[ p. 466 ]
THE RESURRECTION
Mt xxviii; Mk. xvi; Lk. xxiv (Ac. i. 1-14); Jo. xx, xxi; 1 Cor. xv.
As the record of our Lord’s earthly life began with a transcendent miracle, even so it ends. His humanity was a fresh creation : He was begotten of the Holy Spirit in a virgin’s womb, “begotten, not of bloods ”— the mingled blood of human parents—“nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of a man, but of God.” (Ac. i. 3, x. 40,41) Nor when He died did He “see corruption.” 40, 41. “God raised Him from the dead on the third day,” and “He showed Himself alive after His passion to chosen witnesses”; and thereafter He ascended to the Father and is enthroned evermore at His right hand, still wearing, transfigured and glorified (Jo. xx. 17; Col. iii. 1.), the humanity which He wore in the days of His flesh. This is the historic faith of the Christian Church, and it is no late invention. It is proclaimed in St. Paul’s earliest epistle, written in 51 A.D. (1 Th. i. 10, iii. 13, iv. 14), just two-and-twenty years after the event, and continually affirmed on the pages of the New Testament within the lifetime of the first generation of believers, and always as a fact of indubitable certainty and universal acceptation.
It is the story of this amazing event as told by the Evangelists that now claims our attention ; and it will be profitable for us, delivering us from much bewilderment and harassing doubt, if at the outset [ p. 467 ] we consider the nature of the testimonies which they adduce and appreciate their differing values.
The difficulty which immediately confronts us is that those testimonies abound in inconsistencies and contradictions. For example, when Mary the Magdalene came to the sepulchre, it was, according to St. Matthew, “late on the Sabbath as the first day of the week was breaking,” (Mt. xxviii. 1-7; Mk. xvi. 1-7; Lk. xxiv. 1-8; Jo. xx. 1-12) that is, at sunset on the Sabbath when, on the Jewish reckoning, the new day began; according to St. Mark, it was “very early in the morning on the first day of the week when the sun had risen” ; according to St. Luke, “at deep dawn on the first day of the week” ; and, according to St. John, “on the first day of the week early in the morning while it was yet dark.” Again, according to St. Mark and St. Luke, the errand of Mary and her companions was to embalm the Lord’s body, whereas, according to St. John, it had already been embalmed at its burial on the Friday evening, and he and St. Matthew agree that they came “to see the sepulchre.” (Jo. xix. 39, 40) Once more, according to St. Matthew, after their arrival at the sepulchre there was an earthquake and an angel descended and rolled away the stone and sat on it; according to the other Evangelists, it had already been rolled away when they arrived, and it was within the sepulchre that they saw, according to St. Mark, a single angel and, according to St. Luke and St. John, two angels.
And observe this larger difficulty. In St. Matthew’s narrative (Mt. xxvii. 52,53) of the crucifixion it is written that not merely was the Veil of the Sanctuary rent in twain by the earthquake but “the rocks were rent [ p. 468 ] and the sepulchres were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had been laid to rest were raised and having come forth from the sepulchres after His raising entered into the Holy City and were manifested to many.” This story, told by St. Matthew alone, has always been a puzzle. It perplexed St. Augustine, and in one of his epistles he mentions the difficulties which were felt regarding it in his day. The chief is that if those saints were raised when our Lord died on the cross, then, since it was not till the third day after that He was raised, their resurrection preceded His, and thus He was not “the first-born from the dead,” “the first-fruits of those who have gone to rest.” (Col. i. 18; Rev. i. 5; 1 cor. xv. 20) Two answers have been proposed. One is that Ihe same difficulty attaches to the other cases of the raising of the widow’s son at Nain, Jair’s daughter, and Lazarus ; but this suggestion only aggravates the difficulty, and besides it overlooks the fact that those three raisings were merely reanimations. Lazarus was not raised with a glorified body. His mortal body was simply restored to life, and by and by it died again and its dust is still awaiting the Resurrection morning; whereas the raising of those saints was a veritable resurrection like our Lord’s. The second suggestion is that, though the sepulchres were opened by the earthquake, the inmates were not raised till after the Lord’s Resurrection. But this is not the Evangelist’s statement. He explicitly says in the first instance that they were raised when the sepulchres were opened. And what then ? Here his language is ambiguous, since it may be construed either “and they came forth from the sepulchres after His raising, and entered into the Holy City” or “and [ p. 469 ] they came forth from the sepulchres, and after His raising entered into the Holy City.” In the former case they lurked alive in their shattered sepulchres outside Jerusalem until He had been raised on the third day, when they emerged and entered the city ; and in the latter they quitted the sepulchres immediately and concealed themselves elsewhere till the third day. In either case their resurrection preceded His, and He was not “the first-born from the dead.”
What then must be said of those narratives, so inharmonious and insusceptible of reasonable reconciliation ? Realise the original situation. For a reason which will in due course appear, the Risen Lord’s manifestations were vouchsafed “not to all the people but to chosen witnesses.” (Ac. x. 41) And conceive how these would be affected by an experience so unexpected, so transcendent. They would publish the fact that they had seen the Lord, but wonder and reverence would refrain their lips from enlarging upon a mystery so solemn to themselves and so incomprehensible to others. And naturally what little they divulged would be curiously canvassed by their hearers and would gather accretions in its passage from mouth to mouth.
And see what resulted by and by when the Evangelists wrote the story of our Lord’s earthly life. In the apostolic tradition of His public ministry they had no lack of precious and authentic material; but it ended with the crucifixion, and what material was available when they came to tell the sequel? None of the three Synoptists belonged to the circle of the “chosen witnesses.” For though it bears his name, our first Gospel was not written by the Apostle [ p. 470 ] Matthew. The Gospel which he acually wrote was an Aramaic “Book of Logia,” a compilation of our Lord’s sayings, which appeared probably early in the fifth decade of the first century ; and our first Gospel is an amplification thereof by a later hand. None of our three Evangelists had witnessed the manifestations of the Risen Lord, and when they told the story, they had nothing to go upon but the common report. Here is the reason why their narratives are so brief, so vague, and so inharmonious ; and valuable though they are as evidences of the fact so surely believed by the first generation, the men and women who had known the Lord in the days of His flesh, it is well for us that we have other testimonies more intimate and authoritative. The first we owe to the diligent researches of St. Luke. (Cf. Lk. i. 1-4) He had encountered two of the eye-witnesses, and he heard from their lips the precious narrative of their meeting with the Risen Lord at Emmaus. (Lk. xxiv. 13-35) But better still and precious beyond all estimation is the full and moving narrative which the Beloved Disciple gave to the churches of Asia during his long ministry there and which, for the profit of after ages, he has written in the closing chapters of his peerless Gospel. (Jo. xx. xxi.)
So surely was it believed, that when doubt arose in the primitive Church, it was never the Resurrection of our Lord that was called in question but the resurrection of believers—the blessed hope that He was “the first-fruits of those who have gone to rest,” and as Jesus died and rose again, “so too those whom Jesus has laid to rest will God bring with Him” (1 Th. iv. 14); and it will help us to a deeper faith in [ p. 471 ] the Resurrection of our Lord if we consider how St. Paul dealt with the question of the resurrection of believers when his converts at Corinth told him of their difficulties regarding it. “How,” they inquired, “are the dead raised ? And with what sort of body do they come ?” (1 cor. xv. 35)
It was a twofold problem, and they presented one side of it when they asked : “How are the dead raised ?” When our mortal bodies are laid to rest, they do not lie there intact, awaiting the Resurrection morning. No sooner are they committed to the bosom of the earth than they experience the mysterious processes of Nature’s alchemy. They decay; they crumble ; they are resolved into their primal elements. Could we penetrate a grass-grown mound in God’s Acre, would we find the lifeless form still reposing there “with meek hands folded on its breast” ? No, it has disappeared. It has disappeared, but it has not perished. It has been transmuted. As the Egyptian puts it in Quentin Durward, it has “melted into the general mass of nature, to be recompounded in the other forms with which she daily supplies those which daily disappear, and return under different forms—the watery particles to streams and showers, the earthly parts to enrich their mother earth, the airy portions to wanton in the breeze, and those of fire to supply the blaze of Aldebaran and his brethren.” And how then are the dead raised ? Plow can the dispersed elements be regathered and recomposed ? They belong to the common store of matter which remains constant, unincreased and undiminished, through all its transformations and adaptations ; and the corporeal vestments which our souls wear now, [ p. 472 ] have clothed myriads before us, and would be theirs no less than ours at the Resurrection.
And suppose they could be restored to us then : are they suited for the Eternal Order ? They are material, and what place could they hold in a spiritual domain (1 Cor. xv. 50)—that Kingdom which, as the Apostle allows, “flesh and blood cannot inherit” ? Shall we go thither, sneered the mocking pagans in early days, with hair on our heads and nails on our fingers ? It would be this sort of coarse gibe that was rankling in the mind of that Corinthian Christian when he inquired further : “If the dead are raised, with what sort of body do they come ?”
It was indeed a perplexing question, and he was no frivolous sceptic who propounded it but an earnest man who would fain believe but found faith very difficult; and what is the Apostle’s reply ? He points to the perpetual miracle of the seed and the harvest—truly a transcendent miracle though familiarity has dulled our perception of its mystery. Here is the natural law of the Resurrection. “Some one will say: ‘How are the dead raised ? And with what sort of body do they come ? ’” “Unperceiving man !” cries the Apostle ; “open your eyes and see what is passing around you, and you will never ask that question or be troubled by that difficulty any more. For the resurrection of the body is no remote mystery; it is an operation of the natural order, a familiar fact of daily experience. Look at the fields and see the seed cast into the ground and springing up in a rich and glorious harvest: there is the miracle of the Resurrection enacted before your eyes.” The seed dies, but it dies that it may live again and live [ p. 473 ] more abundantly. For death is not merely, in St. Bernard’s phrase, “the gate of life”; it is the pathway to an ampler and nobler life.
But will this suffice ? The harvest is no less material than the seed, and will the nobler body which will arise from the mortal body be less material or better fitted to inherit the Kingdom of God ? Consider, argues the Apostle, what “body” is. It is a larger term than “flesh.” There are indeed bodies of flesh, but even these are widely diverse. There is human flesh, and there is the flesh of beast and bird and fish. These are all different, yet they are all flesh. And they are all bodies, but they are not the only sorts of body. There are heavenly bodies as well as earthly bodies, and the heavenly bodies are not bodies of flesh. And moreover, like the earthly bodies, they are of different sorts: sun, moon, and stars have each a peculiar glory.
“Flesh” then and “body” are not synonymous terms; and while flesh cannot inherit the Kingdom of God, it in no wise follows that body cannot. And hence the Apostle carries forward his argument; and his thought in this magnificent passage is no mere devout fancy or philosophic speculation but a prophetic vision of a truth which physical science is at length in these days perceiving and investigating. He distinguishes between “natural” or rather “animal bodies” and “spiritual bodies.” The former are bodies of flesh, and they are earthly and cannot inherit the Kingdom of God; but the latter are heavenly bodies, and they can. And furthermore there is a relation betwixt the two. The animal body is in truth the rough cast of the spiritual body. As one modern master has written, there is, “as it [ p. 474 ] were, a brain within the brain, a body within the body, something like that which the Orientals have for ages spoken of as the ’ Astral Body/” As there is a universal matter within matter—the “luminiferous ether,” as we denominate it in our present ignorance— the medium through which the X-rays and wireless telegraphy operate, so there is a body within the body; and in due season the scaffolding will be removed, “this muddy vesture of decay” will fall off, and the spiritual body will emerge, purged of its present grossness and fit to inherit the Kingdom of God. Meanwhile our bodies are only in the making. Science has traced their marvellous history—the patient evolution of the rude protoplasm into these complex organs of mind and soul. Even now they are still only in the making; and the agelong process will at length attain its final goal when “the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, shall fashion anew the body of our humiliation, that it may be conformed to the body of His glory.” (Phil. iii. 21) And this is the miracle of the Resurrection—the ultimate realisation of the Creator’s eternal purpose, the “one far-off divine event to which the whole creation moves.”
Such was the glorious body which our Lord brought from the sepulchre and which He wears evermore at God’s right hand. It was the body which He had worn in the days of His flesh, but it was transfigured even as ours shall one day be when “He who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will quicken even our mortal bodies through His Spirit who has His dwelling in us,” (Rom. viii. 11; 1 Cor. xv. 53) and “this that is corruptible shall clothe itself with incorruption, and this that is mortal clothe itself with [ p. 475 ] immortality.” It was an heavenly, a spiritual body, imperceptible by earthly, material sense ; and here lies the reason why it was not to all the people but only to chosen witnesses that He was manifested after His Resurrection. According to Holy Scripture the Eternal World continually encompasses us, “unheard because our ears are dull, unseen because our eyes are dim” (Heb. xii. 1,22,24); and there are two ways whereby it may be discovered to us. One is that the eternal should be accommodated to our present limitations. And so it happened at the Incarnation when “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory.” The other way is that the miracle should be wrought upon us—that miracle which, incomprehensible by us meanwhile, St. Paul defines as “the enlightenment of the eyes of our heart,” (Eph. i. 18 R.V.) a temporary withdrawal of the veil of sense, “this muddy vesture of decay” which “doth grossly close us in.” That was the manner of the heavenly manifestations which are recorded in the Old Testament. Remember, for example, what is written of Elisha—how the Syrians invested Dothan by night, and early in the morning his servant went forth and, behold, an host encompassed the city with horses and chariots (2 Ki. vi. 13-17). “Alas, my master !” he cried, “how shall we do ?” “And Elisha prayed, and said, ‘ Lord, open his eyes that he may see’ And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man ; and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha.” That was the manner of revelations of old ; and it was the manner of the manifestations of the Risen Lord. And therefore it is written that when God raised Him on the [ p. 476 ] third day, He granted that He should become manifest, not to all the people, but to witnesses whom He had previously chosen.”
And now with all this before our minds let us turn to the Evangelists’ story.
After helping to lay the Lord’s body in Joseph’s sepulchre the three women returned to the city (Lk. xxiii. 56). The next day was the Sabbath, and after the Jewish fashion they spent it in holy rest, comforting each other in their sorrow. All the while their hearts were with the dear Master where they had laid Him, and as soon as the Sabbath was over they set forth while it was yet dark and took their way to Mount Olivet, that in womanly tenderness they might visit His last resting-place and weep beside it in loving and regretful remembrance (Cf. Jo. xi. 31). That was all their errand. They had no thought of gazing at His dear dead face or paying any tribute of reverence to His lifeless clay. For they had seen the stone which closed the mouth of the cavern rolled into its place, and even if they would, they could not with their weak hands have stirred it. To their surprise they found on their arrival that it had been rolled away and the entrance to the sepulchre stood open. One explanation and only one occurred to them : the sepulchre had been visited by His enemies, and His sacred body had been removed and doubtless cast into the Valley of Hinnom; and they sped away to Peter and John and told them the distressful tidings. “They have taken the Lord out of the sepulchre,” they cried, “and we know not where they have put Him !”
The two ran to see for themselves, and John, the [ p. 477 ] younger and more agile, outdistanced his comrade and got first to the sepulchre. It was indeed open, and he passed in. Picture the situation. It was no common tomb but a vault which after the manner of wealthy men Joseph had hewn out of the rock as his family burial-place ; and it is described in the Talmud how such a vault was constructed. In the floor along the walls cists ( kokhin ) were excavated, three to right and three to left and two at the far end, each four cubits long, seven deep, and six broad ; and in these the embalmed bodies were deposited side by side. The Lord’s body was the first that had been deposited there. It had been laid in the cist nearest the entrance on the right hand (Mk. xvi. 5); and on entering the vault John peered down and in the dim light made out to his surprise that the linen winding-sheet was lying flat. As he wondered, his comrade arrived, and with characteristic impetuosity he did not stay to wonder. Since the Lord’s body was the first that had been laid in it, there was ample space in the broad cist, and Peter descended to explore it. He found that the body had indeed disappeared, and not only was the winding-sheet lying flat as though its content had evaporated, but the napkin which had encircled the Lord’s head remained in its place, retaining its fold (Cf. Jo. xi. 44). He told John how things were, and the latter could not believe it until he too descended and saw it with his own eyes. What could it mean ? Neither of them guessed the wonderful truth ; “for,” says the Evangelist in telling the story long afterwards, shamefastly confessing their dulness, “they knew not yet the Scripture, that He must rise from the dead.”
[ p. 478 ]
Perplexed yet in so far relieved inasmuch as it was plainly no rude hand that had rifled the sepulchre, they quitted the vault and sought their fellows. Meanwhile Mary had returned alone and entered the vault, and now stood weeping by the empty cist. She did not descend into it, but she stooped and peered into it through her tears; and there at either end she beheld an angel. “Woman,” they asked, “why are you weeping ?” “They have taken away my Lord,” she answered, “and I know not where they have put Him.” Here something checked her— a look, perhaps, or a motion of the angels. She turned sharply round and beheld some one standing behind her. It was Jesus, but she did not recognise Him, not merely because within the vault the light was dim but because His aspect was so changed. “Woman,” said He, “why are you weeping ? Whom are you seeking ?” Her natural fancy was that He was the gardener and was challenging her for trespass. “Sir,” she pleaded, looking back to the empty cist, “if it was you that carried Him off, tell me where you have put Him, and I will take Him away.” “Miriam !” said He, lapsing, as Jews were wont in moods of tenderness, into the kindly mother-tongue and calling her by her Hebrew name with the loving accent which she had heard from no lips but His. That revealed Him. She wheeled round. “Rabboni!” she cried, “My honoured Master !” and would have flung herself at His feet and embraced them.
But He drew back. No more than Peter and John did she realise the wonderful truth. Her fancy was that by some happy chance He was not dead after all. Either He had merely swooned on the cross and [ p. 479 ] had recovered consciousness after being laid in the sepulchre, or else a miracle had been wrought on Him like that which He had wrought on Lazarus. In any case He was there before her alive, and she supposed that she would now resume the old sweet fellowship. And indeed He was alive, but the reality was more wonderful and blessed than she imagined. The former fellowship, so dear yet limited by the conditions of His incarnate state, was gone never to return ; but thenceforth, while she tarried on earth, she would have Him with her in spiritual presence, her Risen and Glorified Saviour, until at last she too would put off her mortal flesh and be clothed like Him with a spiritual body and share His eternal rest. And so, when she would have embraced Him, He drew back. “Be not clinging to Me” said He. It is the same word as Simon the Pharisee had used on that unforgotten evening when he was entertaining Jesus at his table and Mary, a penitent sinner, stole in and, crouching beside the couch where He reclined, anointed His feet and wept over them and wiped away the warm rain with her loose hair and kissed them. “If he were a prophet,” exclaimed the horrified Pharisee, “he would have recognised who and what sort of woman this is who is clinging to him !” The Lord had no rebuke for her then when she lavished upon Him the devotion of her grateful heart; but now all was changed, and He would have her and her fellow-disciples realise it (Lk. vii. 39). “Be not clinging to Me,” He said ; “for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go to My brethren and say to them : ‘ I ascend to My Father and your Father, to My God and your God ’” [ p. 480 ] She sought the disciples and told them her story, but they received it with pitying incredulity. They supposed that she was crazed with grief, and her story seemed to them mere “raving” So says St. Luke, and the word is one of “the beloved physician’s” medical terms, signifying the delirium of a fevered brain. (Lk. xxiv. 11)
So incredulous were they, so sure that all was over, that they thought only of returning to their homes and forgetting the fond hope which they had cherished ; and that afternoon two of them took their departure— not two of the Eleven but ordinary disciples. They belonged to Emmaus, a village between seven and eight miles south-west of Jerusalem; and it is likely that they were brothers, since they lived together like Peter and Andrew at Bethsaida. One of them was named Cleopas, and probably it was he that afterwards told St. Luke the story. The other is anonymous, since the Evangelist never knew him and never heard his name.
As they travelled toward their village, they conversed of the morning’s happenings, and they fell to hot debate. Is it not an evidence that Cleopas was St. Luke’s informant that he makes no concealment of the ungracious part he played ? Like Thomas the Twin he was prone to despondency, and he stoutly disbelieved the story of Mary and the other women ; whereas his companion took a more hopeful view. Suddenly amid their altercation a stranger appeared Lk.xxiv. beside them and accosted them. “What words are these,” said he, “that you are bandying with each other as you walk ?” Ashamed of being thus caught, they halted and cast their eyes on [ p. 481 ] the ground. Then Cleopas retorted somewhat rudely: “Are you a solitary sojourner at Jerusalem that you have not learned what has happened there in these days ?” “What is it ?” asked the stranger. “All about Jesus the Nazarene, who proved a prophet right powerful in work and word in the sight of God and all the people, and how our Chief Priests and Rulers delivered Him to sentence of death and crucified Him. Our hope was that it was He that should redeem Israel; but for all that this is the third day since it all happened.” “Yes,” struck in the other, “but some women belonging to us astonished us. They went early in the morning to the sepulchre and did not find His body, and they came and said that they had seen a vision of angels who said He was alive. And some of our company went off to the sepulchre and found it just as the women had said.’ “But,” interposed Cleopas, “Him they did not see.”
“Ah, you witless men,” said the stranger, “and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke ! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and enter into His glory ?” Then he appealed to the Old Testament and, quoting passage after passage from the Law and the Prophets, showed how these had their fulfilment in the experience of their crucified Master. It was an undreamed-of illumination of those familiar scriptures, and they listened with kindling hearts. Though they travelled slowly, so slowly that the sun had sunk beneath the horizon ere they reached Emmaus, they were still greedy of further discourse. He would have passed on His way, but they would not hear of it. “Stay with us,” they insisted. “It is toward evening, and [ p. 482 ] the day has now declined.” Soon supper was spread, and to their surprise the stranger assumed the part of host and blessed the humble meal. Grace before meat was a Jewish custom, but His manner of performing the office was no custom. “He took the bread and blessed it and broke it and handed it to them.” It was the manner of their Lord, and it revealed Him to them even as His tender accent when He called her by her name had revealed Him to Mary. “Their eyes were opened, and they recognised Him” ; but ere they could greet Him, “He vanished away from their sight.” (Mt. xviii. 20; xxviii. 20) He was not gone. He was with them still even as, according to His promise, He is with His people evermore ; but the veil of sense, for a season withdrawn, reenfolded them and hid Him from them.
They started up and hastened back to Jerusalem to tell the tale. There they found the disciples no longer dispirited and dispersed here and there but assembled, no doubt in that “upper room” which was thenceforth their meeting place—an apart ment on the top storey of a poor tenement. It was a large gathering. The Eleven all save Thomas were there and with them the company of their fellow-believers ; and though there was danger in their thus braving the rulers and they had the doors fast locked, there was gladness in their hearts. No sooner had Cleopas and his companion gained admission than they were greeted with a joyful announcement: “The Lord is really risen and has appeared to Simon !” (Cf. Ac. i. 13; Lk. xxiv. 33; Cf. 1 cor. xv. 5) What had transpired at this the recreant Apostle’s first meeting with the Master is nowhere recorded, and surely the reason [ p. 483 ] is that he never divulged it. It was too sacred to be published abroad, and none but his trusted and sympathetic intimates would ever hear it from his lips. It was enough for the rest to know that “the Lord was really risen and had appeared to Simon,” and they greeted the new-comers with the joyful tidings.
As soon as they obtained a hearing, the latter told their story; and presently a sudden hush fell on the exultant company. The doors were fast shut, and no one had knocked and been admitted; yet there stood Jesus in the midst. No wonder they were startled and fancied it was a spirit that they beheld, till He addressed to them the customary greeting : shalom lakhem , “Peace be unto you !” (Lk. xxiv. 37) and granted them a sure token of His identity. He showed them His hands, and they saw the nail-prints ; He bared His breast, and they saw where the spear had pierced His heart. And thus they were assured that it was indeed their Lord that they beheld, wearing evermore in His glorified body the memorials of His redeeming Passion. (Cf. Rev. v. 6)
Their hearts leaped with gladness, and they would have compassed Him with tumultuous rejoicing. But He restrained them. It was not to stir idle emotion in their breasts that He had manifested Himself to them, but to remind them of the high service whereto He had called them ere His Passion and which they had forgotten amid its anguish. “Peace be unto you ! ’ said He “As the Father has commissioned Me, I also send you.” That was their calling—to win for Him the world which He had redeemed by His Infinite Sacrifice. They needed for its achievement that heavenly reinforcement which He had [ p. 484 ] promised in the Upper Room—the grace of the Holy Spirit, the Advocate- whom He would send them in His room ; and, symbolising this in oriental fashion, He breathed on them. “Receive,” said He, “the Holy Spirit.” And then He reiterated their commission. Twice already had He given it—first to Peter when he made his great confession at Caesarea Philippi (Mt. xvi. 19; xviii. 18), and then presently to all the Twelve when they had joined in that confession. And now He still further extends it and addresses it to all that company, ten of them Apostles and the rest ordinary disciples, charging them all and their successors in faith and devotion from generation to generation to proclaim His Gospel of mercy and of judgment.
Thomas was absent from that gathering. True to his character he regarded the story of Mary and the other women with disdainful incredulity, and sat alone, hugging his despair. His comrades sought him and reported what had happened in the Upper Room ; but he refused to believe it. He questioned whether it were really the Lord that they had seen ; and when they assured him that they had seen the scars on His hands and side, he remained incredulous. He required still surer evidence : he must not merely see the scars but put his finger “where the nails had been” and put his hand into His side. For a week he persisted in his unbelief ; nevertheless his curiosity had been aroused, and when they assembled next Sunday evening, he was there. Again the Lord appeared. “Peace be unto you !” said He; and then He addressed Thomas. He showed him the wounds. “Bring your finger here,” said He : “see My hands ; [ p. 485 ] bring your hand, and put it into My side. And be done with your unbelief : believe/’ “My Lord !” cried Thomas, " my God !” and the Lord answered with a gentle rebuke : “Because you have seen Me, you have believed ? Blessed are they who believed without seeing.” It was a rebuke to them all for their slowness of heart to believe all that the prophets had spoken and all that He had foretold them of His death and His rising again.
Here St. John ended his Gospel. There was indeed much more that he might have told ; for more than that week elapsed ere the Lord bade His disciples His last farewell. For forty days after His Resurrection He tarried in their midst, manifesting Himself from time to time to chosen witnesses (Cf. Ac. i. 3). But surely they would shrink from speaking of those high hours of ineffable vision. Something indeed they must tell, especially in view of the vague and distorted reports which, as time passed, went abroad; and now that he has told what he deemed sufficient, the Beloved Disciple concludes his precious narrative. “There were many signs which Jesus made in the sight of His disciples besides those which are written in this book ; but these have been written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in His name.”
Thus his Gospel concluded, and thus it was first delivered to his churches in the Province of Asia; but presently he recognised the expediency of adding something more. As will duly appear, a notion had got abroad which was at once personally embarrassing and generally harmful; and to correct this he now resumes his pen and writes a supplementary chapter, [ p. 486 ] recounting yet another manifestation of the Risen Lord, the most solemn and memorable of all.
When His disciples were gathered with Him at the Supper on the eve of His arrest, after forewarning them of the imminent tragedy the Lord sought, as He had been wont at every premonition of His Passion, to carry their thoughts forward to the final triumph. He assured them that He would rise again, “and,” He added, “after I am raised I will go before you to Galilee.” (Mt. xxvi. 32; Mk. xiv. 28) At the moment the promise was unintelligible to them; but after His Resurrection He repeated it. He would fain have a last meeting with the Eleven and once more as of old commune with them alone. There was no privacy in the busy capital, and—perhaps on that second Sunday evening—He appointed a meeting-place— the uplands overlooking the Lake, whither He had in former days been wont to retreat with them from the clamorous multitude. Again He would commune with them as of old (Cf. Mt. xxviii. 16); and He bade them now travel north to the dear homeland and there await His appearing.
They betook themselves to Capernaum and waited there. The days passed, and still He did not appear. Meanwhile they had need of daily bread, and one evening when their store was spent, seven of them were together by the lakeside—Simon Peter, Thomas the Twin, Nathanael bar Talmai, James and John the sons of Zebedee, and two others. “I am off to fish” said Peter. “We are going with you” said the others ; and launching their small boat, they put off to Peter’s old smack lying at anchor and, boarding her, arranged their tackle and steered for the fishing ground.
[ p. 487 ]
Just as on that other memorable night three years ago their net was empty when they drew it, and in the early morning they returned disappointed to the anchorage (Lk. v. 1-11). As they were mooring the smack some hundred yards off, they noticed a stranger on the beach, evidently, as they supposed, a merchant from Tancheae waiting the arrival of the boats with their cargoes. They had none to sell, and they paid no heed till he hailed them : “Lads, have you any fish ?” ‘No” they shouted back. And then he said: “Cast the net on the starboard side of the boat, and you will have a take.” Fancying him a merchant skilled in fisher craft, they would suppose that from his vantageground on the beach he had descried the movement of a shoal; and they did as he directed. Immediately the net was full, so full that they could not draw it Just three years ago a like thing had happened on that very spot, and the truth flashed upon John He turned to Peter. “It is the Lord !” he exclaimed! Peter had stripped to handle the net, and snatching up his seaman’s jacket, a sleeveless tunic reaching to the knees, he put it on, flung himself overboard, and swam ashore. His less impetuous mates got into the small boat and rowed after him, towing the heavy net (Cf. Jo. xxi. R.V. ). On getting ashore they saw a charcoal fire laid ready and beside it a cake of bread and some dried fish—a scanty provision indeed for a hungry crew, yet graciously significant inasmuch as it not merely bespoke kindly regard for their need but reminded them of the barley cakes and the dried fishes wherewith the Master had once fed the multitude at Bethsaida Julias (Jo. vi. 9). If they had any doubt who it was that was standing there, this [ p. 488 ] token would assure them. Ere communing with them He would fain calm their agitation and re-establish the old familiar intimacy ; and just as He would have done of old He bade them partake of the food which they so much required. The dried fish was insufficient, and He called for some of their catch. Peter, ever prompt, hastened to the small boat and, dragging the net high and dry, unladed it. It proved a huge haul, no fewer than a hundred and fifty-three large fish, and yet, as he and John remarked, the old net so long unused had stood the strain without a rent. When as many as were required had been dressed, “Come, said Jesus, “and breakfast” ; and after His old fashion “He took the bread and gave it to them, and likewise the dried fish.” It was a re-enactment of the scene in the Upper Room on the night of His betrayal; but there was one difference. Observe how the Evangelist (Cf. Lk. xxiv. 19-43), tacitly correcting the crude popular notion, records merely that «• He took the food and gave it to them. He did not share it. “Flesh and blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of God” ; and His glorified body was no longer “flesh and blood,” no longer “an animal body” needing material nourishment, but “a spiritual body.” [1]
When the meal was finished and they were all at ease, He accosted Peter. “Simon son of John,” said He, “Simon son of the Lord’s grace,” (Jo. i. 42.) ^ significant appellation which He had twice, already employed—at Bethabara when He first [ p. 489 ] met with Peter, a rude fisherman, and prophesied what grace would do for him, and again at Caesarea Philippi when He hailed that great confession which justified His early trust (Mt. xvi. 17). Here again He employs it, as though reminding the disciple who had played so ill a part that the grace which had blessed him at the first would still avail him. It was a kindly prelude, but what followed ? “Simon son of John, have you more regard for Me than these ?” (Mt. xxvi. 33) It was a reminiscence of Peter’s boast in the Upper Room so shamefully belied in the Chief Priest’s courtyard that though all the others might forsake the Master, he never would ; and it would be like a stab to the penitent’s tender heart. “Yes, Lord,” he replied, “you know that I love you.” “Feed My lambs was the answer. Presently the question was repeated : “Simon son of John, have you a regard for Me ? ” and Peter repeated his reply: “Yes, Lord, you know that I love vou.” “Be a shepherd to My poor sheep ” said the Lord. A third time He put the question, accepting Peter’s correction : Simon son of John, do you love Me ? ”
And now Peter was more grieved than ever; for it seemed as though the Lord were doubting not merely his regard but his love, and surely, whatever his defect in loyalty, his love was evident : was it not expressed at that moment in his every look and tone ? Lord, he cried, “you know everything : you perceive that I love you.” “Feed My poor sheep ” was the answer.
And in that answer, thrice variously given, lies the explanation of the Lord’s seeming cruelty. He was not taunting Peter with his disloyalty and putting him [ p. 490 ] to shame before the others ; nor would the others so take Him. For had they not all, save John, played a worse part than Peter ? He had rallied from the panic in Gethsemane when they all forsook Him and fled, and had followed Him into the Chief Priest’s courtyard. It was there that he had denied the Master , and had they been there and been tried like him, what better would they have done ? In truth their disloyalty had been worse than his and merited a heavier reproach. But reproach was far from the Lord’s thought His purpose in recalling Peter’s disloyalty was to show him and all the rest how they might make amends He was leaving the multitude which had believed in Him in an evil world like a crowd of frightened sheep.’’ Here was the opportunity of the Eleven, the men whom He had chosen to be His helpers while He was with them and His witnesses after He was gone. How better could they atone for their disloyalty to Him than by caring for His flock, the sheep for which the Good Shepherd had laid down His life ?
The Lord did not stay to hear the impetuous vow of devotion which would leap to Peter’s lips. “Verily, verily I tell you,” He continued, “when you were younger, you used to gird yourself and walk where you would ; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands and another will gird you and bear you where you will not.” It was a prophecy of the martyrdom which crowned the long years of Peter’s apostolic devotion. The story is that he was crucified at Rome in the year 67 on the same day when St. Paul was beheaded ; and here, in language which the disciples would easily understand, the Lord depicts [ p. 491 ] him stripped, outstretched on the scourging post, and driven to execution. Thus nobly he atoned in his chastened age for the disloyalty of his impulsive youth , and thus generously did the Lord make amends for His seeming severity and exalt the humbled penitent in the eyes of his fellows.
And He vouchsafed yet another token of Peter’s restoration. He and the sons of Zebedee had been the Master’s special intimates; and even as of old He had required their companionship in His seasons of privacy, so now He would commune with Peter and John apart. “Follow Me” said He to the former (Cf. Mt. xvii. 1; Mk. ix. 2; Lk. ix. 28; Mt. xxvi. 37; Mk. xiv. 33). Instinctively Peter turned to his old comrade, and seeing that he too had risen to attend the Master, he wondered what would be the issue of the fellowship thus happily resumed. Comrades in life, would they be comrades in death, or was there some gentler fate in store for the disciple whom Jesus loved ? “Lord,” said he, “and what of him ?”
However natural, it was an idle question. Surely he should have been content with the assurance that he would so nobly atone for his disloyalty; and the Lord gently reproved him. “If,” said He, it be My will that he remain until I come, what is it to you ? You follow Me.” And therewith He led the way. Peter would understand, and so did John ; but when the story got abroad, it was mischievously miscon strued. It was taken to mean that the Beloved Disciple would never die but would survive until the Lord’s Second Advent; and despite His frequent admonitions that the progress of His Kingdom would be gradual, the idea arose that He would return [ p. 492 ] within the lifetime of that generation. It was a vain expectation; and as the years passed and still He did not appear (Cf. 2 Pet. iii. 4), those who entertained it were sorely troubled. At length all that generation which had seen the Lord had passed away except the disciple whom He had loved; and quoting the promise that he would remain until the Lord’s return, they eagerly anticipated its immediate fulfilment. The fond illusion reached the ears of the aged Apostle; and here he corrects it, pointing out what the Lord had really meant. “Jesus did not say that he was not to die, but ‘ If it be My will that he remain until I come, what is it to you ?’”
It was to correct that mischievous misconception that St. John added this chapter to his Gospel. Else he would never have published the story of this peculiarly solemn manifestation of the Risen Lord; and he published only so much as the occasion required. He told how it came to pass that the Lord spoke that word, and what it really signified ; and he told nothing more—nothing of the converse which He held with him and Peter when He had led them apart, perhaps to His accustomed retreat on the hillside, or of the further manifestations which He surely vouchsafed to the Eleven during their sojourn in Galilee.
Only this further is recorded. Their sojourn there was their farewell to the dear homeland. Jerusalem was the starting-point of their new career, and thither they betook themselves to await His final charges. It was forty days after the Resurrection and they were assembled in their upper room when He appeared [ p. 493 ] in their midst and conducted them forth to Bethany— not the village but the western slope of Mount Olivet which, as we have seen, bore that designation and which included within its circuit the Garden of Gethsemane. It was surely thither that He conducted them (Lk. xxiv. 50; cf. Mt. xxi. 17) ; and it is instructive to consider that on the way thither they passed along the streets of the city, crossed the Kidron, and ascended the slope of the mountain. They would encounter a multitude of passers-by, yet none perceived Him. They saw the Eleven, but the veil of sense hid Him from their sight. They saw the Eleven, but they had no vision of the Heavenly Companion who walked in their midst.
The disciples had been communing together, and they had much to ask Him when they reached the fa miliar retreat hallowed by so many moving memories. It evinces how greatly they needed the enlightenment of the promised Advocate that they still clung to their Jewish ideal of the Messianic Kingdom; and they asked Him : “Lord, is this the time when you restore the Kingdom to Israel ?” “It is not for you,” He answered, “to learn times and seasons which the Father has set in His own authority.” And He told them further that this and every other perplexity would be resolved when they received the grace of the Holy Spirit.
Then He bade them farewell. “He lifted up His hands and blessed them. And it came to pass that as He was blessing them He parted from them : a cloud stole Him away from their eyes.” The veil of sense closed about them, and He was no longer visible. But He was not gone. He was still with them in [ p. 494 ] spiritual presence ; and even so He is with His people evermore. He is with us now; and were our eyes opened, we would see Him.
“Jesus, these eyes have never seen
That radiant form of Thine ;
The veil of sense hangs dark between
Thy blessed face and mine.
“When death these mortal eyes shall seal.
And still this throbbing heart.
The rending veil shall Thee reveal
All glorious as Thou art.”
From the Latin
O Christ, Love’s Victim, hanging high
Upon the cruel Tree,
What worthy recompense can I
Make, mine own Christ, to Thee ?
All my life’s blood if I should spill
A thousand times for Thee,
Ah ! 'twere too small a quittance still
For all Thy love to me.
My sweat and labour from this day.
My sole life, let it be,
To love Thee aye the best I may
And die for love of Thee.
Ac. x. 41 should be rendered : “God gave Him to become manifest— not to all the people but to witnesses that were chosen before of God, even to us who did eat and drink with him (as His familiar companions in the days of His flesh) after He rose from the dead.” ↩︎