Title : The Gospel of Luke, an exposition
Author : Charles Rosenbury Erdman
Release date
: October 11, 2008 [eBook #26881]
Most recently updated: June 23, 2021
Language : English
The Gospel of Luke
An Exposition
By
Charles R. Erdman
Professor of Practical Theology
Princeton Theological Seminary,
Princeton, New Jersey
Philadelphia
The Westminster Press
1936
The Bible text printed in boldface is taken from the American Standard Edition of the Revised Bible, copyright, 1901, by Thomas Nelson & Sons, and is used by permission.
TO THE MEN WHO LONG TO BE LIKE HIM
The Gospel of Luke is the most beautiful book in the world; at least, so it has been called, and those who know it best are not likely to dispute such praise. The purpose of this little volume is to place the book in convenient form, and by an outline and brief comments to aid in focusing the thought of the reader upon the successive scenes of the gospel story. These are familiar scenes, but each review of them more vividly reveals the great central Figure as supreme among men in the matchless loveliness of his divine manhood, himself the perfect, the ideal Man.
The surpassing beauty of this book betokens the personal attractiveness of its author and the dignity and importance of its theme. It was written by Luke, “the beloved physician,” and it concerns the life and saving work of our Lord. The phrase which describes the writer as “the physician, the beloved one,” is full of significance. It was penned by Paul, when a prisoner in Rome, to his friends in distant Colossæ. It indicates that Luke was a man of culture and scientific training and that the charm of his character was so conspicuous as to be recognized by the Christian churches of Europe and of Asia. The connection in which this phrase occurs indicates that Luke was not a Jew but a Gentile by birth, and further, that he was a close companion of Paul.
To Luke's authorship is attributed not only this “Third Gospel” but also “The Acts.” He was a man of such modesty that he never mentioned his own name even when recording the stirring events in which he played so prominent a part. Nevertheless he revealed himself in every page of his writings and was evidently a man of broad sympathies, an acute observer, a careful historian, and a loyal friend.
The story of his companionship with Paul begins in the record of the apostle's second missionary journey when he was about to sail from Troas on the memorable voyage which resulted in establishing Christianity on a new continent. The two friends journeyed together to Philippi, where a strong church was founded; but while Paul continued his travels through Macedonia and Greece, Luke remained behind, possibly to care for the young converts. Seven years later when Paul was on his third missionary tour he seems to have found Luke at Philippi and to have been accompanied by him on his way to Jerusalem. When Paul was arrested and was confined for two years at Cæsarea, Luke was his companion. Later they shared together the perils of the voyage and the shipwreck on the way to Rome, and the imprisonment in the imperial city. Paul appears to have been released and then imprisoned a second time, and when he wrote his last letter, under the shadow of approaching martyrdom, the only friend to remain faithful and to comfort him in his loneliness was Luke.
As might be expected, the narrative composed by such an author is characterized by (1) unusual literary beauty; it is plainly the product of Greek culture. The divine Spirit chose and equipped a rare instrument in the poetic and refined personality of Luke and through him gave to the world that version of the gospel story which is most exquisite in style and most finished in form.
Yet Luke was not only a man of culture, he was also a Christian physician and thus a man of wide and tender sympathies, and his narrative is therefore characterized (2) by its absorbing human interest. It is a story of real life; it is suffused with emotion; it is full of gladness and sorrow, of songs and of tears; it is vocal with praise and with prayer.
It is the gospel of childhood. By its tender stories of the birth of John and of Jesus, it places an unfading halo of glory about the brow of infancy, and it alone preserves the precious picture of the boyhood of our Lord. It is the gospel of womanhood. It sketches for us that immortal group of women associated with the life of Jesus. We see Elisabeth and the virgin mother and the aged Anna, the widow of Nain, the sisters at Bethany, and the repentant sinner, the sufferer bowed down by Satan and the stranger who congratulates Mary, the company that minister to Jesus on his journeys and the “daughters of Jerusalem” weeping on the way to the cross.
It is the gospel of the home. It gives us glimpses of the family life at Nazareth, of the scene in the house of Simon, of the hospitality of Martha and Mary, of the evening meal with the two disciples at Emmaus and the picture in the parables of the importunate friend at midnight, of the woman searching the room for the lost coin and of the prodigal turning back to his father's house.
It is the gospel of the poor and the lowly; it warns against the perils of wealth and expresses sympathy and hope for those who are oppressed by poverty and want. This sympathy is sounded in the song of Mary, in the first sermon of the Saviour, in the first Beatitude, “Blessed are ye poor.” Luke also records the parables of the Rich Fool and of the Rich Man and Lazarus, and paints, with Mark, the picture of the widow offering to the Lord her two mites.
It is also the gospel of praise and of prayer, expressions of the deepest convictions and longings of the human heart. The Gospel opens with a scene in the Temple at the hour of incense and with the “Magnificat” of Mary and the songs of Zacharias and of the angels. It closes with the benediction of the ascending Lord and the thanksgiving of his joyful disciples.
Luke, however, was not only a man of culture and a beloved physician; he was also a companion of Paul and had traveled with the apostle over a great portion of the Roman world; therefore he naturally wrote a gospel characterized by (3) universal interest. Here no narrow prejudice divides race from race; a despised Samaritan stands as the supreme example of a neighbor, the angels sing of peace among men, and the aged Simeon declares that Jesus is to be a “light for revelation to the Gentiles” as well as the glory of Israel. Luke alone gives the data which link the sacred story to the secular history of the world. His outlook is unlimited. He regards the good news concerning Christ as a message which is vital to the welfare and redemption of the entire human race.
These aspects of his Gospel blend with the picture of his Lord which Luke portrays. The character of Jesus is so subtle and complex as to defy exact analysis, and yet it is evident that certain of its features, common to all, are emphasized successively by each one of the Gospel writers. Matthew depicts its majesty, Mark its strength, and John its sublimity; but Luke reveals its beauty, and paints a picture of the ideal Man, the Saviour of the world.
As to all the prime elements of perfect manhood, possibly no two persons may agree; yet none would deny that such was the manhood of Jesus, and none would question that there are two or three moral qualities which he exhibited in a superlative degree, qualities upon which Luke lays special stress.
First of all Jesus manifested matchless courage. To some interpreters this fearlessness has formed the very essence of the “manliness of Christ.” He was not a weak and nerveless preacher of righteousness, but a man of strength, of dauntless resolve, and of courageous action. The mob was eager to destroy him as he began his work in Nazareth, but his enemies quailed before his majestic presence, as “he passing through the midst of them went his way.” He was advised to flee from the realm of Herod but he flung defiance to the king, beginning his message with the words, “Go and say to that fox.” The section of ten chapters in this Gospel which describes the last journeys of our Lord opens with a deeply significant phrase, “He steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem.” Only five chapters devoted to his ministry precede, only five follow. During all the long period described in the chapters between, Jesus plainly foresaw his coming rejection and suffering and death, but fearlessly and with unfaltering step he moved onward to the cross. All the heroisms of history are dwarfed to insignificance by this incomparable courage of Christ.
More obvious still is the boundless and tender sympathy of this ideal Man. He declared in his first address that he had come “to preach good tidings to the poor: ... to proclaim release to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised” ; and as we follow in his footsteps we see how his tender heart yearned over all who suffered and were distressed; he dried the tears of sorrow; he showed his pity for the outcast and the impure; he received sinners and was entertained by publicans; he praised Samaritans and comforted the dying thief. This world has no other picture of such perfect compassion, tenderness, and love; and these are essential to true manhood.
More mysterious, but none the less real, was his constant faith. His life was lived in continual fellowship with God. In his first recorded saying he declared, “I must be in my Father's house,” and at the last he breathed out his spirit on the cross with the words, “Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.” All the intervening days of his life and ministry were filled with ceaseless prayer. On at least seven other occasions it is stated that he was praying: at his baptism, ch. 3:21; after healing the leper, ch. 5:16; before choosing his disciples, ch. 6:12; before Peter's great confession, ch. 9:18; at his transfiguration, ch. 9:29; before teaching his disciples to pray, ch. 11:1; in the first agonies of crucifixion, ch. 23:34. So, too, he taught his disciples to pray with importunity, ch. 11:5-10, with perseverance, ch. 18:1-7, and with penitence, ch. 18:9-14. Such trust in God, such sympathy, such bravery, are surely prominent among the many elements which are blended in this impressive portrayal of the ideal Man.
However, Luke has written a version of the gospel and therefore has produced much more than a picture of human perfection or the story of an ideal life. The gospel is the “good news” of salvation secured for us by our Lord; and in the narrative of Luke we behold One who was not only supreme in his manhood but was also the Saviour of the world. It was in accomplishing this redeeming work that he revealed such courage and so steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem. The salvation he secured is inseparable from the cross.
It was a salvation provided for all, even as his sympathy knew no bounds but was extended to the last and the lowest of men—to the despised publican, to the outcast sinner, to the hated Samaritan, to the crucified thief.
Then, too, as he ever trusted in his Father, so the salvation he secured to us is conditioned upon faith in himself as Redeemer and Lord, a faith which implies repentance and trust and submission and sacrifice. One must be willing to count the cost, to abandon anything which stands between self and the Master. This salvation, however, is wholly of grace, unmerited, free, provided by the Father for all who yield themselves to the loving care of his Son.
This salvation was to be proclaimed to all the nations. Those to whom it became known, and by whom it was accepted, were to become witnesses to the transforming truth. For such testimony they would require courage and wide sympathy and unfaltering faith, and in their courage and sympathy and faith they would be like their Master who by such qualities was manifested as the ideal Man as he was the divine Saviour of the world.
This preface is a perfect gem of Greek art; even in the English Version it loses little, if anything, of its literary charm. As a prologue it is regarded as unsurpassed for brevity, modesty, and dignity. However, its value lies not in its beauty but in its testimony to the veracity of the writer and to the historic worth and absolute credibility of the gospel story. The fact of inspiration should not blind us to the human means by which the Spirit of God secured accuracy in the communication of truth and in the composition of the Holy Scriptures.
Here we are admitted to the study of a great historian. We see about him his tools and his material; we are informed as to his motives and methods in work, and are told of the qualifications he possesses for his great task. First of all, he has before him many written accounts of the ministry of Christ. He does not reject these as inaccurate but regards any one of them as inadequate. By comparing and combining them he secures valuable outlines for his more complete narrative.
Then, too, he intimates that he is living and writing amidst the scenes and in the very atmosphere of the events he is recording; only recently, as he indicates, have these “matters ... been fulfilled.” Again, he has access to the testimony of men who were eyewitnesses of these events and who have been public teachers of the gospel.
Further, he assures us of the absolute accuracy with which he has investigated the incidents of the life and ministry of Christ, even from the earliest scenes; he has sifted his material and weighed the evidence and is to record only established facts.
These facts he is to relate “in order,” that is, in the sequence of time, and further still, with the system and the careful regard to proportion and to completeness which should characterize a scientific, historical composition.
Then again he dedicates the book to Theophilus whose title, “most excellent,” indicates that he is a man of rank and official position, one to whom an author would not venture to present hasty, imperfect, and inaccurate work, especially when the one addressed had been instructed already in reference to the matters related.
Thus this preface shows the supreme purpose of Luke was to confirm the belief of Theophilus, who is apparently his patron and friend, and to deepen his conviction of the truth of the gospel story. Surely, such an introduction must remind every reader that our Christian faith is based upon an impregnable foundation of historic fact.
Luke is the gospel of gladness, of praise, and of prayer, of tender, human interest, and of heavenly grace. It is fitting, therefore, that the narrative should open with a scene in the Temple at the hour of incense and with a divine promise which fills a heart with rapturous joy. This promise concerns the birth of one who is to prepare the way for the ministry of Christ, and this ministry forms the sum and substance of the gospel story.
The time was “in the days of Herod,” called “the Great,” a monster of cruelty, a vassal of Rome, who ruled the Jews with savage tyranny. The political slavery of the people was only less pitiful than their spiritual decline, for religion had become an empty form, a mere system of ceremonies and rites. However, God is never without his witnesses and his true worshipers. Among these were “a certain priest named Zacharias” and his wife Elisabeth, who lived in the hill country of Judea, south of Jerusalem. They “were both righteous before God,” not sinless but without reproach, carefully observing the moral and also the ritual requirements of the law. Yet godliness is no guarantee against sorrow or against the disappointment of human hopes, and these pious souls were saddened because their home was childless. This trial was peculiarly great among a people who regarded childlessness as a sign of divine displeasure and it was even more distressing to the hearts of the faithful who were yearning for the birth of the promised Messiah.
Twice each year Zacharias went to Jerusalem to perform for a week his sacred tasks. Finally there came to him a privilege which a priest could enjoy only once in his lifetime; the “lot” fell upon him, and he thus was chosen to enter the Holy Place at the hour of prayer and there offer incense upon the golden altar just before the veil in the very presence of God. It was the supreme hour of his life. As the cloud of perfume began to rise, true symbol of accepted petitions, an angel appeared and assured the startled priest that his supplications had been heard. For what had Zacharias then been praying—for a son, or for the salvation of his people? Were not both desires included in that supplication? As the representative of a nation, the priest hardly could have confined his petition to what was purely personal and private. Yet, as he pleaded for the coming of the Messiah, there must have been in his soul the secret yearning of the long years or the memory of that abandoned hope which he had always associated in thought with the salvation of Israel. Many a minister of Christ has a similar experience; in the very performance of his public tasks there rests on his soul the conscious shadow of some private grief.
The angel declared that the prayer for national salvation had been heard, and he gradually unfolded the contents of the divine answer; the Messiah was about to appear, and his coming was to be heralded by a son who was to be born to the aged priest. The angel spoke with great definiteness: the child would be named John; many would rejoice at his birth; he would be a Nazirite, and as such would take the vow of total abstinence from wine and of complete dedication to God; as a consequence of this dedication he would be filled with the divine Spirit and thus enabled to lead his people to repentance. He would labor in the spirit and power of Elijah, calling men to lives of natural affection and justice and preparing them for the salvation which Christ would bring.
So surprising a message was too great to be credited at once by the wondering priest. He had ceased to hope that the longing of his heart could be fulfilled. He therefore asked for a sign by which he might be assured that the blessed promise was true. The angel replied with a statement of his own majestic power and the glory of his mission and he granted to Zacharias a sign. This sign was at once a rebuke and a blessing. It rebuked the unbelief of the aged priest, yet it strengthened his faith. He was smitten with dumbness which was to continue until the promise of the angel had been realized. Zacharias would not accept the word of the Lord; he would not praise him for his goodness and his grace. Therefore, his tongue was to be silent and he was to be unable to speak until at last his lips were opened in glad thanksgiving. Unbelief is never joyous; infidelity has no songs.
However, the sign suggests supernatural power. The faith of Zacharias and also of Elisabeth will be strengthened by the very silence in their home. So when the people in the court of the Temple waited for the priest to reappear, when as he came they still waited for the usual benediction, when they found that Zacharias had been stricken with dumbness, they concluded he had seen a vision in the Temple, and he himself was assured that the messenger had come from God. In due time the promise was fulfilled; a new life came into being. Meanwhile, until it would be evident that her “reproach” for childlessness had been taken away, Elisabeth lived in strict retirement. She would not have others, by seeing her, think that she was under divine displeasure at the very time when she secretly knew that she was a special recipient of divine grace. She was jealous for the glory of her God; she delighted in her hidden fellowship with him. From the homes of such priests who can pray, and of such hearts which can trust, there ever have been coming the great prophets of the Lord.
The prediction to Mary of the birth of Jesus is recorded by Luke with marked dignity, delicacy, and reserve. It is an important record. This prediction is the crown of all prophecy and it reveals the supreme mystery of the Christian faith, namely, the nature of our Lord, at once human and divine.
The same angelic being who had spoken to Zacharias speaks again, not now to an aged and distinguished priest amidst the splendors of the Temple in Jerusalem, but to a humble maiden betrothed to a carpenter in an obscure village of Galilee. The angelic salutation, “Hail, thou that art highly favored,” has been translated less accurately, “Hail, thou that art full of grace,” and it has been misinterpreted to encourage the practice of praying to the virgin as divine. It does not mean, however, that Mary was to be a source but rather a recipient of grace; upon her God was bestowing peculiar favor. She may rightly be regarded as the most blessed among women; but only a woman still.
Mary had been startled by so strange an appearance and greeting; now she was further amazed by the announcement, “Thou shalt ... bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.” Before her marriage she was to become a mother, and she was to call her child by that significant name which signifies “Saviour” or “God is Saviour.” “He shall be great,” continued the angel, both in his person, as “the Son of the Most High,” and in his royal power, for “the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David.” This throne of David does not refer to the Christian Church or to merely heavenly or spiritual influence. It is a rule on earth which here is promised, yet it is not to be limited to one nation nor is it to be confined to one age. It is the Kingdom of the Messiah, which is to bring joy to “the house of Jacob for ever” and also to all the nations of the world— “and of his kingdom there shall be no end.”
The exclamation of Mary expressed astonishment but not unbelief: “How shall this be?” Then came the answer which is unsurpassed as a clear and sublime statement of the incarnation, “The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee;” the creative power of God was to rest upon Mary as the cloud of glory had rested upon the tabernacle of Israel and as a result the child who would be born should be in reality, and should be called, “the Son of God.” Of the truth of his promise the angel added a sign and proof in the surprising fact that Elisabeth, the aged kinswoman of Mary, was soon to be blessed with a son. This was in fulfillment of a promise made by the same angel messenger, and the marvel in the case of Elisabeth would assure Mary of the certain accomplishment of the gracious and more surprising promise to her. The reply of Mary is probably unequaled in all history as an expression of perfect faith, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.” Thus she revealed belief in the word of God and submission to the will of God. There was no doubt in her mind as to the truth of the divine promise with all that it suggested of miracle and of mystery; and there was no shrinking on her part from all that the fulfillment of this promise possibly might involve of suspicion and shame and reproach and suffering and even death. Those who believe most firmly in the promises of God, submit most patiently to his providences; they see the glory which surely will succeed the gloom. Mary was to become the mother of the Messiah, of the Son of Man, of the Saviour of the world.
The Magnificat, the lovely lyric which comes from the lips of Mary, has been sung during many centuries as one of the chief canticles of the Christian Church. Its occasion was a visit paid to her kinswoman, Elisabeth, by Mary shortly after she had received the promise of the birth of a son. Elisabeth on hearing the salutation of Mary addressed her in high spiritual ecstasy, declaring her supremely blessed among women because of the Son to be born, and wondering at her own honor in being thus visited by the mother of her Lord, by which phrase she means the mother of the Messiah; it is to be noted that the Bible does not contain the phrase “Mother of God.” Elisabeth congratulated Mary upon her faith and assured her that the promise upon which Mary relied was certain to be fulfilled.
The name of the song which Mary then sang, the Magnificat, has come from the first line in its Latin form, Magnificat anima mea Dominum . The model is that of the ancient hymn sung by Hannah when her heart, like that of Mary, was rejoicing in the promised gift of a son. The verses form a perfect mosaic of Old Testament quotations. The hymn was not addressed to Elisabeth or to the Lord; it is rather a meditation upon the mercy and grace of God.
According to the common division the song is composed of four stanzas of four lines each, except the third stanza which contains six lines. The general movement of thought seems to be from the goodness of God to Mary as an individual, to his consequent kindness to Israel as a nation.
The first stanza, or strophe, vs. 46-48, illustrates, as do those which follow, one of the chief features of Hebrew poetry, namely, the expression, in successive lines, of thoughts which are parallel or closely related. In her “soul” or “spirit” or innermost being, Mary praises or magnifies the Lord and rejoices in him as her Saviour. This salvation is not only for her people, but particularly for herself; it is not only political but also spiritual. It is to be wrought out by the gift God is granting to Mary. He has chosen her, an obscure village maiden betrothed to a poor carpenter, and has bestowed upon her such honor that all future generations will call her “blessed.” While realizing the honor she dwells most upon her unworthiness while recognizing what it may cost her, she declares her submission as a true “bondmaid” or slave of the Lord. Humility and faith could hardly be more sublime.
The second stanza, vs. 49, 50, centers the thought upon the character of God as revealed in his gracious gift. His power, his holiness, his mercy are praised. In his goodness to Mary he had shown his divine power, yet in accordance with the moral perfection of his revealed nature and in order to bring blessings to countless generations who would trust and reverence him.
In the third stanza, vs. 51-53, is an illustration of another feature of Hebrew poetry; not only is there striking parallelism, but here past tenses are used to describe future events; the results of the coming of the Messiah are stated as though already achieved. In contrast with the blessedness of those that fear the Lord, “the proud,” the rebellious, and unbelieving are pictured as “scattered” like the hosts of a defeated army; the oppressed are exalted while tyrants are dethroned; the hungry are filled and the rich are sent away “empty.” These results are to be regarded as spiritual as well as physical. Such reversals are certain to occur where Christ is accepted and those who receive blessings from him are the humble who are conscious of their need.
The last strophe, vs. 54, 55, emphasizes the faithfulness of God to his ancient promises which Mary sees fulfilled in the birth of her Son. In this saving help given to Israel, God is showing that he has not forgotten the mercy “toward Abraham and his seed” promised to the “fathers” of old. Only in Christ Jesus can be realized all the promises to Israel, all the hopes of the ages.
When the aged priest, Zacharias, had received from an angel the promise that he was to be given a son who would be called John and who would be the herald of Christ, and when he had asked for a sign to attest the truth of the prediction, he was smitten with dumbness as a rebuke for his unbelief and as a stimulus for his faith. Even when at last the promise was fulfilled, the sign was not removed and he was not able to speak until he had given a written expression of his confidence in God. This interesting incident occurred on the eighth day after the birth of John, when in the presence of their rejoicing friends the parents were about to name the child. Many supposed that the name of the father would be selected. The mother, however, intimated that the name might be “John.” When Zacharias, the father, was consulted, “he asked for a writing tablet, and wrote, ... His name is John.” There was no hesitation, no uncertainty, no question in his mind, for this name had been predicted by the angel, and Zacharias showed by his decision and firmness that he believed absolutely in the fulfillment of all that the angel had promised concerning the career of the son who was to be regarded by his fellow men as a gift of divine grace and a prophet of divine appointment. It usually happens that a public confession of faith results in new joy and in wider testimony. It was surely so in the case of Zacharias: “His mouth was opened immediately, ... and he spake, blessing God.” His thanksgiving was voiced in a hymn which, for hundreds of years, has been sung daily in Christian worship. It is indeed a Christian hymn and a hymn of the nativity; for while its occasion was the birth of John, only one stanza refers to that event; the whole burden of the thanksgiving refers to the approaching birth of Jesus and to the salvation which he is to bring.
This hymn is named the Benedictus from the first word in the Latin version. It is an ecstatic expression of gratitude to God for his boundless goodness. The poem possibly may be divided into five stanzas of four lines each; but there is a definite pause after the third of these stanzas when the thought turns from the work of Christ to the specific mission of John.
The first strophe, vs. 68, 69, speaks of the redemption of Israel as already accomplished in the gift of the Christ who is about to be born and who is described as “a horn of salvation,” that is, a manifestation of saving power. He is to appear as a son and heir of David the king.
The second stanza, or strophe, vs. 70-72, indicates that the salvation from all enemies is in fulfillment of the promises made through the prophets and cherished by the ancient fathers and embodied in the holy covenant made with Israel of old.
The third stanza, vs. 73-75, describes the nature of this salvation which was assured by the oath to Abraham; it is to be such a deliverance from political oppression as to make possible for Israel a true, priestly service of God, as a nation holy and righteous before him.
In the fourth stanza, vs. 76, 77, the singer turns to address his own son whose birth has given occasion to the song. He declares that John is to be recognized as a prophet of God whose divine mission will be to announce and to define the promised salvation as in its essence not a political but a spiritual redemption consisting in the remission of sin. John was not to be a revolutionist but a reformer. He was to call a nation to repentance that those who obeyed his message might be ready to receive the salvation of Christ.
This mission of John is linked with that of Christ as the description of the latter reaches its climax in the closing strophe. Vs. 78, 79. The source of all the blessings Christ will bring is found in “the tender mercy of our God;” the essence is a visitation of “the dayspring from on high,” when the Sun of righteousness arises upon the helpless, terrified wanderers of the night who are seated “in darkness and the shadow of death;” the result will be “to guide our feet into the way of peace.”
Such is the hymn of Zacharias, a hymn of faith, of hope, of gratitude, a song of the salvation provided by the love of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.
The story of the birth of Jesus as related by Matthew is in striking contrast with that of Luke. Matthew depicts Jesus as a King and at his birth the reigning Herod trembles on his throne and the Magi adore him, offering regal gifts. Luke represents Jesus as the ideal Man, and the story is full of human interest. It describes two obscure peasants journeying from their northern home in Nazareth to Bethlehem and there, excluded from the inn, placing in a manger their newborn babe, while the first to visit them are humble shepherds from the neighboring plain. Human interests, however, are not merely earthly interests; the story is vocal with heavenly melodies and inwoven with messages of divine meaning and grace.
Only the most recent scholarship has vindicated the historic accuracy of Luke in connecting the event with the decree of Augustus and with the enrollment under Quirinius. However, these facts are mentioned by Luke not so much to fix the date of the birth of Christ as to explain how this occurred in Bethlehem when the home of his parents was in Nazareth. Only a legal necessity would have made them willing to take such a journey at such a time, but thus it appears that the emperor of the world was concerned unconsciously in the fulfillment of divine prophecy concerning the Saviour of the world. According to the imperial decree, Joseph left Nazareth and with Mary, to whom according to Matthew he was not only “betrothed” but married, journeyed to Bethlehem, five miles south of Jerusalem, to be enrolled in his ancestral city. There is born their promised Son. Their exclusion from the inn was not due to any lack of hospitality; much less did it express hostility to Jesus; it was due simply to the crowded condition of the town. However, it is suggestive of the obscurity and discomfort and poverty of Joseph and Mary.
In view of his evident appreciation of the supreme importance of the birth of Jesus, the account of Luke is almost startling in its brevity and simplicity. However, with consummate art, after his own short statement of fact, he allows divine messengers to give the interpretation and to express the significance of the event. These messengers were angels. They appeared to a group of shepherds who were “abiding in the field, and keeping watch by night over their flock.” Out of a blaze of heavenly glory came the tidings of great joy to Israel, “There is born to you this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord.” The angel did not then disclose the larger truth, that this Christ was to be the redeemer of all men or that he was a divine Lord. However, a sign was given whereby the shepherds might be able to distinguish the child and to be assured that he was the Christ: “Ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger.” A strange sign it was; yet for us it has become a symbol full of meaning; a Redeemer who was cradled in a manger has known what it is to endure poverty and suffering and neglect, and now he can sympathize with the lowly and distressed even as he is abundantly able to save.
When the good news had been given, there suddenly swelled forth an angel chorus, singing that great hymn of the nativity which, as subsequently expanded by Christian worshipers, is named from its Latin version, the Gloria in Excelsis. As sung by the angels it is composed of two verses, each containing three corresponding notes, “glory” and “peace,” “in the highest” (heaven) and “on earth,” “God,” and “men.” This is a hymn of praise to God who in the gift of a Saviour manifests in heaven his excellence and on earth reveals his grace to men, the recipients of his favor. The result of this, however, is declared to be “peace;” in Christ alone can peace be secured—peace with God, peace for the human heart, peace between men, peace for the world.
The astonished shepherds hastened to verify the good news and they became in a real sense the first witnesses for Christ as “they made known concerning the saying which was spoken to them about this child.” It is not strange that all who heard wondered, or that Mary treasured in her heart the heavenly messages, or that the shepherds returned to their tasks with gratitude and praise, for there lingered in their memories a song which expresses still the hope of all mankind.
The incidents of the infancy of Jesus recorded by Luke not only add human interest to the story but they interpret the future career and the saving work of our Lord. Thus when on the eighth day he was named “Jesus,” a name often given to Jewish boys, it was because he was destined to fulfill all that the name implies, for he was to be the “Salvation of the Lord.”
So, too, when five weeks later he was presented in the Temple, when his mother offered for herself a sacrifice which indicated lack of wealth but not abject poverty, the real significance of the scene is set forth in the prophetic utterances of the saintly Simeon and Anna. The first of these utterances was the song of Simeon, called from the Latin form of its opening words the Nunc Dimittis ( “Now Lettest Thou Depart” ). To this devout soul it had been revealed that he should not die until he had seen the Messiah, “the Lord's Christ.” Led by the Spirit to the Temple while the parents of Jesus are there presenting their Son before the Lord, he took the little babe in his arms and sang the sweetest and most solemn song of the nativity, which, unlike the Magnificat or the Benedictus, promises redemption not only to Israel but to all the world.
“Now lettest thou thy servant depart ... in peace;” the figure of speech is full of beauty; it is the word of a faithful watchman who welcomes with joy the hour of his dismissal, for he has caught the vision of the coming One; now he is about to be sent away in the peace of an accomplished task, in the peace of fulfilled hope; for his eyes have seen the Saviour according to the promise of the Lord. The redemption which the Messiah brings, as the song continues to declare, is for all peoples; it is a light to reveal the way of salvation to the Gentiles; it is to be the true glory of the favored people, Israel.
While this salvation is provided for all, it will not be accepted by all. To the wondering mother, Simeon uttered a dark word of prophecy. The ministry of Jesus will be the occasion for the fall and the rise of many. Their attitude toward him will be a revelation of character; some will reject him and thus condemn themselves; some will speak against him, even though he is the very token and instrument of divine salvation; this opposition will reach its climax at the cross, when bitter anguish like a sword will pierce the soul of Mary. Jesus is to be the touchstone of character; wherever he is known, by accepting or by rejecting him, men will disclose their true nature; “the thoughts out of many hearts” will be “revealed.”
While Mary and Joseph were still wondering at these sublime words there appeared an aged prophetess whose long years of widowhood had been spent in continual worship; she, too, praised God for the salvation to be accomplished by the Child of Mary and she went forth to speak of him to all who like her “were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.”
Mary and Joseph, however, returned to their home in Nazareth where Jesus was to spend his infancy and early childhood. During those years of obscurity his development was normal, but unique in its symmetry and its perfection; he “grew, and waxed strong” in body, but there was just as true a growth in mind and spirit; he was “filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon him.” The Saviour of the world was to be the ideal Man.
It has been said that the boyhood of Jesus is like a walled garden from which we have been given but a single flower, but this is so fragrant as to fill our hearts with a longing to enter within the secret inclosure. We have but a single incident of his boyhood days; it is recorded for us only by Luke, a visit to Jerusalem paid by Jesus when he was twelve years old. At about this age a young Jew became a “son of the law” and began to observe its requirements, among which were the pilgrimages to the holy city to observe the sacred feasts. On this first visit to Jerusalem, Jesus was unintentionally left behind by his parents as they started on their return journey to Nazareth. At the end of the first day they failed to find him in the long caravan which was moving northward toward Galilee. The day following, Mary and Joseph returned to Jerusalem, and on the third day they discovered Jesus in the Temple in the midst of the teachers who were surprised at his knowledge of the sacred Scriptures. There was an implied rebuke in the words of Mary, “Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy father and I sought thee sorrowing?” In the reply of Jesus there was something of surprise and also of reproof, yet there were deep undertones of love, of spiritual vision, and of solemn resolve: “How is it that ye sought me? knew ye not that I must be in my Father's house?”
These are the first recorded words of Jesus and they are an index and an explanation of his entire career; for their preservation this story was recorded by Luke. If they contained a rebuke for Mary, it must have been conveyed in accents of reverence and affection; and was there not involved a delicate compliment? Jesus does not reprove his parents for seeking him, but for not seeking him in the Temple first of all; and does he not seem to have implied that his parents had taught him to love the house of God and to delight in the law of God? He was saying in effect: “Why thus did you seek me? Why did you not remember that the Temple is the very place where I should be found?”
These words are thus a revelation of the life in the home at Nazareth. It was not by a miracle or due to some divine attribute, but because of the training he had received from his pious parents, that Jesus at the age of twelve was a master of the Scriptures, and had learned to reverence and adore all that was related to them and to the worship of God. Is it not possible for parents to-day to awaken in the hearts of their children a love for the house and the Word and the will of God?
These words, further, were a revelation of the consciousness of divine sonship. Jesus already realized that in a unique sense God was his own Father, the true source of his being. He instantly corrected the words of Mary, “thy father,” which referred to Joseph, with his own words “my Father,” which referred to God. Luke depicts Jesus as the ideal Man, but always as one conscious that he was the Son of God.
Our children should learn to regard God as their Father, not in the unique sense employed by Jesus as the eternal Son, nor yet in the sense which can apply to all created beings, but as denoting that intimate relationship with God made possible for believers through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Most important of all, these words are the revelation of a firm resolve, of a great molding purpose; Jesus perceived that it was his duty to be in the house of his Father—not merely in the literal Temple, but in the sphere of life and activity of which the Temple was the great expression and symbol and sign. He had determined, that is, to devote all his thoughts and energies and powers to the definite service of God. At the age of twelve are not most children sufficiently mature to form a somewhat similar purpose and to recognize in the service of God the supreme and comprehensive duty of every life?
With this definite ideal in mind Jesus returned to Nazareth and continued to live in submission to his parents, toiling for eighteen years as a carpenter and in the quiet retirement of an obscure village receiving a training for his public career which would have been impossible amidst the formalism and the distractions of Jerusalem. His development was as natural as it was perfect; he “advanced in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men;” his bodily and mental growth were no more marked than his increasing charm and spiritual power. Such development is possible in the humblest sphere for those whose lives are yielded to the will of God.
John the Baptist was the first inspired prophet to break the silence of the centuries which had elapsed since the days of Malachi. The importance of his ministry is indicated by Luke in the minute exactness with which he fixes its date. By naming the civil and religious rulers he gives a sixfold designation of the time; then, too, it accords with the universal aspect of his Gospel, and with the genius of Luke as a historian, to link his story with secular events. Naturally he mentions first the reigning emperor, Tiberius Cæsar; he next names Pilate, the governor of Judea who attained an immortality of shame for condemning Jesus to the cross; Herod Antipas, a seducer and murderer, son of Herod the Great, is designated as ruler of Galilee; Philip and Lysanias are said to be governing neighboring provinces; as ecclesiastical rulers, Annas and Caiaphas are mentioned; while the former had been deposed some years before, he continued to share with his son-in-law the actual duties of the high priesthood, and he also shared the infamy in which their names are united. Such a list of leading spirits indicates the absolute moral and religious degeneracy of the times and the need of some one to call Israel back to the service and worship of God.
Such a messenger appeared in the person of John the Baptist who after his long discipline in the wilderness came with a definite message from God and drew out great throngs to the Jordan Valley to attend his preaching and to accept his baptism as a sign and seal of their repentance. The nature of his ministry is declared to have been a fulfillment of the prediction of Isaiah who described “one crying in the wilderness,” one sent of God to prepare the way for the coming of Christ. This preparation is pictured in terms of Oriental imagery. When a monarch was about to make a journey, a servant was sent before him to prepare the highway. Valleys needed to be filled, hills lowered, crooked places made straight, rough ways made smooth. Thus, before men would be ready to receive Christ, moral obstacles must be removed; men must repent of their sins and turn from them. Luke closes his quotation from Isaiah with the line, “And all flesh shall see the salvation of God,” which is in accord with the universal character of his Gospel.
The burden of the message preached by John was that which in all ages has awakened a response in the hearts of men: he preached sin and judgment, repentance and pardon. The tone of his message as recorded by Luke, however, was particularly severe; here he is said to have addressed the multitudes as the “offspring of vipers” and to have asked them why they were pretending to have heard a warning of wrath to come. The reason for such severity was that, while wishing to escape the impending judgment, the people were unwilling to forsake their sins. They regarded the baptism of John as a magical rite which could make impenitent men safe in the hour of judgment. John bade them show their repentance by their works and not to trust in their descent from Abraham as securing their salvation. He declared that judgment was upon them; the ax was already lying at the root of the trees and every fruitless tree was about to be “hewn down, and cast into the fire.”
To the question of the people John made it perfectly plain that by repentance he meant no mere form or ceremony, nor was the word merely an abstract theological term; the thing he demanded was plain and practical, that each man should turn from his besetting sin and should show love to his fellow man. Clothing and food were to be given to those in need, for repentance meant to turn from the sin of selfishness. Publicans or taxgatherers, who were everywhere detested because of their dishonesty and greed, were told to demand no more tribute than was appointed and lawful. Soldiers, or more exactly “men on military service,” possibly acting as local police, were told to extort no money by violence and to seek for none by false charges, and to be content with their wages. All who are to receive Christ in any age must turn from their sins. Repentance is not a mystical experience; it is plain and simple and practical. It consists in turning from greed and dishonesty and unkindness and violence and discontent, and from all that is contrary to the revealed will of God.
The coming of Christ was very definitely predicted by John. While some imagined that the prophet himself was the Messiah, John declared that the mission of Christ was so much greater than his own that he would be unworthy as a slave, to loose the latchet of his shoes. While John baptized with water, Christ would baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Water was a material element, and merely symbolized an inward change; Jesus would bring them into fellowship with a divine Person, and would exert upon their souls cleansing and transforming power. He would come, however, to punish the impenitent; he would separate the wheat from the chaff; the former he would gather into his garner, but the chaff he would burn with unquenchable fire.
The close of the career of John is introduced by Luke at this point of his narrative to prepare the way for his account of the ministry of Christ. It was actually some time after Jesus had begun his work that Herod the tetrarch arrested John and cast him into prison because he had rebuked the profligate king for his impurity and his sin. John had been a faithful messenger of God, but the world does not reverence its prophets; they are usually imprisoned, beheaded, burned, or crucified.
Why did the ideal Man, the Son of God, submit to the baptism of John, a baptism of repentance? Surely not to confess any sin of his own; but first of all to set his seal of approval upon the work of John and to attest the message which declared that repentance and confession of sin are absolutely necessary for all who are to share the salvation of Christ.
Then again by his baptism Jesus identified himself with his people, not as being sinful, but as doing what they were commanded to do and as sympathizing with them in their hatred of sin, in their distress for its burden, and in their hope and expectation of relief. Only those who sympathize can serve and save.
Then again baptism indicated that the penitent had broken with the past to begin a life of new holiness and obedience. So in his baptism Jesus was ending his quiet years of preparation in Nazareth and was about to enter upon the ministry of service and sacrifice which was to be performed in obedience to the will of his Father. It is for this reason that Luke, with the art of a skilled historian, first completed the story of John, the great forerunner, before mentioning that which in reality was the supreme incident in the career of John—his baptism of Jesus. That incident introduced Jesus to his public ministry and that ministry was to form the very substance of the gospel.
That the incident is merely introductory to his narrative, is evident also from the way in which Luke records the baptism. He does not describe the event. He merely mentions it to designate the time when Jesus saw the descending Spirit and heard the voice from heaven. The former was a symbolic indication of the power by which the work of Jesus was to be performed; the latter was a declaration that he was the Christ, upon whom rested the approval of God.
We are not to suppose that Jesus before had lacked the presence of the Holy Spirit, nor that he now assumed any new relation to his Father, but, as in baptism he had yielded himself to his appointed service, so now he was empowered for his task; as in humility he had identified himself with the sons of men, so now he was assured anew that he was the Son of God; as he had shown his sympathy with penitent sinners, he now was declared to be the sinless One in whom God was well pleased.
Thus with the followers of Christ, while all enjoy the abiding presence of his Spirit, yet, as they yield themselves anew to his service, they are filled anew with his power, they are strengthened for their tasks, and are cheered by a new assurance of their sonship and their acceptance with God. Luke alone mentions that this experience came when Jesus was in prayer. He realized that it was a time of crisis. Prayer is usually the condition of those heavenly visions and spiritual experiences which prepare us for our tasks in life.
The genealogy of Jesus given by Luke contains marked differences from that recorded by Matthew. Possibly some of these differences can be explained and may be found of real significance.
1. First of all, the genealogy is found in a different part of the Gospel. In Matthew it opens the story; in Luke it closes the third chapter. This is of course by no mere chance. The purpose of Matthew is to prove that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah, who, as the King of Israel, fulfills all the Old Testament prophecies. It is of the utmost importance that Jesus should be shown to be the Son of David and of Abraham and that the official genealogy containing this record should open the story and even precede the account of the nativity.
Luke, however, has given the significant account of the birth and infancy and career of the great forerunner, John, because of the light these throw upon the ministry of Christ. Therefore, when the career of John has been related, when the ministry of Jesus is about to be recorded, Luke gives his genealogy to emphasize the fact that the narrative concerning John has closed and the story of the ministry of Jesus is about to begin. The genealogy is thus an artistic interlude, or an important introduction. It suggests the real purpose of the writer and marks the transition from the ministry which called men to repentance to the saving work which secures salvation from sin. The gospel is not good advice but good news. We are not followers of John but of Jesus.
2. Then again, the genealogy in Matthew follows the order of descent; Luke ascends the family line from son to father. The former is the order of an official record; individuals are registered only as they are born; the latter is that of a private document compiled from the public records with a view to fixing the attention upon the particular person whose name stands at the head of the list. This is quite in accord with the literary art of Luke, who desires at this point in the narrative to center the thought upon the supreme importance of Jesus, the Saviour, of whose redeeming work he is now to write.
3. In the third place, while the names given by Luke, from Abraham to David, correspond with those given by Matthew, the names from David to Jesus differ. Some have attempted to explain the differences on the ground that Matthew gives the genealogy of Joseph, while Luke gives that of Mary. It is probably wiser to conclude that both give the genealogy of Joseph, but Matthew traces the line of royal succession showing Jesus to be the heir of David; while Luke gives the line of actual descent. This surely accords with the purpose of Matthew who ever depicts Christ as the King, and also with the purpose of Luke who is painting for us Christ as the true, the ideal Man.
4. Then, too, the genealogy in Matthew begins with Abraham, while Luke traces the line back to Adam. The former proves Jesus to be a Jew, the true son of Abraham, in whom the covenant was fulfilled. The latter reminds us that Jesus belongs to the whole human race. It makes us look beyond all national lines and remember that this ideal Man on whom Luke is fixing our thoughts is the Saviour of mankind.
5. When the genealogy closes with the statement that Adam was “the son of God,” it does indicate that Jesus was reckoned as one in the great brotherhood of man, and like all his brothers, owed his origin to God; but it does not mean to deny that he also sustained to God a relationship that is absolutely unique. The genealogy opens with the statement that Jesus was the reputed Son of Joseph; he was the legal heir of Joseph and so the promised Son of David because of the marriage of Joseph to Mary; but he was not really the son of Joseph; he was the “only begotten Son” of God.
The temptation of Jesus was the last step in the preparation for his public ministry, and for many of his followers the final discipline for service consists in such a trial as results in a new determination to live not for self but for God.
The time of the temptation was significant. It was just after Jesus had been filled with the Holy Spirit and had been assured anew of his divine sonship. Under the influence of the Spirit he was brought to the place of trial, and the temptation consisted, in large part, of the suggestion to use for selfish ends the divine powers of which he was conscious, and to forget his filial relation to his Father. While God never tempts us, in the sense of enticing us to sin, it does seem to be a part of his gracious purpose to allow us to be tested; these experiences come while we are guided by his Spirit, and the essence of these temptations usually consists in some inclination to please self in forgetfulness of our true relation to God. The place of temptation was the wilderness, and there is a sense in which the experience of moral struggle is always one of intense loneliness. On the other hand, to live in a literal desert does not free one from solicitation to sin. Wherever one may be, he can be certain of the presence and sympathy of Christ; and victory is possible through faith in him. This seems to be the supreme message of the story.
In both Matthew and Luke, three temptations are mentioned. They are probably intended to be symbolic and inclusive; and under one or the other of these enticements to evil can be grouped all the moral trials of mankind. It is to be noted, however, that the order of the temptations given by Luke differs from that of Matthew. In both accounts the first temptation is to make bread of stone; but Luke mentions as the second temptation that which is last in the account of Matthew, the temptation which offered to Jesus all the kingdoms of the world. This was a fitting climax to the testing of the King. Luke, however, mentions last the temptation of Jesus to cast himself from the pinnacle of the Temple and thus to test God. It is the temptation in the sphere of intellectual desire and comes in the subtle form of presumptuous trust. It forms a true climax in the testing of the ideal Man. The order given by Matthew is suggested by the apostle John who mentions “the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the vainglory of life.” The order of Luke takes us back to the story of Eden and to the first human sin, which was due to a love for that which was “good for food” and “a delight to the eyes” and “to be desired to make one wise.” As in Eden also, the first temptation is to doubt the goodness of God, the second to doubt his power, and the third to distrust his wisdom. The victory of Jesus, however, was secured by the triumph of his faith, and faith is still “the victory which overcomes the world.”
The first temptation, then, was in the sphere of bodily appetite; Jesus was urged by Satan to transform a stone into bread. Why not? His appetite was innocent; he possessed the ability to gratify it. The sin, however, would lie in his using divine power to satisfy his human needs. If this should have been his way of life, there would have been for him no hunger, no pain, no sorrow, no cross. He would have defeated the very purpose for which he came into the world; and anyone who makes the gratification of appetite his supreme purpose is wasting his life. The essence of the temptation, however, was to doubt the goodness of God, as Jesus showed by his reply, “Man shall not live by bread alone.” He was quoting from the Old Testament; he was declaring that as by a miracle God preserved his people of old, so now he would sustain the life of his Son. Jesus would not be driven into a panic of fear. He believed that God would supply his need and that, however strong the demand of appetite might be, the way and the will of God are certain to secure satisfaction and the truest enjoyment in life.
The second temptation was in the sphere of earthly ambition. It consisted in an offer of unlimited human power. Satan would give to Jesus all the kingdoms of the world on the condition that Jesus should bow down and worship him. The force of the temptation consisted in the fact that Jesus expected some day to rule the world. The Tempter suggested that he himself possessed such power, and that if Jesus would submit to him he would attain the desired goal of universal rule. It was a temptation to doubt the power of God and to be disloyal to him, as is shown by the reply of Jesus, “Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.”
This is a familiar form of temptation to-day. The Devil does not ask us to give up our purposes of ultimate helpfulness to others and service to the world; he only asks us to compromise with the evil to attain our goal; he insists that the end will justify the means; he intimates that in the world of commerce, or society, or politics, evil methods are so much in vogue that success can be attained only by complicity with evil. He tells us that this is his world and that we can rule only in so far as we make terms with him. For Christ the issue was clearly drawn. It was submission to Satan or loyalty to God. The latter would involve opposition to the ruler of this world and therefore would mean conflict and toil and tears and a cross; but the ultimate issue would be universal rule. The same choice opens for the followers of Christ. Unswerving loyalty is the way of the cross, but this is the way of the crown.
The last temptation was in the sphere of intellectual curiosity. It suggested to Jesus that he should see for himself what would be the experience of one who should cast himself from a great height and then, by angel hands, be kept from harm. This is the temptation to place oneself needlessly in a situation of moral peril and then to expect to be delivered by God's miraculous power. This is not faith, but presumption. Satan still seeks by this device to destroy human souls. He urges men to see for themselves, to increase their knowledge by experiences which needlessly endanger their credit, their health, and their honor, to place themselves in moral peril, to live beyond their means, to undertake tasks beyond their strength. Jesus replied, “Thou shalt not make trial of the Lord thy God.” In the path of actual duty one need not fear the most threatening danger; but one who puts himself in unnecessary peril need not expect divine help. In his own time and way, and in the path of our appointed service, God will open our eyes and give us such knowledge as we need. To seek in presumption for such knowledge while endangering our souls is to doubt the wisdom of God. Real trust preserves us from sinful presumption.
The story closes with the statement that when Jesus had secured his victory the Devil “departed from him for a season.” The life of faith is a life of repeated moral conflicts, but victory is assured to those who trust in the goodness and power and wisdom of God.
After his baptism and temptation Jesus remained for a time in Jerusalem and in Judea and then returned to Galilee where he began that ministry to which Luke devotes the next six chapters of his Gospel. Of this ministry he mentions three features: First, it was wrought in the power of the Holy Spirit; secondly, its fame extended through the entire country; and thirdly, its essence consisted in the most arresting and impressive public teaching.
The first recorded sermon of Jesus was preached in the synagogue at Nazareth, the town in which he had spent his youth and early manhood. Luke places this sermon at the very opening of his record of the public ministry of Jesus, probably because he regarded it as containing the program of that ministry, or as forming the proclamation of the saving work of our Lord.
It was a Sabbath Day. The place of worship was crowded with the relatives and friends and townsmen of Jesus. All were eager to hear one whom they knew so well, and who had attained so sudden a renown. Either at his request, or providentially, Jesus was handed the book of Isaiah to lead in the reading of the Scripture. He found the place in the prophecy where, in terms of the joy of Jubilee, the writer is describing the gladness of those who are to return from their long captivity in Babylon. When Jesus had finished the lesson he sat down, thereby taking the attitude of a public teacher. As all gazed upon him intently, he undertook to show that the prophecy was to be fulfilled by himself, claiming thereby to be the promised Messiah. The very phrase with which the prophecy begins, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,” indicates, when applied to himself, that he had been anointed, not with oil as a prophet or a priest or a king, but with the Holy Spirit as the Anointed One, or the Christ of God. As such he was “to preach good tidings to the poor,” that is, to those in spiritual as well as in physical poverty. He was to proclaim deliverance for those enslaved by sin and to establish those principles which will result in political freedom for mankind. He was “to set at liberty them that are bruised,” that is, to remove the consequences and the cruelties of selfishness and of crime. He was to proclaim the era of universal blessedness which will result from his perfected reign. Thus in these words, which combine the figures of deliverance from captivity with those of the joy of jubilee, Jesus expressed the gracious and beneficent character of his ministry.
His auditors listened in amazement, unable to resist the charm of his address or to deny the fascinating beauty of his words, but unable also to admit his claim; they received his predictions with stubborn unbelief. They expressed their incredulity and at the same time explained it by their question, “Is not this Joseph's son?” They were saying in effect: “Is not this man our neighbor, the carpenter, with whom we have all been acquainted; do we not know him and his family? Surely he cannot be the Messiah.”
The reply of Jesus was to the effect that their unwillingness to accept him was due in part to the fact that he had not wrought in their presence the miracles which marked his ministry in other places. This is what he meant by quoting the proverb, “Physician, heal thyself,” that is, “Establish your claim here as you have done elsewhere, if you expect to be received as the Christ.” Jesus also quoted another proverb to explain more fully their jealous doubts: “No prophet is acceptable in his own country.” Those most familiar with great men usually are least able to appreciate their greatness; “Familiarity breeds contempt,” because men are so apt to judge one another by false standards and by that which is accidental and external and because so frequently men do not know those whom they think they know the best. This same stupid lack of appreciation shadows human lives to-day, and makes us fail to realize the worth of our friends and the value of our opportunities, until it is too late. It even has its tragic bearing upon the present ministry of Christ; some reject him for reasons altogether superficial and foolish, thinking that they know him perfectly because they long have been familiar with his name, while in reality they fail to understand the real beauty of his person and the transforming power of his grace.
The unbelief of his auditors was turned to mad hatred as Jesus gave two examples from Old Testament history, both of which indicated that his townsmen, who knew him best, were less worthy of his saving ministry than even men of heathen nations. He even compared himself with Elijah and Elisha and indicated that as the former brought a great blessing to one who lived in Sidon and the latter to a prince in Syria, while the people in Israel were suffering for their unbelief, so the nations of the world would accept the blessed salvation of Christ while those who knew him best would suffer for their unbelief. So maddened were his hearers by this severe rebuke that they drove him from the city and tried to take his life, but he, with majestic calm and divine strength, “passing through the midst of them went his way.”
It is still true that those who have enjoyed the best opportunities for knowing Christ often reject him; but, where faith is present, broken hearts are healed as by Elijah of old and lepers are cleansed as was Naaman by the word of Elisha. Thus in this scene in the synagogue of Nazareth, Jesus indicated not only the grace of his ministry but its universal power. He came to relieve all the needs of mankind and in all the world.
The Sabbath at Nazareth is placed by Luke in sudden contrast with a Sabbath passed at Capernaum. On the former, as the story opens, Jesus was surrounded by his friends and townsmen; as it closes, they had turned into a fierce mob which was seeking his death. In the latter, as the scene opens, Jesus was faced by a demon; but as it closes, he was surrounded by an admiring throng who were eager to have him remain in their midst.
Jesus was again in a synagogue, and was awakening surprise by the character of his message. Unlike the teachers of his day, he spoke with authority instead of quoting reputed “authorities” as he unfolded the Scriptures. Suddenly the service was interrupted by the cries of a man who was possessed by an unclean spirit. Jesus rebuked the demon and compelled him to come out of the man. There can be little doubt that the evil spirit which Jesus thus controlled was an actual malign being who controlled the poor sufferer whom Jesus graciously relieved; yet such an “unclean spirit” is a type of the demoniac power of envy and of lust and of anger, and of the whole host of debasing passions from which Christ alone can give relief.
The second scene of this memorable Sabbath is in the home of Simon Peter; here by a single word Jesus relieved a poor sufferer from a severe fever. The cure was so instantaneous that the woman who had been sick immediately “rose up and ministered unto them.” It is probably true that in many homes there are those, not afflicted by the power of evil passions, who nevertheless are suffering from worry and anxiety and fretfulness and unrest and so are unable to render to others the gracious service which they might perform if they could but hear the quieting word of Christ and feel the soothing power of his touch.
The third scene is of peculiar beauty. When the sun had set a great multitude gathered around the home of Peter, attracted by the report of the miracle wrought in the synagogue. They brought with them great numbers of those who were sick or possessed by demons and Jesus healed them all. This is a picture which in reality is being reproduced to-day. Amid the shadows and mysteries of suffering and pain the Saviour is standing; about him are gathered those whom sin has stricken with its disease, the sad, the loveless, the lonely, the tempted, the hopeless, the lost. His touch “has still its ancient power.” In his mercy he is healing them all, and in joy they are going away.
The last scene of this group is at dawn the next morning. Jesus had withdrawn to “a desert place,” but the eager multitudes had found him and were beseeching him not to go from them. He reminded them, however, of the other cities which needed to hear “the good tidings of the kingdom of God.” Have all of us who have felt the healing touch of Christ something of his sympathy for those who have not yet heard the good news of his grace?
The call of his first disciples is regarded by many as opening a new period in the public ministry of Jesus. His work was now to assume a more permanent form. The growing popularity of his preaching indicated that the gospel was designed for the whole world. For such a proclamation a definite group of workers must be prepared. The growth of Christianity ever depends upon securing men who will publicly confess and follow Christ.
The scene of this call is described as being “by the lake of Gennesaret.” This charming sheet of water brings to mind so many scenes in the life of our Lord that it has been termed a “Fifth Gospel.” On its western and northern side were the cities in which most of his work was done; the eastern shores were not inhabited and thither Jesus would resort for rest.
Those whom Jesus called were fishermen, sturdy, independent, fearless. They were not strangers to Jesus nor had they been indifferent to spiritual truths. They had attended the preaching of the Baptist and had come to regard Jesus as the Messiah, but they were now called to leave their homes and their tasks and to become his constant companions and disciples.
On this occasion Jesus had borrowed the boat belonging to one of his friends to use as a pulpit and from this he had addressed the crowds. When he had finished his discourse, he gave to the four men he was about to call an impressive object lesson of the character of the work and of the great success which would attend their ministry if they would forsake all and follow him. He wrought a miracle especially impressive because it was in the sphere of their daily calling at a time and place where they were sure it was useless to fish. They were enabled by the guidance of Jesus to take such a draft of fishes that their nets were strained and their boats so loaded as nearly to sink. It was so plainly a manifestation of supernatural power that Peter felt himself to be in the presence of a divine Being and expressed the fear which all have felt when face to face with God. Jesus spoke the word which not only removed the terror of Peter but gave to him and his companions courage for all the coming years, “Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men.”
So to-day Jesus is calling men to become his disciples. Obedience may involve sacrifice, but it is certain to result in the saving of human souls.
Leprosy was regarded as the most loathsome and terrible of diseases. It existed in various forms but its invariable feature was its foul uncleanness. The leper was an outcast; he was compelled to live apart from the dwellings of men. He was required to wear a covering over his mouth and to give warning of his approach by crying, “Unclean! Unclean!” His case was regarded as hopeless; he was reckoned as dead. Loathsome, insidious, corrupting, pervasive, isolating, ceremonially and physically defiling, surely leprosy is a fitting emblem of sin; and this graphic narrative presents a parable of the power of Christ to cleanse and to heal and to restore. It is a vivid picture which Luke draws; the humble trust of the poor sufferer, his pitiful cry, the sympathetic touch of Jesus, the word of command and the instant cure. While Jesus forbade the man to arouse excitement by telling of his healing, he commanded him to report his case to the priest, that the highest religious authorities might have unanswerable testimony to the divine power of Christ, and also that the man might bring the offerings required by the Law and thus express his gratitude to God. Our Master does expect all who have felt his healing touch to testify of his grace and to show their gratitude by offering to him the service of their lives.
Such miracles could not be hid. The crowds so pressed upon Jesus that he was forced to withdraw to the desert for rest; and as the scene closed he who had startled the multitude by the manifestation of his divine power was left alone seeking help from God in prayer.
Leprosy was the symbol of the uncleanness of sin; paralysis of its impotence and pain. On the occasion of healing a paralytic, Jesus, however, did something more startling: he forgave sin. The poor sufferer had been borne by his four friends who were discouraged by no obstacles. When they were unable to enter the house where Jesus was, because of the multitudes which surrounded it, they went to the roof and let the sick man down through the tiles into the very presence of Christ. Their earnestness is a rebuke to us who make so little effort to bring our comrades within the healing influence of our Lord.
Jesus recognized the faith both of the man and of his friends and responded with an utterance which occasioned his hearers more surprise than had the opening of the roof, “Man, thy sins are forgiven thee.” No request had been made for such forgiveness, but Jesus read the heart. He saw the yearning of the sufferer for healing not only of his body but of his soul. He recognized his sorrow for the sin which had caused the sickness, and the anguish of remorse and immediately he spoke the word of pardon and of peace. Thus Jesus voiced the message which the world seems reluctant to accept. He declared that physical ills and social evils are less serious than the moral and spiritual maladies of which they are the symptoms and the results; and further, he expressed his claim of divine power to pronounce pardon and to remove guilt.
This claim at once aroused the bitter resentment of the scribes and Pharisees who were present and they began to reason: “Who is this that speaketh blasphemies? Who can forgive sins, but God alone?” Their reasoning was correct. Jesus was a blasphemer worthy of death, or else he was divine.
To prove his deity Jesus proposed an immediate test: “Which is easier, to say, Thy sins are forgiven thee; or to say, Arise and walk?” Of course neither is easier; either requires divine power. Therefore, when at the word of Jesus the man arose and started for his home, “glorifying God,” it is not strange that “amazement took hold on all, and they glorified God.”
Thus the miracles of Christ were real proofs of his deity as well as expressions of his love; they were moreover parables of his ability and willingness to deliver man from the guilt and power of sin.
Nothing could further emphasize the sympathy of Jesus than his calling a publican to be his close companion and friend. These taxgatherers were everywhere despised for their dishonesty, extortion, and greed; but Jesus chose one of them named Levi, or Matthew, and transformed him into an apostle, an evangelist, and a saint.
There must have been something admirable in the character of the man; at least there was something inspiring in his example, for as soon as he heard the clear call of the Master, “He forsook all, and rose up and followed him.”
Probably he had more to leave than any of the twelve men who became apostles of Christ. He must have been possessed of wealth. At least, as soon as he was converted, he made “a great feast in his house” and invited “a great multitude of publicans and of others” to be his guests. He had the courage of his convictions; he was not ashamed of his new Master. He was eager to have his old friends introduced to Christ.
It was on the occasion of this feast that Jesus was criticized by the Pharisees for eating and drinking with publicans and sinners. He made this most significant reply: “They that are in health have no need of a physician; but they that are sick. I am not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.” By this statement Jesus emphasized and vindicated his conduct and defined his mission. A physician enters a sick room, not because he delights in disease or rejoices in suffering, but because he desires to cure and to relieve; so Jesus companied with sinners not because he countenanced sin or enjoyed the society of the depraved, but because, as a healer of souls, he was willing to go where he was most needed and to work where the ravages of sin were most severe. He came into the world to save sinners. Their conduct distressed him, their sins pained him; but to accomplish his task he sought them out and showed his sympathy by his presence and by his healing power.
Are there any who do not need the spiritual cure he can effect? Are any “sound;” are some not “sinners” ? These questions each must answer for himself. Probably those who like the Pharisees are least conscious of their sickness are in most desperate danger. Then again, are those who know his power willing like the Master to go with his gospel to the places of greatest need?
The Pharisees were disturbed by the attitude of Jesus toward sinners. Much more were they distressed by his attitude toward the forms and ceremonies which to their mind constituted the very essence of religion. This attitude had been expressed by the failure of Jesus to require his disciples to observe the fasts which had become so prominent in the system of legalism taught by the religious leaders of the Jews. The Law of Moses prescribed no fasts. The rabbis had so multiplied them that a Pharisee could boast of fasting “twice in the week.” The disciples of John the Baptist were taught to fast frequently, not as an empty form, but to express the solemn character of the ministry of John who had come preaching “repentance unto remission of sins.” It was not strange, therefore, that the enemies of Jesus came to him with a complaint and with the question, “The disciples of John fast often, and make supplications; likewise also the disciples of the Pharisees; but thine eat and drink.” In his reply Jesus stated distinctly the view his followers should take, not only of fasting but of all religious forms: “Can ye make the sons of the bride-chamber fast, while the bridegroom is with them? But the days will come; and when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them, then will they fast in those days.” Fasting is an expression of sorrow. How absurd then would it be for Jesus' followers to fast while the heavenly Bridegroom was with them! They might express their distress thus when he should be taken away. Thus Jesus declared that fasting, like all religious rites, may be quite fitting if it is a true expression of religious feeling, but if it is a matter of form, of rule, or requirement, if it is regarded as a ground of merit, it is an absurdity and an impertinence.
Jesus added a parable which further indicates his attitude toward all the rites and ceremonies in which the Pharisees took such delight. He declared that he had not come to regulate the fasts and feasts or to amend the Jewish ritual. That would be like sewing a new patch on an old garment. This religion of ceremonies had served its purpose. Jesus had come with something, new and better. The life of freedom and of joy which he was imparting could not be bound up in the narrow forms and rites of Judaism. New wine could not be kept in old wine skins.
Christianity cannot be comprehended by any system of rites and ceremonies. It must not be interpreted as a set of rules and requirements; it must not be confused with any ritual. It controls men, not by rules, but by motives. Its symbol is not a fast but a feast, for its pervasive spirit is joy.
As reported by Luke, Jesus added a characteristic phrase indicating his tender sympathy, “And no man having drunk old wine desireth new; for he saith, The old is good.” Those who long have been accustomed to a religion of forms find it difficult to be satisfied with the religion of faith. We must be patient with them. It is not easy for them to give up the practices of childhood and it takes time for them to learn the gladness and the freedom of spiritual maturity offered to the followers of Christ.
Jesus had aroused the anger of the Pharisees by his claim to forgive sins. He had further enraged them by his treatment of sinners. But he brought their hatred to a climax of fury by his attitude toward Sabbath observance. Henceforth they sought to destroy him.
The question of the Sabbath has never lost its interest. The followers of Christ need to stand firmly by the principles set forth by their Lord. These principles are few but fundamental: The Sabbath is a day designed for worship and for rest and is to be broken only by works of necessity and of mercy.
The first of these exceptions to the required rest of the Sabbath Day was illustrated by the case of the disciples who were accused by the Pharisees of breaking the Sabbath because as they walked through the fields they picked the ripened ears and thus, according to the interpretation of their enemies, were guilty of working on the Sabbath Day. Our Lord did not deny that the Sabbath law had been broken. He merely referred his enemies to the case of David and his followers who, forced by hunger, broke the Mosaic Law in entering the tabernacle and eating the “showbread.” Jesus argued that, when necessary to relieve their hunger, his followers were also justified in disregarding the law of rest.
An illustration of the second exception to the law of absolute cessation from labor was given “on another sabbath” when in the synagogue Jesus healed a man whose right hand was “withered.” The Pharisees regarded this action of Jesus as another breach of the law of rest. Jesus defended his action on the ground that it was dictated by mercy and that work which secured relief from suffering was allowable on the Sabbath Day. He replied to his enemies by a searching question, assuming the principle that refraining from help is the same as inflicting harm. He, asked them whether they regarded the Sabbath Day as of such character as to make it right on that day to do that which on other days was wrong: “I ask you, Is it lawful on the sabbath to do good, or to do harm? to save a life, or to destroy it?”
While Jesus taught that the law of rest might thus be broken to meet the necessities of man and to show mercy to those in need or in distress, he by no means abrogated the Sabbath. He declared, however, that “the Son of man is lord of the sabbath,” by which he meant that as the representative of men he had a right to interpret the Law for the highest good of man. He was justified in relieving the Sabbath from the narrow and burdensome observances which had been bound upon it by the Pharisees and to restore it to mankind as a glad day of rest and of refreshment and of fellowship with God.
The choice of the twelve apostles marks a new and important period in the public ministry of our Lord. The deep significance of the act is indicated by Luke in his statement that Jesus passed the entire preceding night in prayer to God. One reason for his decision may have been the mad hatred of the Pharisees whose anger had now reached a murderous height. To give more assured permanence to his work Jesus saw the necessity of organizing his followers. He had been surrounded by a multitude of disciples, some of whom were his constant companions, but he now determined to appoint officers who would act as trained leaders, who would be his official messengers accredited by miraculous powers.
In all four places in the New Testament where the names of these twelve apostles are found, they are arranged in three invariable groups, possibly in accordance with their intimacy with Jesus and their real service to him. In all ages there have been among his followers such concentric circles, such inner groups, who have been blessed by peculiar intimacy with their Lord, not due to his arbitrary choice, but to their peculiar capacities for love and obedience and faith.
The first six mentioned by Luke were men who under the influence of John the Baptist had become the first followers of Christ. Other things being equal, those who have known Jesus longest are able to serve him best.
The chief place in the first group is always assigned to Simon Peter, bold, impulsive, fickle, but possessing the peculiar powers of leadership which qualified him for the place of primacy among the apostles of our Lord.
With him Luke names his brother Andrew, probably a man of less ability and strength, but one who will ever be remembered as having brought Peter into fellowship with Jesus. None can ever tell what share in the reward of a more famous worker will be enjoyed by one more obscure to whom the greater leader owes his Christian career.
The next to be mentioned are James and John, the “sons of thunder,” the courageous, loving, faithful companions who with Peter form the inmost circle of the followers of Christ. James was the first to suffer martyrdom for the sake of his Master, while John lingered longest of all the apostolic band, testifying to the cause of him who had chosen John as his closest friend, and for whose return John continued to watch and to wait.
Of the second four, the first to be mentioned are Philip and Bartholomew; the latter is supposed to be the same as Nathanael, the Israelite without guile whom Philip won as a disciple for Christ.
The next were Matthew and Thomas. The former had been a despised publican, but his training had prepared him to become a careful recorder of facts, so that after his intimate fellowship with Christ he became one of his biographers and wrote that which is numbered as the first of the Gospels. Thomas has won the reputation of being a doubting disciple. He was certainly naturally despondent and incredulous. The fact, however, that such a man became convinced of the resurrection of Christ so soon after the event is one of the most important testimonies to the reality of the fundamental fact of our Christian faith.
As to the last group, we know nothing of James, the son of Alphæus, commonly called “James the less” in contrast with James the brother of John; but it is surely a mistake to identify him with James the brother of our Lord who became the head of the church in Jerusalem and wrote the Epistle which bears his name. “Simon who was called the Zealot” was by this latter title distinguished from Simon Peter. If this title is correctly interpreted, he had formerly belonged to that fanatical party of Jews who were promoters and supporters of the revolt against Rome, which finally resulted in the destruction of Jerusalem.
Judas, the son of James, is carefully distinguished in the narrative from the traitor whose infamous name always comes last on the list of apostles and is never mentioned in Scripture without some designation of disgrace and shame. Why he should have been chosen as a follower of Christ no one can sufficiently explain, yet there must have been in him original elements of good. There was surely the possibility of development into usefulness and sainthood, but he tried to cherish the passion of greed while companying with Jesus, and the inevitable reaction was so great and rapid that he soon degenerated into a thief and a traitor. His fate serves as a warning to all the followers of Christ and his testimony to the character of Jesus has been repeated through all the years, “I have ... betrayed innocent blood.”
All of the Twelve were men of modest means and humble stations in life; they were men of moderate ability, and most of their names are still obscure; yet they were the first leaders and the real organizers of the most important society the world has known, and their names are yet to be graven on the foundations of the holy city, the light of which is to fill the earth with glory.
It might seem difficult to prove that the Sermon on the Mount is the same as this discourse which has been called by some the Sermon on the Plain. The exact relation between the sermon reported by Matthew and this great address recorded by Luke has long been a subject of debate. It is quite probable, however, that they are identical. After Jesus had chosen the twelve apostles on the summit of the mountain where he had spent the night, he descended to a level place on the mountain side and there met the multitude and delivered the sermon which holds first place among all the discourses in the world.
If this address is the same as the Sermon on the Mount, it is to be noted that each account begins with beatitudes and closes with a warning, while the main body of the discourse differs only in the aspect of truth emphasized by the two writers. In Matthew the essence of the Christian life is described as true righteousness in distinction from the formalism of the Pharisees. In Luke the essence of righteousness is found in love. Matthew was writing with Jewish Christians in mind. The Gospel of Luke was for the world and many of his readers would not have appreciated the distinction which Matthew was emphasizing. The word which would describe the sermon as recorded by Matthew is spirituality, but the substance of the Christian life as here indicated by Luke is charity.
The Beatitudes here recorded are four in number, while Matthew mentions eight or nine; but Luke adds four woes, each one of which is in striking contrast with the parallel Beatitude, vs. 20-26. The sermon begins, therefore, by pronouncing blessings upon the followers of Christ and contrasted woes upon those who reject him. Those who are declared to be blessed are the poor, the hungry, the mourners, and the despised; while woes are pronounced upon the rich, the satisfied, the joyous, and the praised. It is, of course, understood that there are spiritual implications in these different terms. Poverty, hunger, sorrow, reproach, have no merit in themselves and issue in present and eternal blessedness only when accompanied by humility, trust, and patience, and when endured for the sake of Christ. So, too, there is no wrong in riches and satisfaction and laughter and praise unless these are accompanied by the selfishness and greed and frivolity and unworthiness with which they are so often identified. By these blessings and woes the Master indicated the real character as well as the abiding blessedness of those who are his true disciples.
The burden of the discourse, vs. 27-45, sets forth the Christian life as being in essence a life of love. This sermon on love might be accompanied properly by the “hymn of love” composed by Paul, 1 Cor., ch. 13, and by the “Scripture lesson” on love written by John, 1 John 4:7-21.
First then, in place of all revenge, vs. 27-30, Jesus established the Golden Rule: “As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.” V. 31. Then, in contrast with the self-interest and desire for recompense which so often passes among men as charity, vs. 32-34, he pointed to the perfect example of God and intimated that his mercy should incline us to kindly judgments of our fellows, assuring us of the boundless liberality with which our Father will reward our unselfish love. Vs. 35-38.
The second portion of the main discussion, vs. 39-45, dwells still more definitely upon the fault of unkindly judgments to which Jesus had just referred and which constitutes such a common infraction of the law of love. A man who is unkind in his criticisms and unconscious of his own faults cannot help his fellow man; he is like a blind man trying to lead the blind, like one in whose eye there is a beam trying to help one in whose eye there is a mote. As good fruit is produced only by good trees, only out of hearts full of love can real helpfulness come.
To warn men against calling themselves Christians while they do not observe the law of love, and to encourage his disciples in faithfully keeping his commandments, Jesus concluded this sermon with the familiar figure of the two houses, founded one upon the sand and the other upon the rock. Amid the storms and tempests and floods of the time of judgment, only the latter will stand secure.
No more perfect picture of faith has been recorded than that in which Luke sketches the centurion of Capernaum who sent to Jesus the request to heal a favorite servant then lying at the door of death. This military commander, a heathen by birth, was evidently a man of the same high character as is attributed in the New Testament to all soldiers of a similar rank. It may be helpful to notice some features of his faith which was so great that our Lord “marvelled at him.” First of all, the centurion was confident that Jesus could cure, because of what he had heard concerning our Lord. This is the very essence of faith, namely belief founded upon evidence. Faith is not credulity or fancy or caprice; it is a purely rational exercise of the mind; it is reasoning from the reports of credible witnesses. The centurion had heard enough of the power and goodness of Jesus to convince him of his ability to heal. Unbelief in the face of evidence is stupidity or sin.
Again, the centurion revealed the sincerity of true faith. He had accepted light as far as this had been revealed. He had been attracted by the pure worship of Judaism and had shown his sympathy with its adherents by building for them a synagogue. When one lives in accordance with the light he has, more light is sure to break.
Then again, he revealed the humility of faith. He regarded himself as unworthy to come into the presence of Jesus to present his request; and when Jesus offered to come to his home, he sent word that he was not worthy to have the Master come under his roof.
Most explicitly of all, he expressed the trust in Christ and the dependence upon his power which characterize true faith. He said that it was unnecessary for Jesus to come to his house; as a soldier and an officer he knew what could be accomplished by a word of command; he knew what it was to obey and to be obeyed, and he had accredited to Jesus such control over the unseen powers of disease that he sent his surprising message, “But say the word, and my servant shall be healed.” It was just this aspect of his faith which so impressed our Lord, and it is such humble trust that he still regards with favor and is certain to reward. It is not strange that they “that were sent, returning to the house, found the servant whole,” or that Luke rejoiced to tell this story which reveals belief in Christ on the part of one who was found outside of Israel, a belief which was prophetic of the blessings which faith was to bring to men of all the nations in the world.
If it was the purpose of Luke to impress upon his readers the sympathy and tenderness of the Man Christ Jesus, it is easy to understand why he alone of all the evangelists records this touching story of the raising from the dead of the son of the widow of Nain. No picture could be more full of pity and compassion. Jesus had not been asked to perform the miracle; he was moved wholly by the mute appeal of human sorrow and distress. As he drew near to the gate of the little city, he met the sad procession wending its way out to the place of burial. He was touched by the tears of the lonely mother who had lost her only son; moved with deep compassion he spoke to her the word of hope, “Weep not.” Then he came near and touched the bier on which the lifeless body was being borne. It was a sign more eloquent than a spoken word. Then came the command: “Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he gave him to his mother.” In view of such miracles, possibly we dwell too exclusively upon their purpose as authenticating the mission of Jesus, or as demonstrating his divine message. These purposes are real, but we must never forget that such works were also manifestations of the nature of the ministry of Jesus and revelations of the very heart of God. Such recitals dry the tears of mourners and bind up broken hearts and inspire the despondent with eternal hope. Surely Jesus is the Lord of life and he will yet wipe away all tears from the eyes of those that trust him.
Due to the darkness of his dungeon or to the long delay of Jesus in fulfilling his cherished hopes, the mind of John the Baptist became clouded with doubt and he sent messengers to Jesus to ask whether or not he was really the Messiah whom John had declared him to be, “Art thou he that cometh, or look we for another?” John had not lost faith in God or in his promises; he believed that if Jesus were not the Messiah, the Messiah was still to come.
The Master lovingly reassured his great herald by sending back the report of the mighty works which he was accomplishing. John was already familiar with these acts but the recital must have dispelled his fears. Jesus sympathizes with us also in our hours of darkness, but his relief usually consists in reminding us of facts we already know concerning his power and love and presence and the truths of his written Word.
Jesus, however, does not praise us for our doubts; he sent to John a gentle and loving rebuke: “And blessed is he, whosoever shall find no occasion of stumbling in me.” This benediction he pronounces upon all who in spite of darkness, imprisonment, delay, and mystery still confidently put their trust in him.
It was upon this occasion when John seems to have failed that Jesus pronounced upon him unparalleled praise, declaring that “among them that are born of women there is none greater than John.” He vindicated this deliberate judgment and thereby, showed wherein true greatness lies. He spoke first of the character of John and then of his career. He praised the man and then the messenger. He described his moral and then his official greatness.
His expression as to the character of John is voiced by two questions, to each of which a negative answer of course must be given: first, “What went ye out into the wilderness to behold? a reed shaken with the wind?” Surely true greatness does not lie in the moral cowardice which bends before every breeze; quite on the contrary, John was like a rock which no storm could move.
Then there was a second question: “What went ye out to see? a man clothed in soft raiment?” Surely greatness does not lie along the line of self-gratification and indulgence. John endured all hardships and was oblivious to all human delights because he was so devoted to his divine task. Courage and consecration—these constitute prime factors in moral greatness.
The real greatness of John consisted, however, in his mission. Jesus declared that he was the messenger whom Malachi had predicted should prepare the way of the Lord. Other prophets had appeared and had predicted the coming of the Messiah. It was given to John not only to declare that the Christ would come, but to point to him and to say, “Behold, the Lamb of God! ... this is the Son of God.” No greater dignity had ever been conferred upon a human soul; and no higher privilege can now be enjoyed than that of turning the thoughts and hearts of men to Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the world. The present followers of Christ have a larger knowledge of him than was possessed by John. What their relative positions will be in the glory of the perfected Kingdom will depend upon the comparative faithfulness with which they serve their Master.
The praise of John is sharply contrasted with the condemnation of the Pharisees which Jesus now turned to express. He declared that these professed leaders were like children sitting in the market place, complaining one to another that they are willing to play neither at mock funerals nor at mock weddings, for when John came they refused to follow him because his aspect and message were too severe, and when Christ came they criticized him as being too genial, “a friend of publicans and sinners.” The trouble with the Pharisees was that they made an excuse of the demeanor of John and the conduct of Jesus for refusing what was essential in their mission and message. They were unwilling to repent at the command of John or to put their trust in Christ in response to his promise of grace and life. Thus some men are still refusing to accept the salvation which is offered because of something in Christianity which is purely external, while they fail to appreciate its true essence; but there were those in the days of Jesus, and there are those to-day who are willing to accept both the call to repentance and the offer of life, “And wisdom is justified of all her children.”
The Gospel of Luke appears to place special emphasis upon the grace and forgiveness manifested by Jesus. It alone records his sympathy with the sorrowing widow of Nain, and it is also alone in expressing the sympathy which Jesus felt for the sinful woman who anointed his feet in the house of Simon, the Pharisee. It is a picture, however, not only of the loving mercy of our Lord, but of the unbounded gratitude felt by one who truly appreciated the priceless gift of his pardoning grace.
By an unfortunate error of interpretation this woman has been confused with Mary of Magdala or with Mary of Bethany. These three persons should be, however, absolutely distinct. It is true that Jesus delivered the first of these from demoniac possession, and that the second, like the woman in this story, anointed his feet with perfume, but there is every reason for believing that of the three only this woman was reputed to be a sinner. She seems to have met Jesus on some previous occasion, to have repented of her sins, and to have received from the Lord his word of forgiveness.
It was her gratitude which gave her courage to enter unbidden into the house of Simon, where Jesus was being entertained as a guest. She had come to anoint his feet but as she beheld him, she thought again of her sins and her hot tears of penitence fell upon the feet of her Lord. She hastily unbound her hair and with it dried his feet and then poured upon them a flask of fragrant ointment. No truer expression could have been given to her gratitude and passionate devotion. The fact that Jesus allowed a woman of such notorious character to express her love for him made Simon conclude that Jesus could not be a prophet, for otherwise he would have been able to discern the nature of so depraved a woman.
By his reply Jesus showed his ability to read even the secret thoughts of his host. The words of Jesus not only answered the silent criticism of Simon but also rebuked him for his own impenitence and lack of faith. Jesus proposed to his host a parable of two forgiven debtors, illustrating the fact that gratitude depends upon the realization of the amount which has been forgiven, and then he applied this principle to Simon and to the woman whom Simon had been regarding with scorn. Jesus showed how keenly he had felt the lack of love shown him by his host, and he contrasted it with the affection shown by the woman. When he had entered the house Simon had neglected the customary service of providing a bath for his feet; the woman had washed his feet with her tears. Simon had withheld the kiss with which a host usually welcomed his guests; the woman had passionately kissed his feet. Simon had not furnished the perfume with which it was usual to anoint an honored guest; the woman had come to the house with the special purpose of pouring fragrant oil upon the feet of her Lord.
In view of the parable the message of Jesus is plain, “Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much; but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.” Jesus did not mean to say that until now she had not been pardoned, nor yet that her pardon was conditioned upon her love. He meant that her love resulted from her pardon, and his words have been rightfully interpreted thus: “I say unto thee that her many sins are forgiven, as thou mayest infer from this exhibition of her love.” The remainder of the sentence was devoted to Simon, “To whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.” The words do not prove that Simon had been pardoned; they rather indicate that his lack of love had proved his lack of penitence and so of forgiveness. Jesus then turned to the woman with a word of benediction: “Thy sins are forgiven.” He thus assured her of the pardon previously granted, but still more he vindicated her in the eyes of the guests and assured them of the new life upon which the woman already had entered. They marveled as they heard him pronouncing pardon. That is a divine function; but the ideal Man whose sympathy Luke records was likewise the Son of God. Last of all, Jesus turned to the woman with the final word of blessing: “Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.” This is a clear statement of the fact that faith had secured pardon and pardon had awakened gratitude and gratitude had been expressed by a deed of devoted love. Such a penitent can rightfully go away “into peace,” that is, to its present and continual enjoyment.
Luke writes the Gospel of womanhood. He alone records those tender incidents in the lives of Elisabeth, Mary, and Anna which are associated with the infancy of Jesus; he alone tells us of the widow of Nain whose son Jesus restored to life; of the woman bowed down by Satan but relieved by Jesus; of the penitent sinner who anointed his feet; of the domestic scene in the home of Mary and Martha; of the woman who congratulated the mother of Jesus; and of the women who condoled with him on his way to the cross. Perhaps most significant of all is the statement of Luke that as Jesus and his apostles moved about Galilee preaching the gospel, they were attended by a company of women “who ministered unto them of their substance.”
Among these women Luke mentions “Mary that was called Magdalene,” probably so designated from the town of Magdala where formerly she had lived. By this title she was distinguished from Mary the mother of Jesus, from Mary of Bethany, and from other women of this same name.
It is a cruel error to confuse her with the sinful woman of whom Luke has just been writing. Mary had suffered from demon possession, as here stated, but there is nothing in the Gospels to indicate that she had ever been a woman of notoriously evil life.
Luke also mentions Joanna, whose husband, Chuzas, had charge of the household and personal estates of King Herod, evidently then a woman of some social standing; but of her and her companions nothing further is known, excepting this important fact, that their motive in ministering to the Master was that of gratitude; they “had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities.”
This statement by Luke is brief but illuminating. It throws light upon an interesting question to which no other answer is given in the Gospels: How did Jesus and his followers secure financial support during the years of his ministry? Evidently those who had received from him spiritual help gladly supplied his temporal wants and rendered to him all needful service. Thus this passage indicates not only what Jesus did for women, but what women did for him. It suggests a question: Who can estimate how far the gifts and sacrifices of grateful women have been making possible, through the passing ages, the preaching of the gospel in all the world?
Because of its greater length and more elaborate workmanship and greater fullness of detail, this story of the sower is rightly regarded as the first parable of our Lord, even though he had previously used brief illustrations which were designated by the same name. Parables henceforth formed a prominent part of his teaching, and that he was now beginning a somewhat new method of instruction is evident from the fact that the disciples now asked him to explain his meaning, v. 9, and from the fact that he here gave the reason for the use of all his parables. This reason is twofold: these inimitable illustrations would enable those who were attentive and rightly disposed toward him to remember more easily the teachings of the Master; while to inattentive or hostile minds the meaning would be veiled. V. 10. This twofold purpose met the demands of the crisis which had arisen, due on the one hand to the increasing popularity of Jesus' teachings and on the other to the murderous hatred and dark plots of the Pharisees and scribes.
The parable of the Sower thus forms a proper introduction to all the parables for they are vehicles of truth, and our Lord here made it clear that the effect of truth depends upon the spiritual state of the hearers. This is sometimes called the parable of the Soils, for it illustrates the various states of heart found among men to whom the Christian message comes.
In some cases “the word of God,” whether preached by Christ or by his followers, falls on hearts which are pictured by the hard-trodden footpath which runs through the field of grain. No possible impression can be made. The Word finds no entrance and Satan snatches it away as a bird picks up the grain which falls by the wayside. Faith and salvation cannot result.
Other hearers are compared to the thin layer of earth which covers a ledge of stone. Seed which falls into such soil springs up most quickly because warmed by the underlying rock; but as the roots cannot strike downward, the grain soon withers beneath the scorching sun. So there are hearers who receive with joy the message of life, but when subjected to the persecution and trials which followers of Christ must endure, they quickly desert his cause.
Other hearers are compared to seed which falls where thorns are growing. This seed springs into life but it has not room for development. It is robbed by the thorns of its needed nourishment. Thus some Christians are so preoccupied by “cares and riches and pleasures” that they can bear no spiritual fruit.
There are those, however, who are like seed which fell on “good ground” and “brought forth fruit a hundredfold;” they receive the truth “in an honest and good heart” and patiently and perseveringly they produce in their lives a golden harvest of grain.
The great message of the parable is summarized in the words of our Lord, “Take heed therefore how ye hear.” V. 18. The purpose of his parables, as of all his teachings, was to give spiritual light. Those who love him and obey his word will have their understanding quickened and their knowledge increased; but one who is careless or disobedient to the truth, will lose “even that which he thinketh he hath.” It is a great privilege to hear the gospel of Christ, but it involves a great responsibility as well.
It is only from the other Gospels that we learn the exact nature and purpose of the visit paid to Jesus by his mother and brethren. Luke does not reveal the fact that it occasioned one of the most delicate and difficult dilemmas by which our Lord was ever confronted. The real purpose of these relatives was to interrupt his work. They feared that his mind was unbalanced and they wished to take him home. Should Jesus repudiate them, or should he allow his work needlessly to be interrupted? This situation Luke does not sketch, but he does state clearly the impressive message which Jesus found occasion to deliver. When Jesus was told that these relatives desired to see him, he pointed to his disciples with the reply, “My mother and my brethren are these that hear the word of God, and do it.” Thus Luke connects this incident with the parable of the Sower which he has just related. The parable shows the need of careful attention to the gospel truth, and, according to Luke's account of this incident, the same fact is emphasized, namely, the blessed result of heeding the divine Word. According to the statement of Christ, such obedience to him and such true discipleship as was shown by his followers results in a relationship with him more intimate and close than is secured by any human ties. This spiritual kinship is more vital than any relationship of blood or of nature. It results in a fellowship, at once blessed and forever abiding, which is possible for all. The reply of our Lord could not have offended his brethren even though it did contain a delicate rebuke. Only those have a right to claim relationship with him who submit to him as their Lord and are ready to do his will.
Storms were common on the surface of the little lake which Jesus so often crossed with his disciples; and storms are still frequent in the lives of his followers. To accompany the Master does not exempt us from struggles and tempests, from dark skies and angry waves. This, however, was no usual storm. Even the sturdy fishermen of Galilee, who were familiar with all the changeful moods of that inland sea, were filled with terror. Jesus at the time was quietly resting and had fallen asleep in what seemed to his followers to be an hour of greatest peril.
Their fear may have been foolish but it was wise in them to come to the Master in their moment of pressing need. They awoke him with the cry, “Master, master, we perish.” The followers of Christ are not saved from encountering storms but in the hour of peril they should be comforted by his presence and they can ever turn to him for relief. “He awoke, and rebuked the wind and the raging of the water: and they ceased, and there was a calm.” Then when he had rebuked the disordered elements Jesus turned to rebuke his followers, “Where is your faith?” He did not find fault with them for awakening him, or for crying out for help; he rebuked only their lack of trust which should have relieved them from distress of mind while he was so near and so abundantly able to save. Such a miracle must have strengthened their faith but its first effect was to fill them with wonder and with awe. Every new manifestation of his power came as a surprise to these disciples, and now for the first time they saw his control over the blind forces of nature; thus once again they felt themselves in the presence not only of a perfect Man—but of One who was divine.
The sufferings of a demoniac were so similar to those of mental disease that by many they are regarded as identical. Those who observe the distinction are faced with a further problem as to whether demon possession exists at the present day. What is most important of all is to note the exact parallel existing between the demoniacs described in the New Testament and those persons who at all times are tormented by envy and lust and anger and greed and other evil passions which dominate the human soul.
On the eastern shore of the Lake of Gennesaret Jesus was encountered by a man whose suffering and nakedness are types of the anguish and shamelessness of sin. He could not be controlled; he was dwelling among the tombs, and these, too, are pictures of the helplessness and loneliness and hopelessness which evil passions produce. Most of all it is interesting to note that while the demon cried out in dread, the man drew near to Jesus, really hoping for help. The experience was like that of those who suffer from mental disease where a dual consciousness is manifested. Likewise most of us have experienced such a conflict of desires; we have longed for liberty at the very moment when we have felt the controlling power of some passion. Some tell us that we must cease to love the sin before Christ will give us help, but this picture sketched by Luke gives a more hopeful message. It intimates that as we cry out for relief, or even before we speak, Jesus sees the heart and recognizes the longing and assures release.
Jesus asked the sufferer for his name. He wished the real man to be awakened and to be conscious of the distinction between himself and the evil spirit by which he was possessed. The reply of the demoniac was full of pathos. He declared that his name was “Legion,” the reason assigned being that “many demons were entered into him.” His case was particularly desperate; but the evil spirits realized that they stood before One whose power was absolute. Certain that they were to be expelled from the sufferer, they asked permission to enter into a herd of swine which was feeding on the mountain side. A question has often been raised as to why Jesus granted this request. Probably one reason was that the sight which followed assured the sufferer of his cure; another may have been that the destruction of the herd would give to the men of the region an arresting message both of their own peril and of the power of Christ. However, when “They went out to see what had come to pass,” they were full of terror and they requested Jesus to leave their land. They were evidently more concerned for the beasts which had been lost than for the soul that had been saved, when they saw their countryman sitting clothed and in his right mind as a disciple at the feet of Jesus. Their request was granted; our Lord never continues the gracious manifestations of his presence when these are not desired. However, he refused the request of the man whom he had healed. The latter wished to accompany Jesus as he entered the boat to cross to the other side of the lake; but Jesus bade him to remain as a witness for Christ in his own home and among his own people. It is ever the desire of the Master that the testimony of those who have known his power should be given first to those by whom they are best known.
As Jesus returned to Capernaum after curing the demoniac across the lake, he was welcomed by a great multitude in the midst of which were two sufferers for whom the Saviour showed his sympathy as he perfected their faith and relieved their distress. They were strangely contrasted in circumstances, alike only in their desperate need. One was Jairus, a man of prominence in his community, “a ruler of the synagogue,” a person of comparative wealth and power and social position, whose home for twelve years had been brightened by the presence of a little daughter, an only child, who was now lying at the point of death.
The other was a woman, poor, weak, ceremonially unclean, friendless, who for twelve years had been suffering from an incurable disease and who knew that by no human power could her life be prolonged.
As Jesus was starting for the home of Jairus this woman came up behind him, touched the border of his garment, and was instantly healed. Her faith was imperfect but it was real. She had supposed the power of Christ to be merely magical and mechanical. Jesus showed that it is inseparable from divine knowledge and love. He had felt the touch of her trembling finger. He had distinguished it from the press of the jostling throng; and now for her own sake he required the woman “in the presence of all the people” to acknowledge her cure. Jesus would have us know that faith is a dependence upon his gracious person and purpose, and also that only after public confession of our relation to him can we receive the assurance that we are saved and can hear his blessed word, “Thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.”
The faith of Jairus was likewise imperfect. It was more intelligent than the faith of the woman but it fell short of that revealed by the centurion in the same city who felt it unnecessary for Jesus to come to his house but only to speak a word and a cure would be effected. Nevertheless this faith was genuine and so Jesus strengthened it and rewarded it. The very fact that Jesus started toward his home was reassuring to the father, but his faith was tested by the delay caused in curing the woman. However, it was also strengthened by this proof of divine wisdom and power. Most terribly was his faith tested by the message which then reached him, “Thy daughter is dead; trouble not the Teacher.” Yet again, it was confirmed by the word of Jesus, “Fear not: only believe, and she shall be made whole.” As he entered the house, Jesus spoke another word which rebuked the faithless mourners and cheered the agonized parents, “Weep not; for she is not dead, but sleepeth.” He meant that in his presence and in virtue of his power death loses its reality and is robbed of its victory. Nor has the word lost its meaning and its comfort for the followers of Christ during all the subsequent years.
Jesus showed clearly what he meant as he took into the death chamber his three closest friends and the two trembling parents, as he stood before the sleeping child and “taking her by the hand, called, saying Maiden, arise. And her spirit returned, and she rose up immediately: and he commanded that something be given her to eat.” The record indicates the supreme thoughtfulness and tenderness of the Master. He took with him only three disciples for he would not have the awakened child terrified by the sight of more strangers. When the miracle had been performed he requested that the little girl should be given food; this was for her own comfort but also to break for the parents the spell of awe and terror which had been cast upon them by the presence of death, and also as a proof not only that life had returned but also that complete recovery from disease had been secured. One other command is recorded, “He charged them to tell no man what had been done.” The three disciples would be competent witnesses of the miracle but a widespread report by the parents and their friends might arouse such an outburst of excitement as to interrupt his work and precipitate a crisis before the earthly ministry of our Lord was complete.
As Jesus sent forth his twelve disciples on their first mission he was entering the closing period of his ministry in Galilee. Until now the apostles had been his companions; henceforth they were to be more strictly messengers and representatives. Jesus foresaw his approaching rejection and death, but before leaving for Jerusalem and the cross he wished to offer himself once more to the people of Galilee among whom he had long been laboring; and for this purpose he sent out the Twelve. Their circumstances and the directions given them by Jesus were peculiar to the time and occasion. However, these commands are not without application to the messengers of the Master in all ages of the world. They were given “power and authority over all demons, and to cure diseases.” Such miraculous gifts were limited to their own day and were designed as credentials of their mission. It is true, however, that those who represent Christ must ever be concerned for the mental and physical conditions of mankind, even though the great purpose is to bring a message of spiritual import. The latter was, of course, the great purpose of the apostles. They went forth “to preach the kingdom of God,” as well as “to heal the sick.”
When Christ commanded the disciples to take nothing for their journey, he did not intend to impose needless hardships or even to suggest peculiar denial. He rather intimated the principle that his heralds must not be encumbered with worldly cares and burdens and that those who proclaim his gospel may expect to be supported by those to whom the message is preached.
In advising the disciples to remain in the first home where they were properly received, he indicated the wisdom of having a fixed center for their work, of being content with their entertainment and surroundings, and of avoiding social complications which might hinder their work. They were instructed, in case they were not received and welcomed as the messengers of Christ, to show their just displeasure as they departed from the place, by shaking off the dust from their feet, an Oriental custom which in this case indicated the disavowal of any possible relationship with the enemies of their Lord.
“And they departed, and went throughout the villages, preaching the gospel, and healing everywhere.” These were the supreme representatives of the great band of heroes who have continued the work and have made known their message in all times and lands. They were prepared by the divine instruction of their Master. It has been said that there is something greater than preaching; it is to prepare preachers. Surely none were ever so trained and none ever accomplished their work so well; but it is possible for every follower of Christ to have some part in making known the gospel of his grace.
The great success of the disciples and the tremendous excitement produced by their mission is indicated by the fact that the reports of their work reached Herod the king and made him tremble on his throne. It was not that he feared what Jesus might do; it was rather because there was something in the rumor which awakened his sleeping conscience and filled him with a secret alarm and dread. “It was said by some, that John was risen from the dead.” Herod had beheaded John, but the memory of his foul deed could not be buried; now he was wondering what might be the real nature of the miracles which were being reported and of the Man in whose name they were wrought. He “sought to see” Jesus. That was mere curiosity. He probably wished to see some miracles performed. Before long an opportunity was to be given him to stand face to face with the divine Man, but it was to be on an unexpected occasion when the latter would stand before him as a prisoner, when Herod might offer him protection or release; but when the occasion came he was disappointed by the silence of the Lord and allowed him to go away to crucifixion and death. One who beheaded John need not have hoped to understand Jesus. One who violates his own conscience to-day and refuses solemn warnings to repent, need not expect that Christ will be revealed to him in his beauty and grace and saving power.
The feeding of the five thousand is the only miracle recorded by all four evangelists, in fact the only incident of the Galilæan ministry of our Lord common to them all. Here this ministry attains its climax. This was the hour of the greatest popularity of Jesus; the multitudes would have offered him a crown, but he saw before him the shadow of the cross.
The Twelve had returned weary with labor but elated by success. Jesus desired for them a season of retirement, of rest, and instruction. They withdrew to a secluded place beyond Bethsaida on the east shore of the lake; but there they were discovered by the eager multitudes. Jesus showed his infinite sympathy by cordially welcoming the crowds which had intruded upon his privacy and interrupted his plans; he gladdened their hearts with the gospel message and healed their diseases. And as the day declined he pitied their hunger and met their needs by miraculously multiplying five loaves and two fishes which the disciples had secured.
For the disciples of to-day there are serious messages in this familiar story; perhaps none is more obvious than that of the measureless compassion of Christ. With something of his sympathy we should look upon the multitudes perishing for lack of physical and spiritual food. Their call for help should not be regarded as an interruption but as a guide in shaping our personal plans. While of ourselves we are unable to give relief, yet if our all is offered to the Master, it will be multiplied marvelously by his divine power. The miracle seems to have been wrought as Jesus looked up in prayer. We must surely look to him and seek his blessing in our service. We must allow no broken fragments to be lost; some families could live on what other families waste; then, too, the followers of Christ must learn a true economy of time and talents and wealth if the Bread of life is to be brought to a famishing world.
The first clear prediction of his death was made by Jesus directly after he had heard the famous confession of Peter. The latter was occasioned by a question Jesus himself had asked, “Who do the multitudes say that I am?” The answer is exactly that given by multitudes in modern days, “And they answering said, John the Baptist; but others say, Elijah; and others, that one of the old prophets is risen again;” that is to say, a reformer, a great preacher, a messenger of God. Such an estimate of himself never satisfied our Lord and so he asked pointedly: “But who say ye that I am? And Peter answering said, The Christ of God.” This is the great affirmation concerning Christ which the world to-day needs to hear; but at that time Jesus earnestly commanded his disciples to “tell this to no man.” The message would then have been misunderstood and the disciples themselves needed first to learn the truth concerning the death and resurrection of Jesus. No man to-day is qualified to testify for Christ who does not know the meaning of his atoning death and “the power of his resurrection.”
Then Jesus told his disciples of the absolute necessity of his approaching sufferings and assured them that on the third day he would be raised up. This prediction of death must have astonished the disciples; quite as surprising was the further statement that every follower of Christ must likewise take up his cross daily, and the cross was not merely a symbol of suffering and shame; it was the instrument of death. Every Christian, therefore, must die daily to self and yield himself wholly to the service of Christ. Such self-denial and sacrifice and obedience will result in the only experience worthy of the name “life;” to refuse is to forfeit “life;” and the loss will be eternal for those who are ashamed to follow the Master now will be rejected by him when he returns “in his own glory, and the glory of the Father, and of the holy angels.” Of this future glory of the coming Christ, three of the disciples were to catch a foregleam only eight days later on the Mount of Transfiguration, and Jesus therefore adds, “There are some of them that stand here, who shall in no wise taste of death, till they see the kingdom of God.”
The transfiguration of Christ was closely associated with the predictions both of his death and of his return in glory. It prepared him and also his disciples for the former and it was a symbol and a foretaste of the latter. Just what the physical experience may have been, it is difficult to conjecture. It was not like that of Moses on Mount Sinai when his face glowed with reflected light. In the case of Jesus the glory was from within. A divine splendor shone forth irradiating the body and even the garments of our Lord.
Luke tells us that this occurred as Jesus was praying; and it is more than a mere figure of speech to say that when in prayer his followers find, in some measure, what it is to be transfigured into his likeness from one degree of glory to another by the power of his indwelling Spirit.
Jesus had been accompanied on the mountain top by only Peter, James, and John; but suddenly “There talked with him two men, who were Moses and Elijah; who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.” This, then, was the high purpose of the event; it was to interpret to the mind of Christ more perfectly the meaning of his death, and to encourage him to endure its anguish by this glimpse of the glory that would follow. It is easy to understand why Moses and Elijah should be selected for so august a conference. One had been regarded as the symbol of law and the other of prophecy, and both law and prophecy pointed forward to Calvary; and again both Moses and Elijah had received a special revelation of the grace of God, and he was to manifest his grace supremely in the death of his Son.
It is not strange that Peter longed to linger in such heavenly companionship, and in bewilderment absurdly proposed the erection on the mountain of three booths for the comfort of Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. “While he said these things, there came a cloud, and overshadowed them: ... and a voice came out of the cloud, saying, This is my Son, my chosen: hear ye him.” There was no need of detaining Moses and Elijah; if the Master remained with his disciples, that was enough. Henceforth all that the Law and the Prophets had foreshadowed would be completely revealed and embodied in Jesus Christ. Part of that revelation was made in his death; the full revelation will come when he returns in that glory of which the Mount of Transfiguration gave a foregleam.
It is not strange that artists love to paint the contrast between the picture of Jesus on the mountain encompassed by glory and of the demoniac boy surrounded by the multitudes on the plain; yet it requires no canvas or artificial color to heighten the contrast presented by the historian in his simple story. Jesus long before had learned what it was to exchange the glories of heaven for the shadows and sufferings of earth and the compassion which drew him from the skies was never withheld, even at times when he naturally might have been absorbed in thoughts concerning his coming suffering and redeeming work. He was instantly moved with tender pity as he heard the agonizing words of the father and saw the distress of the son. However, he was even more moved by the unbelief and sin and anguish and godlessness of the world which he had come to save, and of which this scene was but a symbol and a picture. “O faithless and perverse generation,” he cried, “how long shall I be with you, and bear with you?” Can it not be said reverently that the contrasted experiences of the mountain and the plain made Jesus for the moment homesick for heaven? Yet Jesus neither hesitated nor delayed in the path of duty or in the presence of human need. He “rebuked the unclean spirit, and healed the boy, and gave him back to his father.”
While all were wondering and astonished at his divine power and marvelous works, he turned to his disciples to impress upon them the dark secret which was resting on his soul. He told them that the time was near when he was to be given up to suffer and to die; “But they understood not this saying.” Here was a Man whose sympathy was tender toward all; but who sympathized with him? How often some one of his followers has borne a burden of hidden sorrow, even in the company of friends and when surrounded by admiring throngs!
This was no new dispute in which the followers of Jesus were engaged. The question was as to which of them should be the greatest in his Kingdom. There was something admirable in the discussion, for it revealed their faith. To them the Master was yet to be King of kings and Lord of lords, and they desired to have places nearest to his throne. Our conception of his Kingdom may be more correct, but if its glories were as real to us as they were to them, if we had faith enough to see this Kingdom in its real importance, we, too, might at times question what our relative places in this Kingdom are or will be.
However, Jesus rebuked them, for there is no place for pride among the followers of Christ. Our nearness to him is not won by selfish effort or granted by arbitrary decree; it is conditioned upon the humble service we may render in his name. “He took a little child, and set him by his side;” not because a child is a picture of humility—most children are self-conscious and absurdly proud—but because the care of a child is a symbol of humble service, and it was this spirit which Jesus praised. To care for a child, or for men and women who like children are in need of our help and sympathy and support, if done for the sake of Christ and in the name of Christ, is a service rendered to the Master himself and not only to him but also to his Father. The willingness to undertake such humble service is the measure of true greatness.
The mention of service in the mind of the Master reminded John of a recent incident which he felt to be quite to his credit; so “John answered and said, Master, we saw one casting out demons in thy name; and we forbade him, because he followeth not with us.” There was something admirable in the spirit and action of John. He was so devoted to Christ that he wished everyone professing his name to join the company of disciples, to live and to labor and to suffer with them. There is always something admirable in loyalty to a denomination or a sect. If one has found what he believes to be the highest form of Christian life and service, if one feels that he is treading the surest and shortest road to heaven, it is certainly commendable in him to wish others to share his peculiar blessedness.
Jesus, however, rebuked him, and said, “Forbid him not: for he that is not against you is for you.” After all, there is no place for bigotry among the followers of Christ. We may love and admire our sect or society, but we are never to stop the work of a fellow Christian however much he may differ from us. There are only two questions to ask: First, Is he casting out demons? That is to say, is he really accomplishing good? Second, Is he doing the work in the name of a divine, crucified, risen Christ? If so, “Forbid him not.” We must not expect all Christians to repeat the same creed or to enjoy the same ritual or to accept the same polity or to employ the same methods of work. We should remember the word of the Master, “He that is not against you is for you.”
The record of the last journeys of our Lord toward Jerusalem forms a unique feature in the Gospel of Luke. In the other Gospels some of these incidents are included but they occupy only one or two chapters; here, however, they fill ten chapters with events most of which are no where else related.
The direction of the journeying was first eastward through the borders of Galilee and Samaria, then across the Jordan and then southward through the region of Perea. This region is not so designated in the Bible but is described by the phrase, “beyond the Jordan,” and as most of these incidents occurred there, this period of the life of Jesus is commonly called his “Perean ministry.” Luke here emphasizes the divine prevision and at the same time the human courage of our Lord. He indicates that Jesus saw plainly his coming death and also his glorious ascension, but that he unfalteringly moved forward to the intervening agonies of the cross.
The first incident of these journeys was in a village of the Samaritans. Certain messengers had gone before to prepare entertainment for the large company which followed Jesus, but the Samaritans would not receive him; then his disciples, James and John, suggested that they should “bid fire to come down from heaven and consume them.” There was something admirable in the indignation of these disciples. The Samaritans were moved by a narrow and provincial prejudice and they were offering to Jesus a gratuitous insult. It sometimes seems that the genius for indignation has disappeared, and it is refreshing to see men who feel deeply any disrespect to Christ, any injury to his cause.
But Jesus rebuked his disciples, “And they went to another village.” There may be place for righteous indignation, but there is no place among the followers of Christ for anger, for intolerance, or for revenge. This is not a time of judgment, but of grace. It is not for us to attempt to administer vengeance, but to preach the gospel of love.
These three incidents show how carefully Jesus was sifting those who wished to become his followers and how deeply he appreciated the fact that he was passing through this region for the last time. The first of the three men with whom Jesus spoke was being swept along by his emotions, by the sight of the crowd which was following the Master, and by the thought that it would be a great privilege to be in such company. He had not for a moment realized that it might involve sacrifice and pain to become a disciple of the Master. It was for this reason that Jesus turned to him with a statement which implies a rebuke and suggests that the Master realized the thoughtlessness and rashness which were prompting this professed follower. “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the heaven have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.” Of course Jesus is eager to have men vow their allegiance to him and openly acknowledge their discipleship; but among his followers there is no place for rashness. He would have us count the cost.
In the case of the next man, when he was bidden to follow Christ, he offered an excuse, “Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father.” This was a natural request and it seemed that a tender duty made it necessary for him to decline the invitation of the Master. There seems something rather severe in the reply, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead; but go thou and publish abroad the kingdom of God.” It is evident that Jesus had looked into the heart of this man and saw that he was making a selfish excuse out of a sacred duty. If his reply was sincere, it none the less merited a reproof, for a more sacred duty than caring for the dead was laid upon him by the invitation of the living Christ. No tie, however tender, can be regarded as a sufficient excuse for refusing to become a follower of Christ. Jesus was passing that way for the last time. Prompt obedience was absolutely necessary. Those who were spiritually “dead” and who had not heard the summons of the Master could provide the needed burial; but it was possible for the one who had been called by Christ to perform a more sacred task: he could begin to proclaim the gospel of salvation and of life.
In the case of the third possible disciple, there was no carelessness; he had counted the cost; it was not his intention to make any excuse; he was sincere and definite in his intention, but he wished to delay. He was not quite certain that it was best just then to leave his family and his friends. At least he wished to delay long enough to return to his home and to bid them farewell. But Jesus rebuked him; “No man, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” Such hesitation indicates that one has not appreciated the glory and privilege involved in the call of Christ or that he still weighs against it the sacrifices it involves. He is self-condemned. There is no place for indecision among those who are to be heirs of the Kingdom of God.
The sending out of the seventy messengers who were to prepare the way for the ministry of Jesus is recorded by Luke alone. This is in harmony with the fact that only in this Gospel do we read of the extended journeys toward Jerusalem made by our Lord on the occasion of which the Seventy were sent forth. The work was for only a limited time and their office was temporary; but in his instructions to them Jesus suggested many principles of life which apply to his followers in all the ages. He first intimated the reason for their being chosen. It was because the harvest field in which they were to work was so great and the laborers so few. He intimated that before the world can receive the message which the Seventy were sent to deliver, they and their successors must earnestly pray the Lord of the harvest to send forth more laborers into the field. This is a prayer which all who serve the Master may offer earnestly and at all times. The work seems to be only begun. Our sympathy with the Master will make us yearn to see the work accomplished with more speed, which can only be possible when larger numbers of laborers are secured. V. 2.
Jesus told his messengers that as they went forth they must expect to meet with dangers. “I send you forth as lambs in the midst of wolves.” They were, however, to encumber themselves with nothing superfluous and they were to waste no time in idle ceremonies; they must journey as men who are impelled by one supreme motive. Vs. 3, 4.
As they entered a home they were to offer the peace which the gospel can give, but if rejected, they were to believe that their very message would return to them with added force. Thus our Lord signified that no word spoken for his sake is really wasted. Vs. 5, 6.
They were to continue in the home which received them, content with what was given, offering relief to those in distress and using every opportunity to proclaim the message of grace. Vs. 7-9.
Where their message was refused, and they were not received by city or town, they were to turn away, shaking off the dust of their feet, thus intimating by an Oriental symbol that they had no connection with the enemies of Christ. At no time is the reception of the gospel message universal. There are always some who refuse to accept its gracious offer. Vs. 10-12.
The thought of those who would surely reject his messengers reminded Jesus of the cities which had already rejected him, and he paused for a moment to speak solemnly of their guilty unbelief. He referred to Chorazin and Bethsaida, declaring that in the Day of Judgment it would be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon than for these cities, for even the heathen world would have repented in the face of such evidence of his divine mission as Jesus had given to the cities of Israel. He referred particularly to Capernaum, to its peculiar privileges and to its consequently greater condemnation. Jesus was stating the abiding principle that unusual opportunities involve unusual responsibilities. He emphasized the seriousness of rejecting his messengers by stating that in despising them men are really despising himself and that those who reject Jesus are rejecting his Father who sent him., vs. 13-16.
In order to complete the story of the Seventy, Luke proceeds at once to describe their return. They came back elated, with the report that even the demons were subject to them. Our Lord replied by a statement that in the overthrow of these messengers of Satan he saw the ultimate defeat of the Prince of darkness and of all the forces of evil, and he declared that he was giving to his messengers power over all that might oppose or might threaten to destroy them. Yet, he added, their chief joy should not be in their ability to perform these works of wonder, but rather in their having a part in his triumphant cause and in receiving his salvation. Vs. 17-20.
At this time our Lord himself shared in the exultation of his followers and returned thanks to the Father for what he was accomplishing through the humble messengers whom Jesus had chosen, so that the results were a manifestation of divine power. He added a striking claim which indicates that the ideal Man is likewise the true Son of God who alone can reveal the Father to men. Then lastly, as he turned to his disciples, he congratulated them upon their great privilege, assuring them that “many prophets and kings” desired to see the things which they were seeing as his servants and as the instruments of his power. He intimated something of the exalted joy which through all the coming years his followers would feel as they realized their privilege of serving such a Master, and of revealing him to men. Vs. 21-24.
The parable of the Good Samaritan was spoken to a certain lawyer who, trusting to his knowledge of the Old Testament, and of its subtle interpretations by the rabbis, came to Jesus hoping to dispute with him and to defeat him in debate. He asked Jesus this question, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He evidently thought that Jesus would prescribe some new rites or ceremonies or would in some other way disparage the Law. He was startled, then, to have Jesus reply, “What is written in the law?” This answer robbed the enemy of his own weapon. He, however, made a skillful reply, and declared that the Law is summarized in the requirement to love God and man. Jesus again replied, “Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou shalt live.” There was no shadow of evasion or deception in the statement of Jesus. Perfect love to God and to man is surely the way of life; but who can show such perfect love? Jesus came not to destroy this requirement of the Law but to reveal its complete fulfillment, to secure pardon for those who were guilty of its infraction, and to give power to those who felt their need.
The reply of Jesus not only defeated the lawyer; it smote his conscience. He realized that he himself had never fulfilled the requirement of the Law he knew so well. He therefore attempted to justify himself by limiting the sphere to which the law of love applies. This is always the experience of those who seek to save themselves while rejecting the salvation of Christ. No one in his own power can fulfill the demands of this perfect law; either we must secure aid outside ourselves and trust in a loving Saviour, or else we must in some way lessen the demands which the law makes. The lawyer suggested that it is impossible to love everyone, even though it be required to love our neighbors, and to justify himself he asked the question, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied by the story of the man, evidently a Jew, who went down the steep road from Jerusalem to Jericho and, as he passed through the narrow gorge, was beset by robbers who stripped him of his garments and his possessions and left him half dead. The first to approach this pitiful sufferer was a priest, a man whose profession and task in life would induce him to perform a deed of mercy, but in fear of thieves or in blind oblivion to the need of the wounded man, he passed by on the other side. Next came a Levite, one whose office was that of a helper to the priests, a man who supposedly would be less burdened by official duties and would have more time to extend relief; but he likewise passed by. At last came a Samaritan, a man of an alien race and of a despised religion, but he showed compassion; he bound up the wounds of the sufferer and placed him on his beast and brought him to an inn and paid for his entertainment. He showed the spirit of love. Thus Jesus indicated that our neighbor is not only one who “lives near” but one who needs our help, as well as one who helps our need. He demonstrated the truth that the law of love is not limited by rank or station or race or creed. Nor is it limited to man. One must likewise love God with all the heart, and thus he will surely love and serve the Son in whom the love of God is made perfect.
The unfailing human interest of Luke is nowhere more perfectly expressed than by this exquisite scene in the home at Bethany. It is to be regretted that it has become the occasion for endless debate as to the relative merits of Martha and Mary. Some imagine that the former was unloving but energetic and efficient, and that the latter was affectionate, but sentimental and indolent. In reality both sisters had admirable qualities; both loved the Master and longed to please him; but on this occasion Martha, in her very eagerness to serve, had overburdened herself in the preparation of an elaborate meal, while Mary, with truer intuition of what Jesus wished, “sat at the Lord's feet, and heard his word.” She knew that he desired, not for his own sake, but for theirs, to reveal himself and to deliver his heavenly message, and thus according to the fine art of hospitality, she considered first the wish of her guest and was thus doing more to entertain the Master than was her sister.
“Martha was cumbered about much serving;” she was distracted by the many things she was trying to do. It is possible for a follower of Christ to attempt too much; sometimes this is due to a sense of self-importance and of pride. It may result in such a mood of irritation and temper as was shown by Martha when in criticizing her sisters he humiliated her by rebuking her in the presence of their Guest, and by addressing the remark to him rebuked him as well, “Lord, dost thou not care that my sister did leave me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.” In his reply Jesus showed his affection by tenderly repeating her name, but he rebuked her spirit and revealed its cause, “Martha, Martha, thou art anxious and troubled about many things: but one thing is needful: for Mary hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” There was no need for an elaborate meal; but few things or one would have sufficed; yet one thing was needful, and that Mary had chosen, for while the Master does appreciate all that we undertake for him, he knows that our first need is to sit at his feet and learn his will; then in our tasks we shall be calm and peaceful and kindly, and at last our service may attain the perfectness of that of Mary when in a later scene she poured upon the feet of Jesus the ointment, the perfume of which still fills the world.
When the disciples came to the Master with the request, “Lord, teach us to pray,” they had already, for some time, been with Christ in the school of prayer, and they had been impressed by that most valuable of object lessons, namely, the example of Christ himself. If in our minds doubt ever arises as to the reality and efficacy of prayer, we need only turn to the Gospel of Luke to be reminded that our Lord spent long hours in intercession and that he prayed at every crisis in his life. Surely we shall not be misled if we follow in his steps!
What the disciples wished, however, was some special form or formula for prayer, such as John the Baptist seems to have given his followers. Jesus replied by granting them a matchless model and then by encouraging them in the assurance that prayer will surely be heard. This “Lord's Prayer,” more fully recorded by Matthew, was not intended as a form which must be used rigidly on all occasions, but as a type which should mold all prayer, however free and varied and spontaneous it may be.
The first word, “Father,” suggests the filial spirit in which all believers should draw near to God, and it intimates much of the encouragement which Jesus gave his disciples in the verses which immediately follow this prayer.
The prayer contains five petitions, two relating to the cause of God in the world, and three to personal needs of the petitioners. The first is a request that the “name” of God, his revelation, or our conception of God, be so reverenced, or so exalted, on earth as it is in heaven. The second is a parallel request, namely, that his Kingdom may come. This Kingdom is to be external, visible, glorious; it depends upon the inward transformation of individuals, but it will yet appear in a perfected social order, and in the universal reign of Christ. The next petition is for “bread sufficient for our needs,” and it implies our right to pray for all that concerns our physical welfare. We are then taught to pray for pardon, as we come to God in a spirit of forgiveness toward others; and lastly, to ask for continual protection from the snares of the Adversary and from all the powers of evil.
To encourage his disciples in such petitions Jesus gave them the story of the man whose ceaseless, almost shameless, asking secured for him the answer to his request for needed bread. Jesus implied, however, that there is, on the part of God, no such reluctance to be overcome, so that all who “ask” of him will receive what they need; if they “seek” relief he will grant it, if they “knock,” even at “midnight,” he will open the door without delay.
Further still Jesus encouraged prayer by again reminding his hearers that they were praying to a Father. Human parents reply to the requests of their children, not by mocking them or with injurious gifts, not by giving a stone when bread is asked, or a serpent for a fish, or a scorpion instead of an egg. If then, with all our imperfections and limitations, we know how to give good gifts to our children, much more can we expect our heavenly Father to give his Holy Spirit, and so all other good if lesser gifts, to them that ask him. Thus again we see that the blessed name of “Father” is the key to the lesson. If we approach him as children it will be with confidence, but also with submission, as we know that, whether he gives or withholds, his reply will be an expression of infinite mercy and of fatherly love.
The first of these two discourses, vs. 14-26, was given by Jesus in reply to the charge that he wrought his miracles by Satanic power, v. 15; the second, vs. 29-36, was an answer to the demand that he should compel his enemies to believe in him by giving them “a sign from heaven,” v. 16.
Jesus had just cast out a demon. His enemies did not attempt to deny that a miracle had been performed; but, in order to discredit him with the people, they explained the miracle on the ground that Jesus must be in league with the Devil. He replied by showing the absurdity of suggesting that the Devil was casting out devils, or “demons,” for in that case his power would be like a kingdom “divided against itself” and so certain to be “brought to desolation,” or like a house thus divided and sure to fall. Vs. 17, 18. He then turned the charge against themselves: some of their countrymen claimed the power to cast out demons; Jesus did not discuss the reality of these reputed cures but pointedly asked by what power they were effected; is it also demonic power? v. 19. Jesus then declared definitely that his miracles were being wrought by divine power and that their character was a certain proof that he was representing not the kingdom of the Devil but “the kingdom of God.” V. 20. Instead of aiding the Devil, he was despoiling him. He described the Devil as though a strong man, fully armed and guarding his goods, but Jesus himself was a “stronger than he,” and was taking away his armor and delivering his captives by miracles of grace. Vs. 21, 22. In this conflict there can be no neutrality; one must be on the side either of the Devil or of Christ. V. 23.
Jesus then rebuked his enemies by the parable of the Unclean Spirit. The demon of unbelief had once possessed the Jews, and had been manifested in the form of idolatry; it had been cast out, but it had returned with more terrible manifestations of hypocrisy, covetousness, hatred, fanaticism, and pride. Such had been the fate of the nation; and such is the experience of an individual who turns from sin and rebels against Satan but fails to accept the Lordship of Christ. The empty heart is in peril. Reformation is not regeneration. One must beware of the demon of unbelief. Vs. 24-26.
At this juncture a “woman out of the multitude” interrupted with an expression of congratulation for the mother of Jesus. In reply Jesus intimated that his mother might rightly be called “blessed,” but that the woman had missed the real point; it was a privilege to sustain to Christ such a close human and natural relationship, but better far to possess that spiritual kinship which is indicated by faith and by obedience to God. Vs. 27, 28.
Jesus continued to rebuke the unbelief of the Jews as he now turned to answer directly the demand for “a sign from heaven.” He declared that such a sign would be given, in his resurrection from the dead. This miracle would be wrought without any human intervention; it would be a direct act of God and would fulfill the conditions of “a sign from heaven;” it would be the counterpart of the miraculous deliverance of Jonah from the sea. However, the very demand for such a sign was an impertinence and an insult; it reflected discredit upon the divine character of the miracles which Jesus had already wrought. It failed to recognize the nature of his teachings, which surpassed the wisdom of Solomon and the startling message of Jonah. The eagerness of the heathen queen to hear, the willingness of the Ninevites to repent, rebuked the stubborn unbelief of the Jews who refused to accept “a greater than Solomon,” “a greater than Jonah.” Vs. 29-32.
Finally Jesus showed that their guilty unbelief was not due to lack of evidence or to the need of a new “sign,” but to their indifference and their impenitence. As a lamp is designed to light a house, and as the eye is intended to illumine the body, so the soul which is right with God possesses the faculty of spiritual sight. This sight is dimmed and destroyed by sin. The inability of the Jews to believe was not due to lack of “signs” and proofs, but to lack of sight. No amount of light will help a blind man. Those who turn to Christ in repentance and faith and love will find him to be the Light of the world, and their whole souls will become radiant with divine splendor. Vs. 33-36.
The conflict between Jesus and his enemies here reached its climax. He rebuked their hypocrisy, and pronounced upon them six solemn woes. His words are full of warning for his followers in all ages; religion ever tends to become a matter of form and ritual; hypocrisy is often unconscious; its practice is almost universal.
A Pharisee whose heart was foul with sinful thoughts wondered that Jesus had sat down to eat without first washing his hands according to the Jewish ritual. No such ceremony was required by the Law, but only by the traditions upon which the Pharisees laid such stress. Jesus declared that to wash the body while the heart is impure is as absurd as to cleanse the outside of an unclean cup or platter. He declared that God who made the body created the soul also, and that God is more concerned with the latter than with the former. He insisted that while it may be well to wash the hands, a better preparation for a meal would consist in filling the heart with love, which might be expressed in gifts to the poor. It was much more important that the Pharisee should take the hatred from his heart, than that Jesus should wash his hands. Vs. 37-41.
Hypocrisy, however, is ever concerned with external forms while disregarding realities. Therefore Jesus pronounced a woe upon the Pharisees for tithing the small garden herbs while neglecting justice toward men and love toward God, for observing some minute religious rite while breaking all the Ten Commandments. Yet he did not condemn them for caring for these trifles, but for neglecting things essential. “These ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.” V. 42. Jesus further rebuked the vanity and the desire for prominence and public recognition which is at once a mark and a cloak of hypocrisy. V. 43. He further compared the evil influence of hypocrites to the defiling contact with a grave, which is level with the ground, upon which one may unconsciously tread and so become ceremonially unclean. Men are not on their guard against those who make loud boasts of religion. V. 44.
At this juncture a lawyer interrupted Jesus with the statement that these severe denunciations seemed to include him and his associates. It was true that most lawyers were Pharisees, but they were the professional teachers of this sect, the recognized leaders of the party; and in denouncing all Pharisees Jesus seemed to include even these proud expounders of the Law. Jesus replied that religious teachers who are insincere, or who allow their religion to become a mere matter of form, are most of all to be rebuked. He pronounced upon them three woes: the first, for extracting from the Law minute and burdensome requirements which they were not careful to observe themselves. It is a grievous fault for students and scholars to make religion a matter of weariness and distaste, instead of a delight to the common people. Vs. 45, 46.
Secondly, Jesus rebuked their heartless cruelty and fanaticism. Teachers of religion are ever tempted to become bitter partisans, and even to have a share in killing the very prophets and apostles of God. The hatred of Jesus shown by his enemies was like that of their fathers who had killed the divine messengers of old. The blood of these martyrs, from the first to the last mentioned in the Hebrew Bible was yet to be required of the nation, and those who rejected Jesus would partake in the judgment as they were partakers of the crime, vs. 47-51.
Lastly, the lawyers were rebuked for keeping back the knowledge of God, by their false interpretations of Scripture and their disregard of the real spiritual needs of the people. Such teachers of religion are like men who hold the key to a sacred temple; they themselves will not enter and they keep back all who would. It is a solemn responsibility to be a professed teacher of divine truth; and to be at once a “lawyer” and a “hypocrite,” is to merit these solemn woes which fell from the lips of Christ. So enraged were his hearers that they threatened him with physical violence. Hypocrites hate to be exposed. Wise men are glad to be warned and to repent before it is too late. He who spoke these bitter words of rebuke is ready to pardon and to purify and to lead his followers in the paths of service and of peace. Vs. 52-54.
When Jesus had bitterly rebuked the public religious teachers of his day he turned to his disciples and spoke words of cheer which have strengthened his followers in all days. Such encouragement was needed; the bitter hatred of his enemies now threatened the life of Jesus, and made it evident that his disciples could expect no kinder treatment than their Lord. Then, too, Jesus had shown the special guilt of those who professed to be guides in matters of religion; his disciples therefore needed courage to continue their public witness both because of the great responsibility involved and because it would bring upon them the hatred of men. He encouraged them, first, by the assurance that the corrupting influence of the Pharisees would come to an end; their hypocrisy would be mercilessly unmasked; their power would cease; while on the other hand the witness of the disciples would not always be confined to places of obscurity but would be heard in all the world. Vs. 1-3. How truly has this prophecy been fulfilled! Compare the present influence of Hillel or Gamaliel with that of Peter or John. No one can measure the power for good possessed by the humblest witness for Christ.
Jesus further encouraged his disciples by assuring them of the loving care of God. They should look to him in reverent trust; this would give confidence and strength and free them from the fear of man. Their enemies could harm only the body; God controls the eternal destiny of souls, and to him even the body is precious, and he is concerned with the most minute details of our lives. If he notes the fall of a sparrow, he must know the peril and need of every one who is testifying for his Son. Vs. 4-7.
Then again for faithful witnesses there remain great rewards, in spite of what they now may suffer from men. As they now acknowledge Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord, so in the glories of heaven he will acknowledge them as his true and loyal warriors who merit and will share the blessedness of his triumphant reign. Vs. 8, 9. On the other hand, those who blaspheme his name by ascribing his power to a Satanic source, ch. 11:15, will be regarded as guilty of an unpardonable sin. This would not apply to such as in ignorance rejected Jesus, but to those who had full opportunity of knowing him, and who then scoffed at his claims and maliciously insulted his divine Person, and made of him an impostor and associated him with the powers of evil. V. 10.
Last of all, in spite of opposition and threats of all the earthly powers, and in the presence of the most imposing tribunals, the witnesses of Jesus never need fear, and must never allow themselves to be silenced. The Holy Spirit, whom their enemies opposed and blasphemed, would speak through them; he would teach them both how and what to say, vs. 11, 12. This promise was not designed to encourage indolence or lack of possible preparation, but to assure the Christian witness that a divine Presence would ever give him needed wisdom and strength and grace.
It is a grave responsibility to testify for Christ, but it is the duty of everyone who bears his name; and in this service he can be assured that the influence will be measureless, the protection unfailing, the reward heavenly, the sustaining grace divine.
The parable of the Rich Fool was related by our Lord to teach that riches neither form the real content nor assure the continuance of life, so that it is the sheerest folly to seek for gold while forgetting God.
A man had come to Jesus with the request, “Teacher, bid my brother divide the inheritance with me.” The reply implied that the Master regarded his work as spiritual, and that he was not willing to invade the sphere of civil law or to usurp the place of regularly appointed authorities, “Man, who made me a judge or a divider over you?”
Possibly this reply contains a message for the modern day and warns us against confusing the functions of the Church with those of the State. The sphere of the Church is spiritual, and its province is not to determine questions which are commercial and political. The Church, however, does provide and inculcate principles which are involved in all moral questions and which determine justice and right in every sphere of human life. Thus Jesus refused to “divide the inheritance,” but he pierced to the root of the request and saw that the man was neglecting the civil law and seeking the support of a religious teacher because he was moved by avarice; and it is this same “love of money” which lies at the root of most of the injustice and inequity and cruelty which burden the world to-day.
Therefore Jesus turned to the multitude with the warning: “Take heed, and keep yourselves from all covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.” To enforce his message Jesus told the story of the rich man who was heaping up goods for selfish enjoyment in future years, and who was suddenly confronted by the necessity which death brings of leaving to others all that he had amassed. His foolishness consisted in forgetting that fortune and life itself are dependent upon the will of God, and that a man really owns nothing but owes everything to God, and that the real value of life consists in the unselfish use of wealth and of opportunity according to the will of God. How his vain words, “my fruits,” “my barns,” “my grains,” “my goods,” “my soul,” are contrasted with the solemn message: “This night is thy soul required of thee.”
“So is he,” continued Jesus, “that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.” It is the sheerest folly to forget that riches neither form the real content nor assure the continuance of life; it is madness to heap up goods while neglecting God.
In addressing the crowds Jesus warned them against covetousness by speaking to them the parable of the Foolish Rich Man who trusted in his goods and forgot God; he now turned to his disciples to urge them to forget their worries by trust in God. While a Christian must not be selfishly absorbed in amassing wealth, he need not be anxious about even the necessities of life. The reason is that “the life is more than the food, and the body than the raiment,” and therefore God who gave life and made the body will surely provide food and clothing; he who did the greater will not fail to do the less.
For an example of such providential care Jesus points to the birds: without the “fruits” and the “barns” and the “goods,” which failed to prolong the life of the rich man, the ravens continue to live; “God feedeth them: of how much more value are ye than the birds!” Of course we are to be diligent and industrious and to exercise thrift and foresight; but we are not to be anxious. Worry will not prolong life; on the other hand, it is worry and not work that kills. Therefore, if anxiety shortens life, it surely will not supply the necessities of life; trust God for food. Vs. 24-26.
So, too, as for clothing; if God robes in such beautiful colors the perishable flowers of the field, will he not provide garments for his own children? To be anxious about these necessities is to imitate the heathen who know nothing of God's providential care. We show ourselves to be his children by our trust in him. Vs. 27-30.
However, while we are not to be absorbed in seeking wealth, as the foolish rich man, or to be anxious about food and raiment, as are men of the world, there is something about which we should feel a deep concern, and that is the Kingdom of God. If we seek and labor for its coming, we can be sure that our Father will supply our temporal needs. Even though at times we may be in peril and in want, we can be certain that we are to share at last the blessedness of that Kingdom. Vs. 31, 32. Therefore we should not be absorbed in gathering the goods that perish, but by deeds of sacrifice and works of charity, inspired by gratitude to God and love to men, we are to lay up “treasure in the heavens” which will never be stolen or destroyed; and as the heart always follows its treasure, our thoughts will be turned upward toward God; trust in his power and love will banish our anxiety and free us from care. Vs. 33, 34.
Our Lord had been warning his disciples against allowing their minds to be absorbed in the selfish acquisition of wealth, and against being anxious about needed food and clothing; they were to be supremely concerned about his Kingdom which would appear in glory at the time of his return. As to the events preceding this return, as to its circumstances and results, he taught them more definitely just before his death; here he simply enjoined upon them the attitude of watchfulness, implying that if his coming was occupying their thoughts they would be kept at once from worldliness and from worry, and would be diligent in serving him.
He illustrated this attitude of heart and mind by two parables, the parable of the Returning Lord and the parable of the Thief. In the former, the master has been attending a marriage, his servants are awake and clothed, the house is lighted, and all are ready to receive him. So delighted is he on his arrival to find them faithful that he is ready to give any expression to his joy; he even is willing to cause them to sit down and to partake of the banquet they have prepared for him.
The second parable illustrates the truth that as the time when a thief will come is unknown, therefore the only way to act is to be ready at all times for his approach; therefore, our Saviour added, “Be ye also ready: for in an hour that ye think not the Son of man cometh.”
The Master here as elsewhere indicated that his return was to be delayed; his absence was to be like a long night; much must transpire, much be done before he would reappear, but his followers must ever be prepared for his return. This did not mean that they were to be nervously expectant nor were they to be saying that the day of his coming was just at hand; rather they were to be at their places of duty, faithfully performing their tasks, and absorbed in the work which the Master had given them to do.
This attitude of watchfulness, and of interest in the return of Christ, should particularly characterize teachers and leaders. This is the force of the question which Peter now asked. He inquired whether all believers would share equally in the blessings of the Lord's return; would not those, like the apostles, who had been most prominent in his service receive from him a greater reward? Jesus replied that larger privileges imply greater temptations and greater responsibilities. If a Christian minister has been faithful in feeding his people with spiritual food, he will be rewarded with even higher opportunities for service; but if the long delay of his Lord's return shall make him forgetful and unmindful of its reality, if he shall use his high position selfishly or shall use his power unkindly, then when the Master appears he will be punished with the utmost severity.
The chief advantage of a religious leader lies in his opportunity for knowing more fully the teachings of Christ; his superior knowledge, therefore, will be the ground of his more terrible punishment in case of unfaithfulness; the principle is abiding and applies in every sphere. “To whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be required.”
Thus Christ taught that in the future there will be degrees and gradations both of punishments and rewards.
Jesus had been warning the crowds against the peril of selfish enjoyment and urging his followers to watch and to labor for his return and his Kingdom; but he did not want them to be deceived and to suppose that this Kingdom could be established without conflict and delay. The present age was to be one of strife and division, and the Master himself was to be their innocent cause. Some day he would return to bring justice and holiness and righteousness to complete victory, and then he would be indeed the Prince of peace.
Now, however, his coming into the world had cast upon the earth the burning brand of division and strife. This was so inevitable that Jesus had no regret that the fire was already kindled; but it would not burst into a conflagration until Jesus had been crucified, and he felt a pathetic impatience to have that dreadful experience accomplished. As Jesus emerged from that baptism of fire he would be the torch which would set the world ablaze with conflict and separation. This division would occur even in a home circle of five: father and mother would be divided against son and daughter and daughter-in-law.
Thus Christ, and specifically his cross, is now dividing the world. Happy are those who interpret his message and understand his mission and turn to him in repentance and faith!
The multitudes, however, were still unbelieving, and Jesus rebuked their stupid ignorance. He declared that they could so interpret the signs of weather as to predict correctly rain or drought, but they could not see in his words and works the proofs that he was the Christ, the Saviour of the world. However, he warned them to repent before it was too late. They would have wisdom enough to agree with an adversary while on the way to a courtroom before sentence had been pronounced, much more should they see that it was the part of wisdom to seek peace with God before the day of mercy and grace had passed.
At the very time when Jesus was urging upon his hearers their need of repentance, a report was made of a cruel slaughter of Galilæans at the hand of Pilate. It was expected that Jesus would declare the poor sufferers to have merited their fate, and that he would fall into the common fallacy of supposing that exceptional suffering is a proof of exceptional guilt on the part of men. Jesus, however, replied that temporary exemption from suffering is a mark of special grace on the part of God. All impenitent men are certain to suffer, and deserve to suffer; if judgment has not fallen the delay should be regarded as a merciful opportunity to repent.
Jesus enforced the same truth by referring to a recent calamity in which eighteen men had been crushed by the fall of a tower. Their fate was not to be regarded as a sign of their special sinfulness, but as a warning to others that they would likewise suffer unless they repented of their sins.
The Master had in mind the entire Jewish nation and he further enforced his call to repentance by the parable of the Fruitless Fig Tree. This was a true type of Israel, but also a symbol of every impenitent soul. God mercifully preserves and blesses and spares, but the day of mercy will end. The nation, as the individual, which produces no fruit of penitence and of righteousness is certain to be cut down. While the opportunity is given, repentance must be shown. “Now is the acceptable time; ... now is a day of salvation.”
A true follower of Christ will worship in public on the Sabbath Day, for this was the custom of our Lord. On one of these days he found occasion to reveal his sympathy and power by releasing a poor woman who for eighteen years had been bound by “a spirit of infirmity,” just as on such occasions his word to-day brings deliverance to souls bound by the power of sin.
It was his sympathy which prompted this act and further led him to relieve the consciences of his hearers from the burden of traditions placed upon them by false interpretations of the Law. When the ruler of the synagogue criticized Jesus, by addressing those whom the woman represented, on the ground that such healing broke the law of Sabbath rest, his hypocrisy and that of his sympathizers was unmasked by the reply that where self-interest prompted, they interpreted the Law so liberally as to allow them on the Sabbath to loose their cattle which had been bound but a few hours, while they refused to allow Jesus to relieve a daughter of Abraham whom Satan had bound for years. They were pretending to be zealous for the Law while denying its essential principle of love. Their real breach of the Law was shown both by their lack of sympathy for the woman and their hatred of Christ. Their interpretation of the Law was shown to be absurd, for it prevented an act of mercy which, on the Sabbath, was not only allowable but necessary. Jesus never intimated that he would abolish the Sabbath; he only designed to restore to it the true spirit of worship and love and liberty and joy.
In view of this gracious work of power the multitude rejoiced; and Jesus spoke the parables of the Mustard Seed and the Leaven, the former to indicate that his power yet was to extend over all the earth and the latter that it was to transform all human life. Some readers interpret the former parable as indicating the unsubstantial forms that Christianity at times assumes, and the latter the false doctrine which at times permeates the Church. Whichever interpretation one accepts, it is hardly wise to base upon it any theories as to the order of events related to the coming and Kingdom of Christ. All will agree that small beginnings and invisible forces are not to be despised or distrusted by the followers of the Christ who some day will deliver the whole suffering creation “from the bondage of corruption into the liberty of the glory of the children of God.”
This is the first in a new series of incidents on the last journeys of Jesus toward Jerusalem. He realized the seriousness of the situation. He knew that he was offering his salvation to the people for the last time, and therefore he was making an effort to reach every possible city and village with his message.
Some one among his hearers asked him the question, “Lord, are they few that are saved?” He did not reply directly but his answer implied that many Jews who expected to be saved would be lost and many Gentiles whom the Jews expected to be lost would be saved. Jesus likened the blessings of his Kingdom to a banquet served in a palace. The door into this palace is narrow, and many who are invited refuse to pass in thereby; after a time this door is shut, and then those who before have refused to enter, intreat the Master of the house to reopen it, but in vain; they are forever excluded, and are overwhelmed with remorse and chagrin. The narrow door is that of repentance and faith in Christ; the opportunity for entrance is present but not endless; those who reject Christ will be excluded from his Kingdom; among these will be many whose folly will be specially apparent. In the parable they are represented as pleading for entrance, and on the very ground which condemned them. They are pictured as saying that they had known Christ well; they had eaten in his presence and he had taught in their streets. Why, then, had they not accepted him? These privileges only increase their guilt; and the Lord refused to recognize them as his own. Thus did Jesus describe the exclusion from his Kingdom of many Jews; and he added the equally surprising statement of the reception of Gentiles: “They shall come from the east and west, and from the north and south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God.”
Thus Jesus gave a very practical turn to the question which had been asked in mere curiosity. It is not important to know exactly how many will be saved; it is for each who hears the gospel to place himself in that number, now and at any cost. It is not enough that one lives in a Christian land, and in a religious home, and possesses knowledge of saving truth; each must repent and accept Christ for himself. The sad truth is that many who, like the Jews, have the largest religious opportunities are the furthest from salvation: “There are last who shall be first, and there are first who shall be last.”
A report reached Jesus that Herod was threatening his life. This report was brought by the Pharisees who hoped that it would terrify the followers of Jesus and induce him to flee to Jerusalem where he would fall into the hands of the Jewish rulers.
Instead, Jesus sent to the king a message of defiance and irony; it has no note of insolence, but reveals the courage and indignation of a true man. “Go and say to that fox” —Jesus thus addressed Herod because he saw the craftiness of the king. Herod did not wish the disrepute of killing another prophet so soon after the death of John, but he wished his realm to be rid of one whom he regarded as a dangerous leader; so he did not arrest Jesus but tried to put him to flight. The Pharisees were asked to bear this message to the king because Jesus saw that they were one with the king in the malicious cunning of their report.
“Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures to-day and to-morrow and the third day I am perfected.” Thus Jesus declared that his time and task were divinely allotted; no king could shorten the time till the task was done. When his work was complete, then in his death and resurrection the glory and grace and power of Jesus would be made perfect. “Nevertheless I must go on my way.” Jesus was to leave Galilee and Perea, the realm of Herod, not because he feared the king, but in fulfillment of his task which would take him to Jerusalem. The explicit reference to Jerusalem was made in a tone of solemn irony, “For it cannot be that a prophet perish out of Jerusalem;” that city had a monopoly in murdering prophets; it would be quite improper for Jesus to be killed in any other place.
However, the reference to Jerusalem led Jesus to pronounce a lament of touching pathos over the city he truly loved. He saw that his rejection and death would hasten the destruction of the city. He saw its doom already hovering over it like a bird of prey. He gladly would have given his divine salvation and protection, but his people would not accept him. Now they would be left to their own defense, that is to say, to the ruin which he alone could have averted. Henceforth they would not see him in his saving power until as a suffering and repentant nation they would finally welcome his return as that of their true Saviour and Lord. How Jesus always yearns to bless and to deliver, and how often he is spurned and rejected by those who need him the most!
Luke pictures our Lord not as a severe ascetic but as a man of human sympathies and social instincts, mingling freely with his fellow men, worshiping with them in their synagogues and eating with them in their homes. No domestic scene in the life of our Lord is sketched with more detail than that of the Sabbath feast in the house of a Pharisee. Jesus is pictured as entering with the guests, noting the ranks of society to which they belong, and taking a leading part in their conversation. Yet he never for a moment forgot his mission; he seized every opportunity for delivering some needed message. Here his tones were unusually severe, for he was among persons who, while formally courteous, were in their hearts hostile to him; but he showed to all his unfailing grace, and his desire for their highest good.
While the guests were assembling Jesus saw a man suffering from disease. He knew that the Pharisees were watching him and would object to his effecting a cure upon the Sabbath Day and he therefore turned to ask whether a cure would be lawful. When they hesitated to reply, he healed the sufferer and then rebuked their hypocrisy, and warned against all insincerity in religion by reminding these formalists that they would not hesitate on the Sabbath to rescue a beast they owned; should they regard it as sinful to deliver a human being from distress? Jesus never encouraged breaking the Sabbath law, but he taught that this law must be interpreted by love.
When the guests were seated and Jesus saw how they chose for themselves the most desirable places, he took occasion to rebuke selfish ambition and to give a lesson in humility. Evidently, when Jesus advised a guest to “sit down in the lowest place; that when he that hath bidden thee cometh, he may say to thee, Friend, go up higher,” he was not merely teaching good manners or worldly wisdom, nor was he advising the pride that masquerades as humility. He was stating the great law that among his followers true lowliness and conscious unworthiness in the sight of God are the real conditions of advancement and honor; “For every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.”
Then as Jesus looked around upon the company he took occasion to teach a lesson in true charity. He told his host—and there was something of playfulness in his voice—that in selecting guests one should invite not only the rich, lest he might be so unfortunate (?) as to receive an invitation in return, but also the poor, who could not return the favor. Here again, Jesus was not giving merely rules of social hospitality; he was illustrating the great spiritual principle of unselfish motives in all deeds of kindness. We are not to confer benefits with a view to receiving benefits in return.
However, Jesus did not mean literally to forbid inviting rich guests to our homes or to insist that all feasts must be confined to paupers, but to teach that no service is to be rendered with the mere hope of personal gain. It is proper and pleasant, it may be even profitable, to entertain “friends” or “brethren” or “kinsmen” or “rich neighbors;” but in none of these cases is such entertainment a ground of merit for they may “bid thee again;” but if kindness is shown to the poor or rich simply for their good and with no thought of personal gain either present or future, the deed will not be without its reward: “for thou shalt be recompensed in the resurrection of the just.”
Possibly this reference or some similar reference called forth from one of the guests the exclamation, “Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God.” Jesus took the occasion to give the parable of the Great Supper, by which he illustrated the sinful folly of refusing to accept his offer of salvation. In this story those who were bidden to the feast at first feigned a willingness to come, but subsequently, by their refusal and their flimsy excuses, they showed their complete absorption in selfish interests and their utter disregard for their host. However, their places were filled with other guests, some of them poor and helpless, from their own city; others were vagrants from the highways and hedges beyond. Thus Jesus plainly pictured the refusal by the rulers and Pharisees of his offered salvation and its acceptance, first by publicans and sinners, and then by despised Gentiles.
There was, however, a message for each one who heard the story, and there is a message to-day for anyone who is rejecting Christ. The Pharisees, by inviting Jesus to dine, pretended to feel some sympathy for him as a prophet, while in their hearts they hated him; and the very man whose pious and sentimental remark about “the kingdom of God” occasioned the parable, was unwilling to accept the invitation to “eat bread in the kingdom of God” which Jesus was presenting.
So there are those to-day who show an outward respect for Christian truth and talk sentimentally about the Kingdom of God, who, however, are so absorbed in selfish interests and have so little real love for God that they refuse the offer of salvation, while social outcasts and despised heathen gladly accept the invitation to life and divine fellowship and eternal joy.
As Jesus was journeying on toward Jerusalem the attending crowds were increasing in size and in excitement. The people imagined that he was about to establish a kingdom in pomp and splendor and power, and in these glories they expected to share. To remove the misunderstanding, Jesus turned to declare the true conditions of discipleship. His followers must expect sacrifice and suffering and be willing to part with all they possessed, even with life itself. When he declared that they must hate their kindred and their own lives, he of course meant that they must love them less than they loved him, regarding them with aversion only in so far as they were opposed to him or stood in the way of his service. To be his disciple one must be willing to “bear his own cross,” which was a symbol of suffering and of death; one must continually yield his will to the will of Christ, no matter what hardship or loss might be involved.
Jesus did not wish to discourage men from following him, but warned them first to count the cost. This he illustrated by referring to the folly of laying the foundation for a building without first estimating the entire expense and one's ability to meet it; he also stated, as a further illustration, the rashness of entering a war without first calculating what sacrifices must be made to win. Jesus did not mean that it is better not to begin the Christian life than to begin and fail, but that it is not wise even to begin unless one first realizes that it involves a readiness to renounce everything which the service of Christ may demand. “So therefore whosoever he be of you that renounceth not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple.”
Nothing could be more useless than a worldly and selfish and willful follower of Christ; he is like salt that has lost its savor; he lacks the very essence of discipleship; he can be of no possible service to his Lord.
The precious and matchless parable of the Prodigal Son belongs naturally to Luke. Its literary charm, its tender beauty, its deep human interest, its breadth of sympathy, its perfect picture of the grace and love of God, all are in peculiar accord with the purpose and genius of this Gospel.
The parable is linked with two others, the teachings of which it includes and completes: the parables of the Lost Sheep and of the Lost Coin. The occasion of all three parables was the censure passed by the Pharisees upon Jesus because of his association with social outcasts and his cordial welcome to penitent sinners. Jesus rebuked his enemies by showing that it is natural to rejoice in the recovery of a lost sheep or a lost coin or a lost son: much more, then, must God rejoice in the recovery of a lost soul. Evidently they who fail to share his joy must be out of sympathy and fellowship with him.
The first parable reveals the love of God in depicting his compassion for the distress and helplessness of the sinner. The second shows how precious a lost soul is in the sight of the loving God. Both of them picture his yearning and patient effort for the recovery of the sinner and his abounding joy in the restoration of the lost. The statement that “there shall be joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine righteous persons, who need no repentance,” is not to be interpreted too literally. It does not mean that God finds more satisfaction in a repentant sinner than in a sinless saint. Jesus was here referring definitely to the penitent publicans and to the self-righteous Pharisees. God did not take delight in the sins of the former, nor did he regard the state of the latter as perfect, even taking the Pharisees at their best and regarding them as faithful to the laws of God. Whatever its motive, morality is always better than lawlessness and impurity. However, a repentant sinner who understands the grace and mercy of God is always more pleasing to him than the Pharisee, proud, critical, and unloving, however correct he may be in his moral behavior.
This truth is made more plain in the parable of the Prodigal Son. Here we have perfectly described the experience of the repentant sinner and also the unsympathetic attitude of the disdainful Pharisee. The first is represented in the story by the prodigal and the second by the conduct of his elder brother.
In describing the waywardness of this younger son, Jesus gave a complete picture of the character and consequences of sin. Some have thought that the parable of the Lost Sheep indicates that sin is due in part to ignorance and folly and that the parable of the Lost Coin shows that it may be occasioned by misfortune or accident. The parable of the Prodigal Son, however, shows that it is usually due to willful choice and to a desire for indulgence. Its results are sketched in appalling colors. We are shown all its disillusion, suffering, slavery, and despair. As a picture of the inevitable consequences of sin, no touch could be added to the scene of the prodigal in the far country when he had spent all, when the famine had arisen, when he had sold himself to feed swine and was unable to be satisfied even with the coarse food he was providing for beasts.
Nor is there any more beautiful picture of repentance than was drawn when the Master described the prodigal as “he came to himself,” his sin had not been mere folly, it had been madness. He remembered a former time of joy and plenty in his early home. He realized his present desperate need; he resolved to arise and go to his father. Most of all, he saw that his offense had been not only against a loving, earthly parent but against God, and that he was wholly undeserving of fellowship with his father. Repentance is not only sorrow for sin; it is an acknowledgment that the offense has been committed against a holy God; it is a change of heart toward him, and a resolution for a new life which manifests itself in definite action. “He arose, and came to his father.”
Strictly speaking, this is the end of the parable of the Prodigal Son. In another sense the most beautiful part immediately follows. It is a description of the matchless love shown by God to every repentant soul. The father had never ceased to love the prodigal or to hope and yearn for his return. He had been eagerly looking for his wayward son. The first sight of the prodigal filled his heart with compassion; he “ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.” The prodigal was ready to confess his fault, but the father scarcely heard his words as he commanded the servants to “bring forth quickly the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: and bring the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat, and make merry.” It is a picture not only of pardon but of complete restoration. It assures the sinner that as he turns to God he will be received into the closest fellowship of a son and heir and that his return will give joy to the heart of God who will regard him as one that “was dead, and is alive again,” as one who “was lost, and is found.”
The picture of the elder son is exquisitely sketched. It was unquestionably intended to describe the loveless Pharisees who envied the joy of the repentant publicans and sinners. It furthermore brings a message to all persons in every age to whom religion is merely a matter of unwilling obedience and of loveless faithfulness to the laws of God. It depicts souls out of fellowship with God, feeling no real joy in his service and sharing none of his gladness in the salvation of lost souls.
The elder brother knew nothing of the experience of a true son. He was merely a slave. When the prodigal returned he was not watching with his father, he was “in the field;” when he learned that his brother had been welcomed to the home he was filled with anger. He refused to enter the house and when his father came out to entreat him, he accused him of partiality and unkindness. His words described admirably the self-righteousness of the Pharisees, “I never transgressed a commandment of thine;” they also show how little he appreciated his true privileges, “thou never gavest me a kid.” The reply of his father intimates the possibilities which he never had appreciated and the privileges which he never had enjoyed, “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that is mine is thine.” It had always been possible for the Pharisees to enjoy the grace and mercy and love of God; but to them religion had been a mere burdensome round of rites and duties. It had given no satisfaction, no gladness, to their hearts. Something of their experience is paralleled even by Christians of the present day. Failing to appreciate the gracious pardon of God and his willingness to supply every spiritual need, forgetting the possibility of living in daily communion and fellowship with him, knowing nothing of his joys in the salvation and repentance of lost souls, they are seeking in their own strength, wearily and joylessly, to do the things that they believe to be right and to obey the commands of God, but their lives are like those of servants, not like the free, joyous, loving experience of true sons.
Possibly the most artistic touch in the parable is its abrupt close. We do not know whether the elder son yielded to the entreaty of his father or not. It was an appeal to the Pharisees; would they accept the grace of God and further his plans for the salvation of the lost, or would they continue to criticize and envy the repentant sinner? Shall we live as servants or as sons?
The parable of the Unrighteous Steward is often regarded as the most perplexing of all the parables of our Lord. It seems to picture a man who robbed his master and received his master's praise and was pointed to by Jesus as an example for his followers; further, it seems to indicate that a place in heaven can be purchased with money. A more careful reading shows that the praise was bestowed, not for dishonesty, but for prudence and foresight, that our Lord would have his followers imitate these good qualities in a bad man, and further that it is possible to use wealth so generously as to secure endless satisfaction and joy.
The story is that of a steward or a trustee who was in charge of the property of a rich landowner. Report had reached his master of the extravagance and dishonesty of this servant. An account was demanded and he was certain to lose his position. However, he seized on the opportunity which was still his so to use the wealth intrusted to him as to secure friends who would provide a home for him when his stewardship had been lost.
The story is intended to illustrate the stewardship of wealth. No money is really owned by a follower of Christ; it is simply intrusted to him to be wisely used in accordance with the will of the Master. For its use a strict account must some day be made. It will, therefore, be the part of wisdom and of prudence so to use that which is now intrusted that in the eternity to come there will be no regret but only joy for the way in which wealth was employed. In the parable the steward was guilty of fraud, as he reduced the debts of those who owed money to his master. He was really using for his future benefit money which was not his own. Of course the Christian is to act with scrupulous honesty; nevertheless, as he benefits others by his generous gifts, he really is using money which belongs to the Lord, but of course he is using it in accordance with the will of his Master.
In applying the parable, Jesus indicated that the right use of money, which seeks the welfare of others, applies not only to the rich but also to the poor, “He that is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much.”
Jesus further indicated that the stewardship which all Christians now enjoy is a training for larger service in the life to come. “If therefore ye have not been faithful in the unrighteous mammon, who will commit to your trust the true riches?”
The motive which inspires fidelity as stewards is that of love. The difficulty with the dishonest servant was that he was disloyal to his master and was really seeking to serve himself. One who really loves his Lord will be faithful in the use of that which is intrusted to him. The danger of stewards is that of divided allegiance. “No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”
The parable of the Unrighteous Steward was intended to teach the possibility of the right use of wealth. The parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus was designed by our Lord to warn his hearers against its abuse. Between the two parables Luke records a number of sayings, the connection of which cannot be determined beyond question but they seem to have been quoted by him as an introduction to the second of these parables, vs. 14-18. They contain a rebuke of the Pharisees for their besetting sin of avarice and a statement of the unfailing authority of the Law, the letter of which they observed, but by the spirit of which they were condemned.
These Pharisees ridiculed our Lord for teaching the absolute necessity of generosity and benevolence and the unselfish use of wealth. Our Lord replied that while these enemies of his might receive the approval of men, God read their hearts and many who received human praise were but abominable in the sight of God. Jesus stated that while the gospel message did differ from the Law and while many were eagerly accepting its blessed privileges, it did not set aside the Law, but only showed how its demands could be met. When he stated that “one tittle of the law” could not fall, he referred to the minute projections which distinguish Hebrew letters, and meant that the slightest requirement of the Law was sacred and abiding. He illustrated these truths by a reference to the Seventh Commandment, and insisted that adultery did not lose its sinful character because of any interpretation of the Law such as was put upon it by those who were teaching lax theories of divorce. It was still sinful, even when justified by civil enactment. Thus Jesus was reminding the Pharisees that the Law might abide and be sacred even when legalists who observed its letter were condemned.
In the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, Jesus by no means taught that it is sinful to be rich or that the poor are all saved. He did mean to suggest the solemn peril of the selfish use of wealth. The sin of the rich man did not consist either in the way in which he had acquired his wealth or in the fact that he possessed it, nor yet in any breach of moral law, but in the plain statement that while he was living in selfish luxury one who was in sore need lay unrelieved at his door. The rich man is commonly called Dives, the Latin name for “a man of wealth.” Lazarus is the only person in any parable of our Lord to whom a special name is given. It is just possible that the name was intended to indicate the character of the man as one who trusted in the help of God. The story shows not only the contrast between the two men in the present life, but the still greater contrast in the life that is to come. The picture is not to be interpreted with absurd literalness; but it does contain a serious warning, and behind its figures of speech are solemn realities. It does indicate the remorse and the anguish which forever may be experienced by those who upon earth make only a selfish and heartless use of wealth and position and opportunity. The consequences are shown to be as endless as they are distressing. A time of reversal is to come, a time of judgment and retribution.
It is evident that Jesus was especially warning the Pharisees; the rich man was a representative of this class who were notorious for their scrupulous observance of law and for their lives of selfish luxury and indulgence. The rich man addressed Abraham as his father, and was addressed by Abraham as his son. This is an intimation that the most orthodox Jew might be lost and come at last to a place of torment.
As the rich man requested that a special warning be sent to his brethren, it is possible that he was expressing his sympathy; more probably he was making an excuse and intimating that had he been given more light he would not have so grievously sinned. The reply is, therefore, very significant, “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, if one rise from the dead.” It was an answer to the Pharisees for their continual request that Jesus should give some striking sign by which they would recognize his divine mission. Our Lord indicated that a striking prodigy or miracle will never convince those whose hearts are not right with God. He declared further that the Law and the Prophets plainly set forth the divine requirement of love. One who fails to observe this supreme law in the use of wealth and of all similar opportunities and privileges is under condemnation and is in peril of eternal pain.
After the severe rebuke given by our Lord to the Pharisees in view of their selfish abuse of wealth, Luke records four apparently disconnected warnings given to the disciples. The first, vs. 1, 2, was against the peril of causing others to sin. In this world of selfishness and of evil desire, our Lord declared, it is inevitable that such offenses will be committed, but he pronounced a solemn woe upon anyone guilty of this grievous fault. He declared that it would be better for such a person to be drowned in the sea rather than to allow himself to become guilty of such a sin. The death of the body is far preferable to the death of the soul. Therefore, Jesus warned his followers lest they might lead anyone astray or causes anyone to stumble, particularly such as might be in years or experience less mature than themselves. No age of the Church has been without its tragedies in which power and influence have been selfishly used to mislead innocent souls, and no life is beyond the possibility of placing stumblingblocks in the paths of others or of exerting even unconsciously influences which may cause others to sin.
In the second warning, here recorded by Luke, vs. 3, 4, Jesus guarded his disciples against lack of charity. He intimated that his followers should be ready always to forgive. He did not advise weakness or indifference to sin; he suggested that a brother who offends may deserve and should receive a rebuke. It is proper that he should be made to feel and to appreciate his fault. Nevertheless, he is to be treated with kindness and if he sincerely repents, he is to be forgiven freely. Even if he repeats his sin with frequency, no revenge is to be harbored against him. Jesus suggested that his offense might be committed “seven times in the day,” by which he meant an unlimited repetition of the fault; even then if his repentance is sincere, forgiveness must not be denied.
The twelve apostles, probably in view of the particular responsibilities which rested upon them, turned to their Master with the petition, “Lord, increase our faith.” The reply contains a solemn warning, that there is need of such increase, a far greater need than the petitioners realized. Nevertheless, there is also in the reply a gracious promise. They were lovingly rebuked for their lack of faith, but they were reassured by a revelation of the unlimited power of faith. Our Lord asserted that if they possessed real faith, even so small as to be compared with one of the most minute objects in nature, namely, “a grain of mustard seed,” they would be able by a word to accomplish incredible results, speaking figuratively, to cause a mulberry tree to be rooted up and planted in the sea. The followers of Christ to-day need to be reminded of these same truths, namely, of the narrow limits to which faith is usually confined and the unbounded possibilities which might be theirs if their trust in Christ were more simple, more unquestioning, and more real. Vs. 5, 6.
The fourth warning here recorded rebukes the pride, the self-confidence, the desire for praise and for reward, which too often characterize the followers of Christ. Jesus taught that no human works, however perfect, give a claim upon God, but are merely the fulfillment of duty. This truth is set forth in the parable of the Unprofitable Servant. Vs. 7-10. The word “unprofitable” does not mean worthless, but merely implies one who has not gone beyond his obligation or duty. The picture is that of a slave who has labored faithfully in the field and who when the day is done merely continues in the evening to accomplish his appointed tasks. His master does not show any particular gratitude to one who is doing that which he is expected to do. He does not especially praise his servant for doing the things commanded.
So in the case of every man, a life of the most blameless holiness and love is no more than God requires. It is no ground on which a special reward can be demanded. It is no reason for expecting promotion or praise. To do less would be to neglect an obvious duty, and to do more than duty is impossible. While this parable rebukes all pride and cuts off all merit of works, it is nevertheless true that in other parables our Lord taught the certainty of rewards which he is to grant faithful servants not as a matter of compulsion on his part but in loving grace.
The healing of ten lepers begins the closing cycle of incidents which marked the last journeys of Jesus toward Jerusalem. It is quite like Luke to record this miracle, for the chief feature of the story is the gratitude and the blessing of a Samaritan, and Luke is ever describing Jesus as the Saviour, not only of the Jews, but of the whole human race.
There is in this miracle, however, another peculiar feature; before the lepers were cured they were bidden to go to the priests and to declare that the cure had been effected, and “As they went, they were cleansed.” It required no little faith to start upon that journey; but they started, and their faith was rewarded. So to-day when men come to Christ with their request to be delivered from sin, he commands them to act as though the petition already were granted, and with the act of faith comes the answer to the prayer. The command of Christ involved a promise and upon his promises we can always rely with absolute safety.
One of the lepers “When he saw that he was healed, turned back, with a loud voice glorifying God; and he fell upon his face at his feet, giving thanks: and he was a Samaritan.” There is something of surprise and sadness in the question of Jesus as he saw this restored leper lying at his feet: “Were not the ten cleansed? but where are the nine? Were there none found that returned to give glory to God, save this stranger?” It is always surprising to find that ingratitude is so common among men. Nine out of ten probably will forget every favor they may receive. It is rare that one realizes and acknowledges his debt. Still more sad it is to see so few among those who have accepted the salvation of Christ showing real gratitude in lives of joyous service and declaring that they are constrained to live for him who died for them.
There was, however, for the Samaritan a glad word of blessed assurance and promise, “Arise, and go thy way: thy faith hath made thee whole.” Jesus either meant to call attention to the means of the cure, namely faith in himself, and so to nurture that germ of new life into fuller trust in his divine person; or he meant to say that the faith which first had secured the healing of the body and which was manifested in the man's return and his gratitude now secured for him the salvation of his soul. In either case we are reminded that gratitude is often found where least it is expected; that it is always pleasing to our Lord; and that it is the certain condition of further blessedness and joy.
Either in mere curiosity or with a desire for debate the Pharisees approached Jesus with a question as to when the Kingdom of God would come. Jesus replied that it would not come in such manner as they were expecting, nor would it appear as a visible development of which they could say, “It is here,” or “there,” for, in the person of the King, it was already “in the midst” of them and they did not recognize it. Thus when Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is within you,” he could hardly have meant that it was in the hearts of the hostile and godless Pharisees; nor is the familiar and beautiful conception of the Kingdom as “a reign of God in human hearts” thus expressed in the New Testament. Jesus more probably meant that in his own person and work the Kingdom was present. The essence of this Kingdom is always spiritual and consists in “righteousness and peace and joy.” It is to have, however, a future, visible manifestation at the appearing of the King. The question as to the time and manner of its coming is not to be asked either to satisfy mere curiosity or to arouse controversy; for men of the world, like the Pharisees, the important fact is that Christ, who is ever a divine and spiritual presence, is to be accepted as Master and Lord; his service always issues in new and more blessed life.
To the disciples, who trusted him, it was possible for Jesus to answer more in detail the question as to the coming of the Kingdom which is to be inaugurated in splendor on his return. He told them that they must expect first a period of long delay in which their weary hearts would often yearn for a single day of the coming glory and that many deceivers would point to places and times of his appearing. However, when he did appear it would be with suddenness and unmistakable splendor, like the lightning which in an instant flashes across the whole heaven.
First, however, this King who will then come to reign must suffer and die; and the world which has rejected him will not be expecting his return. When he does reappear the race will be in the same carnal security, careless and indifferent and absorbed in the usual occupations of life, as were the men in the time of the Flood or the inhabitants of Sodom in the day of its doom.
On the contrary, those who are to share the glories of the Kingdom must be looking for their returning Lord. Their proper attitude of mind is pictured by a series of acts; one who is on the housetop is not to come down to secure his goods; one in the field will not return to his house; they will not look backward, but will go forth eagerly to meet their Master in whom alone is their safety and their hope.
It will be a time of certain separations even for those most closely related; for example, two men will be sleeping in the same bed: one will be taken and the other left; two women will be sharing a common task: one will be taken and the other left. This word “taken” is the same beautiful expression found in the Gospel of John, where is recorded Jesus' promise, “I ... will receive you unto myself.” It speaks of the peace and joy and blessedness of those who gladly welcome the coming of the King.
At a question from the disciples as to where such judgment would take place, our Lord replied that it will be universal; wherever the carcass is there the vultures will be gathered together; where there is corruption and sin, there will judgment fall. Yet this judgment will be followed by the splendor of the Kingdom for which the followers of Christ watch and pray and labor and wait.
The parable of the Unrighteous Judge was spoken in direct connection with the instructions given to the disciples by their Master in reference to his return. It is, therefore, not merely a general exhortation to prayer, but to prayer for the coming of Christ, and more specifically to the confident expectation of this event and of the blessedness which will result.
It does, however, contain a very real encouragement to prayer and for all Christians and at all times. The argument is this: If an unjust judge, who has regard for neither God nor man, would yield to the importunity of an unknown widow because he feared that she would annoy him by her repeated requests, how much more will a just God be ready to reward the persevering petitions of his own loved ones who cry to him continually!
In spite of all the mysteries involved, the followers of Christ should pray without ceasing, and with all importunity should present their petitions with the assurance that God does hear and in his own time will answer.
The particular force of the parable relates, however, to the Church in her conscious weakness and loneliness, in the age between the crucifixion and the second coming of Christ. Jesus had just given a description of the world at the time of his return. He had pictured the prevalent carelessness and indifference and absorption in earthly pursuits, and now he wished to encourage his followers to be patient and to turn their hearts toward him in expectation and prayer. The widow in the parable is not so much requesting that an enemy should be punished as that she should be given her property rights for which she is applying to the judge. So the Church is pictured, not simply as crying for vengeance upon persecutors, but rather as longing and praying for all those blessings which have been promised and which will be received at the coming of the Lord.
There is a deep mournfulness in the question which Jesus asked after expounding his parable, “Nevertheless, when the Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on the earth?” Will there still remain those who are true to Christ, who love him and are looking for his return? The very question is a solemn warning against the peril of being overcome by prevalent worldliness and unbelief. However, the answer is not to be given in a spirit of hopelessness and pessimism and despair. The Church will always have her adversaries, she ever will need to be on her guard against the worldly influences by which she is surrounded. However, there will always be those who are true to him who has chosen them out of the world, and after long days of weary waiting their hearts will rejoice in the sudden appearing of the righteous judge who will bring with him glories brighter than they have dared to ask or to expect.
The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican was designed to teach humility not only in prayer but in every estimate of oneself and in every approach to God. It further contrasts the religion of form with the religion of the heart. It shows that the way of penitence is the only path to pardon and to peace.
It was not addressed to Pharisees, although it is a severe exposure of the hypocrisy and self-deception of Pharisaism of every kind. Jesus seems rather to have had in mind some of his own followers; but whatever their class or profession, Pharisees have their representatives in every age and land. They are described as “certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and set all others at nought.”
Such, indeed, was the Pharisee here described. He had gone up to the Temple to pray; he stood in some conspicuous place; he addressed God but he uttered no true prayer. He began by saying, “I thank thee,” but he really addressed himself. He rejoiced that in comparison with other men he formed a class by himself. He declared all others to be “extortioners, unjust, adulterers,” and as an example of such sinners he pointed to the poor publican at whom he was looking instead of looking to God. He boasted that he had refrained from the sins of other men and also that he had performed more good deeds than the law required. Moses instituted no obligatory fast; but the Pharisee fasted twice in the week. Moses exempted certain things from the tithe; the Pharisee had tithed his entire income. In other words, he had been better than God required. He had placed God under obligation to him. How little does such a man understand the real holiness of God, of the requirements of that law the essence of which is love!
In striking contrast the publican was standing at a respectful distance from the supposed saint whose formal piety had impressed his fellow men. He did not venture even to look toward heaven. He beat upon his breast, as a sign of mourning, and cried out in anguish, “God, be thou merciful to me a sinner.” The original words seem to imply that he regarded himself as likewise distinct from all other men. He felt and confessed himself to be “the sinner;” but as he acknowledged his guilt and turned to God in penitence, he was accepted as righteous in the sight of God and received pardon and peace.
There can be no misunderstanding as to the lesson which the Master wished to impress. “This man went down to his house justified rather than the other.” A sense of guilt and a yearning for pardon and a cry to God for mercy—this is the very beginning of a new life; and however far one may progress in holiness there is ever need of similar humility. The nearer one is to God, the more conscious is he of his sinfulness and the less likely to boast of his own moral attainments. The more one acknowledges his unworthiness, the better is he prepared to serve his Master and his fellow men. The pride of Pharisaism on the part of nations, as well as in the lives of individuals, stands in the way of helpfulness and brotherhood and the favor of God. What is needed to-day is universal repentance, a manifestation of the humble and the contrite heart; “For every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled; but he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.”
This charming picture of Jesus blessing little children is sketched by Matthew and Mark as well as by Luke. Its attractiveness has given it a place on the canvas of many an artist. Its symbolic message is being accepted by the modern Church, “They were bringing unto him also their babes.” The parents were probably carrying these children in their arms. They realized that not only the lepers and the infirm needed the touch of Christ, but that the power of the Master would bring blessing to the children as well.
This touch may properly picture that personal relation and spiritual contact with Christ which to-day, with equal eagerness, should be sought for their children by all parents. “When the disciples saw it, they rebuked them.” They seemed to have felt that children were too insignificant to be allowed to interfere with the work or to demand the attention of Christ. At this present time there are many things which tend to keep parents from bringing their children to the Master: custom and carelessness and indifference and fear and diffidence; even friends seem to play the part of those “disciples” and to conspire to prevent and rebuke those who really long to see their children brought into a sanctifying relationship to the Lord. No problem of to-day is more important than the removal of such barriers and obstacles. The Christian nurture of children is the supreme need of the times. “But Jesus called them unto him, saying, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not.” This reply of the Master has cast an unfading halo about the faces of all children. Their innocence and their need made a special appeal to the Master. Should it not affect us in like manner, and should we not feel that no work is more Christlike and none more blessed than the care of these little ones whom our Lord so truly loves? We are the real servants of our Master only as we feel the appeal of childhood and as we seek to supply to children their physical and mental and spiritual needs.
“For to such belongeth the kingdom of God.” It is theirs by right. It belongs not only to those particular children whom Jesus was then blessing, not only to all children in general, but to all of whatever age who are childlike in their trust and dependence and purity. All those who are intrusted to the care of the Master and who accept his saving grace will find a place in his Kingdom.
As the crowds gazed in wonder and sympathy on this tender scene, our Lord added this word of warning, “Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall in no wise enter therein.”
In contrast with the penitent publican and with the loving trust of little children which Luke has been depicting, there steps upon the scene a young man, rich, upright, morally earnest, but apparently unconscious of the sinful greed which threatened his soul and of that trust in riches which might prevent his entering the Kingdom of God. In spite of his riches, his youth, his position, and his power, his heart was not satisfied. He had come to Jesus with the question, “Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus at once rebuked him, “Why callest thou me good? none is good, save one, even God.” By this reproof Jesus was neither defending his own divinity nor denying his sinlessness. He wished to convince the young man of his moral need. He intimated that the thoughtless use of the word “good,” addressed to one whom he regarded as a human teacher, was a proof that the young man had a superficial view of goodness. Judged by a divine standard the young inquirer could not claim to be good, nor can any man regard himself as righteous in the light of divine holiness.
In order to awaken the conscience and to disturb the complacent self-righteousness of the young inquirer, Jesus now tested him in the light of the commandments in which God has revealed his holy will. The youth at once replied, “All these things have I observed from my youth up.” Jesus now applied the deep probe which showed that the man had never observed the spirit of the Law, even though he believed that he had kept the letter. Jesus disclosed the real selfishness of the heart as he proposed a supreme test: “One thing thou lackest yet: sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow me.” In this sentence Jesus convicted the man of having broken the Law, the essential requirement of which was to love his neighbor as himself.
Jesus promised an eternal recompense for sacrifice, and he offers by his personal companionship the influence and power which will make the keeping of the Law more possible and complete. No one can claim to be righteous when judged by the commandments as interpreted by Christ. Our only hope is to come to him for guidance and help. He will lay bare the secret selfishness of our hearts, and will develop the spirit of love and service which forms the essence of eternal life, and in heaven he will ultimately recompense his followers for every loss.
Jesus does not demand that all who obey him must literally leave their worldly possessions. In his command to the rich ruler he was dealing with a specific case. He does demand, however, that each one shall give up anything which prevents open, honest discipleship and fellowship with himself. In the case of this inquirer the obstacle was his wealth. It was impossible for him to retain it and yet to follow Christ. The Master made plain to him that his goodness had been superficial and inadequate. He showed him that love of money was the canker which had been hidden in his soul. He plainly placed before him the necessity of choosing between his wealth and the eternal life which Jesus alone can give. No wonder that when the young ruler heard the stern requirements and realized for the first time that he was controlled by his wealth, “He became exceeding sorrowful; for he was very rich.” He kept his wealth and he rejected his Saviour. He saw the possibility of eternal life, but he was not willing to pay the price. He retained his riches, but he lost his soul.
As Jesus looked upon him in pity, he startled his disciples by the statement of a truth which the scene had illustrated: “How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!” This was particularly surprising to the Jews. They imagined that wealth was a positive proof of divine favor. What then did Jesus mean? He did not intend to teach that wealth is sinful or that private property is a social wrong. He meant that riches may possibly keep their possessor from Christian discipleship and that one who seeks to satisfy himself with such wealth as keeps him from Christ can never enter the Kingdom of God. Jesus even added a pardonable hyperbole, “It is easier for a camel to enter in through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” One who would enter that Kingdom must become as a little child; he must abandon all trust in self, and be willing to sacrifice anything which prevents his becoming an obedient servant of Christ. When the disciples heard this, they were astonished and asked, “Then who can be saved?” Our Lord replied, “The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.” It does require resolution and decision and sacrifice, but God is ready to supply all needed grace. His spirit can strengthen those who turn to him in their conscious need and with a real desire for a higher life.
As the rich man moved away sorrowfully in his costly robes, Peter looked upon him with apparent scorn, and turned to Jesus with the self-complacent remark, “Lo, we have left our own, and followed thee.” The reply of Jesus was not intended to encourage men to follow him in hope of gain. His salvation is a matter of grace. We are not to think that by any sacrifice of worldly goods we can purchase eternal life. However, the tender words of the Master do remind us that a rich recompense will be received for all that we may surrender in becoming his disciples. Even in this present time one receives a hundredfold reward, not in literal kind but in experiences which now satisfy the soul and “in the world to come eternal life.”
As Jesus moved southward through Perea, nearing the end of his last journey to Jerusalem, he was accompanied by admiring multitudes, but his own heart was heavy with the knowledge of the suffering that awaited him and he clearly saw before him the outline of the cross. Many of his followers to-day share his experience in part; even in surroundings which all observers envy, their hearts are crushed by secret sorrows and by the knowledge of approaching pain.
Those who then were nearest to him were quite unconscious of his thoughts or his need of sympathy. Then for the third time Jesus clearly predicted his approaching death. He declared that his sufferings were to be in accordance with written prophecy and now more clearly than ever he described the details of all the anguish he must endure. He was to be “delivered up unto the Gentiles” and therefore to be crucified, and with all the sickening accompaniments of mockery and spitting and scourging, he was to be killed.
Such a clear vision of what awaited him enhances for us the revelation of his matchless heroism as he moved forward with unfaltering tread, giving an inspiring example to each one who may be asked to take up the cross and come after him.
Such knowledge reveals one who consciously was more than man, such a confidence that he was fulfilling the prophecies of the inspired Scriptures shows that he regarded himself as the Saviour of the world. Such a willingness to suffer demonstrates the fact that he believed his atoning death to be an essential part of his redeeming work.
The grave, however, was by no means his goal. With absolute definiteness he declared that on the third day he would rise again. This vision of triumph was in part the explanation of his courage. It was in virtue of such a resurrection victory that he could be the Saviour of mankind.
His disciples, however, understood none of these things; with threefold emphasis Luke describes their dullness of apprehension. They did not believe that his death was necessary and for them the resurrection was not even a dream. Their lack of expectation only made them more credible witnesses of that resurrection when it did occur. However, would not a clearer vision, unclouded by false notions of their own, have enabled them to understand their Master and to bring some cheer to his lonely soul; and does he not always desire his followers to accept his predictions with implicit faith and to rest upon his promises with triumphant hope?
As for the last time Jesus was journeying through Jericho, he healed a blind man whom Mark in his record names Bartimæus. This miracle was a proof of divine power and an expression of human sympathy, but it was also a parable of the ability which Jesus alone has of giving sight to the morally blind and of imparting that spiritual vision which is absolutely necessary if men are to live in right relations to one another and to God. In certain minor details Luke's account differs from those of Matthew and Mark. The former mentions two blind men and agrees with Mark in stating that the miracle occurred as Jesus was leaving the city. Possibly Mark and Luke refer to the best known of the two men and Luke may designate the older of the two towns which bore the name of Jericho. All agree, however, in picturing the pitiful condition of the helpless man who because of his blindness was reduced to beggary and was a true symbol of the misery to which one is brought by the lack of spiritual sight.
Then there is the picture of the obstacles to be overcome, of the doubts and difficulties that lie in the way of those who seek to come under the healing influence of our Lord. “They that went before rebuked him, that he should hold his peace.” Often do those who yearn for light and healing hear words which dishearten and suggestions which lead to hopelessness and despair!
Again there is the picture of eager determination and of unshaken faith. “He cried out the more a great deal, Thou son of David, have mercy on me.” He had been told that “Jesus of Nazareth” was passing by. He, however, called him “Jesus, thou son of David.” He recognized the Prophet of Nazareth as the promised Messiah, the Saviour of the world, and when rebuked for crying to him for mercy, he continued steadfast in his faith and his confident trust that Jesus would sympathize and heal.
Lastly, there is the picture of complete relief. The blind man was not disappointed. Jesus said unto him, “Receive thy sight: thy faith hath made thee whole.” How many likewise have found Christ able and willing to give them spiritual vision! Their eyes have been opened to behold things unseen and eternal and they have been enabled to follow the Master with joyful footsteps as they journey toward the celestial city where they will see the King in his beauty and will be like him when they “see him even as he is.”
Such miracles of grace rejoice the hearts not only of those who are healed; they occasion gratitude and joy to countless others also as they are assured of the sympathy and grace and divine power of the Saviour. As Luke here states, “All the people, when they saw it, gave praise unto God.”
“And he entered and was passing through Jericho,” a city famous alike for faith and unbelief. “By faith the walls of Jericho fell down,” and in blind unbelief they were rebuilt and the curse which had been pronounced came upon the defiant builder. As Jesus passed through the city he was to witness faith and unbelief, the latter to be shown by multitudes, the former by a single man named Zacchæus. This name signifies “holiness” but it was a poor designation of the man. Those who knew him best called him a “sinner,” and they were probably right. “He was a chief publican, and he was rich.” A man might be a publican and be honest, but he would probably be poor. Zacchæus' task was that of a taxgatherer, and when it is remembered that these officials made their wealth by extortion and dishonesty, to say the least, it was suspicious when a taxgatherer was rich.
“He sought to see Jesus who he was.” It may have been curiosity, but there was a certain eagerness in his desire. He possibly had heard of the great Prophet who was so kind in his treatment of publicans and sinners. However, he could not see Jesus “for the crowd, because he was little of stature.” Obstacles often arise in the way of those whose attention is first turned toward Christ. If, however, they are earnest in their desire, they are certain to learn more of him.
The earnestness of Zacchæus was shown as “he ran on before, and climbed up into a sycomore tree to see him.” There was something undignified in the action of this little man of wealth, but his eagerness received an unexpected reward, for “When Jesus came to the place he looked up, and said unto him, Zacchæus, make haste, and come down; for to-day I must abide at thy house.” This is the only time so far as we know that Jesus invited himself to be a guest, but we are certain that he is ever ready to abide with those whose hearts are open to receive him. It has been said that Zacchæus was converted before he had reached the ground. There can be no doubt that a great change came into his heart as he realized how fully Jesus knew him and anticipated what the Saviour could do for him; and his faith and hope were manifest at once. “He made haste, and came down, and received him joyfully.”
What did the crowd say? Exactly what the world always says when a man is turning to Christ and seeking to begin a new life. Men always call to mind the dark past from which the rescued man is turning. “They all murmured, saying, He is gone in to lodge with a man that is a sinner.”
What did Zacchæus say? What every man says who has found the grace which Christ bestows and who realizes that a new life can begin only with repentance and resolution. “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor.” Thus he determined, as a Christian, to do far more than was required by the Jewish Law; that Law required a tenth; Zacchæus promised that half of all his income would be used in the service of the Lord. “And if I have wrongfully exacted aught of any man, I restore fourfold.” There can be little doubt that any publican would find large opportunities for such restoration; and nothing more definitely indicates true repentance than the desire to make amends for the past.
What did Jesus say? This is most important of all, “To-day is salvation come to this house, forasmuch as he also is a son of Abraham.” By his faith the publican of Jericho showed himself to be a true son of Abraham, the “father of the faithful.” His trust in Christ secured for him that salvation which is offered to all, even to the lowest and most hopeless and despised. “For the Son of man came to seek and to save that which was lost.”
Jesus felt impelled to deliver the parable of the Pounds because of the mistaken belief among the crowds that on his arrival in Jerusalem he would establish his Kingdom. He well knew that he was to be rejected and crucified, and that a long interval of time would elapse before his return in triumph. In this parable he definitely predicted this rejection and warned the unbelieving Jews of their peril. On the other hand he encouraged his disciples to wait with patience for his return, to watch for his coming, and to be engaged diligently in his service, promising to the faithful, abundant and gracious rewards.
This parable of the Pounds should be studied in connection with the parables of the Unprofitable Servant, ch. 17:7-10, the Laborers in the Vineyard, Matt. 20:1-16, and the Talents, Matt. 25:14-30. The first teaches that no reward can be claimed as a matter of merit; in view of all that the Master has given us, even pouring out his life for our redemption, we never by the most faithful service could begin to pay the debt we owe; even the most loyal devotion would be no ground for claiming a reward.
The parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard likewise warns us against a mercenary spirit in which we might serve the Master for the sake of a reward, bargaining for so much labor for so much pay, jealous of those who may receive as much as ourselves, though deserving, as we believe, less.
However, while no reward may be deserved, and while the hope of reward should not be the motive for service, the Master has assured us that, in absolute grace and with perfect justice, rewards will be granted to those who are found faithful when he returns. The parable of the Talents teaches that while opportunities and abilities for the service of Christ may differ, those who are equally faithful will receive equal rewards. The parable of the Pounds tells us that when opportunities are the same, greater faithfulness will receive greater reward.
This latter parable was delivered, as Luke tells us, because Jesus “was nigh to Jerusalem, and because they supposed that the kingdom of God was immediately to appear.” Jesus therefore compared himself with a nobleman who went into a far country, “to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return.” Jesus was always indicating the fact that there would be a long delay after his ascension before he would return, and that meanwhile his followers should be faithful to the opportunities granted them for serving their Master. In this parable Jesus pictured these opportunities under the figure of pounds, that is, sums of money amounting to something like sixteen dollars each. In comparison with a “talent” this was an insignificant sum. Our Lord wished to suggest that to every one of his followers something is intrusted which may be used for the advancement of his cause.
Jesus knew that the Jews were not only to reject him but were to continue in unbelief after his departure; thus in the parable he stated that “his citizens hated him, and sent an ambassage after him, saying, We will not that this man reign over us.” The main portion of the picture, however, is concerned with the return of the nobleman and the reward of his servants. This reward was proportioned to fidelity during the time of his absence. By way of example, one who had so used his pound as to gain ten pounds was made the ruler over ten cities; and one who had gained five, was appointed over five cities. The reward for service is thus shown to be larger service. Faithfulness in that which is very small is a preparation for larger responsibilities and more glorious tasks. This is true in the present, and the principle will be the same in the future.
One man was found, however, who had made no use of his pound. He had kept it “laid up in a napkin.” His excuse was that he feared his master and he said, almost boastfully, that he had not lost what had been intrusted to him. He was giving back that which he had been given him. The nobleman, however, properly rebuked this unfaithful servant in the very terms which he himself had used. If the master was known to be so strict, the servant should have been prepared to give a better account of his stewardship. It is true that one cause for unfaithfulness is an ignorance of the true nature of our Lord. Some are really afraid to undertake Christian service because they do not know, what the parable could not indicate, namely, that he who intrusts us with opportunities and abilities will give us grace, if we seek to do our best and with a real desire to advance the interests of our Lord, try to use the little which we have. Thus the nobleman rebuked the unfaithful servant for not having done the least which was possible. He could have placed the money in the bank and then if nothing more, the master would have received the interest on the loan. There is always something which every servant of Christ can do for him. There is never any real excuse for idleness and inactivity and failure to achieve something in the cause of Christ.
The pound was taken from the unfaithful servant and given to him who had secured the ten pounds, because our Lord wished to illustrate the truth that with our opportunities and privileges and gifts, the principle, use or lose, always applies. The right employment of even small gifts results in their enlargement, but failure to appreciate and employ that which we possess results in its ultimate loss. “Unto every one that hath shall be given; but from him that hath not, even that which he hath shall be taken away from him.”
The parable closes with a solemn warning to those who reject Christ. It is not only perilous to be unfaithful in his service but pitiful to be found in the class of those who refuse to acknowledge him as Lord. Jesus describes in these last words not only the destruction of Jerusalem, but the penalty of all who share in rejecting his rule. “But these mine enemies, that would not that I should reign over them, bring hither, and slay them before me.”
The time of his departure was at hand. The nation was about to reject him. The nobleman was just to start for the far country, for “When he had thus spoken, he went on before, going up to Jerusalem.”
The story of Luke is never lacking in human interest, but no scene is more suffused with sentiment, none more vivid with color, than that which pictures Jesus entering Jerusalem in triumph. We see our Lord mounted as a king, surrounded by acclaiming multitudes, sweeping over the brow of Olivet, while his attendant disciples spread their garments in the way and hail him as the Messiah. We see him lamenting over the doomed city and hear the harsh tones of the rulers who are plotting his death. With all these shouts of joy and sobs of grief and mutterings of malice, surely no scene is so full of emotion and none can illustrate more strikingly the relation between religious feeling and religious faith.
An appeal to the eye and ear and heart may awaken sentiment and prepare the way for the surrender of the will. There is to-day a proper place for music and architecture and eloquence as aids to devotion. In the case of the triumphal entry, Jesus planned every detail. He sent two disciples to secure the colt on which he was to ride; he allowed the disciples to place on the colt their garments, and as he rode toward the city he accepted the acclamations of the crowd. When the Pharisees criticized Jesus for permitting such praise and arousing such excitement, he declared that such homage to himself was not only proper but necessary, and that if the multitudes were silenced the very stones would “cry out” to welcome and to honor him. Jesus was offering himself as King for the last time, and therefore his offer was to be made in the most impressive way. He appealed to the imagination. He stirred the emotions. He did not mean that he was to be such a king as the people supposed; the borrowed colt, the garments of peasants, the banners of leafy branches were not to be the permanent furnishings of a court. He wished to secure the submission of their wills, the complete surrender of their lives, and therefore he made this stirring, dramatic, emotional appeal to the multitudes. He knew that religious feeling is an aid to religious faith.
However, religious feeling is not to be confused with religious faith. Emotion is no substitute for conviction. Jesus was not deceived. As he caught sight of the sacred city and heard the bitter criticism of the Pharisees, he realized the stubborn unbelief he was to encounter; he saw his rejection and death and the consequent destruction of Jerusalem and he pronounced his pathetic lament, “If thou hadst known in this day, even thou, the things which belong unto peace!” He predicted the ghastly horrors of the coming siege and the desolation of Zion and declared that it was due to inability to see that he had come as a Saviour and that his ministry had been a gracious visitation which might have resulted in repentance and in continued life for the nation. It is the sad, sad lament for what might have been.
Jesus entered the Temple and rebuked the rulers for allowing the house of God to be desecrated by degrading traffic. As the story closes we see Jesus standing in the center of the scene, on one hand the rulers plotting against his life, and on his other the multitudes hanging admiringly upon his words. Only too soon the rulers were to persuade the crowds to cry out for his crucifixion, and we are reminded that religious feeling unaccompanied by conviction may soon be chilled into indifference and hate.
There were those, however, like the disciples, who never forgot this scene of triumph. Its fuller meaning was appreciated in later years and as their trust in Christ strengthened, they looked back with ever deeper emotions upon the experiences of that memorable day; for it is true that religious feeling is after all a natural and inevitable consequence of religious faith.
After his triumphal entry into the city, Jesus continued to be the popular idol of the multitudes that thronged Jerusalem at the passover season. It was this popularity which delayed the designs of the rulers, as they had determined to put Jesus to death. They must first discredit him with the people. With this in view they sent a deputation from their chief court, the sanhedrin, to entrap Jesus in his talk or to bring him into conflict with the Jewish or Roman rulers. They challenged him to state by what authority he was receiving such honors as the Messiah, or driving the traders from the Temple, or performing his miracles. Their question was framed with subtle skill, “By what authority doest thou these things? or who is he that gave thee this authority?” They placed Jesus in a dilemma; if he should claim that authority had been delegated to him, then he might be accused of disloyalty and of schism, in supplanting the recognized “authorities” of the Jewish state; if he should claim inherent divine authority, as identified with God, he might be condemned for blasphemy.
Jesus silenced his enemies with a question which involved them in a counter dilemma: “The baptism of John, was it from heaven, or from men?” They could not say “from heaven,” for they had rejected John; they dared not say “from men,” for they feared the people by whom John was regarded as a prophet. So they tried to escape by cowardly replying that they did not know. Agnosticism is usually cowardly and deserving of little respect.
But Jesus did more than silence them; he answered them. His question was no irrelevant riddle by which he met a difficulty and delayed the necessity of a reply. He definitely implied that the authority of John was divine and that his own authority was the same; but as they were afraid to deny the divine authority of John they were also powerless to deny that of Jesus; and further he implied that if they had accepted the message of John, they would be prepared to accept Jesus. It is true that if we are afraid to accept the logical conclusions of our doubts and denials, we never can hope to discover truth.
Jesus further rebuked and exposed his enemies. When they said that they did not know, Jesus knew, and they knew, and the crowds knew, that they were not honest; the Lord had laid bare their hypocrisy; he had made it perfectly evident that the real question at issue was not authority but obedience. The enemies of Jesus pretended that they wanted to know more of his credentials; they really wanted to discredit and entrap him. The modern enemies of our Lord declare that they want more proofs, more evidence; what they really lack is love for God and submission to his will. Those who do not repent when John preaches, will not believe when Jesus offers to save. The world needs to-day, not more proof of divine authority, but more obedience to the divine will.
Jesus absolutely discredited his enemies in the sight of the people. They were the constituted authorities in all matters civil and religious, and yet they were made to confess publicly that they were not competent to judge a clear, familiar, important case relating to religious authority. They really abdicated their position. They, therefore, were disqualified to pass an opinion on the exactly parallel case of the authority of Jesus. Jesus had defeated them with their own weapon. No wonder that subsequently, when on trial before such judges, he refused to answer them a word. He had shown their incompetence, their insincerity, their unbelief. Honest doubters are deserving of sympathy; but professed seekers after truth, who are unwilling to accept the consequences of belief, should expect to receive no further light. An increasing knowledge of divine realities is conditioned upon humble submission of the heart and the will to what already has been revealed.
To the malicious challenge of his enemies Jesus had already replied, claiming for himself divine authority and condemning the rulers for their guilty unbelief. He now added a parable, more clearly stating his claims and more solemnly rebuking these hostile rulers and pronouncing judgment upon the nation they represented. He told the story of a householder who established and equipped a vineyard and let it out to tenants. He lived at a distance and expected as rent a certain portion of the vintage. When he sent for the fruit, however, his messengers were abused and killed; at last his own son was sent and was slain. He determined to come and to exact justice and to deliver his vineyard to tenants who were more worthy.
The parable was so plain that the enemies of Jesus perfectly understood its meaning. The householder was his Father; the vineyard was Israel; the husbandmen were the rulers to whom the nation had been intrusted; the servants were the prophets sent to summon the people to repent and to render to God the fruits of righteousness; the son was Jesus himself, who thus claimed a unique relation to God, distinct from the prophets and from all human messengers; the death of the heir was his own approaching crucifixion; the return of the householder was the coming visitation of divine judgment, the rejection of Israel, and the call of the Gentiles. It was aside from the present purpose of Jesus to refer to the individual Jews who would accept him and to the future conversion of the nation of which Paul wrote. He wished now to emphasize his own rejection and the guilt and punishment of the nation. He declared, however, that this death would issue in his exaltation and triumph; that he was “the stone which the builders rejected,” which “was made the head of the corner.” He also warned his enemies that all who, in unbelief, should stumble on that stone, all who should reject him, would be “broken to pieces,” and all who should attempt to drag down that stone would be ground and scattered as dust.
The rulers had been defeated, discredited, and disgraced but they had not been discouraged. In their first question they failed utterly to bring Jesus into any unlawful opposition to the religious courts. They now attempted by a new question to draw from him an answer which either would make him unpopular with the people or would bring him under the condemnation of the civil ruler. They asked him a question relative to the payment of tribute to the Roman Government. The more conservative Jews held that God was the ruler of Israel and that possibly it was wrong to pay taxes to support a heathen state. The more liberal party sided with the Herods, who owed their power to Rome. Therefore the enemies of Jesus sent to him representatives of both parties, Pharisees and Herodians, so that if he should avoid offending one party he would displease the other. They approached Jesus with the flattering assurance that he was so truthful and courageous that he would not hesitate to express his true convictions; and then they proposed their artful question: “Is it lawful for us to give tribute unto Cæsar, or not?” Should Jesus say, “Yes” ? Then he would cease to be a popular idol, for the people loathed the hateful oppression of Rome. Should Jesus say, “No” ? Then his enemies would hurry him away to the Roman governor and the cross, as a traitor and a rebel. The dilemma seemed complete; yet Jesus not only escaped the snare, but, in his reply, he enunciated a law for all time. “Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and unto God the things that are God's.”
To make plain his meaning, Jesus first called for a Roman coin, and asked whose image and superscription it bore. The reply, of course, was “Cæsar's.” Jesus therefore declared that those who accept the protection of a government and the privileges provided by a government, are under obligation to support that government. Christianity never should be identified with any political party or social theory; but Christians ever should take their stand for loyalty, for order, and for law.
It is not the whole of life, however, to “render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's;” one must also render “unto God the things that are God's.” The latter higher allegiance includes the former. The enemies of Jesus suggested a conflict of duties; he showed that there was perfect harmony. He intimated, however, that there was danger of forgetting God, and our obligations to him of trust, service, worship, love. The true basis for citizenship is devotion to God, and no political theory or party allegiance can be taken as a substitute for loyalty to him. The enemies of Jesus were answered and rebuked, and his followers were given guidance for all the coming years.
Jesus had foiled the scribes and the chief priests in their plan to entrap him in his public teaching. He was now attacked by the Sadducees who were the priestly and most powerful party among the Jews. They denied the immortality of the soul and believed neither in angels nor in spirits; they represented the modern materialists. It is to be noted that the question with which they approached Jesus was not one which referred only to immortality but specifically to the resurrection of the body. They proposed the case of a woman married successively to seven brothers from each of whom she was separated by death; and they asked, “In the resurrection therefore whose wife of them shall she be? for the seven had her to wife.” They hoped that Jesus would either deny the orthodox belief as to the resurrection or would make some statement which would contradict the Law of Moses in accordance with which the successive marriages were made. They implied that this accepted Law was inconsistent with the belief in a resurrection.
In his reply Jesus declared that in the resurrection life will be regulated by larger laws than are known in this present age. Those who will share the glory of that age, and who will experience the blessedness of “the resurrection from the dead” will be immortal in soul and body. Marriage, which is now necessary for a continuance of the race, will no longer exist. The relationships in that life will be higher than even the most sacred relationship of the present life. Those who have a part in this resurrection will be “equal unto the angels,” not in all particulars, but in the fact that their state will be deathless. In that larger sense they will be “sons of God” and “sons of the resurrection,” for death will have lost its power over them.
Such a reply should be carefully weighed by men of the present day who deny miracles and refuse to believe in resurrection and immortality. Many beliefs which are now ridiculed because they seem to contradict established laws of science will some day be vindicated by the discovery of higher and more inclusive laws than are now known.
In his answer Jesus already had rebuked the Sadducees for denying the existence of angels. He next established the fact of the resurrection by a quotation from the very Law on which they had depended to show that resurrection was impossible. He recalled the words recorded by Moses in reference to “the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” He then added, “He is not the God of the dead, but of the living.” Jesus meant to establish the fact of the continued existence of the dead; yet not merely this, but to prove the resurrection of the dead. The latter was the question at issue. The word “living,” as used by our Lord, indicates those who are enjoying a normal life, not that of disembodied spirits, but of immortal spirits clothed with deathless bodies. Therefore Jesus added, “for all live unto him.” In the mind and purpose of God all are to be raised from the dead and to enjoy that complete and blessed existence which resurrection implies. The confident expectation of such a future state is based on our relation to God. If he is truly our God and we are his people, the triumph of death is not real and permanent but will be ended by the glorious immortality of the body and of the soul.
Jesus had defeated his enemies in debate. They had come to him with a series of crafty questions designed to discredit him as a public teacher and to secure some ground for his arrest. To each of these questions he had given a reply by which his foes had been unmasked and condemned. He then asked them a question. It was intended not only forever to silence his foes, though it accomplished this, for henceforth no man ventured to meet him in public discussion; nor yet did Jesus desire further to humiliate his enemies. In the presence of the people he had already shown them to be ridiculous, contemptible, impotent, and insincere. His real motive was to ask a question, the answer to which would embody the chief of all his claims, namely, the claim that he is divine. It was of supreme importance that this claim should be made at exactly this time. He knew that the rulers had been unable to find a charge on which to arraign him before either the ecclesiastical or the civil court. He realized that they would dare to make no other attempt in public, but he clearly foresaw the fact that, through the treachery of Judas, he would be arrested and, before both these courts, would be arraigned on the charge of blasphemy. His enemies would accuse him of claiming to be not only the Messiah but also divine. On this occasion, therefore, in the presence both of the rulers and the people, he made the defense which never can be broken or forgotten as he definitely demonstrated from Scripture that the Messiah was described by the inspired writers as a divine Being. All that Jesus claimed for himself, as recorded in the Gospel of John, was included in the answer which was implied by the question which he now asked. Even for the present day it involves the supreme problem in the sphere of philosophy and religion. This problem concerns the person of Christ. Is he to be regarded as Man or God, or at once God and Man? Where is he to be placed in the scale of being; or, as Jesus voiced the problem, how could David speak of the coming Messiah as both his son and his Lord? There was but one answer. There can be but one. The Messiah was to be divine. The son of David is also the Son of God. The incarnation is the only solution of our most serious difficulties in the realm of religious belief. By his question Jesus not only silenced his enemies; he also showed their insincerity in condemning him to death and their rejection of the inspired Scriptures in their unwillingness to believe the testimony concerning the person of the Messiah. Jesus unquestionably claimed to be the divine Saviour of the world. The ideal Man is also the incarnate God.
As the long day of public controversy drew to its close, it was not strange that Jesus turned to warn the people against these enemies who had been seeking to defeat him and who were determined upon his death. These professed guides could not be followed safely. These rulers had shown themselves to be unworthy of their place and power. The people must look elsewhere for true teachers. They must find other men to interpret for them the will of God.
The scribes were the professional teachers of the day, the trained expositors of the Law. Most of them were Pharisees. They were of all men the most bitter enemies of Christ; they were jealous of his power; they were angered at his claims; and finally they had been goaded to desperation by their humiliating defeat at his hands. Upon these men Jesus pronounced the most stern condemnation. His words are recorded at length by Matthew. In the brief summary of the discourse made by Mark and by Luke we find only a few short sentences which sketch three principal features in the character of these unworthy leaders of religious thought. The first is their vanity, their ambition for display and for high position, and their love of flattery. The second is their cruel avarice, expressed by our Lord in the suggestive clause, “who devour widows' houses.” The third was their shameful hypocrisy; they are described as men who “for a pretence make long prayers.” It has always been remarked that the most bitter denunciations of Jesus were addressed to the men whose outward lives were most respectable and whose religious professions were most loud. This does not mean, however, that open vice and flagrant sin are better than selfish and proud morality; but it does remind us that great religious privileges and the possession of revealed truth involve solemn responsibilities and that hypocrisy and pretense are abominations in the sight of God.
What a contrast this charming sketch supplies to the picture which Jesus drew of the Pharisees! In the eyes of the world the service of the poor widow was meager and worthless, while the gifts of the hypocrites were costly and great; in the eyes of the Lord their offerings were comparatively worthless and she gave more than they all. As a matter of fact, she had brought but two small coins, worth less than a half cent, but they were all that she had. With this scene in mind we should be careful not to call our offerings “mites” unless they are all that we possess; we should be encouraged, however, to know that our Lord looks upon the heart and estimates the gift by the motive and the love and the sacrifice involved; above all, we should be reminded that we can best measure our offerings not by what we give but by how much we keep. The influence of the woman is still moving multitudes toward the treasury of the Lord.
During the days of his ministry Jesus frequently predicted his death and also his return to glory. He saw clearly before him a cross but on the distant horizon a throne. Again and again he had warned the Jews that their rejection of him and of his call to repentance would result in the destruction of Jerusalem and in the anguish of their race, and quite as frequently he had told his disciples that while indeed he was to die and rise again, a long period of time would pass before he would return in glory to establish his Kingdom. The great, final discourse relating to the future was delivered at the close of his last day of public controversy and teaching. As Jesus sat with his disciples on the slope of the Mount of Olives, as he looked westward and saw the sun sinking behind the majestic buildings of the sacred city, he realized that in truth the night was gathering over the nation, that his own day of earthly ministry was done, and that the true dawning would not break for the world until the Son of righteousness should arise in true glory, until he himself would return to fill the earth with the peace and joy and splendor of his universal reign. He, therefore, told his disciples with much detail the story of the approaching destruction of Jerusalem and of his own return after the long years of faithful service and of eager waiting which were appointed for his followers.
This prophetic discourse of Jesus is difficult to interpret; first of all, because it is phrased in figurative terms, the exact meaning of which is not always apparent. Again it appears that we have only a partial report of the prophecies then spoken by our Lord; it is necessary to compare the records of Matthew and Mark with the statements here given by Luke, and then to remember that we have probably only a fraction of the whole discourse. In the third place, it is evident that our Lord was describing not one event, but two. He was prophesying the literal overthrow of the holy city by the armies of Rome, but he was using the colors of this tragic scene to paint the picture of his own return in glory. So interwoven are these two series of predictions that it is not always evident whether the reference is to the nearer or to the more remote of these events. While we may note with some definiteness the general outline of the prophecy and while there need be little doubt as to its two outstanding features, namely, the destruction of the city and the return of our Lord, the study of this chapter should be undertaken with humility, and our conclusions should be stated with caution and with reserve. The result need not be bewilderment or despair; it should be encouragement and more confident expectation of the coming of Christ and the ultimate triumph of his cause.
The occasion of this prophetic message was the question asked by the disciples, as they gazed on the splendor of the Temple, concerning the destruction of which Jesus had spoken as he declared that the days would come “in which there shall not be left here one stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down. And they asked him, saying, Teacher, when therefore shall these things be? and what shall be the sign when these things are about to come to pass?” In the words of Matthew, they also asked, “What shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world?”
First of all, then, Jesus sketched for his disciples the character of this present age down to its very end, and described the experiences of his followers urging them to be faithful to him amidst all the commotions and trials of the coming years until he should return. According to his description the age will be characterized by the appearance of many deceivers who will claim the allegiance of his followers and assume to take the place of Christ. Furthermore, there will be wars and tumults but by these believers are not to be terrified. It is always a temptation of shallow minds to interpret every unusual event as a sign of the approaching end of the world. Our Lord assured his disciples that all through the passing years such events would happen without warranting the conclusion that the great event is near; as he declared, “The end is not immediately;” there would be a long period of delay; there would be a political commotion, “Nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.” There would also be earthquakes, famines, pestilences, and “great signs from heaven,” but these again must be regarded as characteristics of the present age and not as signs of its approaching end.
Furthermore, the followers of Christ must suffer bitter persecution and be brought before kings and governors for his name's sake. They must continue steadfast in their testimony. They need not be troubled as to the exact form of their witness but must trust the unseen Master to give them all needed wisdom as they speak boldly in his name.
Most distressing of all, they must suffer from the treachery of “parents and brethren, and kinsfolk, and friends” and some of them must taste the bitter cup of martyrdom; they will be hated of all men, yet their souls will not perish. By their steadfast endurance they will win eternal salvation. It is true, the picture is one of great hardship and distress but its message has encouraged sufferers who in all ages have been faithful in their testimony and have found the comfort and inspiration which is possible for all as they look for the coming and Kingdom of Christ.
As our Lord scanned the future he now fixed his eyes first of all upon that dreadful event which in some of its features foreshadowed the end of that age which he had been describing. On more than one occasion he had predicted the destruction of Jerusalem. He now declared that the definite sign of the descending doom would be the siege of the city: “When ye see Jerusalem compassed with armies, then know that her desolation is at hand.” He warned those within the city to flee to the mountains and declared that those who were in the country should not turn to the city for safety, because the days of vengeance will have come and the prophecies of punishment upon the guilty nation will be about to be fulfilled. It would be a time of unparalleled distress and horror; as Jesus declared, “They shall fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led captive into all the nations.” How literally his words were fulfilled is a familiar fact of history. It would be difficult to recall another scene of equally hideous carnage. It is estimated that a million Jews fell victims to the slaughter and outrage of the soldiers under Titus, and that unnumbered thousands were led as captives to Egypt and other lands.
Last of all Jesus predicted that Jerusalem would be “trodden down of the Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled.” The first phrase denotes something more than mere domination and Gentile control; it indicates something of indignity and disgrace and humiliation and this state of the holy city is to continue until “the times of the Gentiles” are fulfilled, which probably means during all the ages of Gentile control, and further, during all the seasons of grace in which the gospel is being preached to the Gentile world, indeed, until the return of our Lord. “Gentiles” are plainly contrasted with Jews, and not with Christians. The mere fact that the sacred city has passed into control of Christian powers is no proof that the age is near its end; for this end there will be definite signs as Jesus himself proceeded to declare. However, as one turns from this lurid picture of the destruction of the historic city, and remembers how exactly these prophecies came to pass, it should be with a new confidence in the further predictions made by Christ and with a new belief that the more significant events of which he next proceeded to speak will be fulfilled likewise with exactness and in all their promised glory.
Immediately before the return of our Lord, as the age draws to its close, there are to be certain signs so definite, so startling, and so terrifying, that they will leave no doubt that the predicted event is immediately to follow. They are described, however, in terms which may be largely figurative: “signs in the sun and moon and stars; and upon the earth distress of nations, in perplexity for the roaring of the sea and the billows; men fainting for fear ... for the powers of the heavens shall be shaken;” then will occur the event toward which all the ages are moving, for which the weary world has waited and by which the work of the Church will be crowned and her hopes fulfilled, namely, the personal, glorious appearing of the crucified, risen, ascended Lord. It may be a time of distress for the impenitent but for believers it will be a time of hope and expectation. When the signs of which Jesus spoke “begin to come to pass,” then, according to the words of Jesus, his followers may hopefully lift up their heads to greet their Deliverer, for their redemption will be at hand. The coming of Christ will be an event unexpected by the world, but Christians will be so definitely warned that they can be looking for the promised deliverance and for the predicted glory.
In speaking of his return in glory, Jesus mentioned certain definite signs by which his followers will know that his coming is near. To explain more clearly the purpose of these “signs,” Jesus spoke a brief parable in which he compared their appearance to the foliage put forth in the springtime which becomes a certain harbinger of the summer. Many have supposed that Jesus indicated Israel by his reference to “the fig tree” and have concluded that a revival of Judaism and a return of the Jews to Palestine will be a certain indication that the present age is drawing to its close. Whatever may be predicted elsewhere concerning the Jews, there is no such reference here, for Jesus not only said, “Behold the fig tree,” but also, “all the trees.” His meaning is perfectly plain. He did not refer to nations under the figure of trees, but he declared that as the foliage is a sure precursor of summer, so the signs of which he spoke are a certain indication of his imminent return. “Even so ye also, when ye see these things coming to pass, know ye that the kingdom of God is nigh,” the Kingdom which is to be established in glory at the appearing of our Lord.
Jesus further awakened the expectation of his hearers by the statement, “This generation shall not pass away, till all things be accomplished.” It is improbable, as again many have supposed, that Jesus referred to the Hebrew race by the term “this generation.” The words are almost certainly to be interpreted in their usual significance and “all things” to be “accomplished” refers to the destruction of Jerusalem regarded as the type and symbol of the return of Christ. These two events are thus closely related in this prophetic discourse and the literal fulfillment of the first gives to believers a more confident assurance of the certain occurrence of the latter: “Heaven and earth shall pass away: but my words shall not pass away.” The hope that our Lord will come is not based on human conjectures, but on his own unfailing predictions. All that is material and temporal may cease to exist, but his promises are eternal.
In view of such glorious prophecies the heart of the Christian is ever to be set upon the gracious realities relating to the coming of the Master. The followers of Christ must be on their guard lest they be overcome by the influences which Jesus described as characterizing the days immediately preceding his return. There will be temptation to self-indulgence and indifference and absorption in worldly cares. Believers are warned to be on their watch lest the coming of Christ overtake them unexpectedly, as indeed it will come upon others. They are urged to watch and to pray that they may be able to escape from those judgments which will break upon a guilty world, and may be counted worthy to take their places in the glorious Kingdom of their Lord.
Luke closes his account of the discourse delivered by Jesus in reference to his return by a statement which summarizes the general conditions which marked the final events of Jesus' earthly ministry. He states that Jesus passed his days teaching in the Temple and spent the nights under the open skies on the slopes of the Mount of Olives, and that the people were so eager to hear him that they resorted to the Temple early each morning. This statement is rather in the nature of a review. It marks a transition in the narrative. In reality, Jesus seems to have returned to the city only once more, when he was arrested and led forth to die. Luke prepares us for these last events. The story has reached its climax.
The statement that “the feast of unleavened bread drew nigh, which is called the Passover,” forms a fitting preface to the story of the passion, for the Hebrew feast commemorated the deliverance of Israel when the angel of death passed over the homes which were marked with blood, and now a greater redemption was to be purchased by the blood of Christ, and those who would accept his salvation were to put away sin from their lives, even as leaven was excluded from Hebrew homes during all the days of the feast.
The rulers of the Jews had already determined upon the death of Jesus. Their problem lay in his immense popularity. They were determining to delay until after the feast, when the great crowds would have left the city, when suddenly help came to them from a most unexpected quarter. Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve immediate followers of Jesus, offered to betray his Master into the hands of the rulers at such a time and place as they desired, namely, “in the absence of the multitude.” Of course the chief priests and the officers of the Temple guard “were glad” and contracted to pay the money demanded by the traitor for his treachery. Luke states that Judas acted under the direction of Satan. We are not to conclude, however, that he was a demoniac or that he lacked control of his faculties. His act was deliberate, unsolicited, and without excuse. The explanation is that he long had been cherishing his lust for gold. He had listened to the suggestion of Satan and now he yielded himself to his foul service. The alarming truth is that the treachery of Judas was not the act of a unique monster, but only an example of what, finally, may be done by any man who, in daily fellowship with Jesus, does not renounce his one besetting sin. To resist continually the gracious influence of the Saviour is to fall the more rapidly under the complete power of Satan.
The last meal of which Jesus partook with his disciples was a passover feast, and it was the occasion of the establishment of that sacrament which is known as the Lord's Supper. The passover called to mind a national deliverance in the past and pointed forward to a greater deliverance to come, which was effected by the death of Christ. The Lord's Supper points us backward to the great redemption he achieved by his atoning death, and forward to the fuller redemption he will accomplish in his return. The “Last Supper” may rightly be reviewed in connection with the Christian sacrament, and the story here recorded may intimate to us how this sacrament may be most helpfully observed.
1. It must be for us a time of retirement. So far as possible we must exclude all distracting thoughts and fix our minds upon Christ and his redeeming love. Jesus made such provision for his disciples. He sent Peter and John to the city to prepare a room in which he might partake of the passover with his disciples, but he was careful to provide against any possible interruption. He did not mention to the disciples the place of meeting. Had he done so, Judas would have disclosed the place to the enemies who would have arrested Jesus in the midst of the supper. Our Lord was careful to say to the two disciples that as they entered the city there would meet them “a man bearing a pitcher of water;” they were to follow him into the house and were there to prepare the passover. According to the account of the other evangelists, it seems that after the passover feast had been eaten and before Jesus established his memorial supper, he dismissed Judas from the circle. Surely it must be our endeavor to shut out from our hearts all traitorous and intrusive thoughts, that during the sacred service we may be consciously alone with our Lord.
2. It is to be a time of communion. Our Lord had eagerly looked forward to those hours to be spent with his disciples in unbroken fellowship. He had much to tell them. He knew it was to be a season of tender farewell, and he wished to strengthen them by messages of cheer and of hope. Probably in the whole Bible there are no chapters more familiar, more tender, more helpful, than those written by John containing the words spoken by our Lord in the upper room on the occasion of this Last Supper. To those whose hearts are prepared, the unseen Lord is surely present and ready to speak, through the appointed symbols and by his Spirit, truths which will inspire strength and joy.
3. It is to be a season of gratitude. The sacrament has often been called the “Eucharist,” the service of “thanksgiving,” for we then call to mind the infinite benefits secured for us by the atoning death of our Lord. This is the supreme purpose of the feast. Jesus stated this clearly when establishing it; the bread was to call to mind his body broken for us, and the wine was to be a symbol of his blood, which as he said to his disciples, was to be poured out for them. This supper is therefore to be a memorial of redeeming grace; it is to show forth the Lord's death, as he himself said, “This do in remembrance of me.”
4. It is to be a time of hope. Even under the shadow of the cross our Lord pointed his disciples to the glory of his throne; while their hearts were torn by the thought of separation, he reminded them of a reunion when they would eat and drink together “in the kingdom of God.” He declared that they were to have a time of temptation, but if they suffered with him, they would also reign with him. “I appoint unto you a kingdom, even as my Father appointed unto me, that ye may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom.” Thus the communion season is a time when we especially look forward to glad reunions with those who have passed on before. We cheer our hearts with visions of coming glory. Under the darkest shadows we look for the opening skies and for the return of Christ; we “proclaim the Lord's death till he come.”
5. It is a time of consecration. While the disciples were seated at the table they were disputing as to which of them was greatest. Our Saviour gave them a memorable example when he stooped down and washed their feet, and then most impressively he explained to them the character of true greatness and showed that its essence lay in service; to quote his own words, “He that is the greater among you, let him become as the younger; and he that is chief, as he that doth serve.” As we turn from the table of our Lord it should ever be with a desire to go forth in his name and to do anything in our power to serve our fellow men, and to follow in his footsteps who came “not to be ministered unto but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.”
6. It should be a time of humility, when we realize anew our weakness and our dependence upon Christ and his sustaining grace. Jesus found it necessary to warn his disciples concerning their coming temptations and trials, and particularly to foretell the fall of Peter. Turning to the impulsive, affectionate, fickle disciple, who seems to have been the leader of the apostolic band, he told him that Satan had desired to have the disciples, to sift them as wheat, but that Jesus himself had made special prayer for Peter that his faith should not fail, even though Jesus foresaw that for a time his courage would give way and that he would deny his Master. He urged Peter, however, to repent after his fall and to encourage his fellow disciples. Such a statement of the weakness and unfaithfulness which Peter was to manifest seemed incredible to him and he protested, “Lord, with thee I am ready to go both to prison and to death.” But Jesus sadly replied, “I tell thee, Peter, the cock shall not crow this day, until thou shalt thrice deny that thou knowest me.”
It is impossible to observe the Lord's Supper without memories of past failure, and it is only too true that similar experiences of weakness will be shown in days to come. Every such disloyalty gives pain to our Lord, but if our hearts are really yielded to him, our faults will be followed by true repentance. If we really trust in him, he is ready to pardon; as he prayed for Peter, so he is praying for us; though we at times stumble, he will not allow us utterly to fall. He is able to save “to the uttermost ... seeing he ever liveth to make intercession” for us.
7. This should be a time of new resolution. We should be humble and trustful in view of past and of possible future failures, but we should determine to stand firmly in the strength which the Master supplies. He told his followers in the upper room of the changed conditions which they were to meet when he had been taken from them. The enemies who would take his life would surely not treat his disciples with kindness. He assured them that they were now to be left more to their own resources and that they were to meet with the most bitter hostility. He even suggested that it would be necessary for each one to buy a sword. They took his words with absurd literalness and they said, “Lord, behold, here are two swords.” It was with sad irony that Jesus replied, “It is enough.” Of course, he did not mean that his followers are to use violence or are to extend the gospel by means of force. He only wished us to be warned and to resolve anew that in the spiritual conflict which awaits us we shall be true to him as loyal soldiers of the cross. We go forth to battle, but on some brighter morrow we shall be seated with him at a heavenly feast with banquet and song.
From the quiet fellowship in the upper room Jesus with his disciples, under the shadow of the night, went forth to the Garden of Gethsemane, a favorite resort on the slope of the Mount of Olives, and he there experienced that unequaled anguish of soul which is commonly known as his “agony.” To enter the sacred privacy of that scene even in imagination seems to be an intrusion, and yet some glimpses have been revealed for our instruction and encouragement as his disciples.
There can be no doubt that this distress which seized him was due to his clear vision of the death he was to endure on the following day; and this very agony adds beyond measure to the meaning and the mystery of that death. For any sensitive soul to shrink from pain and anguish is but natural and pardonable; yet if Jesus suffered such incomparable agony simply in view of physical torture, he was less heroic than many of his followers have been. If, however, in the hour of death, he was to be so identified with sin as to become the Redeemer of the world; if he was “to give his life a ransom for many;” if his experience as the Lamb of God was to be absolutely unique; if he was to endure the hiding of his Father's face, then we can understand why it was that in the dark hour of anticipation his soul was sorrowful “even unto death.” The agony of our Lord must never be supposed to reflect upon his human heroism; it is rather a proof of his divine atonement. The “cup” which Jesus was asked to drink consisted of death as “the Bearer of sin.”
In this hour of most bitter trial Jesus found relief in prayer. He had come to Gethsemane that he might be alone with God. He had exhorted his disciples to follow his example. When the agony most fiercely gripped his lonely heart he still prayed and he was heard. The cup was not removed, but “There appeared unto him an angel from heaven, strengthening him.” He was given grace to drain the cup to its very dregs and death lost its sting and the grave its terror. He was fitted for perfect sympathy with those who are called upon to face the mystery of “unanswered prayer.” “He became unto all them that obey him the author of eternal salvation.”
Jesus prayed in faith; and the very essence of such believing prayer is the willingness to obey. This was the petition which comes to us as an example, “Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.” He won his victory by complete submission to the will of his Father. Henceforth there was no more struggle. He turned with unfaltering step to meet betrayal and agony and death. The hour struck and he was ready. “He was well content.”
The manner in which Judas concluded his foul crime was in perfect keeping with its essential baseness. He led a multitude armed with swords and clubs into the Garden where his Master was wont to retire for prayer, and there betrayed him with a kiss, a sign which had been agreed upon in order that, in the deep shadows, one of the disciples might not be mistaken for the Master and arrested in his place. A kiss was a usual sign of friendship, but the manner of Judas and the rebuke of Jesus indicate that it was given with a false semblance of deep affection and was thus the more repulsive to the Lord. Acts of disloyalty to Christ are even more distressing to him in surroundings which are sacred and when committed by those who have made loud protestations of love.
The fearless composure of the Master is now contrasted with the conduct of his followers. They asked whether they should defend him with the sword, and before he could reply, Peter rashly smote the servant of the high priest and cut off his right ear. To this act Jesus made reply, “Suffer ye them thus far;” the exact meaning is not certain, but probably he was addressing his disciples to prevent further violence. He then touched the ear of the servant and healed him. Only Luke, “the beloved physician,” mentions this “unique miracle of surgery.” The incident has its message for disciples in all ages. Violence and cruelty in the defense of the cause of Christ misrepresent him to the world. The act of Peter gave countenance to charges which would be preferred against Jesus, and further resistance would have compromised the position of his Lord. However well intended, such rash defenses weaken the cause they are designed to promote.
Jesus turned to rebuke his enemies and resented the fact that they had come against him as against a robber with swords and clubs. He reminded them that daily he had taught in public. Their coming with violence, in secrecy; and under the cover of night, was a proof that the arrest was false and that it could not be justified. There had been abundant opportunities during many days to seize him in public when he was unprotected. Their present course bore its own condemnation; but he added mournfully, “This is your hour, and the power of darkness.” In the mystery of his providence God was allowing this iniquity. He was giving this temporary authority to the forces of evil. It was to be a brief hour, but those who willingly put it to such a use would incur eternal condemnation. Nothing is more solemn than the possibility of using for evil ends the liberty allotted us of God.
Peter really loved Jesus and his faith in him never failed; but in the hour of trial, which Jesus had predicted, Peter lost courage and denied his Lord. His sin, however, was unlike that of Judas. The latter was the final step in a downward course. The former was an act of cowardice in a career of moral development which resulted in blessing and service to all the followers of Christ.
The fall of Peter may be traced to his self-confidence. When he protested that he would be true to Christ, even though all should forsake him, he was sincere and expressed the true feeling of his heart, but he betrayed his pride. The immediate result was his failure to obey the Master and to watch and pray as he had been bidden; and consequently he was surprised and stunned by the arrest of Jesus, and like the other disciples, after a rash stroke in his defense, he forsook Jesus and fled. He followed Jesus to the palace of the high priest but hoped to conceal his discipleship and to be regarded as one of the excited crowd.
Every follower of Christ is in mortal danger when confident of his moral strength and especially when at the same time he is ashamed to be publicly known as a disciple, and most of all when he feels, as Peter probably felt, that confessed loyalty to Christ can under the circumstances be of no special help to his Lord. At such a time when the cause of Jesus seemed hopeless, when the courage of Peter was gone, when he was wearied by the long night of sleeplessness, when cold and lonely, the unexpected attack was made and Peter suffered his tragic defeat.
It may be easy to point the finger of scorn at the great apostle, but there are few followers of Christ who at times of less severe testing have not as truly denied their Lord, by word or deed, with cowardice and deceit and passion. Three times Peter repeated his denial and then he heard the crowing of a cock. The incident was insignificant in itself, but it recalled the word of his Master; it made Peter conscious of his disgrace but it called him to himself, and then as he turned toward the palace, for a moment he caught sight of his Lord. We may be unable to conjecture what was expressed in the face of Jesus as at that moment he “looked upon Peter.” There may have been something of rebuke, but probably there was more of unutterable sorrow and of tender sympathy. We read that as “Peter remembered the word of the Lord, ... he went out, and wept bitterly.” Surely these were tears of repentance and they prepared the way for pardon and for peace. To many a fallen follower of Christ there has come some minute providence recalling hours of glad fellowship and messages of solemn warning, and the heart has been turned toward the Master, and true repentance has been felt in realizing the pain which the disloyalty has brought to the loving Lord.
The consciousness has brought bitter tears and hours of regret and of anguish, but they have been followed by a brighter morning, by a meeting with the risen Christ, by a new confession of love, by words of peace, and by a truer life of deeper devotion to his cause.
After Jesus had been denied by Peter, he was grossly insulted and abused by his captors. He was mocked and beaten and reviled. Those responsible for these indignities were the Jewish rulers, the most cultured and refined and professedly religious men of their day; but the beast within man is more powerful than we commonly suppose. When Christ is rejected, when his teachings are despised, when his Spirit is opposed, then it is only a question of time and of occasion when hatred or malice or lust or anger awaken in man the passions and ferocity of the brute.
When the morning dawned, Jesus was led away to be arraigned formally before the sanhedrin, the supreme ecclesiastical court of the Jews. He was supposed to be on trial for his life; in reality the council was being judged, and in its guilt the entire nation was involved. The rulers convicted themselves of prejudice, dishonesty, and malice. They did not seek to learn the truth that justice might be done; they sought to find some evidence on which Jesus might be condemned.
When every attempt to convict Jesus had failed, they finally charged him in the words: “If thou art the Christ, tell us.” Jesus' reply shows how fully he appreciated their blind hatred and their unwillingness to be just; he told them that no statement he might make would be believed, and that no explanation or defense he might offer would be accepted; nevertheless, he would answer their question, with the statement that his exaltation to the place of divine power was about to take place. Then they asked him directly, “Art thou then the Son of God?” He answered with all distinctness, “Ye say that I am.” Then they at once decreed that he was worthy of death. They had prejudged the case. They were unwilling to consider whether his claim to be the Son of God was true; they only wished to be sure that he made the claim. When they had made sure of this, they agreed that he must die as a blasphemer. Their logic was so far true. There is no other alternative. In the presence of Christ there can be no neutrality. Either he was an impostor who deserves our contempt, or else he is the divine Son of God whom we must worship and obey. Every soul must choose between the sanhedrin and the Church.
The Jews had been deprived by their Roman conquerors of the right to inflict capital punishment. When, therefore, their chief council had decided that Jesus was worthy of death, the rulers brought him to Pilate, the Roman governor, that he might confirm their sentence and execute the cruel penalty of crucifixion. The trial before Pilate developed into a disgraceful contest between the murderous and determined Jewish rulers and the weak and vacillating Roman governor, who was at last compelled to act contrary to his conscience and his desire and to submit his will to that of the subjects whom he detested.
Luke gives only a bare outline of the story, which is sketched best by the apostle John. Enough, however, is given to show the infamous baseness of the Jews and the futile endeavors of Pilate to avoid the judicial murder which he finally committed. The Jewish rulers had asked Pilate to pronounce sentence without hearing the charge; this Pilate properly refused to do. When the accusation was made, Luke shows most clearly how craftily the decision of the Jewish court was perverted, and how forcibly the false charge was presented. Jesus had been convicted of claiming to be the divine Messiah. It was the claim of deity, and thus of blasphemy, on which he was condemned. The Jews knew that this would make no impression on Pilate. However, the office of Messiah did imply rule and authority, and therefore the claim of Jesus was distorted into a political offense and he was charged with sedition, with forbidding tribute to Cæsar, and with claiming to be a king.
How absurd all these accusations were, Pilate soon learned; he probably was not a little suspicious of the sudden zeal for their Roman tyrants shown by these rebellious Jews. However, he lacked the courage of his convictions; he declared Jesus to be innocent, but fearing to offend the rulers and the crowds whom they had won to their will, he hesitated to release Jesus. That was a fatal step; the only thing to do is to act with decision and promptness as soon as one sees what is right. It is surely true in matters of conscience that “he who hesitates is lost.”
Then Pilate did what all weak men are apt to do: he attempted to avoid making a decision; he tried to shift the responsibility; he learned that Jesus was from Galilee, and so Pilate sent Jesus to be judged by King Herod, within whose realm Galilee lay. Herod was then in Jerusalem, and he was eager to see Jesus, of whom he had heard so much, and he hoped that his curiosity might be gratified by seeing Jesus perform some miracle. However, when appearing before Herod, Jesus refused even to answer him by a single word. Jesus has a message for every penitent, and a miracle for every believer; but for the murderer of John and for the shallow, sinful profligate there is only silence and contempt.
To wreak upon Jesus a petty revenge, Herod mocked Jesus by clothing him with royal apparel, and sent him back thus arrayed to Pilate. It was a cruel jest, but it was an acquittal of Jesus as guilty of no political offense. Thus Pilate was forced to act as judge; others cannot decide for us questions of conscience. When compelled to act, Pilate attempted a second maneuver familiar to all weak souls; he proposed to compromise. He would do what was wrong but he would avoid the crime of murder. He offered to scourge Jesus, whom he declared to be absolutely innocent, or to release him as a notable criminal, as one such was usually released at this feast. On the one hand, he would be subjecting Jesus to the most agonizing bodily torture; on the other, he would brand Jesus as a malefactor who had deserved death. Compromise in a case of conscience is always a sign of weakness, and the enemy is sure to press his advantage. As the rulers saw Pilate yielding thus far, they asked for the release of a notorious murderer by the name of Barabbas; and as they saw Jesus coming forth from the scourging, torn and bleeding, they cried out for his life, “Crucify him, crucify him.” As Pilate hesitated, the rulers used their most deadly weapon; they suggested that they would report Pilate to the emperor as shielding a political revolutionist; they would imperil the position and life of the governor. This attack Pilate could not withstand; when some personal loss was involved conscience was no longer to be considered. He decided to do what he knew to be wrong; he “gave sentence that what they asked for should be done;” and so doing he placed himself near the head of that long list of moral cowards who share his eternal infamy for fearing to do the right.
The degradation of the Jewish rulers was even greater. With all their knowledge of the moral law, they who professed to be special representatives of God put to death his Son, and chose a murderer instead of the Saviour. To the tragedy of such a choice Luke refers with horror in the only personal comment he makes upon the scene. V. 25. Are not thousands, however, making that same choice to-day? There can be no neutral ground; indecision is impossible: one must choose either Barabbas or Christ.
The Gospel narratives spare us the distressing details of the crucifixion; this was the most cruel and agonizing form of death; but the facts are written with surprising delicacy and reserve. As Jesus was being led from the city a certain Simon of Cyrene was pressed into the service of bearing his cross. The cause of this action is purely a matter of conjecture. Its result was to give Simon immortal fame and apparently to secure for him eternal salvation; for it seems that this experience, and the knowledge of Christ gained at Calvary, resulted in the conversion of Simon and his household, Mark 15:21; Rom. 16:13. In a figure, he was the first of that long line of men and women who have taken up the cross and followed Christ. Of course this is a mere symbol, and the actual contrasts are vital. In reality no one can share the burden of the cross which our Saviour bore. His sufferings, and his alone, made atonement for sin. Then again no one can be compelled to take up the cross. There are burdens in life which cannot be evaded but one can refuse the cross. It is a type of the voluntary suffering endured for the sake of Christ; it is a symbol of the complete sacrifice of self and the complete submission to his will which is necessary for all who share in the redeeming benefits of his death.
Luke alone records the incident of the women who, wailing and lamenting, followed Jesus out of the city. It is quite fitting that in this Gospel, in which womanhood is so exalted, a place should be found for this picture. It is not to be supposed that these were the loyal friends who had followed Jesus on his journeys and helped to supply his needs; these were rather residents of Jerusalem whose hearts were bleeding with sorrow for the loving Prophet who was being led forth to an agonizing death. Our Lord turned to these women with a message of sympathy and told them that they were not to weep for him but for themselves and their children. He was not rebuking them for their compassion; he rather meant to indicate that while his sufferings were pitiful, their own were more worthy of tears, for they were to be even more intense. He had in mind the destruction of the city due to its impenitence and made certain by its rejection of the Redeemer. Jesus declared that the days would come when childlessness would be a ground for congratulation because of the universal distress. He predicted that the horror would be so great that men would call upon the mountains to fall on them and the hills to cover them, preferring such forms of death to the torments which threatened from the armies of Rome. Jesus added a proverb, the force of which is evident even though its exact application may not be clear: “For if they do these things in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry?” In other words, if the sufferings of Christ were so great, what would be the sufferings of the Jews! If the Romans were putting to death him whom they regarded as innocent, what would they do to the inhabitants of the rebellious and hated city? It is quite in accordance with the character of Luke to note how Jesus, in this very hour of his anguish, thought rather of others than of himself and pronounced this prophesy, not in resentment, but in infinite tenderness and pity.
While the actual sufferings of the crucifixion are not described, Luke tells us of the cruel mockery to which Jesus was subjected. He states that two malefactors were crucified with Jesus, “one on the right hand and the other on the left.” This was evidently designed to add to the disgrace and humiliation of his cruel death. The place of the crucifixion was called “The skull,” probably because it was a bare, rounded hill located outside the city gates.
Of the seven words spoken by Jesus on the cross, Luke records three, all of them characterized by love and trust. The first is found in no other Gospel. As Jesus tasted the first bitterness of his anguish he was heard to pray, “Father forgive them; for they know not what they do.” He did not have in mind simply the soldiers who were involuntary instruments of his death, but rather the Jews who had not fully recognized the enormity of their crime. For them Jesus felt no hatred in his heart. He yearned for their repentance and their salvation. This prayer was a revelation of the matchless grace and mercy of this ideal Man. Luke adds the details of the mockery to which the other evangelists likewise refer. The crowds stood gazing upon the Sufferer but the rulers and the soldiers cruelly mocked him; the former scoffed at him saying, “He saved others; let him save himself.” In reality, had he saved himself, he never could have saved others. He died for the very men who were deriding him, to make possible their salvation. The soldiers made sport of him by casting lots for his garments and by offering him drink and hailing him as “King of the Jews.” This last title had been placed on the cross above the head of Jesus. It was put there by Pilate in bitter irony. It was his way of taking revenge upon the rulers who, contrary to his conscience, had compelled him to put to death an innocent Man. In place of this superscription the eye of faith sees another, “Behold, the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world!”
This story which enshrines for us the second saying of our Lord upon the cross has often been regarded as one of the most significant narratives in the Gospels: first, because it gives us such a picture of the unique person of Christ; here was a dying man who at the same time was a forgiving God. Then, here is a picture of the transforming power of Christ who in an instant of time changed a robber into a saint. Most of all, we have here a message of the conditions of salvation which are ever the same, namely, repentance and faith. The first of these conditions is strikingly illustrated from the fact that the repentant thief was thinking of God and remembering that it was against a divine Being that he had sinned. Of this fact he reminded his companion, intimating that they might properly fear him into whose august presence they were so soon to be ushered. It is the very essence of repentance to regard sin, not as a mistake or a weakness, or as an injury to men, but as rebellion and insult against God. His penitence was further shown in his recognition that the penalty which he was suffering was just, and in his recognition of the innocent sufferings of Christ.
His faith was as remarkable as his repentance. He saw in the bleeding, dying Sufferer, One who is yet to return as universal King, and to him he addressed his prayer: “Jesus, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom.” We do not know the source of such faith. The robber may have heard part of the trial of Jesus; he did hear him praying for his enemies; but whatever gave rise to his belief and trust, he regarded Jesus as a Saviour and Lord who was yet to reign and who could bring him to eternal glory. This story thus reveals to us the truth that salvation is conditioned upon repentance and faith. However, it contains other important messages also. It declares that salvation is independent of sacraments. The thief had never been baptized, nor had he partaken of the Lord's Supper. It is obvious that had he lived he would have carried out the requirements of his Lord by accepting these sacraments. He did, in fact, boldly confess his faith in the presence of a hostile crowd and amid the taunts and jeers of rulers and soldiers, yet he was saved without any formal rites.
It is further evident that salvation is independent of good works. The thief was pardoned before he had lived a single, righteous, innocent day. Of course, good works follow faith; they evidence its reality; but faith precedes and results in holiness. A life of goodness is an expression of gratitude for salvation already begun.
It is further evident that there is no “sleep of the soul.” The body may sleep, but consciousness persists after death. The word of the Master was, “To-day shalt thou be ... in Paradise.” Again it is evident that there is no “purgatory.” If any man ever needed discipline and “purifying fires,” it was this penitent robber. Out of a life of sin and shame he passed immediately into a state of blessedness. This was the promise: “To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.”
Again it may be remarked that salvation is not universal. There were two robbers; only one was saved. Jesus had heard them both speaking of him. He did not say “ye,” but “Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.”
Last of all, it may be noted that the very essence of the joy which lies beyond death consists in personal communion with Christ. The heart of the promise to the dying thief was this: “Thou shalt be with me.” This is our blessed assurance, that to depart is “to be with Christ,” which is “very far better.”
The death of Christ was an event of such supreme importance that it properly was accompanied by supernatural signs of deep significance. Of these Luke mentions two. The first was the darkened skies, a fit symbol of the blackest crime in all the history of man. The second was the rending of the Temple veil, a type of the “new and living way” opened into the presence of God for all believers. Thus these two signs correspond to the human and the divine aspects of this atoning death, and indicate the heinousness of sin and the purpose of redeeming grace.
The last word spoken by Jesus on the cross was an expression of perfect trust and peace. He had shown his sympathy for others by his prayer, by his promise to the penitent thief, and by his provision for his mother; by three other words he had revealed his sufferings of mind and body and their result in a completed redemption: “My God, my God ...” ; “I thirst;” “it is finished.” He now breathed out his soul in a sentence of absolute confidence taken from the psalmist and recorded by Luke alone: “Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.” It was the supreme utterance of faith. The earthly ministry of the Son of God had ended.
Luke notes the effects produced by the manner of Jesus' death, and by the accompanying signs upon the Roman centurion, the Jewish multitudes, and the Christian disciples. The soldier was so impressed that he “glorified God,” giving his testimony to the fact that the One whom he had crucified as a criminal was a “righteous man.” Possibly he may be regarded as a type of that host of believing Gentiles, of whom Luke liked to write, who were yet to enlist under the banner of the cross.
The crowds of Jews had little real desire for the crucifixion of Jesus; they had been hounded by their rulers to cry out for his death, but they now returned to the city “smiting their breasts” in an agony of remorse, a prophecy of Israel's future repentance and mourning as they “look on him whom they pierced.”
Most pathetic of all was that group of saddened disciples who “stood afar off” gazing in bewilderment upon the scene; but for them the meaning of that cross would begin to dawn as they should meet their risen Lord. For none of his followers has the cross lost its mystery; yet to them all it has become a symbol of triumph and of hope.
The body of Jesus was given burial by Joseph of Arimathæa, a man whom Matthew designates as rich, Mark as a “councillor of honorable estate,” and Luke as “good and righteous.” Thus together they describe an ideal man from the Jewish and Roman and Greek point of view. Perhaps he is to be criticized for not having identified himself before this more publicly with the cause of Christ; but Luke makes not the slightest unfavorable reflection upon his character. He declares definitely that this powerful and influential member of the sanhedrin “had not consented” to the “counsel and deed” of the rulers who had compassed the death of Jesus; and now in the hour when his Master was most deeply dishonored, he risked the scorn of the people and the hatred of the rulers and begged from Pilate the body of Jesus, which he wrapped in linen cloth and lay reverently in his own new, rock-hewn tomb. It was a deed of loving devotion, and adds a gratifying contrast and a touch of tenderness to the story of the cross.
Other loving hearts longed to have a part in this expression of affection. The women who had followed Jesus out of Galilee, noted the place of his burial and purchased perfumes to embalm the body of their Lord. However, as the declining sun marked the beginning, at eventide, of the Sabbath, they rested until the first day of the week, and then they found that their task was needless. It was well to show affection for the crucified Master, it is a greater privilege to serve a risen Lord.
After seeing where Jesus was buried the women who had followed him from Galilee and had ministered to him, began preparing spices and ointments with which to embalm his body. However, as the day drew to its close, because this Friday evening was the beginning of a Jewish Sabbath, they rested from their labor of love until Sunday, “the first day of the week,” and then “at early dawn” they came to the tomb, but were astonished to find that the body of Jesus was gone.
There are several explanations of this empty tomb, but only one which is credible and which accords with the facts. Some persons profess to believe that Jesus did not die, that he only swooned upon the cross, that he regained consciousness after being laid in the tomb, that he escaped and then appeared to his disciples; but Jesus had declared that he was to die and was to rise again on the third day, and he afterwards made his disciples believe that such an experience had been his; this theory, therefore, cannot be held without denying the honesty and morality of our Lord.
A second theory maintains that “his disciples came by night, and stole” away his body; but these disciples continually declared that he rose from the dead on the third day; according to this theory, then, these disciples were impostors; but this can be believed by no one familiar with their subsequent lives and influence.
It is as impossible to believe the third theory namely, that the enemies of Jesus stole his body, for had that body been in their possession, how gladly they would have produced it and thus forever have silenced the disciples who declared that Jesus was alive and that his resurrection proved these enemies had put to death an innocent Man, their divine Messiah.
The only true explanation of this empty tomb is that given to the wondering women by two angels: “Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen: remember how he spake unto you when he was yet in Galilee.” This startling statement of the angels embodies the substance of the message delivered by the apostles. The truth it declares forms the corner stone of Christian faith. The resurrection of our Lord is vitally connected with all the realities which relate to his person and work and to the life of his followers.
When, however, the fact of the resurrection had been reported to the apostles, they regarded the words of the women “as idle talk, and they disbelieved them.” This incredulity on the part of the apostles shows the absolute absurdity of another theory advanced by those who deny the resurrection of our Lord, namely, the theory that his followers so eagerly expected him to rise from the dead that their fevered brains finally imagined that he had so risen and they testified to what was only a product of their own fancy. In reality the disciples did not expect Jesus to rise, and, as here recorded, when the truth was reported to them, they refused to accept it until proof upon proof had been given them and doubt and unbelief became absolutely impossible. They were prepared, however, for further proofs by the fact that the tomb in which the body was laid had been found empty. There is even more weighty evidence of the resurrection; but those who deny this supremely important event must give first some rational account of this empty tomb.
No man saw Christ rise; but many saw the risen Christ. He appeared to Mary and to Peter and to James and to “the eleven” and to more than five hundred disciples at one time; but of the appearances on the day of his resurrection none is recorded with more dramatic vividness and more definiteness of detail than that related by Luke when Jesus walked with two disciples toward Emmaus.
This village was probably situated some seven miles northwest of Jerusalem. Thither these two men were moving with sad and discouraged hearts when Jesus joined them and drew from them expressions of their disappointment and despair. The One on whom they had set their hopes of redemption for Israel had been put to death, and although he had spoken mysteriously of a resurrection on the third day, the day was passing, and he had not been seen, although it was true that reports had reached them of a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Such in substance seem to have been their words, in no small measure a confession of obstinate unbelief. They had little expectation that the Lord would fulfill his own promises; the third day of which he had spoken was not ended and yet they were hopelessly turning their backs upon Jerusalem; heavenly messengers had sent them an announcement of cheer which they refused to receive.
It was not strange, therefore, that Jesus rebuked them: “O foolish men, and slow of heart to believe in all that the prophets have spoken! Behooved it not the Christ to suffer these things, and to enter into his glory?” It is noticeable that Jesus did not chide them for refusing to accept his own words, or those of their friends, or those of angels; they were rebuked for not believing the Old Testament. They had accepted it in part; as men often accept just so much as suits their prejudices and tastes and notions; but they failed to believe in all that the prophets had spoken, and particularly the predictions of Jesus' atoning death, and of his return to the heavenly glory which he would share when he ascended. They listened in wonder to his explanation of the Scriptures, and finally as they were sitting at meat with him they discovered that they were in the actual presence of their living Lord. As he disappeared from sight, they hastened back to the disciples in Jerusalem and found them already wondering at the news that earlier in the day Jesus had appeared to Peter.
No story tells us more impressively the truth that a divine Saviour walks beside us all the way of our earthly journey. It is pathetic that our eyes are so often dimmed by unbelief that we fail to realize his presence. We walk and are sad while we might be rejoicing in his companionship. It may be as the Scriptures are opened to us, or as we meet to break bread in his name, that our blindness will be removed; and surely when the journey ends and we enter the home toward which we are moving, we shall see him face to face, and the vision will not fade in deepening twilight, but grow more glorious through the eternal day.
The incidents of the day on which Jesus rose from the dead, as recorded by Luke, form not only a sequence in time, but also move in logical order. The empty tomb can be explained by no other theory than that of a resurrection; but this was only negative proof. To it was added the actual appearance of Jesus to two disciples on their way to Emmaus. Yet this was not evidence enough. Some persons might believe that such an appearance had been a mere vision, a phantom, a ghost; therefore, as Luke relates the appearance of Jesus to the eleven disciples in the upper room, after night had fallen, he lays stress upon the fact that Jesus appeared in bodily form. When the disciples saw him they thought that they did see a mere specter, an apparition, a spirit, just as many persons have thought, even to the present day; but to forever dispel such a false impression, Jesus, by every possible appeal to the senses, made it evident that he possessed not an “immaterial,” or “spiritual,” or “celestial” body, but the identical body of flesh and blood which on Friday had been crucified and laid in the tomb; in that actual body, scarred by the cruel nails, a body capable of eating food, a material body which could be touched and felt, he appeared to his disciples. Moreover, he solemnly declared that he was not a disembodied spirit; he showed them the wounds in his hands and feet; he declared that a spirit does not have flesh and bones which they saw he had; and finally, to remove every lingering doubt, he took “a piece of a broiled fish” and “ate before them.” The appearances and disappearances of Jesus after his resurrection may have been mysterious or miraculous as was his walking upon the sea in the days of his previous ministry; but he gave his disciples to understand by every conceivable, sensible sign that he had risen from the dead in his actual, physical, human body. The theory that the resurrection can be explained as a hallucination, a vision, or an apparition is forever silenced by the testimony of Luke, the careful historian, the intelligent physician. Upon the foundation of the established fact of a literal, bodily resurrection, this superstructure of our Christian faith firmly stands.
It need not be supposed that the last words of Jesus as recorded by Luke were spoken on the day of the resurrection or at any one time or place. They more probably indicate the general substance of those teachings which are given by the risen Christ to his disciples during the forty days between his resurrection and his ascension.
They are luminous with truths which are needed by the disciples of Christ to-day. Among them are such facts as these: The Scriptures contain authoritative messages concerning Christ; these messages can be understood only by those who believe in Christ and are guided by him; the essential truths concerning Christ center in the facts of his death and resurrection; in virtue of the salvation thus secured, repentance and forgiveness of sins can be preached; this salvation is to be proclaimed in all the world; the followers of Christ are the messengers by whom this good news is to be made known; the power for such proclamation is imparted by the Spirit of Christ who was manifested in new power on the Day of Pentecost, and who is now an abiding Presence and a source of limitless strength to all who seek to do the will of Christ and to glorify his name.
The ascension of our Lord was an event quite distinct from the resurrection; it occurred nearly six weeks later, and indicates a number of supremely important truths.
1. Jesus then withdrew from the sphere of the seen and physical to the sphere of the unseen and spiritual. He did not pass up or down through vast spaces of the skies. We are not to think of him as far away. He is an unseen, divine Presence, superior to the limitations of time and space, and capable of being manifest in any period or place. The ascension should make us feel that Jesus is near rather than far away.
2. Jesus then assumed universal power; not at the time of his resurrection, but at the time of his ascension, he was seated “on the right hand of the Majesty on high.” This indicates divine omnipotence. It is the continual representation of the New Testament that Jesus Christ has all authority in heaven and on earth. The ascension should therefore remind us of the limitless power of Christ.
3. It was therefore at the time of the ascension that Jesus entered “into his glory.” Then it was that his body was transformed, made deathless, “spiritual,” celestial, immortal; and then he again began to share the divine glory which he had with the Father “before the world was.” The ascension, therefore, is a pledge and type of the glory which yet awaits his followers. It is an assurance that he yet will fulfill his promises and will again appear; emerging from the sphere of the unseen he will be manifested to all mankind as both the ideal Man and as the Saviour of the world.