[ p. 263 ]
MINISTRY AT JERUSALEM
Lk. x. 38-42. Jo. vii. 11-52 (Mt. xi. 28-30), viii. 12-x. 4a Mt xxiii. 37-39 ; Lk. xiii. 34, 35 ; Mt. xi. 25-27 ; Lk. x. 21, 22.
Setting out from Jericho they travelled up the Ascent of Blood, and toward evening they reached the village of Bethany, lying within two miles of Jerusalem on the eastern side of the crest of Mount Olivet. There with her brother Lazarus and her sister Martha dwelt Mary the Magdalene whom about a year ago the Lord had rescued from her shame in Galilee ; and this being the first occasion since that He had passed that way, He would not pass by the home which His grace had so blessed. At any time He would have received an overflowing welcome; but now it was the Feast of Tabernacles, and that Feast was not merely, as we have seen, a commemoration of the Wilderness Wanderings: it was the Feast of Harvest, and all the week the people kept holiday and expressed their gratitude for the abundance of their corn and wine by kindness to the poor, “eating the fat, and drinking the sweet, and sending portions unto him for whom nothing was prepared, and making great mirth.” (Ex. xxiii. 16; Dt. xvi. 13-15; Neh. vii. 9-18)
On His arrival the sisters were busy at their housewifery. Both alike were overjoyed to see Him, but they showed it in different ways. Martha, the elder and a notable housewife, would entertain Him royally, and she set to work dressing a grand supper; but Mary, [ p. 264 ] oblivious of all save her dear Saviour’s presence, seated herself at His feet, those sacred feet which she had anointed with her precious nard and bedewed with her warm tears in the banquet-hall of Simon the Pharisee. There she sat listening to His gracious words and taking no part in the preparation of the good cheer and the spreading of the table. It annoyed Martha, all the more that, after a woman’s fashion, she was disposed to be somewhat hard upon her erring sister ; and at last she lost patience. Heated and flustered, she broke in upon the conversation. “Lord,” she cried, “do you not care that my sister has been leaving me alone to serve ? Bid her lend me a helping hand.” He surveyed her with kindly amusement. “Martha, Martha,” said He, glancing at the array of savoury dishes wherewith she was loading the table, “you are in a fret and stir about many things ; but a few are all we need—or rather just one ; for,” He added, alluding to the benefactions of that hospitable season, “Mary has chosen the good ‘portion,’ which will not be taken away from her.” (Pr. xv. 17 R.V. marg.) It was a gentle rendering of the ancient proverb : “Better a portion of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.”
Next day the Lord proceeded from Bethany to Jerusalem. It was at once embarrassing and dangerous for Him to present Himself then in the Holy City. For He had intimated to His “brethren” at Nazareth that He would not attend the Feast of Tabernacles; nor did He mean to attend it. His design was to travel slowly, preaching as He went ; but it had been frustrated by the hostility of the Samaritans, and thus He arrived at Jerusalem earlier [ p. 265 ] than He anticipated—“in the middle of the Feast,” that is, since the celebration lasted a week, the fourth day, being the 26th of September since the Feast began that year on the 23rd. It would seem to His brethren that He had broken His word, and they would be quick to censure Him. Nor was this all. The rulers were meditating His destruction. It was some eighteen months since last He had visited the Holy City ; and on His going thither then they regarded Him, on the report of their emissaries in Galilee, as liable to two charges—Sabbath-breaking and blasphemy—both which He had presently established, in their judgment, by His healing of the paralytic at Bethesda on the Sabbath Day and His subsequent defence. They had then attempted His arraignment on those capital charges, and He had escaped only by quitting the city and returning to Galilee. Their hostility had increased during the eighteen months which had since elapsed. It had deterred Him from attending the Passover that spring, and it confronted Him now when He appeared in their midst. (Cf. Jo. v. 18; Cf. Jo. vii. 1)
They would have promptly arrested Him and sentenced Him to death, but they were restrained by a prudential consideration. It was this—that His popularity had been growing all the while. He was the hero of the multitude, and they perceived that, if they meddled with Him, they would occasion a tumult. It was true that opinion regarding Him was divided in Jerusalem where He was less known than in Galilee ; but even there His fame had engaged the general sympathy, and the very fact that opinion was divided would aggravate the trouble by ranging the citizens in mutual antagonism.
[ p. 266 ]
Such was the situation which faced Him on His arrival. Recognising its difficulty, He shunned need less provocation, yet He would not shirk His mission (Cf. Jo. vii. 10). He betook Himself to the court of the Temple and there addressed the assembled crowd. The rulers—“the Jews,” as St. John styles them— were jealously watching Him, and even they were impressed by His discourse, so gracious and wise. “How,” was their comment, “is this fellow so learned, uneducated as He is ?” Meant as a sneer, it was an involuntary tribute ; and He answered it by telling them that the quality of His message proved His divine mission, and if they would only put it to the test, they would be persuaded of His claim. “My teaching is not Mine but His who sent Me. If any one has the will to do His will, he will discover regarding My teaching whether it is of God or just My own talk.” It was a challenge to adopt toward His message the attitude which is the condition of proficiency in every domain of human attainment. “Do not think : try,” was the customary counsel of a distinguished master of medical science to his students. And similar was Rembrandt’s to his pupil Hoogstraten : “Try to put well in practice what you already know. In doing so you will, in good time, discover the hidden things which you now inquire about.” And even so our Lord told His critics that it was useless to argue about His claims. Let them bring these to the test of experience and consider them in the light of Holy Scripture, and they would recognise Him as indeed the Promised Saviour. His claims were attested by their sacred Law, and yet for advancing these they were seeking to kill Him.
[ p. 267 ]
Most of the crowd were strangers from afar, ignorant of the rulers’ fatal design. “You are mad !” they cried. “Who is seeking to kill you ? ” He answered by recalling how He had been assailed for healing the paralytic last time He visited the city. The offence of the miracle was that it had been wrought on the Sabbath Day ; and was it not unreasonable ? A child born on the Sabbath was circumcised on the Sabbath following, since the Law required him to be circumcised “on the eighth day.” They violated the Sabbath-law to keep the law of circumcision (Cf. Gen. xvii. 12; Lev. xii. 3); and if the infliction of a wound on an infant’s flesh was allowable on the Sabbath, much more, surely, was the healing of a man’s body.
It was no secret in Jerusalem that the rulers had resolved to put Him to death, and it surprised the citizens who were present that no movement was made to arrest Him. Several of them were standing by and discussing what it meant. ” Is not this,” said one, “the man whom they are seeking to kill ? and see ! he is talking boldly and they are saying nothing to him.” “Can it be,” suggested another, “that the rulers have indeed perceived that this is the Christ ? ” rf Nay,” answered a third, “we know whence this man is, but when the Christ comes, no one perceives whence He is.” Here is a characteristic example of that Rabbinical argumentation which so delighted the men of Jerusalem and too often blinded them to our Lord’s claims (Cf. Mal. iii. 1; Mic. v. 2; cf. Mt. ii. 4-6). It was diversely foretold that the Messiah’s advent would be a sudden surprise and that He would be born in Bethlehem, the city of David ; and the Rabbis hence inferred that even as His prototype Moses had been carried away [ p. 268 ] into exile in the land of Midian and had then reappeared unexpectedly as his people’s champion, so He would appear suddenly and mysteriously, none knew whence. And so it was a Jewish proverb that there are three things which present themselves unexpectedly—a treasure-trove, a scorpion by the path, and the Messiah. It was this idea that seemed to that theologically minded man of Jerusalem to rule out the suggestion that Jesus might be the Messiah. He was a Galilean, as every one knew; and when the Messiah came, no one would perceive whence He was.
This ended the rencontre. It was all very galling to the rulers. They would fain have arrested Him had they dared, but He was fortified by the popular sympathy and they retired in impotent malice. It exasperated them the more that many of the people were won to faith and confessed themselves His disciples. This naturally came to the knowledge of the Pharisees, the leaders of the popular party, and on their report a meeting of the Sanhedrin was convened, probably for the following morning. It was decided that immediate action should be taken, and the officers of the court were commissioned to effect His arrest. It proved no easy task ; for they found Him surrounded by an eager and sympathetic crowd. They listened to His discourse and returned with a report. One sentence especially had impressed them. “A little wffiile longer,” He had said, “am I with you, and I go away to Him who sent Me. You will seek Me and will not find Me, and where I am, you cannot come.” What could He mean ? It was suggested that perhaps He intended quitting the Holy Land and betaking Himself to the Jewish communities abroad. This would be [ p. 269 ] a happy solution of their embarrassment, and meanwhile their officers were instructed to keep Him in observation.
Thus the days passed. The Feast of Tabernacles lasted a week, but the eighth day was devoted to “an holy convocation” a solemn assembly” (cf. Lev. xxiii. 36; Num. xxix 35); and this was accounted the most important day of all. It was “the great day of the Feast,” and the thoughts of the worshippers were then turned forward. As on the other days they had gratefully rejoiced in the ingathering of the corn and wine, so on the eighth they entreated a continuance of the Lord’s goodness and prayed that in the year to come they might be blessed with rain, that ” gift of God” so precious in the East. In every familiar thing our Lord found a heavenly parable ; and even as He had told the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s Well of ” the living water,” He discoursed in like manner to the crowd in the Temple-court (Cf. Jo. iv. 10-14). “If any one thirsts,” He cried, “let him come to Me and drink. One who believes in Me, streams of living water will flow from his heart.” (Cf Is. xli. 3; xxxii. 2) It was familiar language, and it would recall to His hearers many a gracious passage of their Scriptures. Was it not written : “I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, and streams upon the dry ground ” ? And again: “A man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.” (Cf. Pr. xi. 25) Even so, says our Lord, one who opens his heart to the Holy Spirit’s grace not only has within him an unfailing well-spring but, being watered himself, he waters others like a fountain in the desert. [ p. 270 ] This is but a sentence of His discourse, and it is plain from the impression which it made upon His hearers that He enlarged upon the gracious thought. Perhaps it was here that He spoke that golden word which St. Matthew has preserved as a disconnected fragment (xi. 28-30): “Come to Me, all you who are toiling and burdened, and I will refresh you. Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me, because I am meek and lowly in heart; and you will find refreshment for your souls. For My yoke is kindly and My burden light.” It is the figure of a weary beast toiling with its burden ; and if we would understand it, we must observe that there is a difference between “a yoke” and “a burden.” A yoke was not a burden; on the contrary, it was an instrument, like our horse’s collar, for carrying the burden. And a yoke was generally double. Two oxen were harnessed side by side with the shaft between them, and the yoke was a cross-bar fastened about their necks at either end. There were two ways in which the work might be rendered difficult. One was if the yoke were ill-fitting, so that it chafed the beasts’ necks ; and the other was if they were ill-matched and did not pull together. See then what our Lord means. He does not promise to release us from our burdens; for a burden of some sort is inevitable, and without it life were a poor, idle thing. He does not promise to remove our burdens, but He offers to help us with them. “Have Me,” He says, “for your yoke-fellow. Come into the traces by My side, and take My yoke upon you. Mine is a kindly yoke”—the same word which St. Paul employs when he says: “Love is long-suffering, Love is kind” (1 Cor. xiii. 3; Eph. iv. 32); “Treat one another kindly and tenderly, forgiving each other just [ p. 271 ] as God in Christ forgave you.” “Mine is a kindly yoke, one that fits well and does not chafe ; and I will be a true yoke-fellow. Your burden will be My burden, and with Me beside you it will be light.”
Of course this is figurative language, and what does it mean in literal reality ? In those days “the yoke of the Law” was a common Jewish phrase ; the idea being that the Law was a rule of faith and conduct and by submitting to it a man could rightly discharge the duties of life. But the Law had proved a grievous yoke—“a yoke,” as St. Peter said at the Council of Jerusalem, ” which neither our fathers nor we were able to bear.” (Ac. xv. 10) And so our Lord here tells His hearers of a better yoke, a better rule of faith and conduct, than their old Law. “Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me; and you will find refreshment for your souls.”
His yoke, then, means the rule of faith and conduct which He substituted for the Jewish Law with its oppressive multitude of precepts and prohibitions; and if we ask what this was, we have only to look at His example during the years of His earthly sojourn. There were two principles which regulated His every thought and action ; and these constitute the gracious yoke which He invites us to bear. One was Love ; and when He says “Take My yoke upon you,” He means, in the first instance, “Bring love into your life.” And if we do that, then our lives will be transfigured, and every hard and painful experience will be easy and glad. For, as St. Thomas a Kempis has it, “Love is a great thing, surely a great good, and it alone makes every burdensome thing light. For it carries a burden burdenless, and renders every bitter thing sweet and [ p. 272 ] pleasant to the taste.” His other principle was the Will of God; and it makes a blessed difference when we follow Him here too : when we recognise God’s sovereign purpose and His gracious hand in all our painful and sorrowful experiences, and are persuaded that these are no accidents, but His wise and beneficent appointments, serving high ends which, though hidden now, will one day be discovered, if only we accept them bravely and believingly and let Him have His way, saying with our Lord in His last dread agony : “The cup which my Father has given me, shall I not drink it ?” (Jo. xviii. 11)
What wonder that discourse like this stirred the hearers’ hearts and excited discussion ? Assuredly He was no ordinary personage ; and some suggested that He was the Prophet who, according to Jewish expectation, would appear on the eve of the Messiah’s advent to prepare the nation to receive Him. Others went farther. “This,” they said, “is the Messiah.” Here others demurred : “Why, does the Messiah come from Galilee ? Did not the Scripture say that it is from ‘ the seed of David’ and ‘from Bethlehem,’ the village where David was, that the Messiah comes ?” (Ps. lxxxix. 3,4; Mic. v. 2) In truth their demur was the crowning testimony. For what did it mean ? It meant that in their judgment the evidence of His Messiahship was complete save only in this—that He was, as they supposed, a Galilean, and the Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem. They did not know that He had indeed been born in Bethlehem, and had they known it, their doubt would have vanished and they would gladly have acknowledged Him.
[ p. 273 ]
There were others who bore their testimony. In the crowd which surrounded Him and listened to His discourse were the officers of the Sanhedrin watching their opportunity to arrest Him and convey Him before the high court which was even then convened. In view of the popular sentiment they durst not execute their commission ; nor indeed were they minded to meddle with Him, since their own hearts were touched. They returned to the court without their prisoner, and when it was demanded of them why they had not brought Him, they answered : “Never did man so speak.” It was the Pharisees, as the guardians of orthodoxy, who took the lead in His prosecution ; and they indignantly upbraided the officers. “Have you too been led astray ?” they cried, denouncing it as intolerable insubordination that they should thus disregard their superiors’ mandate and, flouting the judgment of the Doctors of the Law, side with the ignorant rabble.
It was an unseemly outburst, unworthy of that august tribunal, and it elicited a protest from one of the councillors—Nicodemus, the old Pharisee who on that memorable night two and half years ago had interviewed our Lord in His retreat on Mount Olivet. What he then heard had lodged in his heart, and he was already a believer though he had not yet ventured to confess his faith. To confess it now in face of his angry colleagues required more courage than he possessed, but he could not hold his peace. He timidly raised a question of order. A criminal, he pointed out, was entitled to a fair trial and must not be condemned unheard. “Does our law judge the man without first hearing him and ascertaining his offence ?” His [ p. 274 ] protest was unavailing. It merely exposed him to insult. “Are you too from Galilee ?” they sneered. With the Judaeans, so proud of their Holy City, their Temple, their schools, and all their hallowed traditions, Galilee was a byword for boorish ignorance. A prophet from Galilee, forsooth ! The very idea was preposterous. “Search, and see that from Galilee no prophet arises.”
It was on the last day of the Feast that these things happened, and next day the strangers took their departure and the city resumed its normal quietude. Our Lord remained ; for it was not the Feast that had brought Him thither. He had come to make a last appeal to the citizens and their rulers, and now He addresses Himself to this task. It has already appeared how difficult it was. Jerusalem was the sacred capital, the seat of the Temple and the home of Rabbinism ; and it swarmed with Priests and Doctors of the Law who maintained a jealous observance of Him, eager for a pretext to arraign Him. He found always a ready audience in the outer court of the Temple, that place of common resort, and there were always Pharisees and Sadducees standing by as He discoursed, listening critically and at every opportunity interposing some objection, some captious question, in the hope of putting Him to confusion and so discrediting Him with the populace.
One evening He was teaching “at the Treasury”— the thirteen boxes, “the Trumpets” as they were called frorn their shape, which stood in the sacred court for the reception of the worshippers’ contributions (Cf.Mk.xii. 41; Lk. xxi. 1). It was now the month of October when the days were shortening, and [ p. 275 ] after His wont, as the shadows fell and the lamps were kindled, He found there a parable. “The Light” was a Jewish name for the Messiah. “I,” said He, “am the Light of the world. One who follows Me shall not walk in the darkness but will have the light of life.”
Here the Pharisees interposed, quoting the legal maxim that a litigant’s deposition is no evidence. “You are testifying of yourself. Your testimony is not true.” It was a poor quibble, and how did He meet it ? First He told them that it was not a matter of legal evidence at all. He was declaring the tidings which He had brought from the Unseen, that world whence He had come and whither He would soon return. And even as evidence, He added, it was valid. For was there not another legal maxim: “At the mouth of two witnesses shall a matter be established ” ? and His claim had His Father’s corroboration. He meant that His claim was divinely attested by His miracles and the Scriptures ; but they did not understand. “Where,” they asked, “is your father ? ” challenging Him to produce His witness. “If,” He answered, “you had known Me, you would have known My Father too.” He was the Eternal Son of God Incarnate, the Visible Image of the Invisible Father ; and to know Him was to know the Father, to know the Father was to acknowledge Him.
Another day, pleading with them to accept His message ere their opportunity passed, He said : “I am going away, and you will seek Me, and you will die in your sin. Where I am going you cannot come.” His appeal was greeted by the rulers in the audience with [ p. 276 ] derision. “Will he kill himself ?” cried one. They had called Him mad, and now this ribald scoffer suggests that He meant to do away with Himself and go to that darkest Hades whither the Rabbinical theology relegated the souls of suicides. “Will he kill himself ? That is why he says : ‘ Where I am going you cannot come/” It was a coarse gibe, and He scornfully rebuked it. With men who could talk so He had nothing in common : they belonged to different worlds of thought and feeling. “You,” they retorted —“who are you ?” and in utter disgust He exclaimed : “O why am I talking to you at all!” [1] They were hopeless. It was useless to reason with them, but by and by they would recognise, too late, the justice of His claims.
It was a painful encounter, yet good came of it. With that instinct of fairness which always animates a popular assemblage the audience sided with our Lord, and “many,” says the Evangelist, “believed in Him,” meaning that they gave their hearts to Him and confessed themselves His disciples. And more than that: there were some of the rulers who were impressed. They did not “believe in Him” but, says the Evangelist, tersely defining their attitude, they “believed Him,” meaning, in accordance with the Greek usage, that they recognised the truth of His teaching and were disposed to acknowledge His claims. Ashamed of their colleagues’ ribaldry they presently sought an interview with Him, and He readily granted their request. Where was the scene of the interview ? It was within the Temple precincts, but since they would desire privacy, it would hardly be the outer court where the [ p. 277 ] people congregated. The magnificent pile, begun by King Herod some forty-eight years previously, was still incomplete; and it would appear from the cf. Jo. ii. sequel that they met Him in some quarter, 20 * barricaded from general access, where building operations were in progress and fragments of masonry littered the pavement. There after cf.viii. 59working hours they would find seclusion.
The conference began fairly, but it was difficult to reason with minds so obsessed by prejudice, and presently they took offence. “If,” He had said, “you continue in My Word, you will be truly My disciples; and you will learn the truth, and the truth will make you free” ; and in their unspiritual fashion they fancied it a reference to their national bondage. “We are the seed of Abraham,” they exclaimed resentfully, “and have never been enslaved to any.” He quietly explained that it was not national but spiritual freedom that He meant, liberation not from the Roman yoke but from the tyranny of sin. “I know,” said He, “that you are the seed of Abraham ; but,” He added, surveying their angry faces, “you are seeking to kill Me.” And the reason of their enmity was that His message had no place in their hearts—the message which he had brought them from Heaven. “What I have seen with the Father I am telling : do you then what you have heard from the Father.” Here again they missed His reference, not understanding that by “the Father ” He meant God. “Our father,” said they, “is Abraham.” “If,” He retorted, “you are Abraham’s children, do the works of Abraham. As it is, you are seeking to kill Me, a man who has told you the truth—the truth which I heard from God. [ p. 278 ] This is not what Abraham did. Do you the works of your father.” “We are no bastard breed,” they blustered. “We have one Father—God.”
This was a larger claim, and it exposed them to a crushing rejoinder. He had allowed their claim to be children of Abraham, since their descent from the patriarch, the father of their race, was a physical fact. His blood was in their veins, and though they lacked his spirit, they were none the less his seed. But divine sonship was a spiritual relationship, proved by spiritual sympathy ; and this they lacked. “If God had been your Father, you would have loved Me ; for I came forth from God.” Since it is spiritual sympathy that determines spiritual kinship, they were rather children of the Devil; for it was his spirit that animated them in rejecting the truth which the Lord proclaimed and seeking to kill Him.
This enraged them. “Say we not well that you are a Samaritan and are mad ?” With the Rabbis in their pride of learning “a Samaritan” was an opprobrious epithet for an ignorant boor ; and to call Him a Samaritan and a madman was the utmost of vituperation. “I am not mad,” He replied. “No, I honour My Father, and you dishonour Me.” In insulting Him it was God that they were insulting, and God would vindicate His honour. They little dreamed what they were losing. “Verily, verily I tell you, if one keep My Word, he shall never behold death.” “Now,” they cried, “we are sure that you are mad. Abraham died, and the Prophets ; and you say ‘ If one keep My Word, he shall never taste of death * ! Are you greater than our father Abraham and the Prophets ? Whom do you make yourself ?” [ p. 279 ] He answered that the question was not whom He made Himself but who He was on the testimony of God—that God whom they claimed as their own. And on God’s testimony He was the Promised Saviour. “Your father Abraham exulted in the hope of seeing My day ; and he has seen it and rejoiced.” What could He mean ? They scanned Him He was only three and thirty years of age, but His burden had prematurely aged the Man of Sorrows and He looked full ten years older. “You are not yet,” said they, “fifty years of age, and have you seen Abraham ?” “Verily, verily,” He replied, “ere Abraham was born have I been.” This was more than madness : it was blasphemy, and they turned to snatch up fragments of masonry to stone Him to death. But meanwhile He had stolen away and was gone.
The days sped by till two months had elapsed and it was near the Feast of Dedication, which fell on the 25th of the month Chislev (December). It was a busy time with our Lord (2 Macc. x. 1-8); for those controversies in the Temple-court were in no wise His sole employment. He would be engaged all the while in private converse with His disciples, not only the Twelve but His newly won converts who, imbued as they were with Rabbinical lore, had much need of instruction in the ideals of His Kingdom. One Sabbath Day with some of these in His company He was on His way to the Temple. As still in Roman Catholic countries where poverty abounds the approaches to the cathedrals are beset by mendicants appealing to the worshippers for alms (Cf. Ac. iii. 1,2), so was it in Jerusalem of old ; and as they approached the sacred gateway, one suppliant particularly [ p. 280 ] arrested their attention. He was a young man but he was blind, and as a fellow-citizen and an habitue of the spot they knew him well. Not merely was he blind but he had been born blind—a circumstance which presented a problem to their minds, since, as we have seen, it was a Jewish doctrine that suffering was always penal. Had he once had sight, they would have accounted his blindness a judicial visitation ; but he had been born blind, and in such a case two explanations were feasible : either, according to the law of heredity, he was suffering for the sins of his parents or, according to the ancient theory of the pre-existence of the soul, he was suffering for sins which he had himself committed in a previous state (Cf. Ex. xx. 7; Lam. v. 7; Ezk. xviii. 2.). They had often debated the question, and now they submit it to the Master. “Rabbi,” said they, “who sinned—this man or his parents—that he should be born blind ?”
The Lord rejected both alternatives, and told them that there was a deeper reason in human suffering than was dreamed of in their theology—the gracious operation of a providential purpose. The man had been born blind “that the works of God might be manifested in him.” Their shallow theologising was not merely foolish but unfeeling. Why should they vex a sufferer by crude speculation imputing undeserved blame ? Better surely leave the mystery unsolved and minister to his sore need.” We should work God’s works while it is day (Cf. Jo. viii. 12). Soon comes night when none can work.” Sooner than
they thought was it coming—the dark night when He, “the Light of the world,” would be gone.
Therewith He addressed Himself to His task. A [ p. 281 ] word would have given the man sight, but in view of the bitterness of the rulers’ enmity and their recent attempts upon His life He would not by working the miracle so quietly expose Himself to their evasions and misrepresentations. He would make it an open issue, enlisting the popular sympathy. And therefore He set about it in a picturesque and appealing fashion. As we have seen, it was believed in those days that saliva was medicinal, and a plaster of saliva and clay was credited with healing efficacy. So He spat upon the ground and smeared the sightless eyes with the moistened dust. The bystanders witnessed His procedure, but He would gain a larger publicity and He bade the man go and wash his eyes in the Pool of Siloam, situated just within the city wall on the south-eastern side. Some of the bystanders would escort him thither, and the sight of him passing along the streets with his smeared eyes would excite general curiosity, which passed into wonderment when on reaching the Pool and laving his eyes he got his sight.
He hied him home, and his neighbours gathered round him in amazement. They could hardly believe that it was indeed himself and not some one resembling him till he assured them of his identity. “Then how were your eyes opened ?” they asked, and he explained: “The man who is called Jesus made clay and anointed my eyes and bade me ‘Away to Siloam and wash.’ So I went and washed and got my sight.” This alarmed them. Jesus was proscribed by the rulers, and a decree had lately been issued that any one acknowledging His Messiahship would be excommunicated. It was dangerous to have to do with Him, and since there was no foreseeing what might come of [ p. 282 ] this business, it would be prudent for them to report it and thus clear themselves of complicity. “Where is he ?” they demanded ; and when, aware of their purpose, he answered, “I do not know,” they dragged him before the rulers of their synagogue.
Those dignitaries took up the case. “How did you get your sight ?” they inquired, and on hearing the story they consulted together. Some of them pronounced it a violation of the Sabbath, while others represented that one who wrought such miracles could hardly be a sinner; and so they asked the man what he thought of Jesus. “He is a prophet” was the stout reply. His brusquerie offended them, and it occurred to them that he might be an impostor. So they had him removed and, summoning his parents, examined them. “Is this your son ?” they asked. “Yes,” was the reply. “Was he born blind ?” “Yes.” “How then has he now his sight ?” This was a dangerous question, and they declined to compromise themselves. “That we do not know. Ask him. He is of age ; he will tell his own story.”
Their reticence confirmed the Rabbis’ suspicion. and they recalled the lad and, as though they had ascertained his imposture during his absence, sternly called upon him to acknowledge the truth (Cf. Josh. vii. 19.). “Give glory to God,” they said (meaning “make full confession”). “We know that this fellow is a sinner.” “Whether he is a sinner I do not know,” was the answer ; “one thing I do know—that I was blind and now I have sight.” It was a severe checkmate. “What did he do to you ? How did he open your eyes ?” they feebly inquired, exposing themselves to a yet sharper thrust: “I told you already: [ p. 283 ] why do you wish to hear it again ? Do you wish to become his disciples too ?” This was too galling, and they resorted to abuse—that refuge of dull wits : “You are his disciple : we are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses, but this fellow—no one knows whence he is. 9 * “Why,” cried their nimblewitted adversary, pretending astonishment at a confession of ignorance on the part of those wise teachers, “herein is the marvellous thing—that you do not know whence he is, and he has opened my eyes !” Then with superb impudence he read them a homily: “We know that God does not hearken to sinners ; but if any one be devout and do His will, to him He hearkens. From eternity it has not been heard that any one has opened the eyes of one born blind. If ‘ this fellow’ had not been from God, he could have done nothing.”
It was intolerable. “You were wholly born in sins,” they raged, “and you teach us !” And they forthwith excommunicated him.
Our Lord had not done with the blind beggar when He smeared his eyes and sent him to the Pool of Siloam. He kept Himself acquainted with what befell thereafter ; and on hearing of his excommunication He visited the poor quarter of the city where he dwelt and sought him out. “Do you believe,” said He, “in the Son of Man ?” Though not the first time he had met the Lord, it was the first time he had ever seen Him, and he did not recognise Him. “And who is He, sir ?” he asked. “Tell me, that I may believe in Him.” “You have seen Him,” was the answer: “it is He that is talking with you.” Then it dawned upon the man that he was face to face with his Benefactor, and he bowed before Him.
[ p. 284 ]
It was truly strange that, while He was rejected by the wise men, “the teachers of Israel,” a poor darkened soul should thus be brought to a knowledge of His grace (Cf. Jo. iii. 17, viii. 15,16, xii. 47). Though, as He so often declared, He had not come to judge but to save men, yet His very presence in their midst was a searching tribunal, and by their attitude toward Him they passed judgment upon themselves. He felt the solemnity of it. “It was,” He exclaimed, “for judgment that I came into this world, that the sightless may see and the seeing become blind ! ” A crowd had gathered round Him, and among them were some of the Rabbis jealously observing His dealing with the victim of their ecclesiastical censure. They took His words home to themselves. ” Are we, too, blind ? ” they angrily demanded. Ah, just there lay their guilt. They sinned with open eyes. They knew the Scripture, and in face of its testimony they denied His claims. ” If you had been blind, you would have had no sin. As it is, you say ‘ We see ’ : your sin remains.”
Then, turning to the crowd, He made the incident which had happened in their midst the theme of a gracious discourse. The Scriptures of old xxm, loved to speak of God as the Shepherd of His people, and His people as the sheep of His pasture (Cf. Pss. xxiii, lxxiv. 1, lxxx. 1, c. 3; Num. xxvii, 16, 17; Ezk. xxxiv. ; Zech. xi. 3, 17, xiii. 7). And His priests and prophets, whom He ordained to care for the souls of their fellow-men, they called shepherds too. There is no more gracious ideal of the sacred office of the ministry, and none which appealed so movingly to the Jewish heart. For the relation betwixt a Jewish shepherd and his flock was peculiarly [ p. 285 ] tender. In the springtime the shepherds led their flocks out to the Wilderness of Judaea, and there on the lone moorlands where David once tended his father Jesse’s sheep, they tended them all the long summer, leading them forth in the morning to the green pastures by the still waters and gathering them at nightfall in the fold. In the wide solitude his sheep were the shepherd’s sole companions, and betwixt him and them grew up an affectionate intimacy. He knew them all, and he had a name for each, and they would answer to his call. He did not need to drive them. Of a morning when he would take them out to pasture, he stood by the gate of the common fold and “called his own sheep by name, and led them forth.” He did not need to drive them. “He goes in front of them, and the sheep follow him, because they know his voice. But a stranger will they not follow but will flee from him, because they do not know the voice of strangers.”
The Lord sketched this idyllic picture, and then He interpreted the parable to the listening crowd. By their office the Rabbis who had dealt so heartlessly with that poor soul were shepherds of the people; but were they true shepherds ? Were they not liker the robbers who broke into the fold and made the flock their prey ? or at the best like the mere hirelings who thought only of their wage and cared nothing for the sheep ? “I,” said the Lord, “am the Good Shepherd ” or, as the word rather signifies, “the True Shepherd,” the Shepherd who realises the ideal of shepherdhood. And what is the supreme mark of the True Shepherd? (Cf. 1 Sam. xvii. 34-37; Am. iii. 12) Shepherding was a perilous business; for a shepherd had oftentimes to risk his life, now in desperate encounters [ p. 286 ] with savage beasts or robbers, and again in rescuing a lamb swept away by the rushing torrent or seeking a wanderer among the mountain crags. A mere hireling would leave the creature to perish (Cf. Mt. xviii. 12,13; Lk. xv. 3-6). “An hireling who is no shepherd nor the owner of the sheep, beholds the wolf coming, and he leaves the sheep and flees; and the wolf snatches and scatters them. The reason is that he is an hireling and does not care for the sheep.” The mark of a true shepherd is this—that “he lays down his life for the sheep.” “I,” said the Lord, “am the True Shepherd” ; and the proof was that He was facing the malice of His enemies, and would presently lay down His life, a willing sacrifice, for His sheep—not merely the little flock which had already heard His voice and followed Him, but all the others whom He would yet win and gather into His fold at last. (Cf. Lk. xii. 32)
Even the Rabbis were moved, and they talked it over with their colleagues. “He is mad !” said one. “Why do you listen to him ?” And this was the general opinion. But there were some who thought otherwise. “These,” said they, “are not the words of a madman ; and can a madman open blind men’s eyes ?” Thus divided in opinion, they determined to interview Him, and they sought Him—where they were sure to find Him—in the Temple (Cf. 1 Macc. iv. 52-59; 2 Macc. x. 1-8). It was now the Feast of Dedication, the annual commemoration of the purification of the Temple by Judas Maccabaeus after its pollution by Antiochus Epiphanes ; and since the solemnity began on 25th Chislev (December) and lasted eight days, it was midwinter, and they found the Lord not in the [ p. 287 ] open court but in the shelter of the eastern cloister, known as Solomon’s Cloister because it was the sole portion of the ancient Temple which had escaped destruction at the hands of the Assyrian conqueror. Some of them were honestly perplexed, but most of them were hostile and came in the hope of putting Him in the wrong and finding a pretext for taking action against Him. “How long,” they brusquely demanded, “do you keep us in suspense ? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”
Wherefore should He tell them ? He had told them already, and had attested His claim by the works which He had done in His Father’s name; yet they did not believe. And, He adds, reverting to the parable which He had so shortly before spoken in their hearing, and looking round on the little flock of His disciples including His latest convert whom they had so heartlessly banished from their communion, the reason was that they were no sheep of His ; else they would have hearkened to His voice and followed Him. His sheep were safe in His keeping. “No one shall snatch them out of My hand.” What could it seem to those rulers but very madness that He should thus defy their authority ? Marking the sneer on their faces. He added: “My Father who has given them to Me is greater than all, and no one can snatch them out of My Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”
This was worse than madness : it was blasphemy, and it inflamed their fanaticism. Had there been missiles at hand, they would forthwith have pelted Him to death ; but there were no loose stones on the pavement of the Cloister. They bethought themselves [ p. 288 ] of the litter of masonry hard by, and rushing thither they, says the Evangelist, “fetched stones that they might stone Him.” (Jo. x. 31) Even so brief a delay time for reflection, and on regaining the Cloister they hesitated. “Many works have I shown you,” said He, “good works of the Father’s doing : for which of them are you stoning Me ?” “It is not for a good work,” they answered, “that we are stoning you, but for blasphemy and because you, being a man, make yourself God.” To reason with them of His high claim would have been waste of breath and further provocation, and the Lord put them to silence by an appeal to Scripture. In the eyes of the Israelites of old, justice was so sacred that they designate d its ministers “gods.” “Ye are gods : how long will ye judge unjustly?” is the Psalmist’s rebuke of unrighteous judges (Ps. lxxxii; cf. Ex. xxi. 6, xxii. 8, 28; Ps. lviii. 1 R.V. marg.). Hence argued our Lord : if the Scripture called judges, even unjust judges, “gods” in virtue of their sacred office, was it blasphemy in Him, whom the Father had sanctified and commissioned to the world, to say “I am God’s Son” ? His works were His justification; for they were works of God, and if they proved no more, they proved His divine commission. “If I am not doing the works of My Father, do not believe Me ; but if I am, then, even though you do not believe Me, believe the works, that you may be sure and ever surer that the Father is in Me and I in the Father.”
Of course it was not on our Lord’s part a serious argument; for it was not thus that He handled the Scriptures. But it was precisely thus that the Rabbis handled them, and on their mode of exegesis the logic [ p. 289 ] of the argument was irresistible. They durst not now stone Him as a blasphemer, yet they were loath that He should escape. They made to arrest Him, but He evaded them and withdrew. In face of the implacable hostility of the rulers and their repeated attempts upon His life He would continue no longer in Jerusalem, since He still had work to do and He would not have His ministry brought to a premature conclusion. So He quitted the city and retired to Bethabara, the first scene of the Baptist’s preaching. It was for our Lord a place of hallowed memory ; for it was there that He had been called almost three years ago to begin the ministry which was now so near completion, and there He would await the call to His supreme Sacrifice.
He left Jerusalem with His little band of disciples and, crossing the Kidron Valley, climbed the slope of Mount Olivet. On reaching the summit He paused and looked back on the city which He had so earnestly sought to win and which had rejected the overtures of His grace. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem,” He cried, “that killeth the prophets and stoneth those sent to her ! How often would I have gathered thy children even as a bird gathers her brood under her wings ! and ye would not. Behold, ‘ your house is left you desolate.’ For I tell you, ye shall never more see Me until you say : ‘ Blessed be He who cometh in the name of the Lord.’” (Jer. xxii. 5; Ps. cxviii. 26)
Yes, there was still hope for Jerusalem ; for the Lord would address to her yet another, His final and supremely solemn, appeal. And even now His labour had not been in vain. Rejected by the rulers, His grace had found an entrance into lowly souls. And it had been so ordained. It was His Father’s work that [ p. 290 ] He had been doing, and whatsoever had befallen Him was His Father’s will, and the issue was safe in His Father’s hands. “I praise Thee, Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, that Thou hast hidden these things from wise men and shrewd and hast revealed them to babes ; yes, Father, that so it was well pleasing in Thy sight. All has been committed to Me by My Father; and none recognises the Son but the Father, nor does any recognise the Father but the Son and him to whom it is the Son’s will to reveal Him.”
Therewith He took His way down the Ascent of Blood.
The proper rendering of a much disputed phrase (Jo. viii. 25). ↩︎