac agency which the Pharisees had now distinctly formulated. Again, when recording similar events, the Evangelists would naturally come to tell them in much the same manner. Hence, it does not follow that two similar narratives in different Gospels always represent the same event. But in this instance, it seems likely. The earlier place which it occupies in the Gospel by Matthew may be explained by its position in a group denunciatory of the Pharisees; and the notice there of their blasphemous charge of His being the instrument of Satan probably indicates the outcome of their ‘council,’ how they might destroy Him. 

It is this charge of the Pharisees which forms the main subject of Christ’s address, His language being now much more explicit than formerly, even as the opposition of the Pharisees had more fully ripened. In regard to the slight difference in the narratives of Matthew and Luke, we mark that, as always, the Words of the Lord are more fully reported by the former, while the latter supplies some vivid pictorial touches. The following are the leading features of Christ’s reply to the Pharisaic charge: First, it was utterly unreasonable, and inconsistent with their own premisses, showing that their ascription of Satanic agency to what Christ did was only prompted by hostility to His Person. This mode of turning the argument against the arguer was peculiarly Hebraic, and it does not imply any assertion on the part of Christ, as to whether or not the disciples of the Pharisees really cast out demons. Mentally, we must supply – according to your own professions, your disciples cast out demons. If so, by whom are they doing it?

But, secondly, beneath this logical argumentation lies deep and spiritual instruction, closely connected with the late teaching during the festive days in Jerusalem. It is directed against the flimsy, superstitious, and unspiritual views entertained by Israel, alike of the Kingdom of evil and of that of God. For, if we ignore the moral aspect of Satan and his kingdom, all degenerates into the absurdities and superstitions of the Jewish view concerning demons and Satan, which are fully described in another place. On the other hand, introduce the ideas of moral evil, of the concentration of its power in a kingdom of which Satan is the representative and ruler, and of our own inherent sinfulness, which makes us his subjects – and all becomes clear. Then, truly, can Satan not cast out Satan – else how could his kingdom stand; then, also, is the casting out of Satan only by ‘God’s Spirit,’ or ‘Finger:’ and this is the Kingdom of God. Nay, by their own admission, the casting out of Satan was part of the work of Messiah.  Then had the Kingdom of God, indeed, come to them – for in this was the Kingdom of God; and He was the God-sent Messiah, come not for the glory of Israel, nor for anything outward or intellectual, but to engage in mortal conflict with moral evil, and with Satan as its representative. In that contest Christ, as the Stronger, bindeth ‘the strong one,’ spoils his house (divideth his spoil), and takes from him the armour in which his strength lay (‘he trusted’) by taking away the power of sin. This is the work of the Messiah – and, therefore also, no one can be indifferent towards Him, because all, being by nature in a certain relation towards Satan, must, since the Messiah had commenced His Work, occupy a definite relationship towards the Christ Who combats Satan. 

It follows, that the work of the Christ is a moral contest waged through the Spirit of God, in which, from their position, all must take a part. But it is conceivable that a man may not only try to be passively, but even be actively on the enemy’s side, and this not by merely speaking against the Christ, which might be the outcome of ignorance or unbelief, but by representing that as Satanic which was the object of His Coming. Such perversion of all that is highest and holiest, such opposition to, and denunciation of, the Holy Spirit as if He were the manifestation of Satan, represents sin in its absolute completeness, and for which there can be no pardon, since the state of mind of which it is the outcome admits not the possibility of repentance, because its essence lies in this, to call that Satanic which is the very object of repentance. It were unduly to press the Words of Christ, to draw from them such inferences as, whether sins unforgiven in this world might or might not be forgiven in the next, since, manifestly, it was not the intention of Christ to teach on this subject. On the other hand, His Words seem to imply that, at least as regards this sin, there is no room for forgiveness in the other world. For, the expression is not ‘the age to come’ (עתיד לבוא), but, ‘the world to come’ (עולם הבא or, עלמא דאתי), which, as we know, does not strictly refer to Messianic times, but to the future and eternal, as distinguished both from this world (עולם הזה), and from ‘the days of the Messiah’ (ימות המשיח).

3. But this recognition of the spiritual, which was the opposite of the sin against the Holy Ghost, was, as Christ had so lately explained in Jerusalem, only to be attained by spiritual kinship with it. The tree must be made good, if the fruit were to be good; tree and fruit would correspond to each other. How, then, could these Pharisees ‘speak good things,’ since the state of the heart determined speech and action? Hence, a man would have to give an account even of every idle word, since, however trifling it might appear to others or to oneself, it was really the outcome of ‘the heart,’ and showed the inner state. And thus, in reality would a man’s future in judgment be determined by his words; a conclusion the more solemn, when we remember its bearing on what His disciples on the one side, and the Pharisees on the other, said concerning Christ and the Spirit of God.

4. Both logically and morally the Words of Christ were unanswerable; and the Pharisees fell back on the old device of challenging proof of His Divine Mission by some visible sign. But this was to avoid the appeal to the moral element which the Lord had made; it was an attempt to shift the argument from the moral to the physical. It was the moral that was at fault, or rather, wanting in them; and no amount of physical evidence or demonstration could have supplied that. All the signs from heaven would not have supplied the deep sense of sin and of the need for a mighty spiritual deliverance, which alone would lead to the reception of the Saviour Christ. Hence, as under previous similar circumstances, He would offer them only one sign, that of Jonas the prophet. But whereas on the former occasion Christ chiefly referred to Jonas’ preaching (of repentance), on this He rather pointed to the allegorical history of Jonas as the Divine attestation of his Mission. As he appeared in Nineveh, he was himself ‘a sign unto the Ninevites;’ the fact that he had been three days and nights in the whale’s belly, and that thence he had, so to speak, been sent forth alive to preach in Nineveh, was evidence to them that he had been sent of God. And so would it be again. After three days and three nights ‘in the heart of the earth’ – which is a Hebraism for ‘in the earth’ – would His Resurrection Divinely attest to this generation His Mission. The Ninevites did not question, but received this attestation of Jonas; nay, an authentic report of the wisdom of Solomon had been sufficient to bring the Queen of Sheba from so far; in the one case it was, because they felt their sin; in the other, because she felt need and longing for better wisdom than she possessed. But these were the very elements wanting in the men of this generation; and so both Nineveh and the Queen of Sheba would stand up, not only as mute witnesses against, but to condemn, them. For, the great Reality of which the preaching of Jonas had been only the type, and for which the wisdom of Solomon had been only the preparation, had been presented to them in Christ.

5. And so, having put aside this cavil, Jesus returned to His former teaching concerning the Kingdom of Satan and the power of evil; only now with application, not, as before, to the individual, but, as prompted by a view of the unbelieving resistance of Israel, to the Jewish commonwealth as a whole. Here, also, it must be remembered, that, as the words used by our Lord were allegorical and illustrative, they must not be too closely pressed. As compared with the other nations of the world, Israel was like a house from which the demon of idolatry had gone out with all his attendants – really the ‘Beel-Zibbul’ whom they dreaded. And then the house had been swept of all the foulness and uncleanness of idolatry, and garnished with all manner of Pharisaic adornments. Yet all this while the house was left really empty; God was not there; the Stronger One, Who alone could have resisted the Strong One, held not rule in it. And so the demon returned to it again, to find the house whence he had come out, swept and garnished indeed – but also empty and defenceless. The folly of Israel lay in this, that they thought of only one demon – him of idolatry – Beel-Zibbul, with all his foulness. That was all very repulsive, and they had carefully removed it. But they knew that demons were only manifestations of demoniac power, and that there was a Kingdom of evil. So this house, swept of the foulness of heathenism and adorned with all the self-righteousness of Pharisaism, but empty of God, would only become a more suitable and more secure habitation of Satan; because, from its cleanness and beauty, his presence and rule there as an evil spirit would not be suspected. So, to continue the illustrative language of Christ, he came back ‘with seven other spirits more wicked than himself’ – pride, self-righteousness, unbelief, and the like, the number seven being general – and thus the last state – Israel without the foulness of gross idolatry and garnished with all the adornments of Pharisaic devotion to the study and practice of the Law – was really worse than had been the first with all its open repulsiveness.

6. Once more was the Discourse interrupted, this time by a truly Jewish incident. A woman in the crowd burst into exclamations about the blessedness of the Mother who had borne and nurtured such a Son. The phraseology seems to have been not uncommon, since it is equally applied by the Rabbis to Moses, and even to a great Rabbi. More striking, perhaps, is another Rabbinic passage (previously quoted), in which Israel is described as breaking forth into these words on beholding the Messiah: ‘Blessed the hour in which Messiah was created; blessed the womb whence He issued; blessed the generation that sees Him; blessed the eye that is worthy to behold Him. 

Christ, as being the exaltation of only His Human Personal excellence, intellectual or moral. It quite looked away from that which He would present: His Work and Mission as the Saviour. Hence it was, although from the opposite direction, as great a misunderstanding as the Personal depreciation of the Pharisees. Or, to use another illustration, this praise of the Christ through His Virgin-Mother was as unacceptable and unsuitable as the depreciation of the Christ, which really, though unconsciously, underlay the loving care of the Virgin-Mother when she would have arrested Him in His Work, and which (perhaps for this very reason) Matthew relates in the same connection. Accordingly, the answer in both cases is substantially the same: to point away from His merely Human Personality to His Work and Mission – in the one case: ‘Whosoever shall do the Will of My Father Which is in heaven, the same is My brother, and sister, and mother;’ in the other: ‘Yea rather, blessed are they that hear the Word of God and keep it.’

7. And now the Discourse draws to a close by a fresh application of what, in some other form or connection, Christ had taught at the outset of His public Ministry in the ‘Sermon on the Mount.’ Rightly to understand its present connection, we must pass over the various interruptions of Christ’s Discourse, and join this as the conclusion to the previous part, which contained the main subject. This was, that spiritual knowledge presupposed spiritual kinship. Here, as becomes the close of a Discourse, the same truth is practically applied in a more popular and plain, one might almost say realistic, manner. As here put, it is, that spiritual receptiveness is ever the condition of spiritual reception. What was the object of lighting a lamp? Surely, that it may give, light. But if so, no one would put it into a vault, nor under the bushel, but on the stand. Should we then expect that God would light the spiritual lamp, if it be put in a dark vault? Or, to take an illustration of it from the eye, which, as regards the body, serves the same purpose as the lamp in a house. Does it not depend on the state of the eye whether or not we have the sensation, enjoyment, and benefit of the light? Let us, therefore, take care, lest, by placing, as it were, the lamp in a vault, the light in us be really only darkness. On the other hand, if by means of a good eye the light is transmitted through the whole system – if it is not turned into darkness, like a lamp that is put into a vault or under a bushel, instead of being set up to spread light through the house – then shall we be wholly full of light. And this, finally, explains the reception or rejection of Christ: how, in the words of an Apostle, the same Gospel would be both a savour of life unto life, and of death unto death.

It was a blessed lesson with which to close His Discourse, and one full of light, if only they had not put it into the vault of their darkened hearts. Yet presently would it shine forth again, and give light to those whose eyes were opened to receive it; for, according to the Divine rule and spiritual order, to him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not shall be taken away even that he hath.

(Luk 11:37-54)

Bitter as was the enmity of the Pharisaic party against Jesus, it had not yet so far spread, nor become so avowed, as in every place to supersede the ordinary rules of courtesy. It is thus that we explain that invitation of a Pharisee to the morning-meal, which furnished the occasion for the second recorded Peraean Discourse of Christ. Alike in substance and tone, it is a continuation of His former address to the Pharisees. And it is probably here inserted in order to mark the further development of Christ’s anti-Pharisaic teaching. It is the last address to the Pharisees, recorded in the Gospel of Luke. A similar last appeal is recorded in a much later portion of Matthew’s Gospel, only that Luke reports that spoken in Peraea, Matthew that made in Jerusalem. This may also partly account for the similarity of language in the two Discourses. Not only were the circumstances parallel, but the language held at the end may naturally have recurred to the writer, when reporting the last controversial Discourse in Peraea. Thus it may well have been, that Christ said substantially the same things on both occasions, and yet that, in the report of them, some of the later modes of expression may have been transferred to the earlier occasion. And because the later both represents and presents the fullest anti-Pharisaic Discourse of the Saviour, it will be better to postpone our analysis till we reach that period of His Life.

Some distinctive points, however, must here be noted. The remarks already made will explain, how some time may have elapsed between this and the former Discourse, and that the expression, ‘And as He spake’ must not be pressed as a mark of time (referring to the immediately preceding Discourse), but rather be regarded as indicating the circumstances under which a Pharisee had bidden Him to the meal. Indeed, we can scarcely imagine that, immediately after such a charge by the Pharisees as that Jesus acted as the representative of Beelzebul, and such a reply on the part of Jesus, a Pharisee would have invited Him to a friendly meal, or that ‘Lawyers,’ or, to use a modern term, ‘Canonists,’ would have been present at it. How different their feelings were after they had heard His denunciations, appears from the bitterness with which they afterwards sought to provoke Him into saying what might serve as ground for a criminal charge. And there is absolutely no evidence that, as commentators suggest, the invitation of the Pharisee had been hypocritically given, for the purpose of getting up an accusation against Christ. More than this, it seems entirely inconsistent with the unexpressed astonishment of the Pharisee, when he saw Jesus sitting down to food without having first washed hands. Up to that moment, then, it would seem that he had only regarded Him as a celebrated Rabbi, though perhaps one who taught strange things.

But what makes it almost certain, that some time must have elapsed between this and the previous Discourse (or rather that, as we believe, the two events happened in different places), is, that the invitation of the Pharisee was to the morning-meal.’ We know that this took place early, immediately after the return from morning-prayers in the Synagogue. It is, therefore, scarcely conceivable, that all that is recorded in connection with the first Discourse should have occurred before this first meal. On the other hand, it may well have been, that what passed at the Pharisee’s table may have some connection with something that had occurred just before in the Synagogue, for we conjecture that it was the Sabbath-day. We infer this from the circumstance that the invitation was not to the principal meal, which on a Sabbath ‘the Lawyers’ (and, indeed, all householders) would, at least ordinarily, have in their own homes. We can picture to ourselves the scene. The week-day family-meal was simple enough, whether breakfast or dinner – the latter towards evening, although sometimes also in the middle of the day, but always before actual darkness, in order, as it was expressed, that the sight of the dishes by daylight might excite the appetite. The Babylonian Jews were content to make a meal without meat; not so the Palestinians. With the latter the favorite food was young meat: goats, lambs, calves. Beef was not so often used, and still more rarely fowls. Bread was regarded as the mainstay of life, without which no entertainment was considered as a meal. Indeed, in a sense it constituted the meal. For the blessing was spoken over the bread, and this was supposed to cover all the rest of the food that followed, such as the meat, fish or vegetables – in short, all that made up the dinner, but not the dessert. Similarly, the blessing spoken over the wine included all other kinds of drink. Otherwise it would have been necessary to pronounce a separate benediction over each different article eaten or drunk. He who neglected the prescribed benedictions was regarded as if he had eaten of things dedicated to God, since it was written: ‘The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.  Beautiful as this principle is, it degenerated into tedious questions of casuistry. Thus, if one kind of food was eaten as an addition to another, it was settled that the blessing should be spoken only over the principal kind. Again, there are elaborate disputations as to what should be regarded as fruit, and have the corresponding blessing, and how, for example, one blessing should be spoken over the leaves and blossom, and another over the berries of the caper. Indeed, that bush gave rise to a serious controversy between the Schools of Hillel and Shammai. Another series of elaborate discussions arose, as to what blessing should be used when a dish consisted of various ingredients, some the product of the earth, others, like honey, derived from the animal world. Such and similar disquisitions, giving rise to endless argument and controversy, busied the minds of the Pharisees and Scribes.

Let us suppose the guests assembled. To such a morning-meal they would not be summoned by slaves, nor be received in such solemn state as at feasts. First, each would observe, as a religious rite, ‘the washing of hands.’ Next, the head of the house would cut a piece from the whole loaf – on the Sabbath there were two loaves – and speak the blessing. But this, only if the company reclined at table, as at dinner. If they sat, as probably always at the early meal, each would speak the benediction for himself. The same rule applied in regard to the wine. Jewish casuistry had it, that one blessing sufficed for the wine intended as part of the meal. If other wine were brought in during the meal, then each one would have to say the blessing anew over it; if after the meal (as was done on Sabbaths and feast-days, to prolong the feast by drinking), one of the company spoke the benediction for all.

At the entertainment of this Pharisee, as indeed generally, our Lord omitted the prescribed ‘washing of hands’ before the meal. But as this rite was in itself indifferent, He must have had some definite object, which will be explained in the sequel. The externalism of all these practices will best appear from the following account which the Talmud gives of ‘a feast.’ As the guests enter, they sit down on chairs, and water is brought to them, with which they wash one hand. After this the cup is taken, when each speaks the blessing over the wine partaken of before dinner. Presently they all lie down at table. Water is again brought them, with which they now wash both hands, preparatory to the meal, when the blessing is spoken over the bread, and then over the cup, by the chief person at the feast, or else by one selected by way of distinction. The company responded by Amen, always supposing the benediction to have been spoken by an Israelite, not a heathen, slave, nor law-breaker. Nor was it lawful to say it with an unlettered man, although it might be said with a Cuthaean (heretic, or else Samaritan), who was learned. After dinner the crumbs, if any, are carefully gathered – hands are again washed, and he who first had done so leads in the prayer of thanksgiving. The formula in which he is to call on the rest to join him, by repeating the prayers after him, is prescribed, and differs according to the number of those present. The blessing and the thanksgiving are allowed to be said not only in Hebrew, but in any other language.

In regard to the position of the guests, we know that the uppermost seats were occupied by the Rabbis. The Talmud formulates it in this manner: That the worthiest lies down first, on his left side, with his feet stretching back. If there are two ‘cushions’ (divans), the next worthiest reclines above him, at his left hand; if there are three cushions, the third worthiest lies below him who had lain down first (at his right), so that the chief person is in the middle (between the worthiest guest at his left and the less worthy one at his right hand). The water before eating is first handed to the worthiest, and so in regard to the washing after meat. But if a very large number are present, you begin after dinner with the least worthy, till you come to the last five, when the worthiest in the company washes his hands, and the other four after him. The guests being thus arranged, the head of the house, or the chief person at table, speaks the blessing, and then cuts the bread. By some it was not deemed etiquette to begin eating till after he who had said the prayer had done so, but this does not seem to have been the rule among the Palestinian Jews. Then, generally, the bread was dipped into salt, or something salted, etiquette demanding that where there were two they should wait one for the other, but not where there were three or more.

This is not the place to furnish what may be termed a list of menus at Jewish tables. In earlier times the meal was, no doubt, very simple. It became otherwise when intercourse with Rome, Greece, and the East made the people familiar with foreign luxury, while commerce supplied its requirements. Indeed, it would scarcely be possible to enumerate the various articles which seem to have been imported from different, and even distant, countries.

To begin with: The wine was mixed with water, and, indeed, some thought that the benediction should not be pronounced till the water had been added to the wine. According to one statement, two parts, according to another, three parts, of water were to be added to the wine. Various vintages are mentioned: among them a red wine of Saron, and a black wine. Spiced wine was made with honey and pepper. Another mixture, chiefly used for invalids, consisted of old wine, water, and balsam; yet another was ‘wine of myrrh;’ we also read of a wine in which capers had been soaked. To these we should add wine spiced, either with pepper, or with absinthe; and what is described as vinegar, a cooling drink made either of grapes that had not ripened, or of the lees. Besides these, palm-wine was also in use. Of foreign drinks, we read of wine from Ammon, and from the province Asia, the latter a kind of ‘must’ boiled down. Wine in ice came from the Lebanon; a certain kind of vinegar from Idumaea; beer from Media and Babylon; a barley-wine (zyṯos) from Egypt. Finally, we ought to mention Palestinian apple-cider, and the juice of other fruits. If we adopt the rendering of some, even liqueurs were known and used.

Long as this catalogue is, that of the various articles of food, whether native or imported, would occupy a much larger space. Suffice it that, as regarded the various kinds of grain, meat, fish, and fruits, either in their natural state or preserved, it embraced almost everything known to the ancient world. At feasts there was an introductory course, consisting of appetising salted meat, or of some light dish. This was followed by the dinner itself, which finished with dessert (Ap̱iqomon or terugima) consisting of pickled olives, radishes and lettuce, and fruits, among which even preserved ginger from India is mentioned. The most diverse and even strange statements are made as to the healthiness, or the reverse, of certain articles of diet, especially vegetables. Fish was a favorite dish, and never wanting at a Sabbath-meal. It was a saying, that both salt and water should be used at every meal, if health was to be preserved. Condiments, such as mustard or pepper, were to be sparingly used. Very different were the meals of the poor. Locusts – fried in flour or honey, or preserved – required, according to the Talmud, no blessing, since the animal was really among the curses of the land. Eggs were a common article of food, and sold in the shops. Then there was a milk-dish into which people dipped their bread. Others, who were better off, had a soup made of vegetables, especially onions, and meat, while the very poor would satisfy the cravings of hunger with bread and cheese, or bread and fruit, or some vegetables, such as cucumbers, lentils, beans, peas, or onions.

At meals the rules of etiquette were strictly observed, especially as regarded the sages. Indeed, two tractates are added to the Talmud, of which the one describes the general etiquette, the other that of ‘sages,’ and the title of which may be translated by ‘The Way of the World’ (Derekh Erets), being a sort of code of good manners. According to some, it was not good breeding to speak while eating. The learned and most honored occupied not only the chief places, but were sometimes distinguished by a double portion. According to Jewish etiquette, a guest should conform in everything to his host, even though it were unpleasant. Although hospitality was the greatest and most prized social virtue, which, to use a Rabbinic expression, might make every home a sanctuary and every table an altar, an unbidden guest, or a guest who brought another guest, was proverbially an unwelcome apparition. Sometimes, by way of self-righteousness, the poor were brought in, and the best part of the meal ostentatiously given to them. At ordinary entertainments, people were to help themselves. It was not considered good manners to drink as soon as you were asked, but you ought to hold the cup for a little in your hand. But it would be the height of rudeness, either to wipe the plates, to scrape together the bread, as though you had not had enough to eat, or to drop it, to the inconvenience of your neighbour. If a piece were taken out of a dish, it must of course not be put back; still less must you offer from your cup or plate to your neighbour. From the almost religious value attaching to bread, we scarcely wonder that these rules were laid down: not to steady a cup or plate upon bread, nor to throw away bread, and that after dinner the bread was to be carefully swept together. Otherwise, it was thought, demons would sit upon it. The ‘Way of the World’ for Sages, lays down these as the marks of a Rabbi: that he does not eat standing; that he does not lick his fingers; that he sits down only beside his equals – in fact, many regarded it as wrong to eat with the unlearned; that he begins cutting the bread where it is best baked, nor ever breaks off a bit with his hand; and that, when drinking, he turns away his face from the company. Another saying was that the sage was known by four things: at his cups, in money matters, when angry, and in his jokes. After dinner, the formalities concerning handwashing and prayer, already described, were gone through, and then frequently aromatic spices burnt, over which a special benediction was pronounced. We have only to add, that on Sabbaths it was deemed a religious duty to have three meals, and to procure the best that money could obtain, even though one were to save and fast for it all the week. Lastly, it was regarded as a special obligation and honor to entertain sages.

We have no difficulty now in understanding what passed at the table of the Pharisee. When the water for purification was presented to Him, Jesus would either refuse it; or if, as seems more likely at a morning-meal, each guest repaired by himself for the prescribed purification, He would omit to do so, and sit down to meat without this formality. No one, who knows the stress which Pharisaism laid on this rite would argue that Jesus might have conformed to the practice. Indeed, the controversy was long and bitter between the Schools of Shammai and Hillel, on such a point as whether the hands were to be washed before the cup was filled with wine, or after that, and where the towel was to be deposited. With such things the most serious ritual inferences were connected on both sides. A religion which spent its energy on such trivialities must have lowered the moral tone. All the more that Jesus insisted so earnestly, as the substance of His Teaching, on that corruption of our nature which Judaism ignored, and on that spiritual purification which was needful for the reception of His doctrine, would He publicly and openly set aside ordinances of man which diverted thoughts of purity into questions of the most childish character. On the other hand, we can also understand what bitter thoughts must have filled the mind of the Pharisee, whose guest Jesus was, when he observed His neglect of the cherished rite. It was an insult to himself, a defiance of Jewish Law, a revolt against the most cherished traditions of the Synagogue. Remembering that a Pharisee ought not to sit down to a meal with such, he might feel that he should not have asked Jesus to his table. All this, as well as the terrible contrast between the punctiliousness of Pharisaism in outward purifications, and the inward defilement which it never sought to remove, must have lain open before Him Who read the inmost secrets of the heart, and kindled His holy wrath. Probably taking occasion (as previously suggested) from something that had passed before, He spoke with the point and emphasis which a last appeal to Pharisaism demanded.

What our Lord said on this occasion will be considered in detail in another place. Suffice it hear to mark, that He first exposed the mere externalism of the Pharisaic law of purification, to the utter ignoring of the higher need of inward purity, which lay at the foundation of all. If the primary origin of the ordinance was to prevent the eating of sacred offerings in defilement, were these outward offerings not a symbol of the inward sacrifice, and was there not an inward defilement as well as the outward? To consecrate what we had to God in His poor, instead of selfishly enjoying it, would not, indeed, be a purification of them (for such was not needed), but it would, in the truest sense, be to eat God’s offerings in cleanness. We mark here a progress and a development, as compared with the former occasion when Jesus had publicly spoken on the same subject. Formerly, He had treated the ordinance of the Elders as a matter not binding; now, He showed how this externalism militated against thoughts of the internal and spiritual. Formerly, He had shown how traditionalism came into conflict with the written Law of God: now, how it superseded the first principles which underlay that Law. Formerly, He had laid down the principle that defilement came not from without inwards, but from within outwards; now, He unfolded this highest principle that higher consecration imparted purity.

The same principle, indeed, would apply to other things, such as to the Rabbinic law of tithing. At the same time it may have been, as already suggested, that something which had previously taken place, or was the subject of conversation at table, had given occasion for the further remarks of Christ. Thus, the Pharisee may have wished to convey his rebuke of Christ by referring to the subject of tithing. And such covert mode of rebuking was very common among the Jews. It was regarded as utterly defiling to eat of that which had not been tithed. Indeed, the three distinctions of a Pharisee were: not to make use nor to partake of anything that had not been tithed; to observe the laws of purification; and, as a consequence of these two, to abstain from familiar intercourse with all non-Pharisees. This separation formed the ground of their claim to distinction. It will be noticed that it is exactly to these three things our Lord adverts: so that these sayings of His are not, as might seem, unconnected, but in the strictest internal relationship. Our Lord shows how Pharisaism, as regarded the outer, was connected with the opposite tendency as regarded the inner man: outward purification with ignorance of the need of that inward purity, which consisted in God-consecration, and with the neglect of it; strictness of outward tithing with ignorance and neglect of the principle which underlay it, viz., the acknowledgment of God’s right over mind and heart (judgment and the love of God); while, lastly, the Pharisaic pretence of separation, and consequent claim to distinction, issued only in pride and self-assertion. Thus, tried by its own tests, Pharisaism terribly failed. It was hypocrisy, although that word was not mentioned till afterwards;  and that both negatively and positively: the concealment of what it was, and the pretension to what it was not. And the Pharisaism which pretended to the highest purity, was, really, the greatest impurity – the defilement of graves, only covered up, not to be seen of men!

It was at this point that one of ‘the Scribes’ at table broke in. Remembering in what contempt some of the learned held the ignorant bigotry of the Pharisees, we can understand that he might have listened with secret enjoyment to denunciations of their ‘folly.’ As the common saying had it, ‘the silly pietist,’ ‘a woman Pharisee,’ and the (self-inflicted) ‘blows of Pharisaism,’ were among the plagues of life. And we cannot help feeling, that there is sometimes a touch of quiet humour in the accounts which the Rabbis give of the encounters between the Pharisees and their opponents. But, as the Scribe rightly remarked, by attacking, not merely their practice, but their principles, the whole system of traditionalism, which they represented, was condemned. And so the Lord assuredly meant it. The ‘Scribes’ were the exponents of the traditional law those who bound and loosed in Israel. They did bind on heavy burdens, but they never loosed one; all those grievous burdens of traditionalism they laid on the poor people, but not the slightest effort did they make to remove any of them. Tradition, yes! the very profession of it bore witness against them. Tradition, the ordinances that had come down – they would not reform nor put aside anything, but claim and proclaim all that had come down from the fathers as a sacred inheritance to which they clung. So be it! let them be judged by their own words. The fathers had murdered the prophets, and they built their sepulchres; that, also, was a tradition – that of guilt which would be avenged. Tradition, learning, exclusiveness – alas! it was only taking away from the poor the key of knowledge; and while they themselves entered not by ‘the door’ into the Kingdom, they hindered those who would have gone in. And truly so did they prove that theirs was the inheritance, the ‘tradition,’ of guilt in hindering and banishing the Divine teaching of old, and murdering its Divine messengers.

There was a terrible truth and solemnity in what Jesus spake, and in the Woe which He denounced on them. The history of the next few months would bear witness how truly they had taken upon them this tradition of guilt; and all the after-history of Israel shows how fully this ‘Woe’ has come upon them. But, after such denunciations, the entertainment in the Pharisee’s house must have been broken up. The Christ was too terribly in earnest – too mournfully so over those whom they hindered from entering the Kingdom, to bear with the awful guilt of their trivialities. With what feelings they parted from Him, appears from the sequel.

‘And when He was come out from thence, the Scribes and the Pharisees began to press upon Him vehemently, and to provoke Him to speak of many things; laying wait for Him, to catch something out of His Mouth.’

(Luk 12:1-13:17)

The record of Christ’s last warning to the Pharisees, and of the feelings of murderous hate which it called forth, is followed by a summary of Christ’s teaching to His disciples. The tone is still that of warning, but entirely different from that to the Pharisees. It is a warning of sin that threatened, not of judgment that awaited; it was for prevention, not in denunciation. That such warnings were most seasonable, requires scarcely proof. They were prompted by circumstances around. The same teaching, because prompted by the same causes, had been mostly delivered, also, on other occasions. Yet there are notable, though seemingly slight, divergences, accounted for by the difference of the writers or of the circumstances, and which mark the independence of the narratives.

1. The first of these Discourses naturally connects itself with what had passed at the Pharisee’s table, an account of which must soon have spread. Although the Lord is reported as having addressed the same language chiefly to the Twelve when sending them on their first Mission  we shall presently mark several characteristic variations. The address – or so much of it as is reported, probably only its summary – is introduced by the following notice of the circumstances: ‘In the mean time, when the many thousands of the people were gathered together, so that they trode upon each other, He began to say to His disciples: “First [above all, בתחלה], beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.”’ There is no need to point out the connection between this warning and the denunciation of Pharisaism and traditionalism at the Pharisee’s table. Although the word ‘hypocrisy’ had not been spoken there, it was the sum and substance of His contention, that Pharisaism, while pretending to what it was not, concealed what it was. And it was this which, like ‘leaven,’ pervaded the whole system of Pharisaism. Not that as individuals they were all hypocrites, but that the system was hypocrisy. And here it is characteristic of Pharisaism, that Rabbinic Hebrew has not even a word equivalent to the term ‘hypocrisy.’ The only expression used refers either to flattery of, or pretence before men, not to that unconscious hypocrisy towards God which our Lord so truly describes as ‘the leaven’ that pervaded all the Pharisees said and did. It is against this that He warned His disciples – and in this, rather than conscious deception, pretence, or flattery, lies the danger of the Church. Our common term, ‘unreality,’ but partially describes it. Its full meaning can only be gathered from Christ’s teaching. But what precise term He may have used, it is impossible to suggest.

After all, hypocrisy was only self-deception. ‘But, there is nothing covered that shall not be revealed.’ Hence, what they had said in the darkness would be revealed, and what they had spoken about in the store-rooms would be proclaimed on the housetops. Nor should fear influence them. Fear of whom? Man could only kill the body, but God held body and soul. And, as fear was foolish, so was it needless in view of that wondrous Providence which watched over even the meanest of God’s creatures. Rather let them, in the impending struggle with the powers of this world, rise to consciousness of its full import – how earth’s voices would find their echo in heaven. And then this contest, what was it! Not only opposition to Christ, but, in it inmost essence, blasphemy against the Holy Ghost. Therefore, to succumb in that contest, implied the deepest spiritual danger. Nay, but let them not be apprehensive; their acknowledgment would be not only in the future; even now, in the hour of their danger, would the Holy Ghost help them, and give them an answer before their accusers and judges, whoever they might be – Jews or Gentiles. Thus, if they fell victims, it would be with the knowledge – not by neglect – of their Father; here, there, everywhere – in their own hearts, before the Angels, before men, would He give testimony for those who were His witnesses.

Before proceeding, we briefly mark the differences between this and the previous kindred address of Christ, when sending the Apostles on their Mission. There (after certain personal directions), the Discourse began with what it here closes. There it was in the form of warning prediction, here in that of comforting reassurance; there it was near the beginning, here near the close, of His Ministry. Again, as addressed to the Twelve on their Mission, it was followed by personal directions and consolations, and then, transition was made to the admonition to dismiss fear, and to speak out publicly what had been told them privately. On the other hand, when addressing His Peraean disciples, while the same admonition is given, and partly on the same grounds, yet, as spoken to disciples rather than to preachers, the reference to the similarity of their fate with that of Christ is omitted, while, to show the real character of the struggle, an admonition is added, which in His Galilean Ministry was given in another connection. Lastly, whereas the Twelve were admonished not to fear, and, therefore, to speak openly what they had learned privately, the Peraean disciples are forewarned that, although what they had spoken together in secret would be dragged into the light of greatest publicity, yet they were not to be afraid of the possible consequences to themselves.

2. The second Discourse recorded in this connection was occasioned by a request for judicial interposition on the part of Christ. This He answered by a Parable,  which will be explained in conjunction with the other Parables of that period. The outcome of this Parable, as to the utter uncertainty of this life, and the consequent folly of being so careful for this world while neglectful of God, led Him to make warning application to His Peraean disciples. Only here the negative injunction that preceded the Parable, ‘beware of covetousness,’ is, when addressed to ‘the disciples,’ carried back to its positive underlying principle: to dismiss all anxiety, even for the necessaries of life, learning from the birds and the flowers to have absolute faith and trust in God, and to labour for only one thing – the Kingdom of God. But, even in this, they were not to be careful, but to have absolute faith and trust in their Father, ‘Who was well pleased to give’ them ‘the Kingdom.

With but slight variations the Lord had used the same language, even as the same admonition had been needed, at the beginning of His Galilean Ministry, in the Sermon on the Mount. Perhaps we may here, also, regard the allusion to the springing flowers as a mark of time. Only, whereas in Galilee this would mark the beginning of spring, it would, in the more favoured climate of certain parts of Peraea, indicate the beginning of December, about the time of the Feast of the Dedication of the Temple. More important, perhaps, is it to note, that the expression rendered in the Authorised and Revised Versions, ‘neither be ye of doubtful mind,’ really means, ‘neither be ye uplifted,’ in the sense of not aiming, or seeking after great things. This rendering of the Greek word (μετεωρίζειν) is in accordance with its uniform use in the LXX., and in the Apocrypha; while, on the other hand, it occurs in Josephus and derekh Ereṣ, in the sense of ‘being of a doubtful mind.’ But the context here shows, that the term must refer to the disciples coveting great things, since only to this the remark could apply, that the Gentile world sought such things, but that our Father knew what was really needful for us.

Of deepest importance is the final consolation, to dismiss all care and anxiety, since the Father was pleased to give to this ‘little flock’ the Kingdom. The expression ‘flock’ carries us back to the language which Jesus had held ere parting from Jerusalem. Henceforth this designation would mark His people. Even its occurrence fixes this Discourse as not a repetition of that which Matthew had formerly reported, but as spoken after the Jerusalem visit. It designates Christ’s people in distinction to their ecclesiastical (or outward) organisation in a ‘fold,’ and marks alike their individuality and their conjunction, their need and dependence, and their relation to Him as the ‘Good Shepherd.’ Small and despised though it be in the eyes of men, ‘the little flock’ is unspeakably noble, and rich in the gift of the Father.

These admonitions, alike as against covetousness, and as to absolute trust and a self-surrender to God, which would count all loss for the Kingdom, are finally set forth, alike in their present application and their ultimate and permanent principle, in what we regard as the concluding part of this Discourse. Its first sentence: ‘Sell that ye have, and give alms,’ which is only recorded by Luke, indicates not a general principle, but its application to that particular period, when the faithful disciple required to follow the Lord, unencumbered by worldly cares or possessions. The general principle underlying it is that expressed by Paul, and finally resolves itself into this: that the Christian should have as not holding, and use what he has not for self nor sin, but for necessity. This conclusion of Christ’s Discourse, also, confirms the inference that it was delivered near the terrible time of the end. Most seasonable would be here the repetition – though in slightly different language – of an admonition, given in the beginning of Christ’s Galilean Ministry, to provide treasure in heaven, which could neither fail nor be taken away, for, assuredly, where the treasure was, there also would the heart be.

3. Closely connected with, and yet quite distinct from, the previous Discourse is that about the waiting attitude of the disciples in regard to their Master. Wholly detached from the things of the world, their hearts set on the Kingdom, only one thing should seem worthy their whole attention, and engage all their thoughts and energies: their Master! He was away at some joyous feast, and the uncertainty of the hour of His return must not lead the servants to indulge in surfeiting, nor to lie down in idleness, but to be faithful to their trust, and eagerly expectant of their Master. The Discourse itself consists of three parts and a practical application.

1. The Disciples as Servants in the absence of their Master: their duty and their reward. This part, containing what would be so needful to these Peraean disciples, is peculiar to Luke. The Master is supposed to be absent, at a wedding – a figure which must not be closely pressed, not being one of the essentials in the Parable. At most, it points to a joyous occasion, and its mention may chiefly indicate that such a feast might be protracted, so that the exact time of the Master’s return could not be known to the servants who waited at home. In these circumstances, they should hold themselves in readiness, that, whatever hour it might be, they should be able to open the door at the first knocking. Such eagerness and devotion of service would naturally meet its reward, and the Master would, in turn, consult the comfort of those who had not allowed themselves their evening-meal, nor lain down, but watched for His return. Hungry and weary as they were from their zeal for Him, He would now, in turn, minister to their personal comfort. And this applied to servants who so watched – it mattered not how long, whether into the second or the third of the watches into which the night was divided.

The ‘Parable’ now passes into another aspect of the case, which is again referred to in the last Discourses of Christ. Conversely – suppose the other case, of people sleeping: the house might be broken into. Of course, if one had known the hour when the thief would come, sleep would not have been indulged in; but it is just this uncertainty and suddenness – and the Coming of the Christ into His Kingdom would be equally sudden – which should keep the people in the house ever on their watch till Christ came.

It was at this particular point that a question of Peter interrupted the Discourse of Christ. To whom did this ‘Parable’ apply about ‘the good man’ and ‘the servants’ who were to watch: to the Apostles, or also to all? From the implied – for it is not an express – answer of the Lord, we infer, that Peter expected some difference between the Apostles and the rest of the disciples, whether as regarded the attitude of the servants that waited, or the reward. From the words of Christ the former seems the more likely. We can understand how Peter might entertain the Jewish notion, that the Apostles would come with the Master from the marriage-supper, rather than wait for His return, and work while waiting. It is to this that the reply of Christ refers. If the Apostles or others are rulers, it is as stewards, and their reward of faithful and wise stewardship will be advance to higher administration. But as stewards they are servants – servants of Christ, and ministering servants in regard to the other and general servants. What becomes them in this twofold capacity is faithfulness to the absent, yet ever near, Lord, and to their work, avoiding, on the one hand, the masterfulness of pride and of harshness, and, on the other, the self-degradation of conformity to evil manners, either of which would entail sudden and condign punishment in the sudden and righteous reckoning at His appearing. The ‘Parable,’ therefore, alike as to the waiting and the reckoning, applied to work for Christ, as well as to personal relationship towards Him.

Thus far this solemn warning would naturally be afterwards repeated in Christ’s Last Discourses in Judaea, as equally needful, in view of His near departure. But in this Peraean Discourse, as reported by Luke, there now follows what must be regarded, not, indeed, as a further answer to Peter’s inquiry, but as specifically referring to the general question of the relation between special work and general discipleship which had been raised. For, in one sense, all disciples are servants, not only to wait, but to work. As regarded those who, like the professed stewards or labourers, knew their work, but neither ‘made ready,’ nor did according to His Will, their punishment and loss (where the illustrative figure of ‘many’ and ‘few stripes’ must not be too closely pressed) would naturally be greater than that of them who knew not – though this also involves guilt – that their Lord had any will towards them, that is, any work for them. This, according to a well-understood principle, universally, almost instinctively, acted upon among men.

2. In the absence of their master! A period this of work, as well as of waiting; a period of trial also. Here, also, the two opening verses, in their evident connection with the subject-matter under the first head of this Discourse, but especially with the closing sentences about work for the Master, are peculiar to Luke’s narrative, and fit only into it. The Church had a work to do in His absence – the work for which He had come. He ‘came to cast fire on earth,’ – that fire which was kindled when the Risen Saviour sent the Holy Ghost, and of which the tongues of fire were the symbol. Oh, how He longed, that it were already kindled! But between Him and it lay the cold flood of His Passion, the terrible Passion in which He was to be baptized. Oh, how He felt the burden of that coming agony! That fire must they spread: this was the work in which, as disciples, each one must take part. Again, in that Baptismal Agony of His they also must be prepared to share. It was fire: burning up, as well as purifying and giving light. And here it was in place to repeat to His Peraean disciples the prediction already addressed to the Twelve when going on their Mission, as to the certain and necessary trials connected with carrying ‘the fire’ which Christ had cast on earth, even to the burning up of the closest bonds of association and kinship.

3. Thus far to the disciples. And now for its application to ‘the multitudes’ – although here also He could only repeat what on a former occasion He had said to the Pharisees. Let them not think that all this only concerned the disciples. No; it was a question between Israel and their Messiah, and the struggle would involve the widest consequences, alike to the people and the Sanctuary. Were they so blinded as not ‘to know how to interpret the time?’ Could they not read its signs – they who had no difficulty in interpreting it when a cloud rose from the sea, or the sirocco blew from the south? Why then – and here Luke is again alone in his report – did they not, in the circumstances, of themselves judge what was right and fitting and necessary, in view of the gathering tempest?

What was it? Even what he had told them before in Galilee, for the circumstances were the same. What common sense and common prudence would dictate to every one whom his accuser or creditor haled before the magistrate: to come to an agreement with him before it was too late, before sentence had been pronounced and executed. Although the illustration must not be pressed as to details, its general meaning would be the more readily understood that there was a similar Rabbinic proverb, although with very different practical application.

4. Besides these Discourses, two events are recorded before Christ’s departure to the ‘Feast of the Dedication.’ Each of these led to a brief Discourse, ending in a Parable.

The first records two circumstances not mentioned by the Jewish historian Josephus, nor in any other historical notice of the time, either by Rabbinic or other writers. This shows, on the one hand, how terribly common such events must have been, when they could be so generally emitted from the long catalogue of Pilate’s misdeeds towards the Jews. On the other hand it also evidences that the narrative of Luke was derived from independent, authentic sources – in other words, the historical character of his narrative – when he could refer as well known to facts, which are not mentioned in any other record of the times; and, lastly, that we are not warranted in rejecting a notice, simply because we find no other mention of it than on the pages of the Third Gospel.

It appears that, just then, or quite soon afterwards, some persons told Christ about a number of His own Galileans, whom Pilate had ordered to be cut down, as we infer, in the Temple, while engaged in offering their sacrifices, so that, in the pictorial language of the East, their blood had mingled with that of their sacrifices. Clearly, their narration of this event must be connected with the preceding Discourse of Jesus. He had asked them, whether they could not discern the signs of the terrible national storm that was nearing. And it was in reference to this, as we judge, that they repeated this story. To understand their object, we must attend to the answer of Christ. It is intended to refute the idea, that these Galileans had in this been visited by a special punishment of some special sin against God. Two questions here arise. Since between Christ’s visit to Jerusalem at the Feast of Tabernacles and that at the Dedication of the Temple no Festival took place, it is most probable that this event had happened before Christ’s visit to Jerusalem. But in that case it seems most likely – almost certain – that Christ had heard of it before. If so, or, at any rate, if it was not quite a recent event, why did these men tell Him of it then and there? Again, it seems strange that, although the Jews connected special sins with special punishments, they should have regarded it as the Divine punishment of a special sin to have been martyred by a Pilate in the Temple, while engaged in offering sacrifices.

All this becomes quite plain, if we regard these men as trying to turn the edge of Jesus’ warning by a kind of ‘Tu quoque’ argument. Very probably these Galileans were thus ruthlessly murdered, because of their real or suspected connection with the Nationalist movement, of which Galilee was the focus. It is as if these Jews had said to Jesus: Yes, signs of the times and of the coming storm! These Galileans of yours, your own countrymen, involved in a kind of Pseudo-Messianic movement, a kind of ‘signs of the times’ rising, something like that towards which you want us to look – was not their death a condign punishment? This latter inference they did not express in words, but implied in their narration of the fact. But the Lord read their thoughts and refuted their reasoning. For this purpose He adduced another instance, when a tower at the Siloam-Pool had fallen on eighteen persons and killed them, perhaps in connection with that construction of an aqueduct into Jerusalem by Pilate, which called forth, on the part of the Jews, the violent opposition, which the Roman so terribly avenged. As good Jews, they would probably think that the fall of the tower, which had buried in its ruins these eighteen persons, who were perhaps engaged in the building of that cursed structure, was a just judgment of God! For Pilate had used for it the sacred money which had been devoted to Temple-purposes (the qorban), and many there were who perished in the tumult caused by the Jewish resistance to this act of profanation. But Christ argued, that it was as wrong to infer that Divine-judgment had overtaken His Galilean countrymen, as it would be to judge that the Tower of Siloam had fallen to punish these Jerusalemites. Not one party only, nor another; not the supposed Messianic tendency (in the shape of a national rising), nor, on the other hand, the opposite direction of absolute submission to Roman domination, was in fault. The whole nation was guilty; and the coming storm, to the signs of which He had pointed, would destroy all unless there were spiritual repentance on the part of the nation. And yet wider than this, and applying to all time, is the underlying principle, that, when a calamity befalls a district or an aggregation of individuals, we ought not to take to ourselves judgment as to its special causation, but to think spiritually of its general application – not so much seek to trace what is the character of its connection with a district or individuals, as to learn its lessons and to regard them as a call addressed to all. And conversely, also, this holds true in regard to deliverances.

Having thus answered the implied objection, the Lord next showed, in the Parable of the Fig-tree, the need and urgency of national repentance.

The second event recorded by Luke in this connection recalls the incidents of the early Judaean and of the Galilean Ministry. We observe the same narrow views and externalism as before in regard to the Sabbath on the part of the Jewish authorities, and, on the part of Christ, the same wide principles and spiritual application. If we were in search of evidence of the Divine Mission of Jesus, we would find it in this contrariety on so fundamental a point, since no teacher in Israel nor Reformer of that time – not the most advanced Sadducee – would have defended, far less originated, the views as to the Sabbath which Christ now propounded. Again, if we were in quest of evidence of the historical truthfulness of the Gospel-narratives, we would find it in a comparison of the narratives of the three Sabbath-controversies: in Jerusalem, in Galilee, and in Peraea. In all the spirit was the same. And, although the differences between them may seem slight, they are characteristic, and mark, as if they pointed to it with the finger, the locality and circumstances in which each took place. In Jerusalem there is neither reasoning nor rebuke on the part of the Jews, but absolute persecution. There also the Lord enters on the higher exposition of His action, motives, and Mission. In Galilee there is questioning, and cunning intrigue against Him on the part of the Judaeans who dogged His steps. But while no violence can be attempted against Him, the people do not venture openly to take His part. But in Peraea we are confronted by the clumsy zeal of a country-Archisynagogos (Chief Ruler of a Synagogue), who is very angry, but not very wise; who admits Christ’s healing power, and does not dare to attack Him directly, but, instead, rebukes, not Christ, not even the woman who had been healed, but the people who witnessed it, at the same time telling them to come for healing on other days, not perceiving, in his narrow-minded bigotry, what this admission implied. This rustic Ruler had not the cunning, nor even the courage, of the Judaean Pharisees in Galilee, whom the Lord had formerly convicted and silenced. Enough, to show this obscure Peraean partisan of Pharisaism and the like of him their utter folly, and that by their own admissions. And presently, not only were His adversaries ashamed, while in Galilee they went out and held a council against Him, but the people were not afraid, as the Galileans had been in presence of their rulers, and openly rejoiced in the glorious working of the Christ.

Little more requires to be added about this incident in ‘one of the Synagogues’ of Peraea. Let us only briefly recall the scene. Among those present in this Synagogue had been a poor woman, who for eighteen years had been a sufferer, as we learn, through demoniac agency. It is quite true that most, if not all, such diseases were connected with moral distemper, since demoniac possession was not permanent, and resistance might have been made in the lucid intervals, if there had been moral soundness. But it is ungrounded to distinguish between the ‘spirit of infirmity’ as the moral and psychical, and her being ‘bent,’ as indicating the physical disease, or even to describe the latter as a ‘permanent curvature of the spine.’ The Greek word here rendered ‘infirmity’ has passed into Rabbinic language (Isteniseyah, איסתניסיה), and there means, not any particular disease, but sickliness, sometimes weakliness. In fact, she was, both physically and morally, not sick, but sickly, and most truly was hers ‘a spirit of infirmity,’ so that ‘she was bowed together, and could in no wise lift herself up.’ For, we mark that hers was not demoniac possession at all – and yet, though she had not yielded, she had not effectually resisted, and so she was ‘bound’ by ‘a spirit of infirmity,’ both in body and soul.

We recognise the same ‘spirit of infirmity’ in the circumstances of her healing. When Christ, seeing her – probably a fit symbol of the Peraeans in that Synagogue – called her, she came; when He said unto her, ‘Woman, thou hast been loosed from thy sickliness,’ she was unbound, and yet in her weakliness she answered not, nor straightened herself, till Jesus ‘laid His Hands on her,’ and so strengthened her in body and soul, and then she was immediately made straight, and glorified God.’

As for the Archisynagogos, we have, as already hinted, such characteristic portraiture of him that we can almost see him: confused, irresolute, perplexed, and very angry, bustling forward and scolding the people who had done nothing, yet not venturing to silence the woman, now no longer infirm – far less, to reprove the great Rabbi, Who had just done such a ‘glorious thing,’ but speaking at Him through those who had been the astounded eye-witnesses. He was easily and effectually silenced, and all who sympathised with him put to shame. ‘Hypocrites!’ spake the Lord – on your own admissions your practice and your Law condemn your speech. Every one on the Sabbath looseth his ox or ass, and leads him to the watering. The Rabbinic law expressly allowed this, and even to draw the water, provided the vessel were not carried to the animal. If, as you admit, I have the power of ‘loosing’ from the bonds of Satan, and she has been so bound these eighteen years, should she – a daughter of Abraham – not have that done for her which you do for your beasts of burden?

The retort was unanswerable and irresistible; it did what was intended: it covered the adversaries with shame. And the Peraeans in that Synagogue felt also, at least for the time, the blessed freedom which had come to that woman. They took up the echoes of her hymn of praise, and ‘rejoiced for all the glorious things that were done by Him.’ And He answered their joy by rightly directing it – by setting before them ‘the Kingdom,’ which He had come both to preach and to bring, in all its freeness, reality, power, and all-pervading energy, as exhibited in the two Parables of the ‘Mustard-seed’ and ‘the Leaven,’ spoken before in Galilee. These were now repeated, as specially suited to the circumstances: first, to the Miracle they had witnessed; then, to the contention that had passed; and, lastly, to their own state of feeling. And the practical application of these Parables must have been obvious to all.