The silent Nazarene

BT 301 . S642 1917
Sperow, Everett H.

The silent Nazarene

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SILENT NAZARENE

BY

EVERETT H. SPEROW, A.M., B.D.

By the Author of “The Rose of Sharon ’

BOSTON: THE GORHAM PRESS

TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED

Copyright, 1917, by Everett H. Sperow

All Rights Reserved

Made in the United States of America

The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A.

TO

MY MOTHER

WHO WAS MY FIRST TEACHER,
AND WHOSE MEMORY IS SACRED,

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED IN GRATEFUL AFFECTION

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. HOW HE CAME FORTH.9

What He Was—Our Vindicator—The Quiet
Life in Nazareth—At the Age of Twelve—The
Baptism—The Temptation—They Followed
Him—They Eyed Him—The Prayer.

II. HOW HE GAVE AUTHORITY TO THE

NEW TEACHING.81

The New Teaching — Legion—Compassion on
the Multitude.

III. HOW HE FOUND FAITH IN THE

EARTH.95

Why Miraclef—The Paralytic—The Leper —

The Womans Touch—The Centurions Faith
—The Nobleman s Faith—The Syrophcenician
Woman—“And He Healed Many”—The
New Birth—The Living Water—The Sinful
Woman Forgiven.

IV. HOW HE ENTERED THE SHADOW

OF THE CROSS.165

The Break with the Pharisees—The Great Con¬
fession—The Transfiguration—The Epileptic —

The Entrance of the King—The Great Con¬
solation—The Passover.

5

Contents

6

CHAPTER

V. HOW HE TOOK UP HIS CROSS . . .

Gethsemane—The Betrayal — Judas—The San¬
hedrin—The Denial—Christ Before Pilate —
The Crucifixion.

VI. HOW HE CAME FORTH AGAIN . . .

They Bar His Tomb—The Resurrection—The
Waiting.

PAGE

195

269

1

HOW HE CAME FORTH

THE SILENT NAZARENE

WHAT HE WAS

The only creed that’s worth the name,
Must grow from out the need;

A fire from God—a sacred flame —

The life of Christ indeed .

T HE object of this little work is not to
set forth a life of Christ; nor yet to dis¬
cuss doctrine; nor even attempt any critical
analysis either textual or otherwise: but its
simple aim is to make emphatic what Christ
was as the all important factor in determining
the value of what he said and did. Christ
was more than anything he ever said or did,
just as the Creator is more than the product
of His creation, however important that prod¬
uct may be. The miracles apart from Christ
would be dim and shadowy, but associated
with him they are both reasonable and natu¬
ral : by this is meant they are what would be

10

The Silent Nazarene

expected from one who had such a grip upon
the centre of infinite possibilities, 'and are
natural out of such a supreme faith to work
out possibilities. No one can read Matt.
11: 27 without saying, Here is a person that
makes extraordinary claims for himself. But
when we turn to the gospels we find the per¬
son making these claims living in harmony
with them. He goes at his work as one fully ac¬
quainted with God—he claims that he finds
no break between his character and that of
the being of God himself. This gives him a
place to himself and distinguishes him from
the rest of mortals. He lives first before
he says; what he lives is but an expression of
what he is. He lived it first among the few,
but now it is gone even into the most obscure
places of the earth, and has as a silent leaven
modified the lives of men of every rank and
description in some way: even if they are not
Christians they are yet under the rule and
influence of Christianity whether they will or
not, and too the heathen nations recognize
that there is something extraordinary about
those nations that have to do with this Man of
Nazareth. Jesus said: “No man knoweth
the Son, but the Father; neither knoweth any
man the Father save the Son, and he to whom-

How He Came Forth 11

soever the Son will reveal him.” He held
common knowledge with the Father. He was
on easy, familiar terms with God. Also “He
knew what was in man.” So knowing both
God and man he translates or interprets God
to man in terms of the human with which we
are acquainted. That is, he reveals the Father
to those who get the value of the life of the
Christ himself. The conceptions of the great¬
ness of Christ’s teachings are in proportion
to the greatness of conception of what Christ
himself is. As Beecher somewhere says,
“Whenever I think of the Father apart from
Jesus Christ he becomes a distant glow. He
is too great and too vast. I cannot grasp him.
All I know of the Father I see in Jesus. He
is God for me.” How many others with
Beecher must make a like confession. Hence
Christ has made good his claim in Matt.
ii : 27. It has the ring of genuineness and of
truth to it, both when we view the New Testa¬
ment records and when we look at the world
in the throbbing heart of which is the life of
Christ.

Yes, he was placed here as a man, with
the ordinary means of a man so far as the
world could see. He meets situations and cir¬
cumstances, masters them and towers above

12

The Silent Nazarene

them. He makes all things serve him well.
Even the madness of men cannot deprive him
of his lordly might. He is supreme on every
occasion. He wraps bold presumption and
daring in defeat at his feet. His enemies
who have sought to thrust themselves upon
him must retire in defeat, saying “Never man
spake like this man.” What Jesus was si¬
lently defeated all opposition. Even when
his persecutors broke his body, they only broke
the vessel to let the great soul out into the
world. Yes, Christ walked on through the
grave to take the world.

Our Vindicator

Humanity has had the shroud of lone¬
liness drawn over it because of the un¬
equalness of the struggle that the best within
has had in asserting itself. And, lo, how it
must fall back seemingly worsted; yes, from
the wonted point of view as having lost out
while the merciless floodtide of the grossness
and viciousness of sin rolls over it. Even its
groans cannot be heard as it goes down be¬
neath the relentless floodtide. Is all lost in
this bleakness of scathing, prowling death?
There comes a sigh, even from out the loath-

How He Came Forth

13

some mass of corruption, yes, it is a plainer
whisper, now it is a faint speech—indeed
a voice speaking plainly, “I know that my vin¬
dicator liveth.” This lonely humanity has
all the while been feeling that its vindicator
has been working too—helping and as¬
sisting the good in the conquest, not wait¬
ing for the “last day,” but in the now having
placed the true, the good, and the faithful
higher in the scale of the ascendency and so
nearer its final triumph for the last day when
it shall stand forth in its achieved victory in
pure white fully vindicated. Humanity looks
out of its dark struggle at the opening of the
door through which its only ray of light and
hope comes, and, lo, there the great white
Christ stands—humanity fully vindicated
right before their eyes. Why should God
give such a vision to mortals? Look again
at the white Christ and see. Because of his
love he has thus opened his heart to mortals
—God so loved the world that they of the
earth might see and know that in the stainless
Christ all flesh can find a vindicator—even
one who will set matters right for them—a
goel, one who can walk in earth and who can
touch our struggle on every side and come off
stainless, a great high Priest who can be

H

The Silent Nazarene

touched with our infirmity and yet without
sin. We do not want such a one lifted into
the high heavens for there is enough of white¬
ness there, but we need him right down in the
heart of our suffering. A voice from the past
comes up through the centuries, even from
the shores of the beautiful sea of Galilee,—
“Right there you will find him for he is in
your midst as he that serveth. He is not satis¬
fied to escape stainless from the struggle,
but has chosen rather to go down into the heat
of the struggle and remain there to assist the
worsted in their crying needs. He came not
to be ministered unto but to minister.

If so be that Christ has come we long to
know how he came naturally into our order
to minister. We long to see him in the bosom
of the home, giving those sacred relations the
flower of his life. How about those thirty
quiet years in the bosom of the peace of the
home at Nazareth when he is known by his
countrymen as the carpenter? Those sacred
glimpses are withheld from our eyes. But
at the age of twelve there comes forth a flash
of divine consciousness out of those years of
silence. Then too he left the trace of filial
obedience which when conceived in the heart
of the home places it without a peer in the

How He Came Forth

15

earth. When he came forth from that home
he did smite the enemy on every side. He
went direct into the heat of conflict, and by
his righteous life made evil to roll back upon
itself while he busied himself relieving men
from their suffering. Even at the very outset
men put him in a distinct, unique place—
and that place is right in the heart of their
needs. When his presence calls them—the
fisherman, the publican, and the distinguished
citizen of Cana leave all and follow him.
There is something about him they cannot
explain, but they know that they have need
of him. It takes some time to sift out the
real need but they turn not from following
him.

The Quiet Life in Nazareth

“If Jesus Christ is a man —

And only a man—I say
That of all mankind I cleave to him,
And to him will I cleave alway .

“If Jesus Christ is a God —

And the only God—I swear
I will follow him through heaven and hell,
The earth, the sea, the air A

Gilder.

The Silent Nazarene

16

In a basin-like depression among the foot¬
hills of Lower Galilee nestles the quiet, un¬
pretentious town of Nazareth. A few hills
separate it from the highway of nations
through which the flower of civilizations
poured the bulk of their trade and the choice
of their armies. The centuries bring nothing
of greatness out of this hill-bound town of
Galilee. But bound in by those hills it is
passed and repassed by the caravans of the
merchants who are “clothed in purple and
fine linen and who fare sumptuously every
day,” and by the armies of valiant men who
give battle upon the great plains—in passing
to and from world conquests. This village
peacefully sleeps back of Gentile pressed Gal¬
ilee as civilizations come forth and shine in
resplendent fairness, each in its turn dominat¬
ing the world. The nations clearly mark and
define the borders of Galilee round about.
Did they threaten to sever her from the rest
of Israel by appropriating to themselves this
great highway through the heart of the plain
of Megiddo? The prowess of nations concen¬
trate the flower of their strength in these
plains. Here they fought more than twenty
battles to decide the world championship.
Many nations looked with covetous eyes upon

How He Came Forth

17

this plain which held the key of world domin¬
ion. But all this while Jehovah was mind¬
ful of their intents and set bounds to their
fierce rage that they might not in their stolid,
sordid greed separate his people altogether.
They might pass this way and even pitch their
tents among his people but beyond this the
Lord of hosts would not suffer them to go.

Did Nazareth sleep as the God of battles
was watching over with a jealous eye? Cer¬
tainly she put forth her hand and took some
toll out of the wealth of the nations as the
long trains laden with exceeding costly treas¬
ures passed by so near her door. And too
she had her synagogue. Surely she must find
some one of wealth who because of his afflu¬
ence is schooled in the niceties of the Jewish
civilization to speak for her. And lo, and
behold, one of her sons comes forth to make
her the astounding centre of the world civili¬
zation for all time to come. But he is a car¬
penter. You gasp! Thirty years move si¬
lently over the head of this carpenter too, and
he has lived within the narrow limits of this
quiet village with all the things after which
the Gentiles seek roaring and thundering by
just outside of its gates. This carpenter be¬
ing about thirty years of age, begins to preach.

18 The Silent Nazarene

His teachings at once reverse the old order
of things and men are astonished beyond meas¬
ure with the “new doctrine.” His method of
teaching too is so different from that of the
scribes—he teaches out of a consciousness of
a oneness with God and not from the compli¬
cated footnotes of the precise fathers.

He naturally comes to his home to teach
when he is about to begin his ministry. He
enters the synagogue upon the Sabbath where
his fellow countrymen are assembled for in¬
struction in the things of the law of Moses and
of the prophets. He stands up to read. They
do not take exception to his conduct, but
hand him the book of Isaiah. He opens the
book and reads from the place where it was
written,

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

Because he anointed me to preach good tid¬
ings to the poor:

He hath sent me to proclaim release to the
captives,

And recovering of sight to the blind,

To set at liberty them that are bruised,

To proclaim the acceptable year of the
Lord.”

Closing the book, he gives it back to the

How He Came Forth

19

attendant and sits down: and the eyes of all
in the synagogue are fastened on him. Then
he begins to say to them, “To-day is this scrip¬
ture fulfilled in your ears.” As he speaks
to them they are filled with astonishment at
the words of grace that proceed out of his
mouth. Some do not wish to acknowledge
what the force of the words have borne in
upon them. Their pride is offended, saying,
“Is not this Joseph’s son?” Others would put
it stronger, saying, “Is not this the carpenter,
the son of Mary, the brother of James, and
Joses, and Judas, and Simon? and are not his
sisters here with us?” They know all about
this man—every member of his immediate
family is known to them, and they know his
former occupation too. But they have heard
of the great works of healing at Capernaum.
He forestalls them, saying, “Doubtless ye will
say unto me this parable, Physician, heal thy¬
self: Whatsoever we have heard done at Ca¬
pernaum, do also in thine own country.” They
are telling him that is the very thing they
expect of him. “No man seeks to be great
and refuses to let it be known.” At this the
young Teacher speaks very decidedly, saying,
“Verily I say unto you, No prophet is accept¬
able in his own country.” They are filled with

20

The Silent Nazarene

wrath which added to their offended pride
cause them to cast him out of the city and
lead him forth to the brow of the hill upon
which their city stood that they might throw
him down headlong. “But he passing
through the midst of them went his way.”

This life came forth not to be withered by
the blight of jealousy, pride, and vanity, but
to shine in spite of it. He breathed into the
heart of humanity the spirit 6f loving service
that would surely and ultimately displace this
bold monster that is stalking mid the rights
of men and is responsible for so many ills
and heart-cryings. Jesus made the human
divine and the divine human, both to shine in
human needs—Immanuel.

At the Age of Twelve

Many boys played upon the hills about
Nazareth in sight of Mt. Carmel where the
sturdy, thorough-going old prophet put to
death the false prophets of Baal, and reestab¬
lished the worship of Jehovah in Israel. The
lads of this village could play upon these foot¬
hills, and look directly upon the great road
passing the foot of Carmel, leading from the
plain of Sharon into the plain of Megiddo,

How He Came Forth

21

where the armies of Egypt and Philistia came
up, through which the caravans of Midian
poured. And from the same spot they could
see directly the ever present highway that led
by Jenin from Galilee into the hills of Sa¬
maria, where the pilgrims thronged every
year on their way to the temple to attend the
great feast. These lads could also gaze upon
the naked heights of Gilboa where the beau¬
tiful Jonathan was slain and where Saul in
the grip of giant despair fell upon his own
sword. How many of them thought upon the
beautiful words of David’s great elegy over
Jonathan and Saul? How many could see
naught but brazen barrenness of naked heights
frowning and staring in the face of the fertile
plains? Youths played and slept, worn out
and tired from play in the very arms of these
stirring memories. If any were stirred it was
only like the flash that flares to die. Can this
be the correct statement of the fact?

Once there was an extraordinary child that
played on these hills in whose mind the splen¬
did associations of these sacred places mingle
and cluster, kindling the great flame in his
holy imagination that would burn iout the
very dross of sinful pollution of the world.
He too sleeps like all other boys playing about

22

The Silent Nazarene

those hills—but sleeps to dream of the glories
God has shown unto his people in leading
them. This boy when tired of play could
turn his face to Carmel and see Johovah vin¬
dicated—it were as though a living picture
was ever before him of God’s sturdy prophet
and the powerless priests of Baal. The eye
of this youth could discern the fashion of this
world—with Carmel on the one side and the
highway of the Pilgrims to the temple on the
other, with the Gentiles cutting their broad
way through the heart of the plains even across
the pathway of the Pilgrims, with their long
caravans ladened with merchandise or with
the ruthless sweeping march of their armies
—their mad rush wrecking, crushing and
plundering, sparing none but grinding all be¬
neath the trampling heel of their greed. He
too would lift his eyes to the barren frowning
heights of Gilboa and see how “the mighty
had fallen” before the foes of Israel because
of disobedience to Jehovah’s commands.
Here “Jesus increased in wisdom and stature,
and in favor with God and man.”

The sun has just risen over Gilead’s heights
and has sent his flood of light down across the
great valley of Jezreel whose beauty of un¬
folding light is like a waving stream flowing

How He Came Forth

23

into the deep trenchlike valley of the Jordan.
This morning light so suggestive of Jehovah’s
deliverance of the souls of his people from
darkness is lighting up the whole plain of
Megiddo, and at the southeast corner there is
a long continuous throng of Pilgrims press¬
ing down upon the hills of Samaria. The boy
Jesus is now at the age of twelve and he is in
that throng. How often had he stood upon the
hills about Nazareth and longed to go with
that long moving throng, the van of which was
dimming out of his sight among the hills
through which they found their course to the
temple. Now he is in that throng. With what
rich anticipations he had looked forward to
this year. It had been the joy of his thought
as he searched the law and the prophets and
meditated upon the cardinal points on which
hang all the law and the prophets—all moral
and spiritual integrity of man. He had now
joined the happy throng that was moving to
the house of his Father. He had not stood
upon those hills alone but was reading the
significance of the world in the presence of
his Father, as the world of trade broadly
sweeps over the great plain into the plains of
the West as well as the counter stream from
West to East coursing into the Pride of the

24

The Silent Nazarene

Jordan, and the pilgrim throng cross the cor¬
ner of the plain to quickly vanish among the
hills that lead up through the valleys of Sa¬
maria to the altogether barren table-land of
Judea. He is now with his parents in that
Pilgrim throng going up to the feast enriched
by the world-vision he has gotten from those
hills about Nazareth in the presence of his
Father.

How the heart leaps as he comes within
sight of Bethel and with an eye full of the con¬
suming fire of godliness he sees Jacob in the
midst of his vision. He is now upon the bor¬
derland of Judea and his eye is everywhere
busy. Mighty thoughts crowd his mind as
he gets glimpses of sacred places and his feet
press the hills that are round about Jerusalem.
How he loves them, and each hill he ascends
brings him nearer his Father’s house which
is best of all. As he goes up to the house of
the Lord all the sacredness of the centuries
is heightened and made grand in him for he is
conscious that he is the Son of God. His
eye penetrates the meaning of it all. He
held the God center and the man center and
with that observation so augmented he looked
through from one centre to the other and saw
things in their proper perspective even as his

How He Came Forth

25

Father had purposed them. Yet he was re¬
garded only as boy of twelve going with his
parents up to temple as was the custom. His
parents have come to the temple and go about
their sacred duties. The boy Jesus is in his
Father’s house. He had long looked forward
to this time when he should have the privilege
of standing within the sacred courts of his
Father’s house—it was the burning purpose
of his heart.

The days are fulfilled—Mary and Joseph
have made an end of their solemn duties and
are facing about towards Galilee. The boy
Jesus tarries behind at Jerusalem, but the par¬
ents know it not, for they supposed him to be
in the company. They go a day’s journey, and
as he does not appear they seek for him among
their kinsfolk and acquaintance. They fail
to find him and turn back to Jerusalem seek¬
ing for him. After three days they find him
in the temple sitting in the midst of the doc¬
tors, both hearing them, and asking them
questions.

A glance at this scene is worth while. The
Galilean lad with face lit up with a radiance
of godliness listening to and talking with the
learned doctors—a peasant boy asking and an¬
swering questions with the astute Rabbis about

2 6

The Silent Nazarene

the law. These lawyers are amazed and as¬
tonished beyond measure. They had exer¬
cised themselves in the matters of the law as
the barren wastes of rocky semi-arid Judea
bound them in round about. They could talk
eloquently in the face of the silent rocks, but
what is their learning and eloquence when
they face this youth of Nazareth whose eye
was accustomed to sweep the great plains upon
which battles and commerce vied, and whose
mind daily was fed by meditation upon the
law and the prophets; whose eye could see the
mighty way of God’s disposing of men, armies
and nations—penetrating the heart of human
conflict and struggle? This boy who was ever
at the heart of life and viewing all struggle
in the light of his Father’s presence put to si¬
lence the learned who were thinking about
what the fathers said about the details of some
line of conduct. But this youth saw the human
ever in presence of the divine, and always suf¬
ficient for every need. “And all that heard
him were amazed at his understanding and
his answers.” They knew that his results were
correct, but with what marvelous power he
clothes his words—he teaches with authority.
But here the curtain falls. Something just
comes in to break off that conversation be-

How He Came Forth

27

tween the Galilean peasant boy and the
learned doctors—his parents find him, for his
hour is not yet come.

That search too yields its experience—a bit
of history is here also. A day’s journey out
of the city require at the best the most of a day
to retrace the steps taken. Human are they
of this little company who set their sorrowful
faces toward Jerusalem in search of their lost
boy. Would it be strange that even Mary
the mother of Jesus should be exercised about
her missing child? She has seen him wrapt in
meditation for hours. What if some hurt had
befallen him when lost to himself and his sur¬
roundings in a deep meditative frame of mind?
Is it not natural for a mother to imagine all
sorts of things that might befall the child
whose life to her is more than her own life?
The very rocks would seem to weep when that
mother would scan them with anxious eye
thinking that she just must see her boy. How
they search their lodgings within the city, in¬
quiring diligently of this one and that one who
might chance their way whether they had seen
a boy who was seeking his kinsfolks. When
they can find no trace that mother’s anxieties
become very exacting. Weary and exhausted
both physically and mentally they turn their

28

The Silent Nazarene

steps to the temple. Perhaps the officials
there can help them find a trace of the missing
boy though the crowd is great and they can
hardly hope for any such thing. They come
to a group of eager listeners. These are
grouped about the learned doctors who have
the chief authority in the Sanhedrin. As
they press closer in order to speak with these
about their missing boy, they are astonished.
That mother sees her son as the centre about
which all this crowd of listeners is grouped.
She can not help saying, “Child, why hast
thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy father and
I sought thee sorrowing.” She has told him
all. Was it a rebuke? Had she not said over
and over in her mind when searching for him?
Is it not strange for our child to thus deal with
us? So she told him that they sought him
sorrowing.

The mother spoke to that boy as mothers
are accustomed to do. But is the reply of this
lad who is in the midst of the doctors, both
hearing them, and asking them questions, as
reply of a son to his mother, having failed in
his obligation to his parent? Here is his an¬
swer without apology or plea for pardon for
having wronged his parent. Is it not rather
a gentle rebuke to the over anxious, sorrow-

How He Came Forth

29

ing parent? “How is it that ye sought me?
Knew ye not that I must be in my Father’s
house.” He speaks as though they have al¬
ready had sufficient data to know where to
find him. If they failed to recognize it, it
was due to their slowness of heart. It were as
though he were saying to his mother—“How
is it that ye sought me sorrowing? Knew ye
not that I must be in my Father’s house?
Where else could I be? I must be about my
Father’s business. Have ye not always found
me exercised in the things of my Father?
Why should you ever have had any question
where to find me?”

They understood not the saying he spake
unto them. He does not seek an argument
with them. He knows that he must be mis¬
understood as price to pay for being what he
is. So he goes down with them, and they
came to Nazareth: “and he was subject unto
them.”

The age of twelve is on one side of this un¬
fathomable depths of the silence of the life of
Jesus of Nazareth while the age of thirty is
the shoreline on the other over which the full¬
ness of his life overflows covering all Judea
and Galilee, spreading to the uttermost parts
of the earth, and filling the heaven of heavens

30

The Silent Nazarene

—such are the breadth and the height of his
life which is eternally at floodtide. But he is
to grow in wisdom and stature, and in favor
with God and man, and just live in these eight¬
een years of silence. He learns the carpenter
trade, and as he is the eldest son he must pro¬
vide for his mother, sisters, and younger broth¬
ers when Joseph is no longer spared to the
home. He must busy himself with the rou¬
tine of that humble home all these years.
After the weary hours of toil to keep that fam¬
ily together he goes up from that obscure
home to the hill-top about his village to look
upon the great plain, and the caravans of the
merchants; he gazes upon the long moving
train of merchants as the shadows lengthen,
even till the dusk and the twilight are swal-
owed up into the deep darkness. Then mid
the deep darkness he goes to his secluded place
of prayer, and there meditates and prays the
whole night. In the early morning watch he
searches the scripture, and when the press of
toil is on he thinks upon these things even as
he works at his trade. He is no recluse, but
is noted throughout his village among his fel¬
low-countrymen for the skill of his craftsman¬
ship. Even when he set forth to teach he as¬
tonished his fellow countrymen with “the

How He Came Forth 31

words of grace that proceeded out of his
mouth” so that they begin to say among them¬
selves—“Is not this the carpenter?” They
knew of his skill as a craftsman during these
silent years but knew not the greater work he
was doing in the way of preparation for his
ministry when his hour should fully come. If
we could have a record of these silent years
we should have a book full of the glowing
events of human interests. We find his con¬
duct during these silent years written all
through his teachings. Parables like those of
the good Samaritan, and the Slighted Invita¬
tion throw no little light upon the manner of
conduct of this man during these silent years.
If these years could be read they would put to
shame our vanity and striving after greatness,
comfort and fame. He by no means regarded
it as least to be exercised about the little things
of life. Note well the saneness of his teachings.
The common and mediocre were ever of great
interest to Jesus of Nazareth. In this sim¬
ple spirit his parables are framed, the color¬
ing of goodly illustrations are from the house¬
hold. Jesus loved the home, and gave thirty
of his best years to beautify and to bestow the
first place upon earth upon the home.

But how about the deportment of the

3 2

The Silent Nazarene

mother of that home after the temple affair?
We are told that “his mother kept all these
sayings in her heart.” She opens the door and
gives us a glimpse at the marriage feast at
Cana at the very beginning of his ministry.
She wishes the household to be relieved of em¬
barrassment and whispers to Jesus—“They
have no wine.” She expects him to help out
the embarrassing situation. She thereby
shows her accustomed way of turning to him
when perplexities arose in the home. She did
not noise it about among the people that she
had a remarkable son. She knew it would
all work itself out. She has been pondering
these things in her heart even ever since the
aged Simeon in the temple took the babe up
in his arms and blessed him in such a strange
manner. She still has a picture of her boy
at twelve among the learned doctors in the
temple. He has been at the feast many times
since he has grown into mature manhood but
has never entered into any discussion with the
learned lawyers. She ponders this also in
her heart that such a remarkable man should
so restrain himself (and should refrain)
from learned discussions—this is as marvel¬
ous as the youth of twelve talking with the
doctors. But when Mary intimates at the

How He Came Forth

33

marriage feast that they have no wine he gives
her a clue to his remarkable silence, saying,
“Mine hour is not yet come.” Jesus knew
when the time had fully come, when the fruit
was fully ripe in maturity, when the best pro¬
duct could be given. In all this wonderful
reserve out of which came forth the grandest
product of the centuries the wisdom of those
silent years can be read. God’s hand shapes,
and Tesus knew that what was fashioned was

J V,

the best, then why not wait for that product?

The Baptism

H ow the people throng even the thick jun¬
gle of the pride of the Jordan? The wild
beast can no longer find cover there. Throng¬
ing multitudes press through the reeds shaken
by the winds to see what? One like unto the
shaking reeds? or one clothed in soft raiment?
There stands the object of their press—even
at the very water’s edge. A sturdy preacher
clothed in camel’s hair, with a leathern girdle
about his loins, preaching in a fearless man¬
ner to the thronging multitudes. The pierc¬
ing eye of the preacher looks upon the scribes
and Pharisees coming up through those dense
jungles to the water’s edge—even edging about

34

The Silent Nazarene

as best they can so as not to touch the common
man but get next to the preacher if possible,
and fixing his eye on them and in his imagina¬
tion seeing the grass and thistle of the dry and
parched moorlands of Judea on fire and the
vipers and scorpions fleeing from their holes
before the spreading sea of fire, in all his
strength he lifts up his voice and cries out to
them: “Ye offsprings of vipers, who hath
warned you to flee the wrath to come?”

Who is this that dares to warn men with
such fiery language? As the multitudes are
left questioning among themselves who this
might be the fiery preacher vanishes within
the wilderness to eat his scanty fare of locust
and wild honey and meditate on God and the
preacher’s divine mission. After his medita¬
tion he girds up his loins with his leathern
girdle and comes forth to preach more fiercely
than ever—denouncing the sinful without re¬
gard to rank or station in life. But yet they
throng him, and the multitudes become greater
than ever. “And as the people were in great
expectation, and all men reasoned in their
hearts concerning John, whether haply he
were the Christ,” one of their leaders ventures
to put the question to the fiery preacher, say¬
ing, “Who art thou?” He answers, “I am not

How He Came Forth

35

the Christ.” “But the officials at Jerusalem
must know who thou art, fiery preacher.” So
they continue to ask, saying, “What then? Art
thou Elijah?” He answers, “I am not.”
“Art thou Jeremiah?” He answers, “No.”
Now they are at their wits’ end, and they must
know, “Who art thou? that we may give
an answer to them that sent us. What
sayest thou of thyself?” This provokes
the fiery preacher to answer. He will make
a full end now. He tells them that he
is a voice crying in the wilderness. Pre¬
pare and make ready for the coming of God’s
annointed. God himself will iron out all the
uneven and crooked places in the earth. He
will smooth things up and make straight paths
—justice and righteousness shall cover the
earth as the waters cover the sea, for God’s
Anointed is come and his zeal will perform it.
So the preacher cries out, saying:

“The voice of one crying in the wilderness,
Make ye ready the way of the Lord,

Make his paths straight.

Every valley shall be filled,

And every mountain and hill shall be
brought low;

And the crooked shall become straight,

36 The Silent Nazarene

And the rough places smooth;

And all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

After expounding this scripture the great
preacher proceeds, saying, “I indeed baptize
you with water; but there cometh he that is
mightier than I, the latchet of whose shoes I
not worthy to unloose: he shall baptize you in
the Holy Spirit and in fire: whose fan is in
his hand, thoroughly to cleanse his threshing-
floor, and to gather the wheat into his garner;
but the chaff he will burn up with unquench¬
able fire.” The preacher furthermore tells
them that the ax is already laid at the root of
the tree. There must be a clearing of the
thick jungle—the snarled scrub-tree must be
cut away. So is the judgment of God already
set to making complete work of cleaning out
the snarled trees of the jungle that cumber the
men of that generation. Such forceful preach¬
ing causes men to pause and think. So great
multitudes came to be baptized of him.

He is busy baptizing for the remission of
sins but is likewise careful to impress them
with the fact that there comes after him one
the latchet of whose shoes he is not worthy to
stoop down to unloose, who will baptize with
the Holy Spirit and with fire. His very coun-

How He Came Forth

37

tenance flashes fire as he surveys that multi¬
tude with piercing eye. He goes beneath the
surface of the appearance of things and be¬
holds the state of things as very black indeed.
So unprepared are they for the new order
which they are about to enter. The preacher
cries aloud and spares not, “Bring forth fruits
worthy of repentance, and begin not to say
within yourselves, We have Abraham to our
father.” But here is a pause. The preacher
fixes his eye upon the centre of that multitude
out of which is coming a young man about
thirty years of age.

The preacher is but six months his elder.
As he approaches the Baptist the Pharisees are
whispering among themselves, for their eyes
are in every place that they might catch some¬
thing, saying, “There goes the preacher’s cou¬
sin from Nazareth.” But what of it? The
Baptist is acting so strangely. He is actually
bowing before this man. This young man
from Nazareth is asking to be baptized of
him. The sturdy preacher who has been fear¬
less in face of the multitudes is starting back.
Listen! He is actually saying to this young
man what he has been saying to the multitudes
concerning his own unworthiness to that of
the one who is preferred before him, for he

The Silent Nazarene

was before him—even the Lord’s Anointed.
So John would hinder him, saying, “I have
need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou
to me?” The young man from Nazareth in¬
sists that it be so, saying, “Suffer it now: for
thus it becometh us to fulfill all righteous¬
ness.” Then John suffers it to be so. What
an expression of astonishment passes over the
faces of those in that multitude at the strange
conduct of the fierce preacher!

The young man from Nazareth who has
received deference from the Baptist asks for
no special privilege in the manner of his
being baptized. He steps into the muddy
Jordan as do they who are being baptized for
the remission of sins. Though he is conscious
of his sinlessness yet asks that he be baptized
as it is needful to fulfill all righteousness.
Did he say it takes a righteous man to get
under the burden of the sin of the unright¬
eous? Must he be subject to the same temp¬
tations as they who are stained with sin and
still be pure? If so he can show the way out.
Heaven sends stainless lives among the needs
of men to help them out of their sins. So
Jesus asks that no exception be made for him.
He will be exempt from none of the things
other men are subjected to. He will receive

How He Came Forth

39

his baptism and go through the sufferings and
trials that his struggle brings. But all that
the Pharisees and others of the multitude saw
was that a young man from Nazareth went
down into the muddy waters of the Jordan to
be baptized by the stern preacher who made
exception of no man till this man came, and
that though the preacher protested when re¬
quested by this young man to baptize him, yet
when the young man insists and says it is neces¬
sary to do so to fulfill all righteousness the in¬
vincible preacher is conquered by the irresisti¬
ble word of his mouth. But the inner con¬
sciousness of Jesus was to bring in a new order.

It was so. When Jesus was baptized while
he was praying—even as he was coming up
out of the water—“the heaven was opened, and
the Holy Spirit descended in a bodily form, as
a dove, upon him, and a voice came out of
heaven, ‘Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I
am well pleased.’ ” Did Jesus only see the
Spirit descending upon him in the bodily
£orm, as a dove? or, did John the Baptist see
too? or, was it even given the multitude to see
this strange manifestation of Heaven’s ap¬
proval of him who is announced as “My be¬
loved Son?” However this may be the face
of things are changed. The heavens remain

40

The Silent Nazarene

open and the Dove of God abides upon the
brow of man. Heaven approves of the way
this man is walking through the earth, and
there has gone down through the ages a deep
consciousness of a oneness with Heaven which
alone has come through this one man. Why
announce the atonement at this baptism? All
earth bears witness that he made a significant
mark there. For that matter earth was at
one with Heaven in him even in the silence
and seclusion of Nazareth.

He faces the wilderness being driven by the
Spirit. But he has cast a marvelous change
about the > preacher of righteousness. The
bold proclaimer of judgment speaks on this
wise: “Behold, the Lamb of God, that taketh
away the sin of the world! This is he of
whom I said, after me cometh a man who is
become before me: for he was before me.”
But now he is lost sight of in the wilderness,
and the great preacher of judgment announces
that the old order must give place to the new
—“He must increase, but I must decrease.”

The Temptation

This glimpse of the Christ is caught up into
silence. The lone desert; the deep solitude;

How He Came Forth

4i

the absence of human voice—naught but
the howl of a hungry brute, the satisfac¬
tion of whose hunger is the end of its ex¬
istence, breaks in upon the silence about
the struggling Christ, who is defeating and
rising above that about which the savage brute
made its fierce and weird cry. Not in the
rapture of an Eden’s gorgeous rose-meshes
where the soft light fell among the thick clus¬
tered bowers, but mid the barrenness and un¬
couthness of starved nature, with the horrid
scream of the ferocious beasts piercing the
death-stillness, the man of sorrows whose
countenance was marred as no other man re¬
mains without food for forty days and forty
nights, facing the awfulness of a sin-deluged
world, banishing every specter that came
wrapt in an Eden of subtle fancy.

Jesus in the midst of human conflict and
trial! The purest and the meekest of man¬
kind driven by the Spirit into the face of the
storm of human conflict with sin! The stain¬
less and flawless within was forced into the
white heat of human passions. Sin has raged
long, and its devouring flame has spread
scorching all. Not one has escaped though
some have been delivered with a mere singe
yet there is the mark and trace of sin. What!

42

The Silent Nazarene

is this stainless man who has a consciousness
within that there is no break between himself
and Heaven to be rushed into the wings of
this unconquerable flame? The winds of
earth-born sense are stout, fierce, and persist¬
ent in lashing the flame all about him. They
half conceal their hidden roar and bring their
fires through the most subtle and seemingly
natural way. This pure man knows what sin
is no matter under what guise it slinks in. He
has a foil for every approach.

He tarries before the face of God for forty
days and nights in meditation and prayer. Sin
tries hard to climb into his motive and imagin¬
ation but he foils it at every turn. “And
when he had fasted for forty days and forty
nights, he afterward hungered.” Satan
seizes this as his opportunity to invade his
sacred character and soil it with the stain of
sin with all mortal kind that has gone before.
But this man whose countenance is marred as
no other and whose flesh is emaciated—even
his vitality reduced to the breaking tension,
does not place his hand upon his breast, say¬
ing within himself, “Soul, thou hast remained
spotless and pure all this while, and hast much
merit laid up to thy credit, so now take a little
of the liberty that rightly is coming to thee.”

How He Came Forth

43

On such a compromise all humanity is lost.
But the Christ stands in the midst of the stony
wastes impregnable.

He fights and prays for forty days without
food. His frame is well-nigh wasted away.
The very blood begins to leave the veins. The
countenance is marred—no flush remains upon
the cheek. A man of sorrows and acquainted
with griefs with scarcely sufficient strength left
to lift his head, gazes upon the barren stones
in his meditation. The Tempter believes his
chance has come at last so he subtlely dis¬
guises himself and makes the best of things at
hand, saying, “Thou art the Son of God, how
easy it would be to change these stone into
bread and satisfy the ravishing hunger that is
wasting thy body, and thus save thy life.”

As soon as it appears Christ recognizes it.
(But what harm can it be for a starving man
to make bread and eat it when it is within his
power to do so—even at his word? So has the
world argued, and so have men lost sight of
the golden quest of life. The clamor for
bread as a necessity has superceded and
crowded out the real and chief design of life
—moral and spiritual conquest in and with
God. It bolts in as a necessity and when it
has forced its entrance it fixes its roots in a

44

The Silent Nazarene

firm grip, and lo, and behold, they are the all-
devouring roots of greed so firmly fixed that
they sap every appearance of vitality that
would yield a healthy growth of character.
So men gorge themselves with things of this
world, and crowd out the spirit’s finer need.
Hence the warning and the exhortation of the
apostle—“If Christ is in you, the body is dead
because of sin; but the spirit is life because
of righteousness.”)

Will this man turn either to the right or to
the left? Sin reigns in the mortal body and
all that turn that way is death. If the spirit
is chained about and mastered by the body it
is dead also. Spirit must have absolute mas¬
tery if it is to become the Spirit in likeness and
nature. The body must be fed only to serve
the spirit in its needs. In God’s order it has
no right to make demands upon the spirit to
fulfill its cravings and lusts. It can in nowise
cause the spirit to halt in its quest and subor¬
dinate its activities in creating bread even for
the most stinging hunger pangs. The body
must suffer discomfort till it is completely
brought under the leading of the spirit which
is directed by the Holy Spirit of God. Out
of this conflict emerges the pure white Christ
who answers Satan’s suggestion and challenge,

How He Came Forth

45

saying,

“Why ask for the power of the Spirit of
God to turn these stone to bread? Why be
over-anxious? Why seek to bring things to
pass prematurely by permitting the carnal
clamor to displace the spiritual needs? My
Father knows that I have need of all these
things and will make ample provision for the
same if I am faithful in the things that con¬
cern the kingdom. Has not the greed of men
always sought to prostitute the God-given
things of the spirit in their mad rush for
bread? Here they have lost their spiritual
freshness mid the wastes of death. It is so
with men—everything is bent to the greed of
gain. I must rise above and master these
things no matter how exacting ravishing hun¬
ger becomes in lack of bread. From the ac¬
customed carnel point of view this would seem
an act altogether justifiable but when I lift up
mine eyes unto my Father I see it the mon¬
ster devouring this humanity. “Man shall
not live by bread alone, but by every word that
proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” Satan,
I shall live after this manner of life if it re¬
quires the very last cell of my body to do so.”

“Well,” says Satan, “thou sayest that man
shall live by every word that proceedeth out

4 6

The Silent Nazarene

of the mouth of God. I too accept that state¬
ment of the truth. Spiritual things must be
experienced in order to know them. The
word of God must be tested as thou goest in
life. Here is an opportunity to test the word,
and at the same time show to the rulers of the
Jews that of a truth thou art the Messiah.
From this pinnacle of the temple in the midst
of the holy city cast thyself down into the
throng in the court, for it is written,

‘He shall give his angels charge concerning
thee; and,

On their hands they shall bear thee up,

Lest haply thou dash thy foot against a
stone.’

“Test out this word, for thou hast said a
man must live by it, and what a man must
live by must surely stand the test. Surely
thou wilt not hesitate to prove out what thou
sayest. Thou art so holy and good that God
will not suffer any harm to befall thee. Then
too thou wouldst have the rulers of this na¬
tion accept thee as their Messiah.”

But here also the Master foils the Tempter,
saying, “Subtle Tempter, thou wouldst have
me enter the ranks of sinning humanity by

How He Came Forth

47

falling into this grave error of testing God’s
word in this outward physical way where all
is lost. This wicked and adulterous genera¬
tion seeketh a sign—their lust for the miracu¬
lous is a raging mania—they would see the
power of the Messiah of God demonstrated in
some ‘strange thing,’ ;Some miraculous dis¬
play out of the heavens. This is their great
sin. Here is where they lose out. Satan,
thou wouldst in this subtle appeal wrest re¬
demption from humanity by submerging me
beneath the awful deluge of sin with all the
rest of the forlorn and wasted race. Arch¬
deceiver of the race, I will live by faith and
spiritual companionship of my Father.
Thereby all flesh must be justified in the sight
of God. Here is a foil. It is God’s word
too, and I quote it in its proper relation to
the truth it was designed to set forth. “Thou
shalt not make trial of the Lord thy God.”
But as for thee, Prince of Devils, thou know-
est perfectly well that thou hast taken the
sweetest promise of divine protection out of
its proper setting of truth and hast thrown it
into the distorted lusts of men for the curious.
Thou hast deliberately, maliciously, and will¬
fully misused a most precious portion of sa¬
cred scripture. Thou didst use it so to further

48 The Silent Nazarene

thine own infernal purpose.”

“Satan, hast thou an answer for the invinci¬
ble Christ even here?” This monster of pre¬
sumption dares even to bolt in after two such
decisive defeats. This time he takes him unto
an exceeding high mountain, and shows him
all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory
of them. Here he speaks unto him after this
wise, saying:

“Great Son of God, thou hast merited much,
and is it not for thee as God’s chosen—even
His Messiah to rule the world? The whole
will lay at thy feet at thy word. Thou hast
often gone to the mountain to pray and coun¬
sel with God. From this mountain see all
the kingdoms of the world with all their
wealth and glory! I will make thee first.
Thou shalt have no peer in all the earth. All
kings and mighty of the earth shall call thee
Lord and King. ‘All these things will I give
thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.’
I am the ‘Prince of this world,’ as thou thy¬
self wilt acknowledge. How many even less
worthy than thou art ruling in gorgeous splen¬
dor. All at my behest.”

Is the fate of lost humanity trembling in
the balances at subtle words like these? And
here too all things are in the hands of one

How He Came Forth

49

man. Humanity’s whole case rests with him.
What if he should make a misstep? Upon
that failure the fate of all humanity would
be sealed. But, lo, the Man with whom we
have to deal in this matter is the only one of
the race—he is always sure, he never sidesteps.
Standing breathless at this awful moment hu¬
manity can well wait his utterance. It is alto¬
gether decisive. Here it is, “Get thee hence,
Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship
the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou
serve.”

He sees the lie and thrusts it from him.
The pure white truth of God’s word is his
guiding star. The gorgeous apparel of the
palace could not conceal from the searching
eye of the pure white Christ the hidden sting
that blighted the world—he saw death in vain
pride, and the soul impoverished in the exub¬
erance of things of the world. The miracu¬
lous could not hide the lurid light of perverted
motive. Hunger’s pangs could not stifle and
thwart the spirit’s finer needs. Nature’s bar¬
renness, sin’s foulness—all clamoring about
a pure and spotless soul but had no power to
stain him. Spotless he came into the desert
from the baptismal stream; flawless he abode
there; stainless he came forth to take away the

50

The Silent Nazarene

sin of the world.

Edens bowers may seem fair,

Life of Christ is fairer still,

For no serpent lingers there —

All is God the Father s will.

Christ has caught upon his lips
Sweetest music of the years;

Strains of peaceful Olivet
Rise from out our mortal fears .

The scene with a back-ground of rough ex¬
posed rocks, at the ragged edges of which the
snarled and twisted, struggling, starved scrub
life fought for its place; with long stretches
of thistle and dead grass whose monotony is
broken by an aged thorn-bush with its creep¬
ing vine here and there, formed the Eden in
which the God-Man achieved. “Get thee
hence, Satan:” was said for all time to come.
The lines are drawn clear and distinct. There
was no compromise that possibly the other
might be right if circumstances were different.
The Devil leaves him. The temptations are
thrust wholly aside. These marks are clearly
seen in all his subsequent life. The victorious
champion stands in the very frown of the deso-

How He Came Forth

5i

lation of starved wasted nature. Angels come
and minister to him, while the wild beasts go
quietly to their lairs. This Man teaches us to
go forward in trust, knowing that in due sea¬
son God provides for both spiritual and phy¬
sical needs if we faint not.

Of the victory—What? God sanctions the
laws of subsistence, and that for the achieving
of the higher ends. But he never sanctions
greed. “Man shall not live by bread alone,
but by every word that proceedeth out of the
mouth of God.” In regard to Divine protec¬
tion we are to count on that, but there must
be no uncalled for exposure of one’s life to dan¬
ger in order to make a premature and gross test
of God’s love and care. His great love and ten¬
der care we are to take for granted and move
accordingly about our duties of life in a sa¬
cred trust undisturbed by preying doubts and
fears. Do not be anxious to test His presence
but take that as the basis of your life without
question, “Thou shalt not make trial of the
Lord thy God.” So to lord it over your fel¬
low will never meet God’s approval. It is
not in accord with God’s law and order. He
who would rule best is he who serves best.
Jesus in giving his final verdict to the Tempter
says, “Thou shalt not worship the vain lust

52

The Silent Nazarene

of this world/’ but “thou shalt worship the
Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.”
Is he that so serves his God any other than he
that serves his fellowman? He is our flawless
Champion who near the close of his earthly
life makes clear to his fellows on this wise,
saying, “I am in your midst as he that serves.”
The same said, “My meat is to do the will of
him that sent me,” when referring to his work
of guiding the sinful woman of Sychar into
the ways of life. He forges the one chain of
service—brother to brother in the love of the
Father.

They Followed Him

Was this not so with men from the very
first? He goes from the wilderness of Temp¬
tation into the thronged and busy regions about
the sea of Galilee. What! does he not retire
into the wilderness and emerge from it from
time to time with burning messages? What
manner of conduct is this for a prophet? He
is going to live in the nervous throng of hu¬
manity—have a house in Capernaum by the
sea where the trade of all the lands centre,
and not among the quiet hills of Nazareth.
His dwelling is to be by the beautiful blue
waters of Galilee abounding with fish. But

How He Came Forth

53

even in these fruitful waters the fishermen
have toiled all night and have taken nothing.

Though at times the sea was slow to give
of its abundance of fish, and freakish storms
arose upon the waters, driving the persistent
waves against the fragile fishing crafts, ham¬
mering them as though to forbid any further
pursuit after the teeming life that swarm
its depths, yet this sea was like a great nest
fledging out a sturdy, persistent, persevering,
patient, and conquering life. Here men could
toil all night and take nothing, yet the dawn
would find them with unabating energies at
their tasks, and too these men could forego
the breaking of their fast that they might con¬
tinue to wrestle with the waves and the sea
for the prize they sought. In the heat of the
day the breeze from the lake, met by the upper
breeze from the great sea, refreshed their
feverish brows. So these fishermen were
giants in physical strength and enduring cour¬
age. They knew what price they must pay
for that which they sought. It was by this
sea that the young Teacher of Nazareth
walked. Was it accident that he settled by the
shore of Galilee, and resorted thither to teach
the multitudes?

It is a beautiful morning. The sun has

54

The Silent Nazarene

risen upon the high eastern hills that overlook
the lake. The dews have not yet left the ter¬
raced gardens upon which Hermon smiles.
The Man of Nazareth walks by the sea whose
waters are washing the roots of the palm-tree.
There is a multitude upon the shore. Mer¬
chants from afar with their attendants, fisher¬
men going to and coming from their work
(some coming away empty and others have
taken a “great draught”), people who have
come out of the city and from the region
round about to hear the young Teacher, for all
men seek him, make up the multitude by the
sea of Galilee that morning. A goodly num¬
ber of merchants who are passing up from
Taricheae, where the fish are cured, to visit
the market at Capernaum, on seeing the multi¬
tude are curious to know what it is all about,
turn aside to listen to the young Nazarene.
So a great portion of that multitude is com¬
posed of those who seek those things “after
which the Gentiles seek.” It is difficult to
get a standing place on even the edge of the
shore for those of the multitude are crowding
each other as they were wont to do. The fish¬
ermen’s boats are empty as the fishermen have
gone out to wash their nets. The young Jew
from Nazareth enters one of those boats. Did

How He Came Forth

55

it happen to be so? It was Simon’s. Had
Simon met up with this young Jew before?
Andrew had been with John the Baptist by the
Jordan, when that hardy preacher of right¬
eousness pointed out this young Nazarene as
“The Lamb of God that taketh away the sin
of the world.” Andrew follows this man of
Nazareth as he comes up from the solitary
wilderness of Temptation by the place at the
Jordan where John was baptizing. Andrew
was accompanied by a young man who was
also one of John’s disciples. Jesus turned,
and beheld them following, and saith unto
them, “What seek ye?” And they said unto
him, “Rabbi (which is to say, being inter¬
preted, Teacher), where abidest thou?” He
said unto them, “Come, and ye shall see.”
They accept the generous invitation given.
The first thing Andrew does is to go out after
his own brother Simon. Finding him he says
to him, “We have found the Messiah (which
is, being interpreted, the Christ). Simon has
always been enthusiastic upon the subject of
the coming of the Messiah. How many
hours did they toil and take nothing that
Simon’s countenance would light up with a
lively discussion on the coming Messiah.
There is John preaching it too. The heart of

56

The Silent Nazarene

Andrew burns all the while, for he can not
express himself in glowing verities as Simon
can. However he goes off and joins John.
He is an exceptionally good listener. Now
having found the Messiah he does the big
thing for Simon (more than Simon ever did
for Andrew in all his glowing discourses on
the coming Messiah) ; he brings him to Jesus.
So the new Teacher enters Simon’s boat. (Had
not this young Nazarene observed this sturdy
fisherman many times as he passed along that
way on the shore? Now Simon is washing
his net, for it has gathered a great deal of filth
during the long night of fruitless toil.) The
young Jew asks Simon “to put out a little from
the land.” He sat down and taught the mul¬
titudes out of the boat. A plain fisherman’s
boat was his pulpit, and hearts of plain fisher¬
men were receiving his words. Simon has
left off washing his nets, and is listening
quietly and attentively to the words of wis¬
dom that fall from the lips of the Teacher.
All this has been bubbling up in Simon’s soul,
and yet how strangely the words of the
preacher sound. He seems not to be as ready
as he thought for them. The speaker is paus¬
ing. It is time to begin fishing? but how
strangely Simon acts? He would rather lis-

How He Came Forth

57

ten to these words though he can not under¬
stand just how and what. (For this Teacher
has been speaking so differently from what
they were accustomed to hear from the scribes
of the Pharisees.) But now this Teacher who
has been speaking so earnestly about life, lov¬
ing-kindness and God the Father, says unto
Simon, “Put out into the deep, and let down
your nets for a draught.” A look of surprise
comes over the face of Simon. He is puzzled
for many reasons. He can do nothing other
than comply with the bidding of the Teacher,
though he must in keeping with his nature
offer a slight protest, saying, “Master, we
toiled all night, and took nothing: but at thy
word I will let down the net.” Having done
as they were bidden, they enclose a great mul¬
titude of fishes; and their nets are breaking.
And they beckon to their partners in the other
boat, that they should come and help them.
They fill both boats till they begin to sink.
Simon Peter is overwhelmed. He is not ready
to stand in the presence of one who can work
after this fashion. He has always been rather
too self-confident. He falls down at Jesus’s
knees, saying, “Depart from me; for I am a
sinful man, O Lord.” James and John, the
sons of Zebedee, who have come out of the

58

The Silent Nazarene

other boat to assist in hauling in the breaking
nets with the great multitude of fishes, are
standing nearby with Andrew, being greatly
amazed at these things. But the Teacher is
not through teaching yet. He is giving them
a great object lesson. So Jesus, looking di¬
rectly into the perplexed countenance of
Simon, who is kneeling at his feet, says unto
him, “Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt
catch men.” The other three fishermen knew
that these words as well as this object lesson
were meant for them likewise. So bringing
their boats to land they left all, and followed
him.

The little company is headed for the higher
ground of Galilee. They pass out of the great
road into Galilee by Capernaum. Climbing
the higher ground, the olives and figs become
more and more numerous, while the palm-
trees with their shade are left far behind by
the blue sea, and the little company is moving
in a more bracing and cooler atmosphere.
They are going toward Cana. A wedding is
on hand, and Jesus has an invitation. He will
take his newly found friends with him. As
these four fishermen walk along side of the
carpenter from Nazareth, but whom they
know only as Master, they are deeply en-

How He Came Forth

59

grossed in what he is saying. As they go they
meet up with Philip, who is from Bethsaida,
of the city of Andrew and Peter. These old
friends at once fall into a lively conversation.
They tell Philip they have found the Messiah
relating the whole story of the draught of
fishes, and insist that he too join them. Though
Jesus is busy as the little company is about
to set forth upon their journey again, he calls
to Philip, saying, “Follow me.” So Philip
becomes one of the Company over the hills of
Galilee.

Philip is thinking of his friend Nathanael,
for they are bound by the closest ties of friend¬
ship. He would like to have Nathanael in
that company too. So as they approach Cana
Philip withdraws from the company, which
has halted for a rest, and goes forth to seek his
friend. He finds him in deep meditation
resting beneath a fig-tree. He relates the
story of the multitude of fishes as told him by
Andrew and Peter. Nathanael is a good lis¬
tener, but he does not believe all he hears, and
he too is acquainted with the enthusiastic
Simon Peter. So he must make a good allow¬
ance for the story of the fishes as told by Simon
to his friend Philip. But Philip urges him to
join that company, saying, “We have found

6 o

The Silent Nazar ene

him, of whom Moses in the law, and the
prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of
Joseph.” The name of Nazareth adds
nothing to the force of Philip’s invitation. It
rather detracts, throwing the whole matter in
a rather unfavorable light. Even Nathanael
is a little agitated when Philip intimates that
the Messiah has come out of Nazareth. He,
Nathanael, knows all about Nazareth, having
lived all his life in Cana. To a resident of
Cana the name Nazareth does not sound good.
Out of his piqued pride he answers Philip,
saying, “Can any good thing come out of Naz¬
areth?” Is Philip’s ardor chilled at this
thrust? He looks into the face of Nathanael,
which wears a more satisfied look after giving
vent to his feelings, and says calmly,“Come and
see.” This is too much for Nathanael.
Philip has him. As they go from the shade
of the fig-tree the silence is unbroken. They
are now passing up over the hill and coming
in sight of the little party that is resting. The
young leader, who is looking that way, sees
Nathanael coming with Philip, remarks to the
little group, saying, “Behold, an Israelite in
whom there is no guile.” Was Philip deep
down in his soul wishing the Teacher had not
said this? (For they were come within hear-

How He Came Forth 61

i

ing distance.) Philip is keenly aware that
Nathanael is averse to flattery. It is even so—
Nathanael must question the compliment from
this stranger? Or, is he surprised at the
frankness with which the Nazarene spoke it?
However this may be, he says unto him,
“Whence knowest thou me?” Has he thrown
the stranger into confusion so that he is at a
loss to answer? There is no hesitancy. The
Teacher is ready with the reply, saying, “Be¬
fore Philip called thee, when thou wast under
the fig-tree, I saw thee.” (This is not a speech
of one seeking to work himself into the good
graces of another. He has committed himself
too far for that.) With a glance into that
frank face Nathanael confesses reverently,
saying, “Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou
art King of Israel.” The skeptic, now
changed to believer, lives in the supreme faith
of his Master. Jesus anounces to him the un¬
limited possibilities of the faith he is entering,
saying, “Because I said unto thee, I saw thee
underneath the fig tree, believest thou? thou
shalt see greater things than these.” Nathan¬
ael does not need any formal invitation. He
simply falls in line, and loses himself in the
spirit of the Master.

The little company files out of the hills into

6 2

The Silent Nazarene

the deep valley which forms the shoreline
round the great blue lake of Gennesaret. They
have been bathed in the refreshing breeze
of the hills of Galilee and are now come into
the tropical heat of the valley of the lake re¬
gion. Capernaum is on the northwest corner
of the lake. Here the great road leading from
East to West is daily thronged with mer¬
chants—a fit place also for publicans to sit at
the receipt of custom. This Man of Naz¬
areth passes up and down that road with his
little group of followers. He goes in and out
from his home in Capernaum. How often at
the close of day he saw the despised publicans
in his place ready to collect toll from those
who passed by. “How much?” and it was
always enough that the giver gave it grudg¬
ingly. How the fishermen dislike the publi¬
can, even after toiling all night in fruitless
labor, on entering the city to their homes they
must be annoyed by these publicans. Then,
too, these toll gatherers were all too numer¬
ous. Could not a Jew get at a better occupa¬
tion? These publicans were despised by fish¬
ermen and merchants—sellers and traders of
every rank and description. The Jews called
them dogs of sinners and the Gentiles regard
them as troublesome meddlers. But here is a

How He Came Forth

63

Jew who has recently come to reside at Caper¬
naum who has no such aversion for this class
even. He has passed and repassed a receipt
of custom of a rather distinguished looking
publican. He always has a kind word for the
toll-gatherer too. The publican in like man¬
ner is attracted to him. One day as he passed
by and saw this man, Levi, the son of Alphaeus,
sitting at the place of toll, he says unto him,
“Follow me.” And he forsook all, and rose
up and followed him. Did the fishermen do
more when they had a like invitation from
this young Teacher? This Man has a strange
way of measuring hearts.

More publicans would like to have gotten
into that little company whose leader mani¬
fested such an interest in them. “Many fol¬
lowed him.” He comes to his house. Does
he close the door on them? He throws it open
wide and invites them all in to eat meat with
him. This is a strange thing for a teacher, or
prophet to do. He will ruin his good name.
The thing is swiftly told the scribes and Phari¬
sees, who have not seen this disgraceful thing
with their very eyes. Good Abraham is look¬
ing on with such dire disgust. He had about
made up his mind to join this Teacher himself.
But this settles the question forever so far as

6 4

The Silent Nazarene

he is concerned. He has seen sufficient to con¬
vince himself in regard to the matter. With
his holy conscience smitten he goes and pub¬
lishes the matter as widely as possible. He
does so toawith a sigh. How sorry he is that
it is so, and he is obliged to tell it—but never¬
theless it is the awful fact. It must be reck¬
oned with. He is eager to enlighten the dis¬
ciples as to the seriousness of this conduct of
their Master, saying, “How is it that he eateth
and drinketh with publicans and sinners?”
The disciples tell the Master, which is the
thing the Pharisee wished them to do. The
Master is ready with his answer. He will
take the Pharisee at his suggestion that these
publicans are the chief of sinners. But it is
just for such as these he has come. So he an¬
swers their question which was designed to
call him to account for his conduct, saying,
“They that are whole have no need of a physi¬
cian, but they that are sick: I came not to call
the righteous, but sinners”

That ends the matter upon that question so
far as the disciples are concerned. However,
it is but the beginning^ of the festering hurt in
the heart of the jealous, envious Pharisee, who
stumbles on in his blind piety.

How He Came Forth

65

They Eyed Him

John the Baptist is leading the austere, as¬
cetic life, teaching his disciples this manner of
living. He is instilling into his followers the
necessity of fasting often. The fasts also were
scrupulously observed by the Pharisees. When
John at the Jordan pointed out this man of
Nazareth as “The Lamb of God, that taketh
away the sin of the world!” the disciples of
the preacher of righteousness set their eye on
him. They hear him say to their master
when he requests baptism that it must be done
to fulfill all righteousness. Their master has
pointed him out as the one greater than the
Baptist himself. Therefore they are vigi¬
lantly observing his conduct especially in re¬
gard to the austere, ascetic life. They are
careful to fast oft, and likewise are the disci¬
ples of the Pharisees very scrupulous in this
matter of fasting, but the disciples of Jesus not
only ignore the fast but feast with publicans
and sinners. This, therefore, not only be¬
comes a source of annoyance but a matter of
grave concern. So the disciples of John and
those of the Pharisees get together, and send a
delegation to the Teacher. These come to
Jesus and say unto him, “The disciples of

66

The Silent Nazarene

John fast often, and make supplications; like¬
wise also the disciples of the Pharisees; but
thine eat and drink.”

Jesus is in no wise disturbed by this advice
put in form of a request for information, even
though John’s disciples were among those con¬
cerned who so busied themselves, but answers
with deliberation not merely their question
about which they were so much exercised, but
firmly tells them that the old order is at an
end and that the new order has already come
in—inferring that both the disciples of John
and of the Pharisees are of the old while his
disciples are children of the new, saying, “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 will
be taken away from them, then will they fast
in those days.” It were as though he cast his
eye over the great future which his vision
penetrated through and through, saying, “Let
these sons of the bridechamber rejoice while
the bridegroom is with them, but in the very
nature of things the time will speedily come
when they will be called upon to deny them¬
selves for sake of the bridegroom and that
for which he stands. The things for which I
stand will bring pressure from both sides—

How He Came Forth

67

the over-scrupulous and religious will despise
me and the things I teach, while on the other
hand the world will have no part in me for I
am not of the world. A new order comes in
with me. I make no attempt to graft it upon
the old order. Neither the over-charged
conscience of the Pharisees, nor yet the ever
too light conscience of the world, can find
place in this new order.” No man rendeth
a piece from a new garment and putteth it
upon an old garment; else he will rend the
new, and also the piece from the new will not
agree with the old. And no man putteth new
wine into old wine-skins; else the new wine
will burst the skins, and itself will be spilled,
and the skins will perish. But new wine must
be put into fresh wine-skins.” The new cloth
to the old garment will make the rent worse,
the new piece will be wasted, and so new wine
in old wine-skins will burst the skins and the
wine will spill. The things that I teach are al¬
together reasonable. They do not violate the
sense of order at all. They do not go about
to destroy the things of the past, neither do
they attempt to compromise with them. In
my order men fast not out of a sense of
wrought up piety, for it was no matter to them
whether they are or are not seen of men, but

68

The Silent Nazarene

they fast because of their loyalty to me, and
the truth of which I bear witness, for it must
meet up with opposition from every side. My
disciples must deny themselves that the truth
might live, and must strive always to keep in
the path of loving service even as they see me
do. I have come to do the will of my Father,
and I must drink from whatever cup I encoun¬
ter in my course; and so must my disciples as
they follow me in joy and pain, in feasting and
fasting, in triumphs and persecutions.”

These are strange words for the disciples of
John to hear. They return to their master and
he thinks upon these things greatly perplexed.
He goes forward despite the baffling diffi¬
culties that cross his mind. Doubts begin to
shade into his path. Herod has outraged
every sense of right in taking his own brother
Philip’s wife to himself to wife. The great
preacher of righteousness severely rebukes that
ruler for this sinful act. This enrages Herod-
ias for whose sake Herod lays hold on John,
and bound him, and put him in prison. There
are increasing strange reports coming to John
in prison about the conduct of the Teacher
upon whom he had set his hopes. These
things cut him to the heart. Indeed, has he
been mistaken all along? Do they not sound

How He Came Forth

6 9

strange to this austere preacher as being sur¬
charged with the things of the world? Can
doubt disturb the mind of that bold preacher
even though incarcerated in a dungeon cell?
Such could not be said of the children of the
new order after the bridegroom had been taken
away from them, though they suffered in fast¬
ings, persecutions, and prison often. (But
John is of the old order, and as he himself de¬
clared his kind must decrease while the other
must increase.) At any rate he is troubled
for he sends two of his disciples to interview
this one whom he had pointed out by the Jor¬
dan as being the hope of the world. They
have a direct charge from the Baptist to ask
Jesus the question that is directly pressing on
his mind, namely, “Art thou he that cometh,
or look we for another?”

When these men from John arrive they can
not gain audience with him at once, but must
stand by and look on for awhile, for Jesus is
busy. He is curing many of divers diseases,
plagues, and evil spirits; opening the eyes of
the blind, loosening the tongues of the dumb
so that they speak plainly, patiently heeding
the petitions of the poor and worsted—pour¬
ing out loving words of mercy and kindness,
filling crushed hearts with hope and consola-

70

The Silent Nazarene

tion. All the while these men from John were
looking upon these things. They have hardly
the heart to ask this Leader and Teacher the
question for which they are sent. But upon
reflection they recalled how they had seen this
very man eating with publicans and sinners,
and how could they return to their leader shut
up in prison with an acknowledgment that
they had failed to obey his words. With
what misgivings they begin to edge their way
through that ever growing and crushing
crowd to ask the busy Teacher their question
which was wrapt about in the clouds of doubt?
How they wish they had never been commis¬
sioned to do such an act. But now it is done,
for one of them has put the question to the
Master, who, though busily engaged, has fixed'
his eye upon these two men who were making
their way so persistently through that crowd
and jam. Jesus does not hesitate at such a
question even though it comes directly from
John but answers, saying, “Go and tell John
the things which ye hear and see: the blind
receive their sight, and the lame walk, the
lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the
dead are raised up, and the poor have good
tidings preached to them. And blessed is he,
whosoever shall find no occasion of stumbling

How He Came Forth

7i

in me.”

The Prayer

The moments of silence in the life of Christ
are moments in which reserve forces face the
world in irresistible energy. They are the
golden nuggets for him who seeks their worth.
They are always beneath the surface. They
disclose their power to the humble searcher
w T ho counts no pain, who sees no obstruction;
but in a simple, plain spirit seeks the treasures
that bring him life. Be careful, lest in nois¬
ing it about you let this secret slip. Let it tell
in a consistent way lest you drift from the
source and lose yourself in the noise, confu¬
sion, and perplexity of the floodtide. In
silence Christ prays. In silence you must
pray and not proclaim it upon the housetop
lest you lose it in some base motive. Influ¬
ence must go forth as the rays of the sun and
not as the howling winter blast. In the
former life thrives and grows; in the latter
life fades, withers and dies. In the silence
of Jesus Christ man grows; in the ostentation
of the Pharisee he dies.

Ere the silent dawn creeps over the rugged
hills; ere the soft light touches the busy
streams; while the blackness of the darkness

72

The Silent Nazarene

hovers over the peaceful sleepers: Jesus steals
from the midst of his slumbering disciples.
He hurries over the dark rock-ribbed hills,
crosses the sluggish streams, climbs the moun¬
tain to his favored nook. There he prays.
Not an echo to disturb him except now and
then the yelp of a hungry jackal or the scream
of the lone hyena in search of food.

Jesus too is in search of meat. Last evening’s
sun went down upon the scene of a busy day.
The restless multitudes thronged the Master
from early morn to late at eve. Did they
weary him? Did he seek this mountain fastness
as a cover to rest his exhausted frame? Why
not enjoy the sweet slumber with his disciples?
Why plod his weary steps to this mountain
spot and continue the whole night in prayer?
Sleep indeed rests the weary body. But all
day there has been a clamor rising above the
tumult of voices. It is like the lashing of the
waves in the midst of many waters. Seem¬
ingly it is drowning all else in its confusion.
The Master knows what it is. It is the crav¬
ing appetite for the miraculous—love of intox¬
ication in thoughts in that which is past under¬
standing. A clamor for the shell that holds
the kernel, and not a longing for the life that
germinates within the grain. He was not to

How He Came Forth

73

strive to satisfy this perverted appetite of man
by showing some sign from heaven, though
this would win for him the popular, so the
clamor said. He was to feed the inner life
and let the miraculous incidently flow out
of it. His meat was to do the will of the
Father, not to stop the clamoring of the multi¬
tude with some paralyzing sign from heaven.
He had much to talk with the Father about.
These prayers are unrecorded. He told no
man about them. But from his life the world
has gleaned their import.

The disciples caught a glimpse that early
morning. They awake and find the Master
absent. The people with their sick are al¬
ready beginning to ask for him. The dark¬
ness has not yet withdrawn its sable shades.
The disciples turn their faces toward the
mountain, seeking him. As they approach
they get a glimpse of a form kneeling with
face turned toward heaven as the receding
darkness unveils and the mellow dawn falls
over and about that figure, gradually bringing
the calm heaven-endowed countenance to the
light of the services of another day of blessing.
The disciples tell him, saying, “All men are
seeking thee.” He is not seeking out some
clever, cunning device by which he might be-

74

The Silent Nazarene

witch the multitudes. He did the works of
God and the multitudes sought his face. They
were astonished beyond measure at his teach¬
ing, for he taught them not as the scribes, but
as one having authority. The multitudes
knew nothing of those whole nights in prayer.
The darkness hid him. It were as though
he prayed not at all so far as the spectacular
effect of that act was concerned. Any intru¬
sion of that kind would have robbed the hum¬
ble man of Nazareth of the sweetness and
power he so greatly enjoyed. There are
things too sacred for the eyes of the multitudes
and prayer is one of them.

The disciples got but a glimpse that early
morn. But they did not yet understand why
all men were seeking him. Could they have
gone below the surface and have seen the real
significance of that hour? What? Christ in
connection with the secret of power. This is
why all men are seeking him in spite of them¬
selves. He is at the source of power. All
things are in his hands. Seeming impossibili¬
ties roll away like a mountain of clouds, leav¬
ing a clear sky and a brilliant sunlight. They
came to him from every quarter. How could
it be otherwise? They must seek him for his
authority though they clamor for a sign. Now

How He Came Forth

75

these very disciples wanted their Master to
win the popular favor and thought it strange
that he should not take advantage of oppor¬
tunities for winning the people when they
came to him. He moves before them misun¬
derstood. Even though the disciples got this
glimpse of him they could not understand the
perplexing situation. Who would not have
fairly leaped at such opportunities as came to
him? Yet he disregards them all, and leaves
opportunity after opportunity slip from him,
even he is actually incurring the hatred and
the malice of the Pharisee. This is of all
ways the strangest to walk to the throne. What
king has ever acquired power after this fash¬
ion? Yet the people throng him. Why?

The white Christ was in that mountain lone¬
liness, getting at men’s most urgent needs. He
was talking with the Father about them that
he might teach men to be kings and great ones
too. He was to walk the path before them
and they were to follow. Men need these
silent hours with God as well as the busy
hours with men. This is the whole truth that
the white Christ is making emphatic among
men. Men must needs tarry long with God
if they would not lose the proper proportion
of things. They must be busied with men lest

76

The Silent Nazarene

they lose their rewards, as opportunities are
fleeting. He sought rest and peace in the
Father’s counsels. Here was his source and
man was his opportunity. He could not af¬
ford to permit either to displace the other.
This man of men lived in the breathing pres¬
ence of the Father, and he saw the whole world
in need of his counsels too. This praying,
serving man proved by living that His coun¬
sels could be sought by turning the hearts in
prayer and by setting the face towards the
great Helper. That this was needful Christ
made plain, taking without a question what his
great apostle said, “He is not far from each
one of us: for in him we live and move, and
have our being.” This man of men could
run counter to all the ways of men and yet
mark out the way of true success.

He must see his disciples looking into his
face with a look of disappointment. Yet he
keeps his course. It takes many days for the
disciples to get even a hint of the vision of
the praying, living Christ. When the com¬
mon people are falling away, and many of his
disciples are turning back from following him,
do the chosen few find only one way to answer
his question—“Will ye also go away?” This
answer is given by their spokesman, Simon

How He Came Forth

11

Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast
the words of eternal life.” This is the esti¬
mate that these men are placing upon their
teacher and Master. Here is a flashlight out
of the hearts of his disciples that reveal what
the Christ was to them and what in turn his
prayers signify. All that he said, and all that
he did, and all that went out in his silent influ¬
ence, were grandly summed up in what he was.
This man’s prayers were as unselfish as his
life. Never man prayed like this man; never
man spake like this man; never man wrought
as this man—it was all in a life of service for
others.

i

II

HOW HE GAVE AUTHORITY TO THE
NEW TEACHING

{

\

THE NEW TEACHING

I N the midst of action and life we get a
glimpse of the new teaching of Jesus. It
all harmoniously blends in him. His action,
his teaching, his life—all speak one great lan¬
guage of power. It is all conceived, born and
imparted in a serene atmosphere of power.
Like the soft light of dawn it silently com¬
prehends and unveils each secluded nook in
an unaffected way; and like the mighty and
fierce tempest it sweeps all clean, or leaves the
burden of the dead against the rocky ledge
where life is choked and quenched and in the
silence of the steady moving years this dead
must mix with the elements, feed the life it
sought to quench. Is not this God’s hand?
That which threatens real defeat only dares
to halt; yes, to place a splendid pause till it
can get below the fibrous roots that freshen
the tender blade that yellowed beneath its bur¬
den. Powers that make for death are trans¬
ferred into powers that make for life. The
mighty slaves of sin have died and are resur-

81

82

The Silent Nazarene

rected as powerful and efficient forces for
righteousness. They die in the oldness of
death and rise in the newness of life. These
very passions that once did surge and plunge
the soul into almost hopeless ruin are staid
before the life of Christ—his righteousness
and justice sweep them against the dark peaks
of malign jealousy, prejudice, and even vicious
lust. They heap upon each other till tension
gives, then they sink—rather face about as
forces in the hand of God for righteousness.
They are transformed by the working of the
Divine Power into the regenerating forces of
the world. By the power of Jesus Christ men
become as good as they were bad. Out of evil
good has come forth. This is true in more
ways than one. The leaven of Christ destroys
not the powerful but mellows down, modifies,
changes the functions, yes, converts them into
powers for good. But upon those that are
innocent and unstained He is like the life-
giving sunlight, dispelling all forms of death
that oppose. Jesus gave authority to His new
teaching by ingraining and transforming truth
into and through life. In his being truth and
life are one and the same. And so he taught
men with authority.

The mustard seed a man took and cast in

How He Gave Authority to New Teaching 83

his garden. That man heard no sound. Did
he see? He saw the tiny blade lift its puny
tip above the surface of the ground. Some¬
how this tiny birth has burst its prison cell
without the hint of a groan or sigh. It found
life when bars closed about it. Silently it did
creep and rise—each to draw a larger current
of life from things that seemed to chain it
down till it found its prison den one vast store¬
house to feed life’s growing and increasing
energies. Then too it lifts its head into an¬
other world with more food as it higher grows
and branches spread embracing more of life’s
current—the atmosphere and the prison house
are blending in sustaining the product of
earth and sky. There is abundance to meet
the needs at every stage of enlarging life. Lo,
now the birds have lodged mid the branches
of this goodly herb. “So the kingdom,” says
Christ, “must grow against great odds. The
seeds sown may seem very insignificant in
midst of such opposition. But my life shall
lay hold upon those opposing forces and con¬
vert them into mighty energies for the King¬
dom. I shall ingrain and transform truth into
and through life. I shall bring life out of
death. In the world, ye shall have great
tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have over-

84 The Silent Nazarene

come the world.”

So the life of the Kingdom is begotten mid
the prison-cells of man’s selfish greed but
surely it must burst the crust beneath which it
is born and feed upon the heart’s affection
struggling there and climb into the life of
God/ A slow climb but it shall spread and
embrace all the earth. Is it strange that fev¬
erish souls should seek a lodging place mid the
branches of such a life? Life’s contagion is
set up. Life of man begets life within the life
of God and what power can stop this irresisti¬
ble growth?

Yes, the leaven is hid in three measures of
meal. It grows to leaven the whole lump. It
can not stop with the branches of the mustard-
tree, but it must silently grow as long as hu¬
man hearts are yet untouched and as long as
there is any part of the heart of the individual
unleavened. It is truth—life-giving truth,
and must leaven where it goes. But remember
one thing—it must be “hid” in the meal or
the leaven will not take hold of the particles,
lose itself, and grow in and through them till
the whole lump is leavened. Men seem im¬
patient and dissatisfied with this hidden way.
Can you marvel that they fail who seek an¬
other way? There is no other way than the

How He Gave Authority to New Teaching 85

life-source of truth, and that life-source is
God. The Life of God must be hidden in the
life of the heart of man and of men if the
teaching is to be NEW breathing authority
everywhere. So did the Nazarene give au¬
thority to all that he said. This caused those
who beheld his wonderful conduct to be
amazed, insomuch that they questioned among
themselves, saying, “What is this? a new
teaching! with authority he commandeth even
the unclean spirits, and they obey him.”

Legion

How the wild lunatic raves! No man can
bind him. In his mad fury he snaps the
chains asunder and breaks the fetters in
pieces. Naked he raves in the tombs and
roves the mountains. And always day and
night these solitary, desolate places resound
with unearthly, weird, demoniacal screams as
he is cutting himself with stones. No man
had strength to tame him. When Jesus
comes out of the boat he is met by this fierce
man out of the tombs. The wild stare is in his
eyes as he bursts forth from the midst of the
tombs. But seeing Jesus from afar, he runs
and worships him, crying out with a loud

86

The Silent Nazarene

voice, saying, “What have I to do with thee,
Jesus, thou Son of the Most High God? I
adjure thee by God, torment me not.” What
strange thing is this? This one whom no man
could tame running to Jesus and worshipping
him? Ah, the Master has said, “Come forth,
thou unclean spirit, out of the man.” The
real fact was there—sin, its dread, its tor¬
ment. To obey the demons know they must.
They clamor as though with noise they would
evade the issue. The Master asks him, “What
is your name?” And he saith unto him, “My
name is Legion; for we are many.”

Even devils are reduced to extremity by the
authority of the words of his mouth. They
know they must go out of the man. They beg
that their power be not destroyed altogether.
So they make the poor fellow plead in behalf
of these familiar spirits with whom he had
dwelt for such a length of time that the
Teacher would not send them away out of the
country. But the devils must go and there is
a great herd of swine feeding on the mountain.
And there were they who kept the herd. So
the devils would seize the opportunity. So
they besought him, saying, “Send us into the
swine that we may enter into them.” He gave
them leave. “And the unclean spirits came

How He Gave Authority to New Teaching 87

out, and entered into the swine: and the
herd rushed down the steep into the sea,
in number, about two thousand; and they
were drowned in the sea.”

They that fed the swine fled and told it in
the city and the country. The madness and
frenzy of this wild, raging maniac was the
talk throughout the Decapolis and the regions
round about. As the citizens came forth in
multitudes they that kept the herd and saw
it declared unto them how it befell the man
that was possessed with demons, and concern¬
ing the swine. They are amazed beyond
measure as they look upon him who aforetime
raged in unabating madness clothed, and in
his right mind sitting at the feet of Jesus.
They were afraid, and began to beseech him
to depart out of their borders.

But what of him who had been possessed
with demons? The Master is complying with
their requests. He is entering into the boat.
But there is he that had been possessed with
demons beseeching him that he might be with
him. What a laudable desire? Surely the
Nazarene is craving companionship of those
who love him. But listen! This is strange
from the lips of Jesus. “Go to thy house—”
But then we will hear him through. “Go to

88

The Silent Nazarene

thy house unto thy friends, and tell them how
great things the Lord hath done for thee, and
how he had mercy on thee.” What could
give authority to the words of the mouth of
this man but that change that had come into
his life? He went his way, and began to pub¬
lish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had
done for him, and all men marveled. Truth
and life here had no break but were one and
the same and the new teaching had authority
so that all men marveled.

Compassion on the Multitude

Jesus goes apart with his disciples. He
seeks a solitary place. He seeks rest
and quiet. Can even a desert place insure
him the needed rest? See the people
running from every quarter. Yes, they saw
the Master and his disciples take boat to cross
the lake, “and they ran together there on foot
from all the cities, and outwent them.” Be¬
hold a multitude in a desert place, but the
great Christ is there, and where he is wells
of refreshment break forth and streams
abound, and the thirsty lands bring forth their
increase a hundredfold. The multitudes are
fed.

How He Gave Authority to New Teaching 89

The multitudes to Christ have fled —
The weary, thirsty, hungry, tried;

The multitudes by Christ are fed,

No lone deserted soul has died.

“And he came forth and saw a great multi¬
tude, and he had compassion on them, because
they were as sheep not having a shepherd: and
he began to teach them many things.” Men
running to and fro—they knew not why. They
sought but dread confusion fell about them.
They were lost not only to each other—but
each was lost to himself. Christ with mind
clear and masterful saw the conflicting, surg¬
ing passions, the emptiness of life and the
craving of souls in the heart of the multitudes,
and “he had compassion on them.” Having
thrown open the doors of sympathy he entered
the lives and saw their lack—their crying
needs, “and taught them many things.” As
he taught them he fed them upon the bread
of his life and their soul hunger was satisfied.
Should it be counted strange that he should
say, “The words that I have spoken unto you
are spirit, and are life?” Should we not ex¬
pect to hear something like this from a fol¬
lower of his, “Thou hast the words of eternal
life?”

9°

The Silent Nazarene

He saw the languid and famishing—souls
that were hungry out of burning needs, even
those on the brink of despair out of ravishing
sighing—sighing for relief and help which
none could bring, not even within the power
of most intimate friends and companions to
succor. Even in desert places they sought
him for needed relief. Those writhing in
pain and disappointment lay hold upon his
great heart. Those baffled, worsted, de¬
feated catch his penetrating eye. Those sore
distressed in sickness and bereavement draw
near to the great physician whose sympathy
leaps forth to rescue them from despair in that
last hard struggle of the cleaving hope and
the despondent heart. The hopeless and the
hardened touched by the soft breezes of quick¬
ening grace breathe again. For them the
great compassion of Christ is an open foun¬
tain. At last all can find a place in one great
heart. Sympathy flows forth as the placid
streams with healing in the waters thereof.
These healing streams of sympathy are life
unto the multitude.

The heart depressed beneath the burden of
sin’s oppressive weight finds Christ to lift the
burden. Lo, lift up your eyes and look upon
the desert place, for Christ is there. Then

How He Gave Authority to New Teaching 91

you can see the meaning of the multitudes that
flock those desert sands. Jesus looks upon the
multitudes—sees the vieing of flaming pas¬
sions, lashing and being lashed. But what of
the hearts in which these raging passions are
madly surging? Will not the frail bark be
wrecked in the storms that rise out of the
whirlpool of the deep? Whence are these
raging forces? Are they not from out the
mighty deep of life that buoys up the frail
bark they are rending asunder? The eye of
Christ sees, the mind of Christ knows, and the
heart of Christ pleads. He sees passions mak¬
ing havoc of men, and tells them he is there to
help them out of their dismay. It is as though
his life silently but emphatically speaks, say¬
ing, “I see your dismay and anxiety. You are
like sheep without a shepherd. You run
through and through each other. You know
not where or why. I am here not only that
the shadow of apprehension, dismay and fear
may withdraw from you, but to remove the
cause—to show you the way and help you out
of sin. T am the good shepherd: the good
shepherd layeth down his life for the sheep.
I am come that ye may have life, and may
have it abundantly. As the Father has life
in himself, so has he given the Son to have

92

The Silent Nazarene

life in himself.’ As the Father serves so
doth the Son serve, as the Father helps so doth
the Son deliver, as the Father saves so doth
the Son redeem. ‘For the Father loveth the
Son, and showeth him all things that he him¬
self doeth.’ ”

Then do we ask why this multitude about
him in a desert place? Christ walks the
earth with men and knows what they must
have. He meets their needs and helps them
out of sin. He breaks the bread of life and
feeds the multitudes. Can any question the
authority of the new teaching of this Teacher
of Nazareth?

Ill

HOW HE FOUND FAITH IN THE

EARTH

/

. !

V

WHY MIRACLE?

He who can clothe the leafless plant
In leafy foliage green,

Can clothe my soul, don't say—He can't,
Though all is yet unseen .

His smile I see, his hand I grasp,

And walk with Christ to see —

Where God's hand works the first, the last,
And fills eternity.

I T seems to be popular and fashionable, as
well as scholarly, to slur over and omit al¬
together what is called the miraculous.
Nevertheless it is like our blood coursing
through all the arteries and veins of our lives.
Science tells us the blood carries the digested
food-particles to replace the worn-out tissues.
There the food particle is tissue. How? It
wears out, and is thrown off; yes, and is re¬
placed with digested food from blood
corpuscle again. Are they the same that
placed the tissue here before? It works.

95

9 6

The Silent Nazarene

That’s true. We know that. But the cause?
The how? If we being earthly cannot dis¬
cern these things that are earthly, how are
we going to explain those things that are
heavenly? The earthly and the heavenly are
not the same; neither is the flesh and the
spirit the same. The analogy that holds good
in one does not necessarily hold good in the
other. We know something about material
things, and we know something about spirit¬
ual things. We can hardly say we are better
acquainted with things spiritual than with
things material. To be frank we must con¬
fess greater ignorance in regard to things
spiritual out of the very nature of the case.
If we could stand where God stands and be
clothed in his powers we could understand
both equally well. But then where would
mortal man come in? We at once hold the
key to create. All would be creators. If
there would be any flesh and blood to analyze
you could tell exactly the how. Then all
miracle would be natural as we understand
and use the word now. It would all be
within our comprehension.

But now since we do not know much about
possibilities it may be well and wise always to
leave a large place open for the unknown pos-

How He Found Faith in the Earth 97

sibilities which would be perfectly natural if
we were behind the scene where we could
analyze.

Now Christ moved in this unknown and un¬
explored world of possibilities. And he made
no great bluster about it either. What he did
do is this—he sought to help men to find them¬
selves. He found men not living anywhere up
to their privileges spiritually and morally, and
as a consequence of this failure and neglect
they were forfeiting a large part of the possi¬
bilities the Creator had designed for them.
The Master well said of the fig tree that with¬
ered at his command: “Have faith in God.
Verily I say unto you, whosoever shall say
unto this mountain, Be thou taken up and
cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his
heart, but shall believe that what he saith
cometh to pass; he shall have it.” This he
said because he was living where he could
verify it.

Of course the first and last product of faith
is moral and spiritual excellence. Apart from
this nothing can be brought to pass. So Jesus
himself is the miracle with which we have
constantly to do. What he was makes his
miracles natural. “Apart from me ye can
do nothing.” A supreme faith always accom-

9 8

The Silent Nazarene

panies what he says and does. Where else
has faith shown such a wonderful miracle
among mortals? “He hath done all things
well.” “Never man spake like this man.”
“What manner of man is this?” Never man
was like this man; “insomuch that Pilate mar¬
velled.”

The Paralytic

Let the deep darkness of the night guard
the praying Christ, and let the rosy blushes
of the dawn conceal themselves back of the
black curtain before the threshold of the break
of day while the Master sifts the pressing
human cry. Let no irreverent tongue break in
upon those solemn thoughts. The Son of God
is counseling with the Father. What beastly
forms are endeavoring to spring upon him—
they call themselves human needs. But Christ
sees the creeping tiger and the crouching lion
—knows the tiger ere he leaps upon and the
lion ere he crushes the frame and bids them
desist their madness and know him as the rul¬
ing Lord. Greed must not assume the form
of need and ask the Lord to lend it his sup¬
port; it must divest itself of its fair form and
stand out as loathsome greed. Neither can
the flighty thoughts of men entangled in the

How He Found Faith in the Earth 99

meshes of the cravings for the marvelous en¬
slave the mind of this quiet man. He is mas¬
ter and holds dominion free; proves himself
Lord at every turn.

As the breaking light climbs the steps of
the eastern sky the Christ is ready for every
crying need—ready to unclothe it of its dis¬
torted form and show how God will meet
the humblest need if truly need it be.

Day after day Capernaum has witnessed
stirring scenes. The busy Teacher is making
his home there. He has now gone through
that press and throng into the house. A stream
of human forms move along the street—each
impatient at the one who moves before. They
clamor to get to his side. The bolder and
stronger are fighting the timid and weaker
aside. Now they crush in at the door. They
discern not the image of the beast with which
the conquering Christ has fought and thrust
aside the night just passed. Their thirst
is insatiable to see some strange thing—some
wonder-awing thing to blur their senses. Who
can have the privilege of packing the door¬
way? They must let no opportunity slip in
their curiosity seeking. Ah, that sea of up¬
turned faces that cannot get near—each cran¬
ing the neck as though they hoped to see him

IOO

The Silent Nazarene

in spite of the walls of the house. How few
will see though the rush is mad! How few
of the few will see the glory there!

On the edge of that surging crowd four men
are carrying a pallet upon which a helpless
man is lying. Will the crowd be generous
enough to divide so as to permit these men
with their sick to pass to the door? Is there
not one generous enough to push aside, saying,
Give these men room to pass with their sick?
It seems that one has dared to do this thing,
but how that big fellow bolts into the vacant
place! Men are too eager to see to yield a
place to the suffering need that is pressing.
These men can’t get even near the door. So
they divert their course rather than jam into
that crushing, trampling humanity. They go
to the stairway at the side of the house and
carry their sick to the roof. Tearing up the
roof, they let down the bed whereon the sick
of the palsy lay. And Jesus, seeing their faith,
saith unto the sick of the palsy, “Son, thy sins
are forgiven.” This is not what those faith¬
ful men expected either. But they are silent
in their disappointment. But what of the
crowd? “Son, they sins are forgiven thee”—
the murmur falls like some thick sound upon
hidden waters. The scribes are outdone and

How He Found Faith in the Earth ioi

overcome in their consternation. They breathe
great heavy sighs from their heaving chests.
Jesus knew their thoughts. He knew what
they were looking for. They had gone far
afield. He casts his piercing eye upon them
and says, “Why reason these things in your
hearts? Which is easier to say to the sick of
the palsy, Thy sins are forgiven; or to say,
Arise, and take up thy bed, and walk? But
that ye may know that the Son of man hath
authority on earth to forgive sins (he saith
to the sick of the palsy) I say unto thee,
Arise, take up they bed, and go unto thy
house.”

Is there a shuffling of feet as those deep¬
breathing Pharisees have crowded too near
the Master in the press, and that man who
had been chained about with the palsy arose
and stood upon his feet and took up his bed
to go to his home? There is no need to ask
the thronging crowd to make a way for this
healed man to pass. They do that instinc¬
tively. Or, are they dazed by what they have
seen? Or, is their lust satisfied? Nothing
can be heard for the time being on every
side save expressions like these: “We never
saw it on this fashion”; and “We have seen
strange things to-day.”

102

The Silent Nazarene

There Jesus stood—a calm master of him¬
self. He knew what was in man, and how dif¬
ficult it was to displace gross misconception
with truth. He scans the centuries while they
in their bewildering amazement are saying,
“We never saw it on this fashion,” and he sees
the marvel they are astonishel at vanishing in
face of the truth he has just set before them.
They never saw it on that fashion; they did
see strange things. But they spoke far better
than they knew. They of course referred to
the healing of the body. Had they any grasp
of the masterly work performed? Jesus heals
the suffering of the body and it is good; he
breathes his loving spirit into the heart of man
that pain may be eased and suffering relieved,
and we call it blessed; but first and all impor¬
tant he “forgives sin” and cures the heart—
makes the immoral leper clean.

Here is the summum struggle of the race—
to cut free from the biting, smarting sense of
sin. The Master clearly showed the way by
living. But as he looks over the writhing,
worsted humanity, hear him say, “Not all
men can receive this saying.” They must be
helped. So he cuts the shackles loose and
leads them on the way. Here he differs from
all other teachers in that he could live stain-

How He Found Faith in the Earth 103

less in each man’s case. He discovered the
need of that crowd at Capernaum as well as
that of the palsied man. He discovered and
came to help.

This Teacher claims the power to cure men
from sin as Son of man. When he frees the
man from his physical infirmities, the multi¬
tudes saw it, and were afraid, and glorified
God, who had given such authority unto men,
but Jesusproclaimed that the highest privilege
of his authority was to set at liberty them that
are bound with sin. His great work was to
make men righteous. This was the full test of
his power—to put the individual in right re¬
lation with God and his fellow.

The Lep er

It was so with the temple: “there was
neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron
heard in the house, while it was in building.”
Majestic silence has ever enriched the con¬
templative within the sacred courts of the
Lord. No mortal lifts the veil and looks
upon the Holy of Holies save he who with cov¬
ered head waits in the awful stillness of un¬
broken silence and knows the Lord that he is
Jehovah. No robber unveils this. No

104 The Silent Nazarene

amount of daring lets a man behind the veil.
Silently but surely the power behind the veil
draws the humble worshippers from all parts
of the land to the court of the temple with
their sacrifices and their prayers.

Has the silence of the night lifted the shad¬
ows? Has any ear heard shrieks or groans?
The pure, majestic, achieving soul of Christ
is breaking the clutching shackles of human
weakness, and is rising above the crushing tide
of tendencies that submerge the human race
without exception in sin.

Are the clamoring voices of men striving
to force an entrance into this silent Holy of
Holies of Christ? Truly they are drawn to
him because they are mystified by that some¬
thing that certain have found. They think
to thrust themselves upon him and win this
something for themselves. But behold they
are unable to break in. Their defeat fills
them with indignation. This erects stouter
bars.

But look, that crowd is breaking. What is
this strange thing? A leper who is forbidden
by law to draw near, but must stand afar off
and lift up his hands and cry, “Unclean! un¬
clean!” is kneeling before the Master, praying,
“If thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.”

How He Found Faith in the Earth 105

The face of Jesus is all compassion and he
touches him. What? Touch a leper? Set
aside the ceremonial law? Who is this man
who dares break with such a stringent past?
Listen, he speaks, “I will; be thou made
clean.” Straightway the leprosy departs from
him, and his skin is renewed as though it were
the flesh of a young child. He is clean. Does
this Teacher set aside the ceremonial past so
as to show men how radical he could act?
Hear: “Go show thyself to the priest, and of¬
fer for thy cleansing the things that Moses
commanded, for a testimony unto them.”

This leper was drawn by the power that
baffled those that stood by. The leper had
need of this power and felt it. He knew that
it could heal him and would do so, if ap¬
proached by one who knew his own crying
need. But it was simply to the confusion of
the multitude—this very power which was
the healing of the leper. He, the unclean
outcast, knelt and touched the Holy of Holies
in healing power. Upon the great pillars of
faith the enlarging chambers of his soul rested,
purged of all its loathing sin. Listen! the phy¬
sician and Teacher is giving a charge to the
healed man: “See thou say nothing to any

man.

106 The Silent Nazarene

But he who had beeh a leper was not the
Master. He had not yet caught the true secret.
He went forth and began to publish it much,
and to spread abroad the matter, insomuch that
Jesus could no more openly enter a city, but
was without in desert places. He noised it
about rather than let it work out in masterful
silent power. Could not men see for them¬
selves the marvelous cure that had been
wrought upon him? But this over-anxious
desire to publish it must thrust it upon them.
In turn these restless multitudes persist in
clamoring their way to the secret of power.
But no such way leads there. It only puts
them to greater confusion and perlexity.
u What manner of man is this?” They were
bent on finding out by use of violent methods.
They could not get it through them that the
leper’s way—kneeling at the feet of Jesus in
prayer, was the way and the only way to the
secret of that sacred power.

They came to him from every quarter.
They sought him in many desert places. Their
stormy efforts were as barren as the deserts
themselves. Has not the great sun made its
round in silent triumph, and yet how much
life is wasted mid the clamoring tempest?
And is not the earth wherein the life-giving

How He Found Faith in the Earth 107

sunbeams rest too often the burnglass that
scorches that self-same life with death? So
there are many barren and desert spots even
where Jesus passes in his lowliness and holi¬
ness, and many waste places remain where he
is present.

The Woman s Touch

It is given to the most wretched, the most
destitute, the most hopeless, and the most
helpless to find this silent way to the secret of
power. Not even did the disciples under¬
stand it. They cannot see how any touch can
differ from any other touch in the press and
throng.

But see how they press and throng him. It
is literally a jam. To make way is next to im¬
possible. Can any hope to edge through that
crowd? There is a lone woman who scarcely
has sufficient strength to drag herself along
and physicians have pronounced her hopeless,
yet she is edging her way through that jam
and press. This woman has had an issue of
blood twelve years, and has suffered many
things of many physicians, and is nothing bet¬
tered, but rather has grown worse. See! she
is patiently making her way through that
wedging press. These cannot bar her from

io8

The Silent Nazarene

her great physician. She does not clamor for
them to stand back. She does not lament and
tell her mournful tale of woes that a path
might be made for her through that press and
throng. But poor, weak woman! she patiently
and silently struggles for every little opening
given her in that pressing jam till she finds
herself directly behind her Physician. There
has been no shout—“stand back,” and now
there is no cry for mercy. She sees the Master
busy teaching. But she knows that to touch
even his garment will suffice. She touches the
very border. Poor soul! she is satisfied with the
lightest fringe. She knows she has found the
proper way of approach. Heaven will meet
the condition though she but touch the border
of his garment. Ah, she touches. Straight¬
way the fountain of her blood is dried up, and
she feels in her body that she is healed of her
plague.

The Master turns. Why, because none but
that healed woman knew the difference be¬
tween a touch of faith and that of the acci¬
dental press and jam. “Who touched my gar¬
ments?” The disciples are indignant at such
a needless question when they press him on
every side. Peter becomes their spokesman,
saying, “Master, the multitudes press thee and

How He Found Faith in the Earth 109

crush thee, and sayest thou, Who touched
me?’ ” But the Master looked round about to
see her that had done this thing, saying, “Some
one did touch me; for I perceived that power
had gone forth from me.” -

Then the trembling creature came forth.
She dared to tell it all. There will be no sor¬
did motive of making it a show. Falling at
his feet in the presence of all the people, she
told for what cause she had touched him and
how she was healed immediately. It was only
to convince and prove the genuineness of a
working faith. She even explained her mo¬
tive the best she could. Ere she touched the
border of his garment she said within herself
on this wise: “If I but touch his garments, I
shall be made whole.”

After she had made an end of telling him
the whole truth, Jesus said unto her, “Daugh¬
ter, thy faith hath made thee whole; go in
peace, and be whole of thy plague.”

The Centurion s Faith

Faith must give another glow—a radiant
hue. It was to be cast in the soul of centurion
this time. Faith is like the rare gem that
lends itself to the delicate touches of the light.

no

The Silent Nazarene

Lo, it shines best where the light must strug¬
gle to disclose its hidden beauty. The cen¬
turies were preparing the heart of the Jew a
receptacle for the supreme faith of Christ
to find response. But what were the cen¬
turies doing for the dog of Gentile in this
matter? Jesus here brings forth a living pic¬
ture of what was being done by the great good
God to give his supreme revelation to even
these despised ones.

As he comes down out of that mountain of
prayer the lepers—the outcasts of society, fling
themselves at the feet of him who dares to
enter even their retreats. The lepers are
cleansed, the eyes of the blind are open, the
ears of the deaf are unstopped, the sick are
made whole of divers plagues, and release is
proclaimed to the captives as Jesus of Naza¬
reth went about doing good. Somehow as the
thronging multitude is moving toward Caper¬
naum it is purer than when it met this Teacher
at the foot of the mountain of prayer. Not
Jews alone notice this strange transformation
that is daily going on before their eyes, but
the Gentiles are observing too. And shall
we say these very Gentiles are reading deeper
than are the Jews?

But look well to it, that moving throng has

How He Found Faith in the Earth ill

halted. What is taking place? The Master
is looking very earnest into the faces of two
men who are standing before him. Who are
they? They are Jewish elders stroking their
long beards. They are talking to him about
a centurion whose servant that is dear unto
him that is grievously tormented with the
palsy. They are speaking in a confidential
tone on this wise: “No, Teacher, we are
aware that this is a centurion—a Gentile that
is sending us to request this thing of thee. We
also fully appreciate that it is not in keeping
with our customs to request that Jewish favors
be bestowed upon Gentiles, but this man is
worthy for whom we ask this. He takes an
interest in our religion. Yes, he loves our na¬
tion and has built us a synagogue. Now he
has sent us to say to thee, ‘Lord, my servant
lieth in the house sick of the palsy, grievously
tormented.’ He requested us to come to thee
and lay his cause before thee. Of course if
he were a Jew he would have come to thee
himself and would have made his request di¬
rectly to thee as he might desire.”

The Master went with them, saying, “I will
go and heal him.” As he is now not far from
the house, the centurion who had his eyes set
in the direction the elders had gone forth, got

I 12

The Silent Nazarene

a glimpse of Him in the midst of the throng
and press, and rose up quickly to go and meet
him. Yes, he sees the Jewish elders in the
van of the throng. They were leading the
throng with an air of importance because of
this thing that they had done, for it was
through their good offices that the Teacher
recognized the plea of this centurion at all.
The feet of the elders are very light as they
feel an exhilarating satisfaction going through
their every tissue.

But the Roman halts as though a second
thought has taken hold of him. He is turning
and speaking to some Jewish friends at his
side. What is he saying to them? They are
too far away to let the throng hear the words.
But, lo, these men are running towards the
crowd while the centurion is turning back to
his house. What has taken place in that Rom¬
an’s mind? Is he disgusted at the vanity of
the elders? Has he lost faith, and dispatched
these friends to inform the Teacher that it is
useless to come further?

Now the friends of the centurion are before
the Master. Listen! they are saying unto him:
“Lord, trouble not thyself; for I am not
worthy that thou shouldest come under my
roof: wherefore neither thought I myself

How He Found Faith in the Earth 113

worthy to come unto thee: but say the word
and my servant shall be healed. For I also
am a man set under authority, having under
myself soldiers; and I say to this one, Go, and
he goeth; and to another, Come, and he
cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he
doeth it.”

There is a look of amazement on the face of
the great Teacher. Have the multitudes ever
witnessed such a look before? Has he not
performed marvelous things before their eyes?
Certainly this is out of the ordinary for this
Teacher to marvel. All is silent as the great
Master looks into the faces of these men who
have brought these words from the centurion.
The eye of Christ penetrates that thronging
multitude and searches the worshipping heart
of that centurion. Then turning to the pas¬
sionate, unsettled multitude that followed him,
he says, “I have not found so great faith, no,
not in Israel.” It were as though he said:

“I have been searching the hearts of Israel
for a glimpse of such a precious faith but I
have been unable to find any near the sim¬
plicity and beauty of this centurion’s faith. I
have been obliged to go out of the borders of
Israel to find this high degree of working
faith. Ye prize yourselves in being children

The Silent Nazarene

114

uf special privilege. Ye make yourselves be¬
lieve that the Gentiles are excluded from these
privileges by God. But I say unto you, ‘That
many shall come from the east and the west,
and shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven; but the sons
of the kingdom shall be cast forth
into outer darkness: there shall be the
weeping and the gnashing of teeth.’ And
this thing shall not be for any arbitrary
reason either. This centurion by reason of his
high degree of faith shall naturally take his
place with Abraham. This man is being jus¬
tified by faith even as it was with Abraham,
and therefore takes a seat in the kingdom
even by Abraham, which ye forfeit because
of the unbelief of the hardness of your
hearts.”

Jesus pauses as he turns his eyes toward
the house, and penetrating that miracle-mon-
gering crowd sees the honest, sincere worship¬
ping heart, and the heart of Jesus is knit with
the heart of the centurion, and opening his
lips he speaks directly to the centurion, for
he had drawn nigh unto the house, saying,
“Go thy way; as thou hast believed, so be it
done unto thee.”

How He Found Faith in the Earth 115

The Nobleman s Faith

In what awkward ways the heart makes its
attempts at faith? It is hard to draw the line
between sight and faith. Often a man will
insist that his faith is pure when it is three-
fourths sight. But Jesus who has his fan in
his hand is ever sifting the chaff from the
wheat; yes, he sifts for the finest of the wheat
after the first separation is made from the
coarser chaff. This sifting process is the more
difficult for it is hard to discern heavenly
things. But Jesus moves in faith clear and
unclouded.

He is coming out of Judea into Galilee. He
has been to his first Passover since beginning
his ministry. The people had their eyes fixed
upon him down there at the feast. Many be¬
lieved on his name, beholding the signs that
he did. But Jesus did not trust himself unto
them, for that he knew all men. He saw the
mistaken direction of their faith. They be¬
lieved because they beheld the signs. Faith
was sight with them. Different ones were try¬
ing to tell him what these “believing Jews”
expected of him. The disciples themselves
were very anxious to inform him of the nature
of what these adherents were looking for in

ii 6 The Silent Nazarene

order that they might not be disappointed in
their expectations, and that he might leave no
opportunity slip in winning disciples. As these
were whispering such things among them¬
selves with a degree of confiding, his great
lonely heart was full of pity for those who
thought themselves so nearly after his heart.
They did not need to explain conditions unto
Him for “he himself knew what was in man.”

With this deep insight he goes into Galilee
—everywhere meeting a throng. When at
the very doors grossness is bolting in. The
Galileans throng him. They have seen all
the wonders that have made disciples at Jeru¬
salem, for they also went unto the feast. They
insist that he do mighty works in Galilee as
he did at Jerusalem. They are thronging him,
asking for a sign. He has made his way as
far as Cana.

They come from Capernaum to Cana seek¬
ing signs. There comes out of Capernaum an
officer of the king—even one of Herod’s of¬
ficers. This nobleman has something weigh¬
ing upon his mind and heart. He draws as
near the Master as possible mid the jamming
crowd. With anxious countenance he looks
into the face of the busy Teacher. The eye of
Christ has seen all the while but he does not

How He Found Faith in the Earth 117

pause in the midst of his teaching for he knows
full well the nature of the atmosphere in
which he is moving. This nobleman is anx¬
ious to speak with the Healer but cannot bring
himself to break the laws of propriety and
thrust in upon him to ask favors while he is
busy. But how can he tarry longer? His son
is at the point of death. Why would it not
suffice to touch his garments? Why not kneel
before the Teacher as did the leper and con¬
fess to the Master what he believes he can do
if he wills? The Master pauses and looks
upon him as distress is marking itself upon
his countenance more gravely every minute.
The pause is but an instant and the impatient
nobleman breaks in with a flood of supplica¬
tion. He presses upon the Master the neces¬
sity of coming down to Capernaum at once
and healing his son lest he die. Of course if
he dies all is over. It must be done at once
to save the life of his boy. In his excitement
he has forgotten propriety.

The Teacher in masterful calmness speaks,
saying, “Except ye see signs and wonders, ye
will no wise believe.” The nobleman did not
expect this rebuff. Now a pleading excite¬
ment of over-anxiety lays hold of him as he
vehemently insists, saying, “Sir, come down

118 The Silent Nazarene

ere my child die.” This nobleman would im¬
press the Teacher with the necessity of making
haste—no time to discuss the relations of be¬
lief to signs. It would have been well if he
could have spoken after the manner of the
centurian,“Lord, speak the word and my child
shall live,” instead of being jeopardized by
the awful fear lest there would not be suf¬
ficient haste to save his child. Jesus will lead
this nobleman into that higher faith into which
the centurian leaps and seizes the reward.
This man could not reach his home till the
morrow though he turn back at once. Jesus
speaks on this wise: “Go thy way; thy son
liveth.” This was as though he said: “Thou
art acting on the assumption that faith and
sight have something in common, and that
sight may exist, without faith, but faith never
without sight. But I say, Go without sight,
Go thy way; thy son liveth.” Jesus remains
at Cana while that nobleman with his train of
servants which he had to bring Jesus down
departs for Capernaum. Somehow he is fac¬
ing Capernaum in a new faith—everything is
new. The morning is beginning to break, and
the crimson hues of light are making the rosy
morning blush. There coming up the steep
slopes towards the valley of the Sea of Galilee,

How He Found Faith in the Earth 119

he gets a glimpse of a little company. As
they draw nearer he recognizes his own ser¬
vants. Does a cold chill of apprehension that
something worse has befallen his child since
he left come over him? Not at all—his faith
is clear and complacent, he knows all is right.
He believed the word of Jesus. His servants
are eager to tell him that his son lived. He
quietly inquires of them the hour. They an¬
swer, “Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever
left him.” As the little company moves on in
silence the nobleman in deep meditation rever¬
ently mutters, “It was at that hour the Teacher
said, Thy son liveth.”

As he enters the house and relates the story,
the mother looks upon her boy restored to
health and then upon her husband upon whom
faith had wrought such wonderful transforma¬
tion, and believes. Yes, the whole house be¬
lieves. What? That a prophet is able to say
the word in Cana among the hills of Galilee
so that the sick is restored to health in Caper¬
naum by the sea?

But what of the Teacher’s faith? Some¬
how the supreme faith this Teacher manifested
was as though he walked in sight. He al¬
ways brought forth results. In spite of all this
he would insist that these outward manifesta-

120

The Silent Nazarene

tions which the people called results were not
“the good part that could not be taken away.”
The large as well as the important part was
hidden from sight. Faith only could achieve
in this larger realm. So he must bid the noble¬
man walk by faith over the hills of Galilee
even from Cana to Capernaum. As the noble¬
man walks in faith he walks with God and
achieves—grips the secret of faith which had
its spring in the Teacher.

The Syrophcenician Woman

As Teacher goes forward the opposition be¬
comes more persistent and stubborn. Truly
he is finding faith in the earth—much fertile
and good ground to receive the seed he is sow¬
ing, but the edge of vanity and jealousy is be¬
ing whetted more keen. Eyes that really hate
are fixed upon his good deeds of service. He
cuts through the shell and lays bare the hurt
that is festering beneath a goodly appearance.
The Pharisees are placing their treacherous
snares everywhere. Jesus knows it all. Yet
his kindness to men does not abate, though the •
rising storm to crush him beats in persistently
from every side.

He withdraws into the borders of Tyre and

How He Found Faith in the Earth 121

Sidon. There he seeks rest. He goes into an
obscure house seeking cover from the storm
that has been so mad about him. But he has
no rest there. Here comes this one begging
to be healed; there is that unfortunate crea¬
ture imploring aid. He goes out into the open.
He may as well stand in the midst of the
rushing stream of humanity—men want to see
the face of Christ even in these foreign bor¬
ders.

But he is for the Jews only—of course he is.
What then is that Greek woman about in fol¬
lowing him? She is actually crying for mercy.
The Teacher is paying no attention to her cry
either. She goes persistently on and gets
rather boisterous in her cry, saying, “Have
mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my
daughter is grievously vexed with a demon.”
But he is silent—he answers her not a word.
How can this man who went about doing good
so ignore the cry of this distracted woman?
The disciples are vexed at this altogether im¬
proper action on the part of this dog of a
Gentile, and besought him, saying, “Send her
away; for she crieth after us.” He answers
and says, “Yes, I was not sent but unto the
lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Does she
see that she is disgusting the disciples, and is

122

The Silent Nazarene

not winning the approval of the Teacher?
She hears what the Teacher has said to the
disgusted disciples and crushes herself through
the edging crowd, and came, and worshipped
him, saying, “Lord, help me.” Her impru¬
dence calls rebuke from the Teacher upon
whom she has thrust herself? Why did he
not send her away at the suggestion of the out¬
raged disciples? Why cruelly thrust through
her fervent appeal? Listen! is this from the
lips of the Teacher who spake words of sym¬
pathy and hope as never man spake? “It is
not meet to take the children’s bread and cast
it to the dogs.” But what of that creature?
Does she resent this unwarranted thrust? She
is conscious that she is a Gentile, and does not
have to have it reinforced by a phrase of con¬
tempt to cause her to realize her position. Is
there something in the manner of his voice
that kills the spirit of resentment, or is she so
overwhelmed with grief that she does not sense
it? Hear—she speaks, “Yea (that’s so), Lord;
even the dogs under the table eat of the chil¬
dren’s crumbs.” We will question the wisdom
of the procedure of this Teacher no further.
He answered and said unto her, “O woman,
great is thy faith: be it done unto thee even as
thou wilt.”

How He Found Faith in the Earth 123

This woman was where she could will and
have her desire. And her daughter was healed
from that hour.

“And He Healed Many”

This man of Nazareth walks forward in the
earth taking for granted that all things must
bend to the wishes of the fullgrown man. Of
course this man must be fullgrown, and a man
must walk with Jesus to be fullgrown. We
find this Man teaching as never man taught
before—the source of his teaching is centered
in God while the object of his instruction is
centered in the needs of man—his brother.
He is negligent of his own needs. It is as
though he had none that should call for con¬
sideration. At times he did try to find rest
but upon how many occasions did he forsake
his rest and come into the throng to help men
on to life. Never man did as this man—he
was no recluse, no ascetic—but what of sacri¬
fice? That was everywhere. Things that the
earth called good were constantly thrust be¬
hind him. They must go as shadows as he
wades into the suffering needs of men. Yes,
he heals many of divers diseases. He does not
stop here. He takes the dead by the hand

124

The Silent Nazarene

and says, “Arise.” Yes, as one would call a
friend from his morning rest he calls the dead
to life again. It is so when men laugh him to
scorn because he speaks of death as men do
of sleep, he goes on unwavering in his course,
takes the dead by the hand and calls it back
into life as gently as a mother calls her sleep¬
ing child to its play. Who is this man? We
must read what we can of his life and let that
suffice, for the power with which he is ac¬
quainted is always at hand and is always effi¬
cient. He needs only to exercise faith in this
power and things are done. He seeks to con¬
vince men that such power is even at their
doors. He tells them that with an almost in¬
conceivable amount of faith they could uproot
a mountain and hurl it into the sea. A word
would do this he says. Have faith in God and
all things are at your command. But we must
not forget that he who taught and acted on this
principle said likewise, “An evil and an adul¬
terous generation seeketh after a sign”; and
that he also said of himself, “My meat is to
do the will of him that sent me.” So the great
mark of consistency is found everywhere in
him.

Now he has come out of the borders of Tyre
and Sidon to the sea of Galilee into the midst

How He Found Faith in the Earth 125

of the Decapolis. Yes, he is in the midst of the
cities again, and there is a howling multitude.
They all are eager to see. To see what! Just
what men of every generation clamor for—to
see “some strange thing.” How they tire of
the mediocre and commonplace. Yet life is
staked deep in things of common kind. Here
the restless multitude is surging again—their
fickle demands pressing upon the overwrought
teacher.

Many also bring their sick to be healed.
Here is a deaf mute. What can he expect?
Jesus cannot get an answer from this man as
to what he would have him do and thereby
determine his faith. This man of God de¬
pends not upon lips to tell needs and show
faith. He knows “what is in man,” and he is
at home with the needs of men. So this
tongue-tied, deaf man does not even need
to nod his head to tell what he believes
can be done. But Jesus takes him aside pri¬
vately from the fickle multitude that was cu¬
rious to see “some sign,” and he put his fingers
into his ears and touched his tongue; and look¬
ing up to heaven he sighed and said unto him,
“Be opened.”

Why aside privately? Could he not have
been healed with a word mid the multitude?

126

The Silent Nazarene

Is not this what the friends of the dumb man
expected? His ears were opened; the bond of
his tongue was loosed, and he spake plain. But
something else happened. The Healer charged
this loosed tongue to hold the secret—“tell no
man.” But the more he charged him so much
the more he published it. Yes, when he re¬
turns to the multitude speaking plainly every
one must ask him a question to hear how he
speaks. Do you hear them exclaim, “It was
never so seen in Israel.” They were as¬
tonished beyond measure, saying, “He hath
done all things well; he maketh even the deaf
to hear and the dumb to speak.” They could
test this miracle on the spot, and examine it by
the word of mouth—handle and touch it
everywhere. So the Teacher lays the charge,
“Except ye see signs ye will not believe.”

The New Birth

The prophet said of the coming righteous
ruler—the Branch of the stock of Jesse, “He
shall draw his breath in the fear of the Lord.”
He gives him a place of unique distinction
above all the rulers of the earth. The atmos¬
phere in which the rulers of the earth draw
their breath is charged with self-interests—

How He Found Faith in the Earth 127

they judge after the sight of the eye and the
hearing of the ear. But it is not so with this
king. “He shall not judge after the sight of
the eyes, neither decide after the hearing of the
ears; but with righteousness.”

Marked are the traces in physical life of
the atmosphere in which they draw their
breath. They are as the breath they breathe.
They live, move and have their being in
that which they breathe. They change
with it, and we say, They become accli¬
mated. When they give up drawing their
breath in the atmosphere they become like the
inanimate nature out of which their breath
came. Some of the elements of their decom¬
posing forms become through the changing
processes of nature the atmosphere to feed
the physical life anew. Constantly a new or¬
der is born out of an old order, but still it is
physical—still it is densely ingrained in sel¬
fishness—each seed is yielding seed after its
kind. They feed and help each other in spite
of self-promotion. Nature forces them to die
—to give their lives to others—a law born
out of necessity. This is the law to which the
brute must yield. Must man share in the
same? He must draw his breath in two atmos¬
pheres—the physical and the spiritual.

128

The Silent Nazarene

Man opens his eyes in a material world,
and he has his ears open to catch the sounds
from every direction. He may doubt every¬
thing else, and he may thrust himself along
and exist in spite of everything else, but one
thing he knows—he knows the body must be
fed. He may gather his living as the savage
by plundering the weaker, or he may steal, or
he may get it dishonestly by invading the
rights of his fellow, or he may be in the
struggle honestly for that which he knows he
must have. This to both eye and ear is the
very important thing—“A man must live.”

Now the spiritual side in its manifold pos¬
sibilities is in need of training and develop¬
ment to enable it to swing out into the larger
range of the universe. But here at the very
threshold it is endangered of being bound
hand and foot in the physical struggle for ex¬
istence which develops into greed. Instead
of the spirit enlarging and rising out of the
physical it is saturated and surcharged with
it. This renders the rulers incapable of ren¬
dering righteous judgment, they are largely
biased by their own interests—they are as the
atmosphere in which they draw their breath.

What moral and spiritual excellence must
there be to lift above these things? It must

How He Found Faith in the Earth 129

be none other than this, that one must draw his
breath in the spiritual rather than the phy¬
sical atmosphere. The spiritual atmosphere
must proceed forth from the God-centre—He
must draw his breath in the fear of the Lord.
“And righteousness shall be the girdle of his
waist, and faithfulness the girdle of his loins.”
It is no longer a matter of nature driving and
forcing on out of its laws of necessity that
death may force the rightful claim of others,
but it is a matter of moral and spiritual
achievement in which the motives of unselfish¬
ness rule and make possible the life that is
achieving in giving up all in enriching life
about it. Such requires the new birth—the
birth from above out of the higher spiritual
order: “Ye must be born again.”

What then is the advantage? Here the
rights of others are not only tolerated, and
jealousy safeguarded, but the servant’s own
life is lost sight of in interest of the life all
about. It is no longer bold necessity driving
one to give up for sake of the other but it is
love sweetening and strengthening life every¬
where. Brutes no longer devour one another
for a subsistence but men live for one another,
and all work together in the supreme love of
God for the perfecting of the plan of crea-

130 The Silent Nazarene

tion.

Now there was a man of the Pharisees,
named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews: the
same came to Jesus by night, and said to him,
“Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come
from God; for no man can do these signs that
thou doest, except God be with him.”

Now this was the way exactly the common
people were measuring Jesus, namely, by the
miracles he was performing. Marveling at
the signs that he did, the common people at
once took him to be the Messiah, and set them¬
selves to make him their king; but the same
excited jealousy in the breasts of the Pharisees.
But this time we have a Pharisee coming to
Jesus and it meant much for this man, being
a ruler of the Jews, to take such a step. He
had seen these signs wrought and his heart
was burning within him to have a private in¬
terview with the Teacher.

The night is quiet, and why arouse any
needless prejudice in a matter of this kind?
The foolhardy and the unwise flaunt what they
can do in the face of bias and prejudice. So
this man comes at night to have a quiet, un¬
disturbed interview with the great Teacher.

Jesus is not talking to the unlearned and
the man of common affairs this time; but he is

How He Found Faith in the Earth 131

conversing with one who should, if any, un¬
derstand the great things that pertain to the
religion of the Jews. However, this ruler did
did not introduce himself, happily for his
position and standing in Israel. He was tak¬
ing the same standard of measurement as the
common people.

At the suggestion of the learned ruler that
the signs that the Teacher did were unmistak¬
able marks of his divine origin, Jesus an¬
swered and said unto him:

“Then, Nicodemus, thou hast proof of what
I am, and whence I came?”

“Yea, Teacher, I have good evidence—I
have seen the miracles thou hast wrought, and
I am convinced that no man can do these signs
except God be with him.”

“This then is proof conclusive that the king¬
dom of God is come?”

“Yea, Rabbi, all men believe that Messiah
has come.”

But Jesus answered and said: “Verily,
verily, I say unto you, except a man be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

There are two or three deep furrows in his
forehead as Nicodemus looks into the calm,
benign face of the Christ as the pale light of
the moon is but half revealing the delicate

132

The Silent Nazarene

tender pity that is expressing itself from his
deep searching eyes. Do the lips of the Christ
quiver, or do they remain fixed while his eyes
in the spell of that pale moonlight pierce and
speak, “Are they hard words, Nicodemus?”

What questions have been beaten out at
white heat from the forge of the inquiring soul
under the spell of the mystical? The lips of
this ruler of the Jews part, and the question
that is forged under the glow of the mystical
spell, he somehow attempts to excuse in a
childish inquiry, saying, “How can a man be
born when he is old? can he enter a second
time into his mother’s womb, and be born?”

Jesus answers on this wise: “Is it possible
that thou canst only think in terms of the flesh
and the material? The flesh profiteth noth¬
ing. The Spirit maketh alive. Verily, verily,
I say unto thee, except a man be born of the
Spirit he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

At this Nicodemus looked upon the Christ
in silent amazement. He was not prepared to
speak for what a trifling distance was the un¬
derstanding of this ruler of the Jews removed
from that of the common people? He was
measuring the Teacher with the same measure
as that of the fickle multitude. The Teacher
looked upon this ruler mystified to silence.

How He Found Faith in the Earth 133

and said: “That which is born of the flesh
is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is
spirit. Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye
must be born anew. The wind bloweth where
it will, and thou hearest the voice thereof,
but knowest not whence it cometh, and whither
it goeth: so is every one that is born of the
Spirit. Thou knowest that it is done—the
marks are proof positive.”

Nicodemus is perplexed beyond measure,
for somehow he feels the ground sliding from
under his feet—even that ground upon which
the Jewish thought of the Messiah had built
so strongly. All the Jews’ ambitions and hopes
were freighted upon this one hope. Now he
discovered this man to whom he bound this
hope looking into something vague and un¬
certain—apart from the cherished hope upon
which the Jew had staked his all. So with
lips apart Nicodemus continues to look into
the face of the great Teacher, but as he looks
his lips steal an expression from his over¬
charged soul.

“How can these things be?”

Jesus knew all the while what was going
forward in this ruler’s soul of souls, and an¬
swered and said unto him, “Art thou the
teacher of Israel, and understandest not these

134

The Silent Nazarene

things? Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We
speak that which we know, and bear witness
of that which we have seen; and ye receive
not our witness. If I told you earthly things
and ye believe not, how shall ye believe if I
tell you heavenly things?”

Nicodemus bows his head in deep contem¬
plation as though he said, “I don’t understand
but I will follow thee.” So it was when the
rulers of the Jews were assembled in Council
to condemn the Teacher and plan his destruc¬
tion that Nicodemus saith unto them, “Doth
our law judge a man, except it first hear from
himself and know what he doeth?” This
brought down the storm upon the head of
Nicodemus, for they answered him, saying,
“Art thou also of Galilee? Search, and see
that out of Galilee ariseth no prophet.” And
John who gives us this glimpse of the great
Teacher and this lone pupil on that certain
night gives us this glimpse also: “And
there came also Nicodemus, he who at first
came to him at night, bringing a mixture of
myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds.
So they took the body of Jesus and bound it in
linen cloths with the spices.”

The silent miracle was at work—the new
birth was on in spite of the fact that the cher-

How He Found Faith in the Earth 135
ished hope of Israel was shattered.

The Living Water

These two are inseparably linked together
—God and immortality. This has been the
miracle working spirit among men. It mat¬
ters little how men of scientific bias endeavor
to explain the teachings of Jesus as being pri¬
marily confined to this earthly life, there al¬
ways has been, and there is, and there always
will be a large majority among Christians
who insist with Paul: “If in this life only we
have hope in Christ, we are of all men most
miserable (pitiable).” However, this may
be interpreted, this one thing is certain, the
apostle had insistent reference to the resur¬
rection and the hope in the future life for the
individual. Not the immortality and triumph
of the good, though that is tacitly assumed.
It is certainly individual immortality that is
aimed at—Eternal life and enjoyment of the
Kingdom of God for all who have “fought
the good fight” and have “kept the faith.”

Men will ever interpret such words as these
from Jesus: “Because I live, ye shall live
also,” not as referring to a redeemed and
purged social order, but as a declaration of in-

136

The Silent Nazarene

dividual immortality when death has stripped
the last vestige of material being from off the
soul of the believer. It shall be an immortal¬
ity of divine companionship—the life of the
believer is inseparably bound up in the life of
the great Friend and Redeemer. And as
this Redeemer is God for us, it is the most
natural conclusion in the world to say: “Be¬
cause God lives we shall live also.” Do not
the gospels breathe out this spirit everywhere?
The parables have reference to this great up¬
lifting hope that raises humanity’s drooping
head; so is the irresistible undercurrent of the
miracles or works of Jesus (for all the works
of Jesus are miracles, for when have works
transformed the heart of humanity as these
works have done?) ; and his direct teachings
(without parable and without works) always
leave the spirit aglow that this is so. Men
may have taken the teachings of Paul to erect
their precise definitions in theology, but it
cannot be said that from these precise man¬
made phrases and absolute categorical defini¬
tions they have drawn their inspiration of
eternal life. Sanely considering it on the
other hand—the works, the parables, the direct
teachings, and the life of Jesus Christ on
earth have the great climax in the risen Lord

How He Found Faith in the Earth 137

—a voice that cannot be hushed. Earth may
hold the empty tomb but heaven received the
risen Lord. The believer remembers that
Jesus of Nazareth said, “I go to prepare a
place for you,” and that believer knows that
the risen Lord has gone that way to fulfill the
promise, and sets his face steadfastly in the
direction his Lord has gone. The burden of
proof is with the opposition if they will have
it otherwise.

Why all these words? Because men have
been unwilling to grasp immortality in its en¬
tirety. Not that they fail to live the whole of
immortality at once, that is out of the question,
but that they have been confused as to its be¬
ginning—many thought the grave was to be
the beginning; yes, and many think the same
to-day; while others hold—eat, drink, and be
merry here, and if there is anything hereafter—
“all well and good,” and if not you have this
much enjoyment out of your existence at any
rate. This latter class miss the mark en¬
tirely. Such would not justify even an exist¬
ence. It is sheer selfishness to make enjoy¬
ment an end in itself as this class would fain
do. Existence is justified only in living for
others, and immortality awakens in the breast
just in so far as life is lost in the welfare of

138

The Silent Nazarene

the neighbor. The two voices must not be
confused. Gross selfishness says, “Get out of
life all you can for yourself:” while the seed
out of which immortality bursts forth is every¬
where exclaiming, “Put into life all you can
for others.” So the embryo of immortality is
service, and this is certainly what Jesus taught,
“He that loseth his life for my sake shall find
it.” Equally true is it that self-seeking is
the sepulchre of death, “He that findeth his
life shall lose it.” Here it is all put succinctly.
The man who seeks to get out of life all he
can for self and who fears to trust too much
to a future life lest he leave some enjoyment
slip here on earth, loses himself in eternal
death; while the man who lives by the great
principles of Christ in denying self and taking
up his cross forgets himself into eternal life.
This is not merely a great name to endure to
the end of time in the memory of men, for
that too is hollow deceiving, but the fact of a
personal life of development out of the great
principles of love and service in an eternity
beginning with the first unfolding of life—
this unbroken development of the personal life
of the individual is the immortality that is
meant.

As a reaction to the doctrine that we must

How He Found Faith in the Earth 139

wait till the grave gives up its dead to begin
immortality, and also to escape the monstrous
idea that we are to get all the enjoyment out
of this life possible, as a bird in the hand is
worth two in the bush, men have laid undue
emphasis upon service to our fellows here.
Yes, they tell us to go ahead and do the right
thing by our fellows here as the future is back
of the veil and we do not know very much
about it at any rate. It’s a matter of very
little concern to us, and Christ did not place
much emphasis upon it either. Is this so?
Is this voice a true interpretation of Christ?
Does it voice the highest that is in the heart
of man? The answer in each case comes with
an emphatic “No.” Personal immortality is
the important thing just as the personal exist¬
ence of the Eternal God is the important
thing. Then the man who is voicing our age
throws up his hands and exclaims with great
indignation, “Selfishness!—then you make the
motive for immortality selfish, and personal
salvation is a selfish affair.”

Let the charge this voice has brought be
searched out. It is a selfish affair if you are
trying to be saved alone regardless of the good
that should come by your having lived to your
fellows. But if what we see here among men is

140 The Silent Nazarene

a glimpse of the perfect type that is in heaven,
then it is no selfish idea if we wish to grow out
of limitations and imperfections to be clothed
upon with larger capacity for doing good.
We are told by him who attained the highest
moral and spiritual achievements the earth has
ever witnessed that “God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son that who¬
soever believeth on him should not perish,
but have eternal life.”

Now the motive that prompts Heaven to
serve and save is love. Love does not need
an imperfect world in the sense that it is sin¬
ful to do service. Many in these days speak
as though the whole of service is the patching
up of disabled machinery. The machinery
needs repair, that is true, but it needs to be
repaired that the grain might be better pro¬
duced and garnered. Therefore, the highest
achievements, and that for which we are so
busy in bringing about the proper conditions
for bodily comfort and development is moral
and spiritual excellence. Jesus Christ says,
Take the Father’s perfection as the goal to¬
ward which to strive.

If we are to be perfect even as our Father
who is in heaven is perfect, it should not be
surprising when we hear Jesus saying such

How He Found Faith in the Earth 141

things as these: “Whosoever liveth and be-
lieveth in me shall never die”; “He that be-
lieveth on me hath everlasting life”; “Because
I live, ye shall live also”; “Whosoever drink-
eth of the water that I shall give him shall
never thirst; but the water that I shall give
him shall be in him a well of water springing
up into everlasting life.” The grave does not
even arrest this great process of life. It is
but the bursting of the crude shell, and life
cuts loose from its many limitations, springs
up into its larger activities—a living in and
because of Christ, putting on more and more
of the nature of God.

He who grasps this conception here prays
fervently and reverently, Thy will be done in
earth as it is in heaven. God’s will being
done here does not exclude its being done in
heaven, but makes emphatic the burning de¬
sire of the child of God that earth be brought
into closer relation and a deeper harmony
with heaven. He who prays fervently, “Thy
kingdom come,” does not exclude individual
or personal immortality, but shares in the
great beneficent nature of God who wills that
all peoples of the earth have part in the high¬
est possible good and blessedness. They who
utter this prayer are moved by the great mo-

142

The Silent Nazarene

tive that moves the heart of God, for God so
loved the world. This is participating in
God’s great nature, entering into his beneficent
plan, and achieving along with his Almighty
arm.

"Therefore to whom turn I but to thee, the
ineffable Name?

Builder and maker, thou, of houses not
made with hands!

What, have fear of change from thee who art
ever the same?

Doubt that thy power can fill the heart that
thy power expands?

Th ere shall never be one lost good! What
was, shall live as before;

The evil is null, is naught, is silence imply-
ing sound;

What was good shall be good, with, for evil,
so much good more;

On earth the broken arcs; in heaven, the
perfect round.”

Shall we then say that the grave shall sun¬
der such relations, or even arrest this com¬
panionable working together? Shall the Al¬
mighty go on and cast aside those with whom
he has wrought and take on new till he sees

How He Found Faith in the Earth 143

fit to be done with them? Wherein then
shall the plan of creation be effected? Shall
he discard and cast aside all types till he gets
a type to suit him? Why not then have created
a perfect type in the beginning? Can he take
the imperfect type and bring it into perfec¬
tion if that type desires that such should be,
and that God’s will be done in the achieving?
Is not the desire of the child like unto that of
the Father? And where is the power in
heaven, earth or hell that can separate the
yearnings of the heart of the child for the
Father from the loving kindness and the ten¬
der mercies of the great heart of the Almighty
Father for the child? “For I am persuaded,
that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
principalities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor
any other creature, shall be able to separate
us from the love of God, which is in Christ
Jesus our Lord.”

Righteousness shall cover the earth as the
waters cover the seas, and then how much
more grandly shall developing souls burst the
crude shell and enter upon the eternal inherit¬
ance, as servants of the Most High; yea, as
sons of God, heirs of God and joint-heirs with
Christ. The redeemed and purged social or-

144

The Silent Nazarene

der upon the earth will not exclude individual
immortality, and was never taught by Christ
and his disciples that it would. But on the
other hand the definite teachings on which
the hope of individual immortality is based,
have broadened the horizon, deepened the
zenith, and have made men heroic in circum¬
stances that otherwise would have crushed
them. To minimize this uplifting hope will
be to make men move in a dead line in the
earth, however pure and noble the idea may
be thought to be by doing so. What grander
purpose can there be than a glowing desire to
have all men everywhere to lift up their heads
above the dead-weight of materialism and
share in this most blessed of hopes? Without
it men become gross as the material with
which they work, and though noble their ef¬
forts might seem to be the force is spent in
patching up machinery to have it fall to pieces
in their hands. The Master has warned us of
this sort, saying, “Labor not for the meat that
perisheth.” Then too with the fulcrum of
immortality to lift the faith of men we have
something to console when “The silver chord
is loosed, or the golden bowl is broken, or the
pitcher is broken at the fountain, or the wheel
broken at the cistern, and the dust returneth

How He Found Faith in the Earth 145

to the earth as it was,” for we are persuaded
that the spirit of our friend “returneth unto
God who gave it.”

Jesus leaves Judea, and departs for Galilee,
and he must needs pass through Samaria.
And he came to Sychar, a city of Samaria,
near to the parcel of ground Jacob gave to his
son Joseph; and Jacob’s well was there. He
sat by the well as his disciples departed into
the city to buy bread. As he sat there a wo¬
man came out of the city to draw water. That
woman saw him this lone Jew but made as
though she saw him not. This Jew, however,
is searching out her heart, and saith unto her,

“Give me to drink.”

The woman, starting back, saith unto him,
“How is it that thou, being a Jew, asketh
drink of me who am a Samaritan?”

“If thou knewest the gift of God, and who
it is that saith to thee, ‘Give me to drink,’ thou
wouldst have asked of him, and he would have
given thee living water.”

The woman saith unto him, “Sir, thou hast
nothing to draw with, and the well is deep:
whence then hast thou that living water?”

The eye of the great Teacher penetrated and
searched deep into the secrets of the soul

146

The Silent Nazarene

that was drawing within itself. The woman
would ask another question as though subtly
to conceal the importance she attached to the
first.

“Art thou greater than our father Jacob,
who gave us the well, and drank thereof him¬
self, and his sons and his cattle?” But help¬
less creature! she had only opened the way
for this Jew whose eye was searching her out.

The Jew answered, saying, “Every one that
drinketh of this water shall thirst again. The
water of this well gives only temporary sat¬
isfaction; thirst becomes as burning as ever,
and if the man who drinketh here is lost in
the desert he will die of thirst.

“Whosoever drinketh of the water that I
shall give him shall never thirst; but the water
that I shall give him shall become in him a
well of water springing up unto eternal life.”

Doth she still evade as though she discerned
not in the least the meaning of what he said?

“Sir, give me this water, that I thirst not
(had she made an end of speaking here it had
been well, but she must add further only to
her confusion), neither come all the way
hither to draw.”

The great Master has pressed the motive of
her heart to a thirsting desire, and now must

How He Found Faith in the Earth 147

uncover and lay bare the heart, showing her
“all she ever did.”

“Go, call thy husband, and come hither.”

Can she find any subtle way of evading this
request? She cast her eyes down and in spite
of herself made the bold confession, for the
searching eye and the pressing question of this
Jew had stung her to the quick: “I have no
husband.”

She didn’t mean to tell him that she only
sought to escape that scrutinizing search. But
the Teacher had uncovered the secret—laid
open the wound to the garish light which she
had fought so hard to keep him from accom¬
plishing.

“Thou saidst well, I have no husband: for
thou hast had five husbands; and he whom
thou now hast is not thy husband; this hast
thou said truly.”

It is as though the Teacher said even in lan¬
guage more expressive than the spoken word,
“Thou hast made as though thou couldst not
sense the meaning of what I was speaking to
thee concerning ‘the living water,’ but in thine
every word to conceal thou didst lay bare thy
need of the diving water.’ ”

The thing is so. But it is too plain for the
woman’s comfort. Again she must confess

148

The Silent Nazarene

as the truth presses, “Sir, I perceive that thou
art a prophet.” Had she stopped with this
admission she had done well. But such was
not to be. The gaze of the eyes of the revealer
of hearts was burning into her soul. She can¬
not look into his marvelous clear eye but must
cast her eyes to Mt. Gerizan, for she would
fain turn that terrible searching eye from her
heart to this place of Samaritan worship.
How she cried in her soul that he might spare
her as that eye was searching out the secrets,
and laying bare things just as they were. How
could she dare let him go further? So she
ventures a word to turn him from the privacy
of her soul to the general customs of her re¬
ligion, saying, “Our fathers worshipped in
this mountain; and ye say, that in Jerusalem is
the place where men ought to worship.”

But, woman, you have spoken again to your
confusion. This is no ordinary Jew, nor even a
Jewish prophet with whom you are speaking.
You understand far better than you wish to
admit by the manner of your speaking. Your
passing remark that either Jew or Samaritan
is wrong as each is insistent upon his own pe¬
culiar place of worship as the only right and
proper place is to cover you with greater con¬
fusion because of your subtle pretensions to

How He Found Faith in the Earth 149

conceal the fact that you have recognized the
truth. Did you hope to sidetrack this teacher
—to divert him from the matter in hand by
raising a question concerning the customs of
these peoples who had been antagonistic
from remote times? Listen! the Teacher takes
up the remark.

“Woman, believe me, the hour cometh,
when neither in this mountain, nor in Jerusa¬
lem shall ye worship the Father. Ye wor¬
ship that which ye know not: we worship that
which we know; for salvation is from the
Jews.”

This Teacher has started out in a way alto¬
gether new—the place of worship of the Fa¬
ther would not be either in Mt. Gerizan, or
in Jerusalem. In this statement alone he is a
strange teacher for he has now swung back
into line with the strictest of Jews: “Ye wor¬
ship that which ye know not: we worship that
which we know; for salvation is from the
Jews.” Has the expectation of the Samaritan
woman been met by the Jew? Have we
reached the despair of the Gentile in this
Teacher also? But he has not made an end
of speaking yet. Let us hear.

“But the hour cometh, and now is, when the
true worshippers shall worship the Father in

150 The Silent Nazarene

spirit and truth: for such doth the Father seek
to be his worshippers. God is a Spirit: and
they that worship him must worship him in
spirit and truth. It cannot be otherwise. It
is a matter of the heart, woman, and not of
either ‘this mountain,’ or Jerusalem.”

Is she saying in the holy of holies of her
soul, “Yea, he is hitting straight at me again—
I have had five husbands, and the man with
whom I am living at present is not my hus¬
band. The heart must be true if the spirit is
to worship the Father. So here the well of
water springs up unto eternal life. But, oh!
my heart-”

Why didn’t she tear herself away from him?
He was reading her life and she was reading
out of the same book. She must stand and
leave him read.

It is so—she forgets all about filling her
water-jar, and is led to ask question after
question to her own confusion. He has gone
to the seat of her sinful life, and now launch¬
ing out into the deep of spiritual mysteries
he is telling her what is essential to be a true
worshipper. It all resolves itself into what
he told Nicodemus—“Ye must be born
anew.” This woman knows that it all comes
to what her heart is. Will she ask a needless

How He Found Faith in the Earth 151

question? or will she ask a question to verify
what she already is convinced to be true?

“I know that Messiah cometh (he that is
called Christ) : when he is come, he will de¬
clare unto us all things.”

This declarative question is a feeler of the
way. Somehow she wishes to have her con¬
viction reinforced by words direct from the
Teacher. Hardly daring to put a question for
a matter so plain she hopes that a suggestion
or hint will suffice.

Jesus saith unto her, “I that speak unto thee
am he.”

Upon this came his disciples and they mar¬
veled that he was speaking with the woman;
yet no man said, What seekest thou? or, Why
speakest thou with her? So the woman left
her water-pot, and went away into the city,
and saith to the people, “Come, see a man, who
told me all things that ever I did: can this be
the Christ?”

How is Jesus regarding this conversation
with the woman? His disciples urge him to
eat, for the journey has been long and trying.
But he saith unto them, “I have meat to eat
that ye know not.”

The disciples are standing together in

152

The Silent Nazarene

couples with their heads together quietly dis¬
cussing the matter, saying, “Hath any man
brought him aught to eat?” Has Simon Peter
offered him bread and invited him to eat in
behalf of the other disciples who were mar¬
veling at the strange conduct of the Teacher?
But Simon is not to be lightly refused. He
must prevail upon the Teacher till the Mas¬
ter must explain that he has meat to suf¬
fice already. Simon is silenced and the dis¬
ciples are perplexed beyond measure. The
Master answers their perplexities, saying:

“My meat is to do the will of him that sent
me, and to accomplish his work. Say not ye,
There are yet four months, and then cometh
the harvest? behold, I say unto you, lift up
your eyes and look on the fields, that they are
white already unto harvest. He that reapeth
receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto eter¬
nal life; that he that soweth and he that reap¬
eth may rejoice together. For herein is the
saying true, One soweth, and another reapeth.
I sent you to reap that whereon ye have not
labored: others have labored, and ye are en¬
tered into their labor.”

As he caused the woman to find her soul by
referring to the well of water from which she
had come to draw, so he was helping the dis-

Hozv He Found Faith in the Earth 153

ciples to find the soul of their work from the
loaf of bread they had offered him to eat.

Thereupon the Samaritans came out of the -
city and besought him to abide with them, and
he abode there two days. This is the voice of
the many who believed as they addressed the
woman, saying,

“Now we believe, not because of thy speak¬
ing : for we have heard for ourselves, and know
that this is indeed the Saviour of the world.”

Is Simon Peter whispering into the ear of
Andrew, saying, “This is the last place in the
world one would expect to hear anything like
this, is it not?”

“Verily it is so, Simon, and there are no
Pharisees to hear it either,” suggests Andrew.

“Well, I don’t quite understand the Master
these last few days,” gasped Simon.

Were they standing too near that woman
who was puzzled over the fact of the invasion
of the privacy of her life? ,

“Men, why question ye concerning this
Teacher? He told me all that I ever did.
When I asked for that living water, he told
me that the worship of God depends alone
upon a true heart; yea, that God and immor¬
tality of the spirit are inseparable—out of the
true heart a well of water springeth up unto

154

The Silent Nazarene

life eternal because God is a Spirit.”

The golden thread running through the
dialogue of the Teacher with this lone Samar¬
itan woman as well as that with the disciples
upon their arrival from the city at the well is
that the whole purpose of God consists of life.
His works are eternal because He himself is
eternal. As we are sharers in his work with
reference to his eternal purpose and plan, we
are partakers with him of eternal life. To do
His will and achieve with him is to become
like him—sharing his nature and life. He
who said, “My meat is to do the will of Him
that sent me, and to accomplish his work,”
said this also, “I and my Father are one,” and
the same authority declared, saying, “For
whosoever shall do the will of my Father who
is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and
mother.” His kinsman are they who achieve
with him in the eternal purpose and plan of
the Father. Why? “I am the vine, ye are the
branches: He that abideth in me, and I in
him, the same beareth much fruit.” Then
how natural is his earnest prayer to the Father,
“That they may all be one; even as thou,
Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also
may be in us.”

How He Found Faith in the Earth 155

“Whosoever drinketh of the water that I
shall give him shall never thirst; but the water
that I shall give him shall become in him a
well of water springing up unto eternal life.”
Another way of saying that the activities and
processes of life shall not be arrested at the
grave, but rather the limitations being thrown
off shall achieve in the unbounded freedom of
the Father.

The Sinful Woman Forgiven

If we have no direct evidence that Nicode-
mus became an out and out disciple of the
great Teacher, and have no direct language
from the Samaritan woman that she ever re¬
ceived the living water, we have without read¬
ing between the lines the example of a woman
who was a sinner experiencing the forgive¬
ness of sins. Here is the master miracle per¬
formed and yet men regard it so little. It
takes men so very long to find out that achieve¬
ment in the excellence of character is the chief
end and goal of life. This grand product is
drawn out of the promiscuous mixture of life
in its alloy by the magic power of love. Men
are constantly mistaking the alloy for the gen¬
uine currency and consequently love is smoth-

156 The Silent Nazarene

ered out by what is cheap and gross. Jesus
has made the line distinct so that there need
be no mistake provided one wishes to find out
what is enduring that undue importance be
not attached to that which is passing. The
greed of the Rich Fool covers him with confu¬
sion and death—“So is he that layeth up treas¬
ure for himself, and is not rich toward God.”

Loving service is the radiant glow of eter¬
nal life while self-indulgence and greed dark¬
ens in the sombre gray of death. The acts
and teachings of Jesus were golden shafts of
the light of eternal life. In Him love bursts
forth into life everlasting. It is a well-spring
producing eternal life in others, and others in
turn are the lovers to renew the life in the
soul that loves, and so it is ever perpetually re¬
newing itself in vigor, energy, and fullness in
the completion of life—eternity is needed for
the maturing of the fruitage of love. It is
completed unselfishness that loses and finds
itself in the abundant life.

Personal immortality is the highest idea of
unselfishness—we would live forever that we
might live for others, that life might have its
full fruitage. Blessed are those who “love
much.” Is this not the heart of God? “God
so loved the world that he gave his only be-

How He Found Faith in the Earth 157

gotten Son.” Because He loved God lost
himself. His loving life rescued the prey out
of the jaws of death and in its glow “brought
life and immortality to light.” So the acts and
teachings of Jesus can be explained in no other
way than love working out eternal life.

Did I hear a citizen of Capernaum say,
“Who can but love the prophet of Nazareth?
Why, he’s doing good and helping men every¬
where.”

“Yes,” exclaims a Pharisee, “he’s a likely
person but then he is not careful enough how
he goes around with sinners.”

Now Simon the Pharisee steps up, and with
an intensive gesture says, “That’s all very true
-—he’s not careful how he touches sinners, but
I like him.”

Well, Jesus gets an invitation to the home of
Simon the Pharisee, and as they are sitting at
meat a woman of the city, who is a sinner,
comes in and standing behind at his feet,
weeping, began to wet his feet with her tears,
and wipe them with the hairs of her head, and
she kissed his feet, and she broke over them
the alabaster cruse of ointment which she
had brought with her and anointed them.

A dark frown broods over the brow of

i 5 8

The Silent Nazarene

Simon as he looks upon this thing. He is say¬
ing within himself, “This man, if he were a
prophet, would have perceived who and what
manner of woman this is that toucheth him,
that she is a sinner.”

Was Simon not aware of the conduct of the
Teacher before he bade him to his house, to
share the hospitality of his board? Or has he
felt his hospitality outraged by the conduct of
the Teacher as he sat at his table? Even the
feelings at times suppress and hide and strive
to conceal the real motives mid the shadows of
subtle pretensions of generosity.

But Jesus, answering these dark question¬
ings going forward within the soul of Simon,
said unto him, “Simon, I have somewhat to
say unto thee.”

Now Simon is at the supreme effort of sub¬
tle devising to conceal—he is at the end of
his string. He must make it appear that noth¬
ing extraordinary has taken place within him¬
self, and that he is ready to learn in eagerness
what the Teacher has to say. He requests
him to proceed.

“Teacher, say on.”

“A certain man had two debtors: the one
owed him five hundred shillings, and the other
fifty. When they had not wherewith to pay,

How He Found Faith in the Earth 159

he forgave them both. Which of them there¬
fore will love him most?”

Simon is now creeping within himself, but
there is but one respectable thing to do and
that is to answer him—and to answer him
properly as common sense would instruct.
Yet he is a trifle reluctant after he had begun
to make answer.

“He, I suppose to whom he forgave most.”

The Teacher is full of self-possession and
his is the opportunity to drive home the truth.
He will rip off the bark that the palpitating
heart of the Pharisee might be laid bare and
exposed. Fixing the searching eye intently
upon the eye of Simon he said, “Thou hast
rightly judged.”

Turning to the woman the great Teacher
said unto the Pharisee—

“Here is the application of the parable.
Seest thou this woman? I entered into thy
house, thou gavest me no water for my feet:
but she has wetted my feet with her tears, and
wiped them with her hair. Thou gavest me
no kiss: but she, since the time I came in, hath
not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil
thou didst not anoint: but she hath anointed
my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say
unto thee, Her sins which are many, are for-

i6o The Silent Nazarene

given; for she loved much: but to whom little
is forgiven, the same loveth little.”

He is turning his eye from Simon as he is
uttering this last phrase in which he points
out Simon as the other debtor that loves little.
In his rebuke he is saying to the Pharisee,
Thy frown bars thee ever from sharing the
blessedness this woman shares this day.

Now his concern is the woman as he looks
with deep compassion upon her, saying, “Thy
sins are forgiven.”

This is but to intensify the feelings of dis¬
approval that is rankling in the hearts of those
who sat at meat. Hard knots are filling the
throats and they are beginning to say within
themselves, ‘‘How far will this man go?”
“Who is this that even forgiveth sins?”

But the hands of Jesus are lifted in bene¬
diction as he is saying unto the despised wo¬
man, “Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.”

He performed no physical miracle of heal¬
ing upon this woman, and this woman had not
come for such. Jesus tells us why she came
and anointed his feet, “For she loved much.”
She loved the good and pure, but how prone
she was to do the evil. She was chained about,
helpless. She would do better but evil was
present with her and so powerful. She saw

How He Found Faith in the Earth 161

how wonderful kind and good this prophet
was. She was convinced that he could lift
her burden, relieve her of sin and strengthen
her to begin life all anew. She could not tell
him what was wrong in her life and how much
she loved the good and the pure, and how she
longed for his help and assistance. She can
do better than telling—she can act it all out.
So it comes to pass as has been related simply
because love burns through the dross of sin,
unites the heart with God, and buds into
life eternal. We hear the Master say, “Thy
faith hath saved thee; go in peace.”

IV

HOW HE ENTERED THE SHADOW

OF THE CROSS

THE BREAK WITH THE PHARISEES

P HARISEE, why cast an eye of suspicion
upon the work and life of the Nazarene?
Do you regard it as not genuine that you con¬
stantly impute to him perverted, dark motives
as prompting all his gracious works? You
say this Man works through the Prince of
devils—Beelzebub. You say he is not of God
or he would not dare work on the Sabbath.
What gracious act of loving service can pro¬
fane the Sabbath? You violently charge him
with blasphemy because he declares his right
to so work, “My Father worketh hitherto and
I work.” The Lord has put the matter up to
you, “Ye hypocrites, doth not each one of you
on the Sabbath loose his ox or his ass from
the stall, and lead him away to watering?
And ought not this woman, being a daughter
of Abraham, whom Satan had bound, lo, these
eighteen years, to have been loosed from this
bond on the day of the Sabbath?” The sub¬
lime truth, “The Sabbath was made for man
and not man for the Sabbath.” The Christ

165

166

The Silent Nazarene

made this truth living and concrete in his life
so that all might see it and profit by it. “The
Son of man is lord even of the Sabbath.”
Pharisee, why charge this Man with profan¬
ing the Sabbath who finds it at the very root
of human need? You strain your treacherous
eye to entrap him. Can you find anything
save your own dark charges? Is not the mul¬
titude seeking him even in desert places? The
people would make him king. They are de¬
serting you on every side. Strict religious
formalists—slaves of a hopelessly compli¬
cated tradition, you know that this man is at
the heart of life and you are losing ground day
by day. You see him among the urgent needs
of men. How these needs cry out to him?
H ow busy he is ministering! He is sought
on every side. Ah, your mad jealousy is ris¬
ing as you see these things. You question
among yourselves how you can make away
with him. Hear the warning the Master
gives concerning you:

“Do not ye after their works; for they say,
and do not. For they bind heavy burdens and
grievous to be borne, and they lay them on
men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not
move them with one of their fingers.” The
great Teacher has placed the charge at your

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 167

door. This is why men forsake you and seek
His new teaching of authority. Yours is arti¬
ficial ground while His is truth—the ground in
which life has sent down and fixed its roots.
You have nothing to wage your warfare with
save treachery and jealousy. So you say
there are dark motives at the seat of all this
grand achievement of this humble man. So
you plot underhand, secret, and devilish
methods for seizing him and making way with
him. Brazen boldness! crush rather than let
the superior live. The Master warns against
your secret leaven which gathers all the filth
and dregs from hidden, dark, poisonous,
deadly sources—“Take heed and beware of
the leaven of the Pharisees.” Your sin stalks
into his most sacred and forbidden courts.
You have your religion on parade and your
aim is to impress the people with the spectacu¬
lar and show them how much better you are
than they. “Woe unto you scribes and Phari¬
sees, hypocrites! for ye devour widows’ houses
and for a pretence make long prayers: there¬
fore ye shall receive greater damnation.” You
despise the publican, and shun with horror
and revolting disdain the wretched harlot.
Hear the Man of Nazareth speak: “Verily I
say unto you, that the publicans and the har-

168

The Silent Nazarene

lots go into the Kingdom of God before you.”
You do your works to be seen of men—make
broad your phylacteries; love the uppermost
rooms at the feasts and chiefest seats in the
synagogues; love to be greeted in the market¬
places and be called by all men “Rabbi, Rabbi;
yes, your very prayers are made to be seen of
men, for you stand in the conspicuous places
of the market and even thank God in a very
distinct voice that you are not like other men.

Reserve must give when tension is too great
and the time has fully come. Terrible facts
must stare mortals in the face with all their
ghastliness. Scathing condemnation and bit¬
ing rebuke from the lips of the Nazarene who
everywhere spoke loving words of hope and
good cheer. “Woe unto you, scribes and
Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye cleanse the out¬
side of the cup and of the platter, but within
they are full from extortion and excess.” He
dares repeat the charge—“Woe unto you,
Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are
like unto whited sepulchres, which outwardly
appear beautiful, but inwardly are full of dead
men’s bones, and all uncleanness. Even so ye
also appear righteous unto men, but inwardly
ye are full of hypocrisy and iniquity.” And
this also, “Ye serpents, ye offspring of vipers,

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 169
how shall ye escape the judgment of hell.”

The Great Confession

Jesus goes up and down the land faithfully
teaching and living the love of God. His
pathway glows with service. The people
come to him from every quarter. The multi¬
tudes throng him daily. They attempt to
make him their king. He hides himself from
their greed and perverted desires.

But the Pharisees are acting out an entirely
different drama They are moved against him
with ceremonial prejudice because he permits
his disciples to eat with “unwashen hands,”
with religious bigotry and pride because “He
is the friend of publicans and sinners,” with
jealousy and envy because “all men hang on
him listening.” Therefore they seek to kill
him. They are planning that they might take
him secretly because they fear the people. He
goes up out of the borders of Israel into the
parts of Caesarea Philippi.

Here in this alien region he asks his disci¬
ples, saying, “Who do men say I am?” After
listening to several opinions the disciples had
caught from the people he asked them, “But
who say ye that I am?” Peter is now the

170 The Silent Nazarene

spokesman. “Thou art the Christ.” Jesus
answered and said unto him, “Blessed art
thou, Simon Bar-Jonah: for flesh and blood
hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father
who is in heaven.”

“From that time began Jesus to show unto
his disciples that he must go unto Jerusalem,
and suffer many things of the elders and chief
priests and scribes, and be killed.” The rec¬
ords state, “He spake the saying openly.” It
is as though he said:

“My disciples, you share the popular no¬
tion of making me a king. Have I lived so
long a time with you serving the lone worsted
outcasts in the by-ways and hedges and yet
you share with the people the gross perverted
ideas. All who follow in the paths in which
I am serving men shall bear the image of
kings. I am carrying out that image day by
day. I am establishing the kingdom in your
midst. You call it losing but in this seeming
defeat I am achieving nobler and grander than
ever earth has witnessed. “The Son of man
must suffer many things, and be rejected of
the elders and the chief priests, and be killed,
and after three days rise again.”

Peter at once begins to rebuke him, saying,
“Be it far from thee, Lord: this .shall never be

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 171

done unto thee.” Jesus had vanquished this
same Tempter before in the Wilderness of
Temptation. How subtle the cunning—he
comes in the garb of a disciple seeking to be¬
friend his Master. But Jesus knows the sub¬
tle Tempter and strips him of all his guile.
He turns and says unto Peter, “Get thee be¬
hind me, Satan: thou art a stumbling-block
unto me; for thou mindest not the things of
God, but the things of men.” It is as though
he said:

“Must I too follow the multitudes down the
broad way of death? Or should as many as
it is given follow me into the narrow way of
life through the straight gate? Be it far from
me to go the way of ease. I am drinking the
bitter cup and I must drain it to the bitter
dregs. This is the way of God. This is ful¬
filling his purpose, hence my mission, “My
meat is to do the will of Him that sent me, and
to finish his work.”

Thus Jesus enters the shadow of the cross
and the disciples follow him, though they un¬
derstood him not, as he faces about to go to
Jerusalem from Caesarea Philippi. Jesus is
undisturbed, but the chosen few are full of
dark apprehensions. They are as helpless
fledglings. They hear the flutter of wings

172

The Silent Nazarene

mid the darkness, but they can not tell whether
they be the wings of mother bird or of some
alien bird of prey. They stay close to the
Master as these dark shadows of growing ap¬
prehensions are falling all about them. He
takes three of them to the mountain that they
might get a glimpse of the likeness of his resur¬
rection.

The Transfiguration

After six days Jesus taketh Peter, James and
John, and bringeth them into a high moun¬
tain apart. Yes, he takes the chosen three
with him apart from the rest even of the disci¬
ples. He had been wont to frequent the
mountain retreat alone for prayer but this
time he wished to have the select three with
him. As he prays his face shines as the sun,
and his garments become white as the light.
“And behold, there appeared unto them
Moses and Elijah talking with him.” The
disciples are filled with the ecstasy of joy. In
the thrill of their ecstatic condition Peter be¬
comes the spokesman, saying, “Lord, it is good
for us to be here!” As one beside himself be¬
cause of the exuberance of joy he suggested,
“If thou wilt, I will make here three taber-

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 173

nacles; one for thee, one for Moses, and one
for Elijah.” Luke says: “Now, Peter and
they that were with him were heavy with
sleep: but when they were fully awake, they
saw his glory, and the two men that stood with
him.” Overawed by the marvelous vision
Peter made the suggestion of the three taber¬
nacles, “not knowing what he said.” But
even as Peter is speaking the heavenly visitors
are parting from the Man of Nazareth. And
ere that disciple had made an end of speaking,
“There came a cloud and overshadowed them:
and they feared as they entered into the cloud.
And a voice came out of the cloud, saying,
“This is my Son, my chosen: hear ye Him.”
The disciples fall on their faces, and are sore
afraid. Jesus comes and touches them, say¬
ing, “Arise, and be not afraid.” Lifting up
their eyes they saw no one save the lone Man
of Nazareth whom they had seen so often com¬
ing from his mountain retreat of prayer and
entering the thronging multitudes to teach.
But they will never forget the vision which
this Man of Nazareth permitted them to be¬
hold of him as he was in prayer. He did con¬
stantly behold the heavenly but “their eyes
were holden.”

The disciples got a glimpse of the inner life

174 The Silent Nazarene

of Jesus, and it is this that caused his path to
glow radiant with service. A glimpse of the
pure white Christ and a glimpse of his way
is exceeding strange to earthly eyes. The
heavenly coincides with the highest good that
abounds in earth. His way is heavenward
and homeward—the way of the highest good.
So as he comes down from the mountain Jesus
commanded them, saying, “Tell the vision to
no man, until the Son of man be risen from
the dead. The disciples were confused and
perplexed, “And they kept the saying, ques¬
tioning among themselves what the rising
again from the dead should mean.” To con¬
ceal their perplexity they would ask him about
the coming of Elijah, for somehow they be¬
lieved that his reference to the “rising from
the dead” had to do with the completion of
his work as Messiah. Death is suggestive of
suffering preceding. He told them all about
that before he caused them to see this vision.
Now after this vision he is telling them that
the Son of man must rise from the dead. They
must hold the secret till then. They must
have some recourse, for Peter was rebuked
when he undertook to assure him that no suf¬
fering could overtake him like unto that which
he referred to while at Caesarea Philippi. So

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 175

they suggest, “How is it that the scribes say
that Elijah must first come?” With but few
words he convinces them that Elijah indeed
has come in the person of John the Baptist.
But now they are come to the multitude and
here things are different.

The Epileptic

From the silence of the mountain of this
heavenly vision they move down into the val¬
ley at the foot of the mountain into the noise
and the tumult of an excited multitude. There
comes a man to him, kneeling before him, say¬
ing, “Lord, have mercy on my son: for he is
an epileptic, and suffereth grievously; for oft-
times he falleth into the fire and oft-times into
the water.” The epileptic is frothing and
foaming before the disciples who remained at
the foot of the mountain. These disciples are
at their wits’ end as they have tried every way
to relieve the suffering epileptic. The father
has looked with great anxiety which turns to
suspicion as their efforts prove vain and of no
effect. Now that father is pleading with the
Master, saying, “I brought him to thy disci¬
ples, and they could not cure him.” The
Master is prompt to answer this heart cry—

176

The Silent Nazarene

“Bring hither thy son.” As he is coming the
demon dashed him down and tare him griev¬
ously. As he fell on the ground and wal¬
lowed foaming even Jesus seemed perplexed,
and asked his father, “How long time is it
since this hath come unto him?” as though the
duration of the sickness would limit the power
even of Jesus. The distracted father, believ¬
ing himself up against it here at the last resort,
declares, “From a child.” He then describes
anew the terrible condition of his boy and ends
by saying, “But if thou canst do anything, have
compassion on us, and help us.” There is a
grave look on the face of the Master as he
gazes into the face of that father, saying, “ Tf
thou canst!’—even this kind fills the tombs of
the earth. Heaven knows no such. ‘All
things are possible to him that believeth.’ ”
The distracted father braces up under the
stinging rebuke so gently turned back upon
him by this man who had been in prayer in the
mountain, and cries out of the stress of his soul,
“I believe, help thou mine unbelief.” The
Master, seeing the multitude running to¬
gether, rebuked the unclean spirit, saying unto
him, “Thou dumb and deaf spirit, I command
thee, come out of him, and enter no more into
him.” And having cried out, and torn him

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 177

much, he came out: and the boy became as
dead.” The multitudes are always ready with
an opinion. Most of them shout aloud—“He
is dead.” But Jesus took him by the hand,
and raised him up, and gave him back to his
father. “And they were all astonished at the
majesty of God.”

Now the baffled disciples who had re¬
mained at the foot of the mountain came to
Jesus apart, and said, “Why could we not cast
it out?” And he said unto them, “This kind
can come out by nothing, save by prayer.”

?r-

The Entrance of the King

As morning dews upon the tender blade so
are the prayers of Christ upon the soul. In
silence they collect. Have you touched the
blade mid the fevered heat of day? It is ten¬
der, yes, very much so. Yet it has not the
sparkle of dew upon it. The sun is lowering;
the twilight is gathering; the light is fading
mid myriads of glimmerings; the darkness is
falling all about. Touch the blade, and it
has the gentle moisture of the dews upon it.
Even in the pale light of the moon the grass
is greening mid freshness of dews. Were it
not for the night where would we find the gen-

178 The Silent Nazarene

tie dews that sparkle beneath the radiance of
the morning sun, and wear a freshness in the
tender life till close of day when dews again
freshen the larger forms in which life has
shaped in spreading growth?

How often in silence did Christ wait and
gather the sweetness of heaven to his soul. The
gentle dew-drops of refreshing hope and love
came about his life we know not where and
how. Yes, he stood forth as a living witness
of the freshness of this power day by day.
But at no time were they sweeter than when
his earthly sun began to creep slowly down
upon the horizon, and when the twilight of
that great earthly life was gathering fast, yes,
when the light of popular flattery and favor
were fading even from the common people,
when the darkness of the cross and Calvary
and, the grave was heavily vailing all—ah,
then the dews were gathering, the immaculate,
the consummate sweetness of that great rich
life in one tenderness of love and meekness;
yes, suffering showed the goodliest vein of all,
and death could not eclipse that life but only
made it possible for the gentle and refresh¬
ing sparkle beneath the radiance of the heav¬
enly sun of the resurrection morning. Where
have richer dews collected? What has ex-

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 179

celled the hope in the resurrected Christ and
forever the living Redeemer? Ah, is the
blade withered? See how the dews unfold it.
Is the heart sunken and destitute? See how
the resurrected and living Christ can make it
alive, rejuvenescent in an expanding hope.

Again were it not for the night how could
we have such splendid dews collecting? Even
in such nights mid the darkness brothers have
plunged their swords to the very hilts into the
breasts of their very best friends—even those
who meant them nothing but well. Did they
not so with Christ, the ablest and best friend
man ever had? Yet of these same nights came
the pure dews of sacred love. Here the very
bosom of the Father is uncovered and unre¬
strained love leaps forth to wrest the bloody
knife from the hands of cruel men—even the
knife they are plunging each into the heart of
his fellow; yes, this very knife God in Christ
directs into his own heart and pours out his
blood in profusion as a testimony unto them
—even as a witness that mad man would
plunge the gory knife into the breast of his
very best friend in the blackest night of his
insane, unwarrantable passion.

The life of Christ passed through the nooks
of silence, the only way Heaven has to

180 The Silent Nazarene

speak. Such alone is consistent with Heaven’s
nature. Did not the Still Small Voice so
whisper in the soul? Did not that voice echo
in the same consistency the revelation of the
great God that spoke through all the nooks
of human experience till Christ himself came
to speak of it with authority? Not by lifting
it out of this relation but by placing it more
truly in its natural relation, and interpreting
it more plainly there. In other words he
showed men how God meant them to live.
Everything material must subserve this pur¬
pose. Christ quietly lived this before men;
yes, he lived it as he knew it from God. In
life he finds its setting. In life he makes it
speak. The life of man and God he made to
blend. Then how plainly the voice of God is
brought to man. Man hears it for himself.
It is the Father’s voice to the children making
it clear to them that they belong to him in
the higher order and therefore should not be
slaves to the lower order; that is, he is down
with and among them to show them the way
out—and not merely to show them, but to lead
them—to go with them the whole distance—
and further not merely to lead them but to
deliver them—to lift them up into his bosom
where they might breathe and live in him.

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 181
He saves them.

This is what Jesus lived and taught each
day in spite of the people misinterpreting
him. His life was spent each day seemingly
lost in misinterpretation, and even willful mis¬
representation. The dews collect at night¬
fall as Christ gathers in prayer within the
silent covering of the darkness the reinvigorat¬
ing power for the duties and trials of the en¬
suing day. He knows that he is right and the
clamoring multitudes are erring and deceived.
They would make him king by force.

The disciples found a colt tied at the door
without in the open street; and they loose him,
and bring him to Jesus, and cast upon him
their garments; and he sat upon him. Meek
and lowly this king of the hearts of men rides
upon an ass. A great multitude that had come
to the feast, when they heard that Jesus was
coming to Jerusalem, took the branches of the
palm trees and went forth to meet him. And
most part of the multitude spread their gar¬
ments in the way; and others cut branches
from the trees and spread them in the way.
And they that went before and they that fol¬
lowed, cried, “Hosanna; Blessed is he that
cometh in the name of the Lord: Blessed is
the kingdom that cometh, the kingdom of our

182

The Silent Nazarene

father David: Hosanna in the highest.” Even
the whole multitude of the disciples began to
rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for
all the mighty works which they had seen;
saying, “Blessed is the king that cometh in the
name of the Lord: peace in heaven and glory
in the highest.” The Pharisees rave within
themselves and some of them from out the
multitude call unto him, “Teacher, rebuke
thy disciples.” But the Master holds the key
of power. He will answer his enemies
directly. “I tell you that, if these should hold
their peace, the stones will cry out.” It is as
though he said— “Things are right where cre¬
ation must speak. If its creatures and spokes¬
men do not testify to the truth, the very stones
will cry out. Your mad jealousy can not stop
this voice. You can not provoke them to si¬
lence longer. They must cry out even though
they understand not what they cry. They in¬
deed hail me as king coming into my capitol
to exalt this nation above the ends of the earth
that this people might have the glory of
swaying the sceptre over men—that men
might bend their necks beneath their yoke.”

As the multitude and the disciples were un¬
stinting in their praise the heart of this great
king was sad—even mellow with pity and

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 183

compassion as he drew nigh the city and wept
over it, saying, “If thou hadst known in this
day, even thou, the things which belong unto
thy peace! but now they are hid from thine
eyes. For the days shall come upon thee,
when thine enemies shall cast up a bank about
thee, and compass thee round and keep thee
in on every side, and shall dash thee to the
ground, and thy children within thee; and
they shall not leave in thee one stone upon
another; because thou knowest not the time of
thy visitation.”

The Great Consolation

The eve of the passover is come. The lit¬
tle group is gathered in the upper chamber.
They saw that unusual sorrow marked the
brow of the Master. The Master sees their
hearts overstrained with anxiety. They were
looking for things in an entirely different di¬
rection in spite of his teaching and life which
had been wholly consistent. His conduct
and actions are exceedingly strange to them.
He, conscious of his oneness with God, lay
aside his outer garment, girds himself with a
towel and begins to wash his disciples’ feet.
Peter’s protest is vehement, and can you won-

184

The Silent Nazarene

der. Why John the Baptist declared that he
himself was unworthy to stoop down and un¬
latch this man’s shoes. Now this very man is
washing the disciple’s feet. He did this not
to raise a sensation in his favor. He knew that
he had all authority in heaven and on earth.
Why then should he need a sensation? Then
why perform this lowly service—even the
work of a slave?

The peerless Master will speak for himself.
“You call me Master and Lord: and you say
well; for so I am. If I, then, your Lord and
Master, have washed your feet; you ought to
wash one another’s feet. Have I ever strained
an effort to impress you with my importance?
Have I ever assumed any strained relation to
impress you with my lordly dignity? Have
I ever cut myself off from you to cast a strange,
bewildering, mystic cloud about you? Are
these ideas not dominating the earth, men
striving to lord it over their fellows? Royalty
has used them to domineer and enslave the
subjects; religious impostors have used them
to wing their fame. “But I am among you
as he that serveth.” I and my Father are one.
He showeth me all things that He himself
doeth. Therefore I always do what things I
have seen him do. You have seen me wash

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 185

your feet. I see the Holy Spirit of the Father
doing as humble service in the midst of this
broken humanity. I am his Son. It is my
joy to do his work; yes, it is my meat to do
the will of Him that sent me, and to finish his
work. You know him as your God. You
reverence and worship him. Lo, He is in
your midst as he that serveth.” The words
that he spake were so different from those
they were accustomed to hear from the lips of
the scribes of the Pharisees, their teachers,
that they sounded strange in their ears. The
Master understood it all and set about to com¬
fort their hearts, saying,

“I see your hearts are troubled. You can
not understand me. You have fixed your
mind too steadily upon my mortal body. You
have been willing to concentrate and stake
your all upon this visible manifestation. That
is the reason you can not understand the way,
Thomas. And for the very same reason you
can not see the Father, Philip. Yes, you do
not see Me. I would make this truth plain to
you, but sorrow hath filled your hearts. You
are sadly disappointed. You are at the brink
of believing all is lost. The very fact that
my body is here, that I am in the flesh, would
help you understand if you would lift up your

186

The Silent Nazarene

eyes and see Me. Indeed my body must be
broken and taken away that you may under¬
stand. Then the Comforter which you can
not see now will bring all things to your re¬
membrance. ‘He will teach you all things.’
He dwelleth with you even in your midst at
this present hour. Your minds must be lifted
out of the earthly by removing the earthly,
even my mortal form. When this is come to
pass you will see the great Spirit of God min¬
istering in lowly service even as you have seen
me do in the body. This Teacher and Guide
will never leave you but will educate you into
life eternal. Those born of God know not
how—but they know that they have passed
from death unto life.

“Surely I have lived, acted, and told you
that such is the nature of God. I simply ask
you if you would be my disciples to learn of
me and go and do likewise. All this I have
spoken about has no artificial undergirding.
It is no make-believe fountain head. By gen¬
uinely loving one another is the only way to
find the seat of life—the pure spring out of
which gushes the infinite love of God which is
eternal life. If you love me, keep my com¬
mandments. They will do you good. They
will bring you into life.

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 187

“Now you are troubled, perplexed and
overstrained. If you obey my voice and do
as I have done then it will be well with you.
For I go to prepare a place for you—even a
place in my Father’s house, yes, among the
mansions of my Father. I will come again
and receive you unto myself that where I am
there you may be also. But make good the
time left you. Know that you are perfectly
safe and secure in God, and that you shall so
be in eternity, only you shall then better know
it, and all life shall be given in larger meas¬
ures. Grow as though the evil about you were
not, for it shall not come nigh you, for you
have put your trust in me. No harm shall
befall you, for the Lord shall be your secret
pavilion and dwelling-place forever. He
shall hide you beneath His wings, and shall
keep you secure, though troublers are many
on every side. He will feed you with his own
life. He has sent me to tell you just such
things as these. Let not your heart be trou¬
bled, neither let it be afraid.

“You are just on the brink of eternity. If
your eyes could see you would be surprised to
know how near your Father’s house you are.
You think you are far away. This is a delu¬
sion, a deception. How many sons returning

18 8

The Silent Nazarene

home mid midnight darkness have been be¬
wildered, lost, even at the father’s door. If
they could see, their confusion would not be
at all. Now you can not see. You are dis¬
turbed, confused. Yet you believe in me.
You have reposed confidence in me even up to
this hour. I tell you the truth. You are very
near the Father’s house where there are many
mansions. You must lay aside your mortal
body just as I laid aside my garment at the
supper to wash your feet, and ye are there.
Even now in this life you must regard the
body as dead, as a garment laid aside, that the
spiritual activities may have greater freedom
to achieve, and that you may lose yourselves
in lowly paths of service. Herein is my Fa¬
ther glorified that you bear much fruit. The
glory of my Father is exceedingly bright in
the mansions above. His glory there differs
in no way from his glory here—that you bear
much fruit—except in larger measures. When
you have laid aside the mortal all these things
will be plain. Where I am there you will be
also. Have faith in God and see.”

The Passover

Fast falls the eventide, the darkness deep-

i

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 189

ens, and Christ is with his little flock in the
upper chamber. It is a lingering of the great
soul of Christ over the few anxious, suspect¬
ing souls who had their all wrapt up in him.
They knew their Master held the secret but
were confused as to the meaning he wished to
convey to them. His words seem plain but
they were not so to them before all that terrible
suffering and death. They were entering the
dark heavy cloud that was, to shroud all in the
black night of disappointment. Christ saw
this anxiety resting upon them and their hearts
in great uneasiness. It is like when the storm
is brewing and the beasts of the field huddle
and tremble with fear. A mournful unquiet¬
ness pervades everything. In the impending
storm we get a glimpse of what Jesus saw and
knew even while the spiritual darkness preg¬
nant with apprehension falls about the dis¬
quieted disciples, threatening to separate them
sharply from their Master. Wells of sym¬
pathy opened in his great soul, and irresistable
streams went forth charged with love and af¬
fection and emptied themselves into the
gloom-pressed hearts of the disappointed, per¬
plexed and sorrowing disciples. A solemn si¬
lence reigns. Jesus knows there is but one
way to save the situation—to inspire faith and

190

The Silent Nazarene

hope. The earthly undergirding truly must
be cut asunder. Rather the earthly scaffold¬
ing must be torn away, else all would stop with
the earthly, the visible—all would be swal¬
lowed up in mortality. He has come to recon¬
cile them to God, to make them one with the
Father even as he is one with the Father—to
make known to them that they are sons of
immortality.

He sought to make this all plain to them
that evening. But they had been cradled in
other ideas. They were accustomed to think
otherwise. It were as though all circum¬
stances were conspiring together, smiting
them with blindness so that they knew not
whither to turn. What if they could have
been unrobed of mortality that evening? But
God had another and better way, though they
could not hear their Lord. (Have not words
that were plain afterwards puzzled and be¬
wildered the best of us before an impending
calamity?) It was a steady growth through
mortality and a sure climb into immortality
where each step is fixed with a clearer and
larger vision. So the Master told them, say¬
ing,

“What I do thou knowest not now; but thou
shalt understand hereafter. Do not mistake

How He Entered the Shadow of the Cross 191

the primer for the final reader. Is it not but
the threshold to the world of knowledge?
The promise is ever—Thou shalt understand
hereafter.”

But now the hour is come, and he is sat
down with the disciples. He had sought
every available way to make it all plain to
them. As he looks upon the passover meal
spread before them there is a suggestion that
there remains a possible way of showing unto
them the great truth that is so baffling to them.
At this he said unto them, “With desire I have
desired to eat this passover with you before
I suffer: for I say unto you, I shall not eat it,
until it be fulfilled in the kingdom of God.”
How was he to eat and not eat the passover
with them at that hour? (Perplexing para¬
dox to disrobe the truth of words by words
that it might stand out naked and plain.)

So the Evangelist Luke writes: “And he
took bread, and when he had given thanks, he
brake it, and gave to them, saying, ‘This is my
body which is given for you: this do in re¬
membrance of me. And the cup in like man¬
ner after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new
covenant in my blood, even that which is
poured out for you.’ ”

So he spake on that side of the cross but

192

The Silent Nazarene

they understood him not. Even at this solemn
hour, after all the teaching and example,
“there arose also a contention among them,
which of them was accounted to be the great¬
est.” The Master speaks sadly rebuking,
warning and pleading, saying, “Simon, Simon,
behold, Satan asked to have you, that he might
sift you as wheat: but I made supplication for
thee that thy faith fail not; and do thou, when
once thou hast turned again, establish thy
brethren.”

All this came to pass before he entered
Gethsemane.

HOW HE TOOK UP HIS CROSS

GETHSEMANE

T HE Man of sorrows acquainted with bit¬
ter griefs is in the midst of the group of
perplexed disciples passing through the streets
of the city, which are muffled in the thick si¬
lence of midnight. They cross over the brook
Kidron, “where was a garden, into which he
entered himself and his discipes.” When he
comes unto a place that is called Gethsemane,
he saith unto his disciples, “Sit ye here, while
I go yonder and pray.”

The silence will not permit a leaf to rustle.
The very brook itself muffles its murmurs.
The wild beasts too seem to know it is time
to be quiet—there is not a howl or scream to
be heard. Creation could well afford to stop
its clamor and plunge itself in one deep silent
pause this awful hour—this blackest hour
when the fierce madness and fury of men born
of envy and jealousy is striving to crush the
stainless Man who is suffering with and for
man. Yet was not the mellow dawn born out
of the womb of the first great morning for

195

196

The Silent Nazarene

man? The hour is darkest just before the
breaking streaks of light stretch out of the
eastern sky and point to the position of the
mid-day sun. Has the grim darkness settled
upon man’s black night of misery and strug¬
gle? Is the foulest treachery of man to be
played upon the best friend man ever had?
What miserable contradictions in our night
of sombre madness?

H ow did Jesus see this? Let his conduct,
actions and prayers speak for him. What a
battle is on hand! How dare Creation
breathe! He taketh Peter, James and John
and went apart and began to be sorrowful and
sore troubled. These three disciples ought
best to understand him, for how oft did he
take them apart alone with him ere this? He
saith unto them, “My soul is exceeding sor¬
rowful, even unto death: abide ye here, and
watch with me.” He is parted from them a
stone’s cast. He kneels and prays, saying,
“Abba, Father, all things are possible unto
thee, if it be possible, let this cup pass away
from me!” Heaven and earth turn in breath¬
less silence to this garden—even to this spot
where the Man of sorrow is wrestling in an
agony as he prays more earnestly and his sweat
becomes as it were great drops of blood falling

How He Took Up His Cross 197

to the ground. An awful pause! Earth is
ascending; heaven is bending: wills are blend¬
ing—“Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou
wilt.” “And there appeared unto him an
angel from heaven strengthening him.” Re¬
demption is wrought; man is lifted into the
life of God without a stain. He has acquired
dominion in and over the earth. The will of
God is being done in earth as it is in heaven.
Things are shaped about in harmony with
the design of creation. This is the sinless
man, the peerless conqueror who lived sanely
in the earth, achieved and wrought even as the
Father willed.

He comes to the three who were to watch
with him and finds them sleeping for sorrow,
and he saith unto Peter, “What, could ye not
watch with me one hour?” They are in a
semi-conscious condition—a stupor bearing
down heavy upon them. He warns them,
saying, “Watch and pray, that ye enter not
into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing,
but the flesh is weak.” Again a second time
he goes and prays saying, “My Father, if this
cannot pass away, except I drink it, thy will
be done.” He came again and found his dis¬
ciples sleeping, “for their eyes were heavy.”
He left them and went away, and prayed a

198

The Silent Nazarene

third time using the same words again. His
single aim is—the will of the Father. All
else is subordinate. He comes unto the disci¬
ples and saith unto them, “Sleep on now, and
take your rest: behold the hour is at hand, and
the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of
sinners.”

His reserve had the strength of the lion
without its beastliness; and his entire spirit
had the meekness and gentleness of the lamb
without its dumbness. He stood at the centre
of power. This Man of Gethsemane’s dark
hour is the peerless champion of the race.
He is the lion of the tribe of Judah; and the
scepter shall never depart out of his hand:
he is the Lamb of God that taketh away the
sin of the world, and over him sin shall never
have dominion, as the holiness of his nature
shall utterly consume it before his face. He
draws his breath in the fear of the Lord and
the breath of his lips slay the wicked.

The heel of the traitor is on the sacred spot.
Jesus must arouse the disciples out of their
sorrowing stupor. “Arise, let us be going: be¬
hold, he is at hand that betrayeth me.”

i 9 9

How He Took Up His Cross

The Betrayal

The midnight darkness! Majestic sweet¬
ness rests upon the Saviour’s brow. He re¬
signs all into the Father’s hands—to be done
after God’s way regardless of the cost in¬
volved. His single aim is the will of God be
done. Carve it out of the rough facts of earth,
by giving his life to engrave the Father’s im¬
age and likeness therein. His meat was to
carry God’s will out to entire completion.
The dews of innocence gather upon the mild¬
ness and meekness of his spirit mid the silence.
He comes from prayer and calls to his disci¬
ples, saying, “Arise, let us be going: behold,
he is at hand that betrayeth me.” It is as
though he were saying, “Come, let us be going
lest he betray me even upon this most sacred
spot. He knows well where I pray.”

It is so. Judas is on the very spot Christ
counts most sacred and dear. He is at the
head of a band armed with swords and staves,
from the chief priests and elders of the people.
Mid the thick darkness he comes to Jesus, and
says, “Hail, Rabbi”; and kissed him. And
the Master says unto him, “Judas, betrayest
thou the Son of man with a kiss? Do that
for which thou art come.” At this the band

200

The Silent Nazarene

of soldiers, and officers from the chief priests
and the Pharisees, come with lanterns and
torches and weapons—even lining up before
him and his disciples. Jesus stands forth be¬
tween the disciples and the soldier band, say¬
ing, “Whom seek ye?” They answer him,
“Jesus of Nazareth.” Jesus says to them, “I
am he.” As he said it they went backward
and fell to the ground. Again, therefore, he
asks them, “Whom seek ye?” And they re¬
ply, “Jesus of Nazareth.” Jesus answers, “I
told you that I am he; if therefore ye seek me,
let these go their way: that the word might be
fulfilled which he spake, “Of those whom thou
hast given me I lost not one.”

Then they come and lay hands on Jesus, and
took him. When the soldiers were about to
lead him away they that were with him said.
“Lord, shall we smite with the sword?” Even
before the question was finished Simon Peter
having a sword, drew it, and struck the high
priest’s servant, and cut off his right ear.
Jesus answers and says, “Suffer ye them thus
far. Put up again thy sword into its place:
for all they that take the sword shall perish
with the sword.” Then touching the ear
heals the high priest’s servant, and turning and
looking upon Peter says, “Thinkest thou that

How He Took Up His Cross 201

I cannot beseech my Father, and he shall even
now send me more than twelve legions of an¬
gels?” Then as though he would make plain
to the disciple who was so ready to defend
him by sheer force why he assumed this atti¬
tude so strange to humankind he says, “The
cup which the Father hath given me, shall I
not drink it? How then should the scripture
be fulfilled, that thus it must be?”

The disciples shrink back as the soldiers
gather more closely about him, and Jesus says
unto the chief priests, and captains of the tem¬
ple, and elders, that were come against him,
“Are ye come out as against a robber with
swords and staves to seize me? I sat daily in
the temple teaching, and ye took me not.”

What an hour! The thick darkness; the
traitor’s kiss; the armed soldiers taking a
.meek, unarmed man who meant nobody hurt
but who meant everybody well, and whose life
was made up of actions, deeds and words that
flowed rich with love and helpfulness to all
men.

There is a certain young man lying abed
a-dreaming. He hears a tumult in the street.
He rushes to the window to stare upon a whis¬
pering mob. Yes, they are coming from the
sacred garden where his Master is wont to

202

The Silent Nazarene

pray. He seizes a piece of linen cloth and
throws it about his naked body, and rushes out
into the night of the street. He follows the
sneaking crowd that seems to hunt the very
sides of the walls for the cover even of their
shadows in the dim light of the lanterns. He
follows but does not permit himself to be
seen. Foes, friends and the Christ—all there,
but the impulsive Peter follows afar off. The
young man with the linen cloth about his body
has not learned the caution of even the impul¬
sive Peter and loses track of himself in the ex¬
citement of the hour. He so completely for¬
gets himself that he edges his way into that
very mob. Some of the young men of the
crowd seeing that he is none of theirs lay hold
on his linen. This brings him to a sense of his
peril. He leaves the linen cloth in the hands
of the cruel men who were leading away his
Lord, and fled naked.

This band—the tool of the chief priests and
Pharisees with Judas at its head! Why staves
and weapons to capture Jesus of Nazareth, if
capture it could be called (it was rather a
taking) ? How it pierced through his true
and loving soul. “Are ye come out, as
against a robber, with swords and staves?
When I was daily with you in the temple, ye

How He Took Up His Cross 203

stretched not forth your hands against me:
but this is your hour, and the power of dark¬
ness.”

By his silence and reserve he proves his
kingship over their crass, daring might. He
rises majestic over the crude display of force.
He raves at nothing. He is free from the
the cramping grip of jealousy. He is envi¬
ous of no man’s prosperity and popularity.
All things were in his hand, and he was deeply
conscious of his power even when he placed
himself at the disposal of brute force and be¬
came a prey to the heartless jealousy of vicious
men. Brute force thrusts him on. Yet how
powerless is this receding physical force before
the persistent spreading love of Christ? Even
in that brief season of his passion, when all
seemed defeat, he proves himself supreme at
every turn.

Judas

What! a disciple of Christ to join a murder
band? Why should that dastardly band
choose one from the chosen few of the sacred
bosom of Christ to plunge the hidden dagger
of malignant treachery into his great soul?

“Judas, didst thou hate thy Lord? Was it
thy whole desire to see him murdered? Why,

204

The Silent Nazarene

cringing, sneak into his most sacred place for
prayer? and press thy deceitful lips upon his
cheek?”

He knew well the spot Christ counted most
sacred and dear—yes, he who betrayed him,
knew the place, for Jesus oft-times resorted
thither with his disciples—even there Judas
dares tread and betrays his Lord for thirty
pieces of silver. He who dipped his hand in
the dish with his Master and heard his Lord
say, “The Son of man goeth even as it is writ¬
ten of him: but woe unto that man through
whom the Son of man is betrayed! good were
it for that man if he had not been born,” now
in that dark solitary garden where Christ has
agonized till his sweat became as it were great
drops of blood falling to the ground, comes
stealthily to pierce his soul through with the
unkindest cut of all—the emblem of friend¬
ship—the kiss, but “a traitor’s kiss.” It cut
to the quick. How dare it be used in foul
mockery, irreverence and treachery? The
rebuke of the Master is mildly given as the
brazen traitor presses the deceitful kiss as
Jesus stands in his sacred place of prayer,
“Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a
kiss?” “Traitor, how durst thou use this em¬
blem of loving friendship in violation to ev-

How He Took Up His Cross 205

erything sacred—outraging honor? Indeed,
is there nothing too sacred to be trampled un¬
der foot?”

“Why wait! Expect him free and hold thy
blood money to boot? What queer inconsist¬
ency! How canst thou throw thy victim into
the jaws of the wild beasts and expect him to
escape? Were things ever done after this
fashion? Dost thou look to miraculous in¬
tervention to deliver him that thou mightest
enjoy thy blood money? Then God would
need intervene in behalf of mortals tricked for
gold at all times to ease the smarting remorse
of thieves. No, thy deed is done. The de¬
spair and anguish of thy soul, hot with raging
passion, must send forth shrieks and screams
like the bewildered, starving, solitary hyena.

See that traitor rage and tear; ah, he knows
not where to find relief. He is like a beast
that has himself full of deadly poison from
the pangs of which he can in nowise find re¬
lief. He must roar, rave and scream, then he
must lie quiet and let the piercing pains sting
him to the very death. So this man is at the
point of exasperation—with all brute pain and
all soul stress at a breaking tension.

“Judas, this is a full measure of interest to
pay for thy thirty pieces—yes, sin is not satis-

20 6

The Silent Nazarene

fied with the interest, but demands the princi¬
pal—all without reserve. Rush into the pres¬
ence of the chief priests and elders, with thy
thirty pieces of silver, crazed man. Thou
seest that thy victim is sure of death now.”

Hear that wretched creature ejaculate from
out the smarting remorse of his overwrought
and crushed soul. What dismal refuse is
smothering that soul? And yet in the last
death throes he must lift out the truth that
must stare all ages to come in the face—a bare¬
faced fact which no falsehood can cover: “I
have sinned in that I have betrayed innocent
blood.” Ah, what comfort and consolation
do they have to offer him? How do they an¬
swer him?

“Judas, didst thou think thyself a good fel¬
low with these men? Hast thou won their
favor and respect? Ah, they throw it all in
your teeth. ‘What is that to us? see thou to
it.’ Judas, thou findest neither respect nor
sympathy there. They have used thee and
that is all they want with thee. The blood
money is thine affair.”

But the maddened traitor would not have it
so. And he cast down the pieces of silver
into the sanctuary—even before the religious
murderers, and departs. Then, insane with

How He Took Up His Cross 207

hot despair and remorse, he rushes out and
hangs himself. From a tree over a steep place
falling headlong, he burst asunder in the
midst, and all his bowels gushed out.

The disposal of the thirty pieces of silver
he has put up to the religious murderers. The
chief priests take up the pieces of money, and
declare, “It is not lawful to put them into the
treasury, since it is the price of blood.”
Wretched, deluded mortals, how long will you
besmirch yourselves with gory sin, and then
strive to shift it from your heads by some triv¬
ial act? They take counsel, and buy with the
thirty pieces the potter’s field into which the
crushed and broken form of the traitor has
fallen, to bury strangers in, and there the
traitor was buried also.

Traitor, thy thirty pieces of silver only pur¬
chased thee a grave for thy unsightly form
among the wandering poorest of the poor of
earth. What an awful price to pay with eyes
blinded with the lust of money. So must sin
pull its ruin in upon itself; and the lust of
money must make its own hell to set a million
hells on fire—to blight, wreck and consume
a world prone to covetousness.

208

The Silent Nazarene

The Sanhedrin

What would the life of Christ be without
the silent pauses—pauses that make his life so
consistent and plain to those who long to know
the way of life. Such grand pauses set off
each sentence of his great life—make each
emphatic and pregnant with meaning. Who
could read that life without them? Truly
they are written in terms of the human but
their meanings extend into the eternities.
Yes, they dim to mortal vision as they further
recede into the limitless and endless eternity.
Then that which is dimmest melts into the
unseen, and is lost in the all-comprehensive
only to be found as the eager searcher loses
himself in the quest. He is in the way of
Christ and to him it is given to get a glimpse
behind the veil which is forbidden to the im¬
pure heart and unclean eye. These silent
pauses mark off that infinite life so that its
simplicity can be read with an increasing in¬
terest as the liver grows deeper into the secret
depths. Simple but profound in whatever
place it touches and interprets. It is the sim¬
plest of the simple, and yet the profoundest
of the profound. What child cannot love its
simplicity? What sage can fathom its hot-

How He Took Up His Cross 209

tomless depths? It embraces earth; it com¬
prehends heaven. It speaks the language of
heaven in terms of that of earth. It blends
earth and heaven in one harmonious whole—
speaking a language all can know who live
simply and humbly. This is the life of the
man who said: “I thank thee, Father, Lord
of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid
these things from the wise and the prudent,
and hast revealed them unto babes.”

Lo, see that quiet isle in the midst of that
swift rushing stream. The turbulent waters
are rushing heedlessly together till they reach
the slope of the isle, then they foam, divide
and swiftly clamor by on either side. Then
the noisy waters rush into one another, leaving
a misty void at the foot of the isle beneath the
struggle of the wrestling giants as they inter¬
lock their forces and rush on heedless as be¬
fore. The quiet isle lifts itself in majestic
stillness above the floodtide. The sunlight
rests upon its peaceful bosom; the morning
mists arise and mingle with the ever-present
spray. Still mid even’s dews the spray is
there. Undisturbed, a modest plant lifts its
head above the surface of the isle. It grows
as the waters surge and rage. In silence un¬
broken its growth reaches a more perfect ma-

210

The Silent Nazarene

turity. The season passes; the remnant of
the fruit is gleaned; but still the savage waters
clamor and wrestle.

From the likeness we see in this isle we catch
a glimpse of the Christ.

O for a sight into the life divine,

Which Christ did live majestic here;

1 While fretful mortals writhe and pine,
Though Christ saw naught in earth to fear.

Yes, for a sight into that great complacent life
—that peaceful and undisturbed life that rose
sublimely majestic over and above the flood-
tide of the ages. How restfully he rises out
of and above the stormy passions of men. Yes,
he rises stainless out of that floodtide where
the God-blessed law of human subsistence are
changed into beastly greed; and where the
God-sanctioned laws of self-assertion are
transformed into cramping jealousy, and bane¬
ful envy; where the evil eye rests with treach¬
ery upon the good successes of others. How
Christ was proof against all this. He stood
silently elegant while these were clashing and
dashing themselves to pieces in surf and foam.
In this he is like the majestic isle that, though
it is placed in the midst of the fury, is proof

How He Took Up His Cross 211

against the floodtide. He rises over this flood-
tide of clashing death and nourishes in his
bosom the finest product Heaven and Earth
could give—the beautiful life of the God-
Man.

Did not the life of humanity, freighted with
fears, anxieties, and emulations, rush on heed¬
less in boisterous clamor till it came to the
visible form of Christ, an isle of majestic
quiet? Here these plunging, forging forces
find the mortal in reserve. Something strange
is in this mad fight that is on so hotly. Here
this stream is arrested, broken in foam of its
own confusion, divided. Then it madly rushes
on as heedless as before. The mortal eye
could glance no further than the form of the
isle that arrested its mad rush. There this
stream divides:—a part in implacable hatred
and malice:—a part clamoring for mortal
honor and splendor; yes, the Pharisee jealous
of the merits of Christ; the people seeking to
make him their king; the disciples rushing for
the chief places in the great earthly kingdom
which they believe is about to be set up. Not
even one disciple had the spirit of Christ;
John, the beloved not excepted, for did he not
ask for himself the very chiefest place? They
are all befogged in the mists of their own con-

212

The Silent Nazarene

fusion, and rush about the quiet, complacent
Christ.

Not a stir of emotion, not a quiver of the
lips, the Christ in deep complacency stands be¬
fore the Sanhedrin. The popular floods surge
high about him. Now they are dividing,
rushing by heedless of the majestic Christ they
are passing—a part flows with the resistless
current of Phariseeism,—while a part lags and
flags with the disappointed, dejected disciples.
How very few are they who tarry with him;
but even they are lost, confused in what they
know not. The great complacent Christ
stands majestic there, though the floods are
noisily and angrily lashing all about. The
most beautiful, the most delicate of Heaven’s
flowers is unfolding in that quiet, undisturbed
bosom. It is the divine life that is calmly
lifting itself in silent growth from the rough¬
est and crudest of earth into the finest and pur¬
est of heaven. What noble fruitage matures
from out the life of Christ in earth. Ah, it
is blending and losing its all in the life of
God. This was the life of the Christ of God
whose meat was to do the will of the Father,
and who was in the midst of the earth as one
who serves. What a wonderful monument to
be erected in the midst of the rush of the ages.

How He Took Up His Cross 213

A monument to the best that is in man, and to
the power of God’s love to lift and ennoble
and set it on high. What figure can express
this life? And whereunto shall we liken it?
This life fulfills the purpose of creation. It
is the blazing torch of heaven by which all
failures are seen and judged, as well as the
Source from which all help and good come.
Hear the ancient Simeon speak: “Behold, this
child is set for the falling and the rising of
many in Israel.” He also called him “A light
for the unveiling of the Gentiles.”

What loneliness hangs its shadowy curtains
all about an isle in the midst of a mad rushing
stream. What sublime loneliness throws it¬
self about the unfolding life in the bosom of
the isle. What awful and exceedingly grand
loneliness in the lofty heights of the rugged,
overhanging cliffs, in the dark and awful
silence of which some lone growth is strug¬
gling to send down and grip its spreading
roots. As Christ rises in the midst of the
stream of the ages, towering above in moral
and spiritual achievements, what loneliness
falls about his great expanding, loving soul.
He saw his disciples disappointed and sor¬
rowing. He sought to lay hold upon their
hearts with his great sympathy and interpret

214

The Silent Nazarene

to them his way. What he would say in re¬
gard to it would seem to deepen their sorrow,
at least the apprehension of something, they
knew not what. They could not understand
him. He was misunderstood and misinter¬
preted by all. His jealous enemies viciously
and harshly misinterpreted him. But how
painful the misunderstanding of the disciples?
How could the tense stress and tension be re¬
moved? How he longed to give security in
his great undisturbed life to those he saw so
sorely dismayed. Truly he was seeing the
shepherd smitten and the sheep scattered. His
great lonely soul was before the Sanhedrin,
composed of men who bore him deadly hatred,
without a friend understanding him in any
way whatever. Completely misunderstood by
friends and foes, he enters the valley of the
shadow of death without a fear of the evil that
was besetting him on every side at its utmost
concentration and its consummate daring. He
relied upon the rod and the staff of Jehovah;
yea, his all was caught up and identified with
the will of the Father. There could be no
defeat or failure here. All was perfectly se¬
cure. Even death must yield him the palm of
victory. How he longed to make his disci¬
ples understand all this. Would that they

How He Took Up His Cross 215

could find and live the secret he lived. But
how is it? One of these very ones not only
misunderstood him but actually wilfully de¬
nies him.

Yes, at this moment of severest test a disci-,
pie who had sworn to be faithful even unto
death, flatly denies him at a maiden’s question.
Yet that very denial was a powerful witness
of the greatness of the Christ. Peter, even in
his denial, testifies of the saving power of the
Lord Jesus. A look from the faithful, tried
countenance of Christ melts the rash over¬
confident disciple’s heart to tears. It saves
him. Those very tears are changed to heroic
power as that heart goes with Christ from
sorrow to sorrow and shares in the full
flower of the resurrected life. Can the
apostle Peter not speak for himself?
“This Jesus hath God raised up whereof
we all are witnesses.” Time but intensifies
the witness of this man, even that flat denial
from his lips. All must witness for Jesus.
The power of Jesus is most beautifully seen
in safeguarding and saving the unfaithful.
“All are witnesses,” not merely the disciples
but the whole great world of imperfection and
sin.

This is not all. Jesus causes his enemies to

2 i 6 The Silent Nazarene

witness for him, even where his disciples wit¬
ness not. God in Christ truly makes the wrath
of man to praise him. They seek witnesses
against him and find them not. They must
conjure up something. They seek false wit¬
nesses. But even this fails them, for what the
false witnesses bring is of no avail for the end
in view. They construed his words in regard
to the temple to suit themselves. Yet they
signified nothing in way of accusation. They
seek an answer from him. He is silent. There
is no need of answer. Now they begin to play
the coward, and try to take advantage of the
stronghold by sordid motives. They see that
silence is his strength and that the truth is on
his side. So they are forced to do desperate
things. They seek to break his silence. Would
he dare to own himself as the Son of God at
this moment? It would mean certain death.
They knew not the man who stood before
them. When fear demands silence it is time
to speak. “Art thou the Christ, the Son of the
Blessed?” Jesus does not conceal the truth in
his answer. He speaks it out frankly and
plainly. Yes, it is strikingly plain and distinct.

“ T am.’ And ‘ye say that I am.’ By your
very actions ye show that ye are convinced
that this is so. Now do ye think I should fear

How He Took Up His Cross 217

to speak upon this matter even though I know
ye will use it as a pretext for putting me to
death? More than this ‘ye shall see the Son
of Man sitting on the right hand of power, and
coming on the clouds of heaven.’ I shall have
complete sway and jurisdiction over the earth,
and ye shall be judged by my counsels.”

The reserved, complacent Christ saw their
sordid weak hearts. He was fully conscious
of the base motives they sought to move upon.
They rend their garments and act in the most
distressed manner. Yea, Christ the master of
the situation saw the results. He saw beneath
the foul mockery, willing to play upon the
base motive of fear if only an end could be
reached. It was an unfair attack upon the
great citadel, and only meant the complete
confusion of all who assailed the mighty bul¬
wark. Jesus for that matter could just as well
say what he was in the presence of the high
priest as in the seclusion of Caesarea Philippi.
He was just as much in the presence of the
Father here as there. He had the truth on
his side just as much here as there. The great
undisturbed mind of Christ knew when to
speak and when to withhold. He knew when
speech was demanded and when it was useless
mockery. Could there be stronger witnesses

2 l8

The Silent Nazarene

for Christ than these men who viciously sought
to condemn him, but who unintentionally and
unconsciously lifted the beauty of that life be¬
fore the eyes of men of all succeeding ages?
They meant to crush him, but they lifted him
to fuller view. So all the enemies of Christ
may seek to conceal and even erase, blot out
that life from the eyes of men but they shall
surely lift it to a broader and clearer vision of
humanity. They cause things to conspire to¬
gether that the brilliancy of the genuineness of
the Christ comes forth and dims not but in¬
tensifies with the ages.

Truly do you not hear even these witnessing
positively of his transcendent mission and
greatness? Hear what the high priest says:—
“That it is expedient that one man should die
for the people.” Was it an echo? If so, from
where?

“O high priest art thou sitting in the halls
of truth? Is it strange that thou shouldst catch
a faint trace of that which is reverberating
through the great chambers of truth that are
laid in the heart of the universe? Is not the
universe converging about this one great truth
this very moment? Yes, it is so very near the
surface of things that the very rocks are almost
ready to cry it out.”

How He Took Up His Cross 219

If earth can see but one silent moment, it
is but a hint of what is back of it in the heav¬
ens. What then if earth can get a glimpse of
one perfect life? Should this life go down in
silence before the clamor of the imperfect
ones? This life is a glimpse of heaven; yea,
as much of heaven as could be pressed in a
mortal span. Out of the silence in which it
went down the world’s regenerating forces
rise, as did the creative forces out of God’s
great self to make the worlds and place them
in their order. We are a new creation in
Christ; for the former things are passed away,
but not till they could die to give the newer
birth. So when the old creation holds its fair¬
est flower, it dies in giving sweetness to the
coming fair, and leaves a fairer land which
blooms in greater freshness as the fair ones
die to yield their sweetness to the living fair;
as each doth know a fairer stage from each as
all approach the life complete that gave them
birth. Did not Christ, the fairest flower of
creation die to show by proof that it is so?
His mortal form broken dies, and his great life
bursts forth and fills the world with heaven’s
very life. This is the life of the man who
said:—“Verily, verily, I say unto you, except
a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die,

220

The Silent Nazarene

it abideth alone: but if it die it bringeth forth
much fruit.”

The D enial

What a tempestuous disciple! so full of
emotion. Always ready with an answer for
whatever comes. Just as ready with advice
unasked for—for superior as for inferior. He
withstands his Lord to the face insisting that
his Master must be mistaken as he himself can¬
not be in error. Let us see how he falls all
over himself as he comes to the real test.

How positive he is that he will remain true
to his Lord in every crisis and under every
circumstance. But not far removed from
even the very beginning of the gracious min¬
istry treachery is casting its shadow over the
grand work of the Christ. Yes, at the very
height of his activities restlessness steals its
way even among his disciples. Some of his fol¬
lowers have turned back from walking with
him. Of course the fickle crowd is falling
away since he has refused to let them take him
and make him king with the hope of subject¬
ing and enslaving the earth. This is to be ex¬
pected. But when his sincere followers begin
to turn back it is uncertain as to where it
would end. Christ put his test question to his

i

How He Took Up His Cross 221

disciples for he knew that they also were par¬
takers of human nature; and so being they
were sharing in the doubts and ambitions so
characteristic of our race. So he addressed
the chosen few, saying:

“Ye see that men are falling away from fol¬
lowing after me. My ways do not meet their
approval. Even some that were very sincere
have turned aside. Would ye also go away?”

Quick as a flash is that impulsive disciple
with an answer. “Lord, to whom shall we
go? thou hast the words of eternal life.”

“Truly, Peter, hast thou flashed upon a
glimpse back of the veil?”

But the shadows are growing; they lengthen
and stretch themselves over and across the life
of Christ as he is facing his western sun—his
declining sun so far as his earthly life is con¬
cerned. Man’s dark treachery is malignly
plotting to crush out his life. The Master
distinctly points out to his chosen few that the
shepherd shall be smitten and the sheep scat¬
tered. Yes, he told them, saying:

“All ye shall be offended because of me
this night.”

In what hot haste is Simon Peter to reply.
Pie is very sure of himself. He is vehement
in his language.

222

The Silent Nazarene

“Though all men shall be offended because
of thee, yet will I never be offended.”

But the fact of the matter is that his Lord
knows Simon far better than Simon knows his
own self, and his Lord says,

“Verily I say unto thee, that this night,
before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me
thrice.”

Ah, this is irritating to the rash and over¬
confident disciple and spokesman. Indeed he
spoke what he thought. He assumed it all to
be truth, and was very much agitated that it
should provoke a question within his Master.
So he would make it very strong with vehem¬
ent words.

“Though I should die with thee, yet will I
not deny thee.”

So we are told “Likewise said all the dis¬
ciples.”

“O disciple, thou art defying all reason.
Wilt thou impulsively rush on as if no warn¬
ing had been given? How long is it neces¬
sary to find out that blindly blundering and
rushing up against things, is not mastery?”

“At the betrayal thou art just roused out of
thy sleep; slash off the ear of one of the gang
that is about to take thy Lord. Art thou
dreaming, or but half awake? Hast thou been

How He Took Up His Cross 223

so long a time with thy Lord, and hast not
learned better than this? Is it possible that
thy Lord must rebuke thee, and bid thee put
up thy sword into its place, when thou hast
stood so very near him for three years? Did
he not take thee with him to the Mount of
Transfiguration? and did he not choose thee as
one of the three to go with him for prayer in
this very garden? Where is all this education
at any rate? Is it possible to breathe in the
very presence of Christ and miss the spirit of
his life so completely? Now we see the force
of the words of the Blessed Master to the
doubting Thomas: “Blessed are they that have
not seen, and yet have believed.” Is it that the
mortal is so much in thy way? But lo, what
strange thing is taking place? What un¬
looked for spirit has come over thee? Is it not
so contrary to thy past? Why follow this Mas¬
ter to whom thou hast sworn allegiance afar
off? Hast thou forgotten thy pledge already?
Or didst thou not understand thyself when
thou rashly didst swear to stand with him even
unto death? Ah, Simon Peter, thou art very
much human too; and art heir to much human
weakness, yes, and hast very much to learn and
profit thereby.”

This early cool morn, see Simon Peter

224

The Silent Nazar ene

slowly drawing nearer the high priest’s house.
The stealthy band with their prisoner is within
the porch, except a few who are hanging
around the outside. As he draws gradually
nearer is he wondering how he is to get by
these, that he might see what is taking place
within? His head seems bowed, as though in
deep meditation. Perhaps he is thinking how
he slashed off that ear in the garden, and how
his Master touched it and healed it, and yet
let them lead him captive to the high priest.
Maybe they have him spotted now, and are
on the lookout for him. He must exercise
great caution or they will capture and try him,
if for no other reason than for wounding a
man, and perhaps impute to him the intention
of murder. As his mind is all befuddled, in
some way he edges by these who are whisper¬
ing together on the outside. Just as he gets
through he lifts his eyes and sees the whisper¬
ing danger through which he has just squeezed
himself. A shudder goes through his body.
Maybe it’s all about himself. He feels cool
at any rate and draws near the fire to warm
his shaking frame. Whether a nervous chill
or a chill from the natural cold without he
was busy with thought. The warm fire is wel¬
come to the trembling body, but his senses are

How He Took Up His Cross 225

certainly bewitched and in a muddle. That
little maiden who draws near to the fire and
asks him whether he was not with Jesus, adds
to his confusion and perplexity. He had
enough of trouble as it was without being dis¬
turbed by a maiden, and especially one who
wanted him to commit himself right in the
presence of those who held his Lord as a pris¬
oner. Perhaps if he could have whispered it
to her apart from them he might have done
so. He is not exactly a coward, but somehow
he has lost his grip. He, therefore, replies—
“I don’t know what thou art talking about.
I don’t understand thee; what thou sayest.”
He did not mean to say that.

“But Simon, thou hast proven unfaithful,
and untrue. Thou hast lied only to make thy
condition more baffling. Thou art vexed that
they don’t leave thee alone at that. How can
a man’s sins leave him alone? Dost thou think
that such an answer will satisfy those who wish
to pry into thy whereabouts? and shield thee
from further annoyance and unpleasantness of
assault? Why go out into the porch? Dost thou
hope to run away from and escape the sting?
Ah, it follows thee there in hot pace. Thou
canst not help but be seen. Yes, seen by an¬
other maiden, and she too knows what she is

22 6

The Silent Nazarene

talking about. She makes it her business to
tell those who are standing by who thou art.”

“This fellow was also with Jesus of Naz¬
areth.” She could not help but talk about
the important event that was taking place. She
wished to tell all she knew about it too. That
was perfectly natural. Can Simon Peter keep
his reserve and remain silent? Is not his
Lord passing through the tests with wonderful
reserve? The information is not addressed to
Simon, but somehow he thinks it is meant for
him, and he chafes under it. Ah, he denies
again with an oath, “I do not know the man.”

“Simon, thy sin is driving thee to close cor¬
ners. Its demands are growing harsher, and
thou art sinking deeper. Thy sin of unfaith¬
fulness is burning thee blacker. It will hunt
thee down. If thou returnest back into the
presence of thy Master it will press thee ex¬
ceedingly hard there. But there only thou
canst be saved.”

But that maiden has not spoken in vain.
Thy vehement protest has only roused suspi¬
cion with those that are standing by. They
see that thou art too anxious to escape this
charge. They become restless in their curios¬
ity to press the matter. How much time will
they allow elapse? Just now see one gradu-

How He Took Up His Cross 227

ally drawing nearer. He seems to have some¬
thing to say. Hear, his curiosity gets the bet¬
ter of him.

“Surely thou also art one of them; for thy
speech maketh thee known.” “It is useless
to deny it. Thy very speech giveth thee away.
Thou art a Galilean. There is no mistake
about that. Every evidence shows that thou
art. Yes, we saw thee in the garden with him;
and-”

Simon Peter breaks in, cursing and swear¬
ing, saying, “I know not this man of whom ye
speak.” Then there was a terrible moment
of awful silence and immediately the cock
crew. Just then the Master who had been si¬
lent all the while turns and looks on that un¬
faithful disciple. He speaks not a word; but
that look crowds that disciple’s mind with
overwhelming thoughts, and melts that heart
so that if it were capable it would flow rivers
of tears. Yes, he would pour the whole heart
out in sobs of bitter weeping. “And he went
out and wept bitterly.”

But so much anguish must be pent up and
retained, to tear the very sinews out; to wrap
the soul in remorse, and the body in excruciat¬
ing pain. Both must suffer together. Both
must grow together out of the old life into

228

The Silent Nazarene

the new, where pains, misgivings, and remorse
even must fade away, as the soul grips itself
and lives in the higher life of Christ. Yes,
when the Apostle Peter could live in the ten¬
derness, and loving innocence of that look of
his Master he could truly say, “I live,” or
rather with the Apostle Paul, “Christ liveth
in me.” Ah, in very truth, whenever our look
claims those who are unfaithful to us, with¬
out any reason for their being so on our part,
we are getting the spirit of the Master; we
are saving men with Christ. Christ liveth in
us.

We are like Peter, we know such a little
about ourselves that we must run up against
many things in our overconfidence before we
find our own inability to cope with things as
they are, and our need of a stronger arm to
rely upon; yes, a stronger mind on which to
shift burdens too heavy and complex for us.
It takes much stumbling to find that God is
our burden-bearer. The load must be next
thing to impossible to carry—it must be at
the breaking down and crushing point, if we
will let him have it and dispose of it for us.
It took many rough hard rebuffs for the quick
impulsive Peter to find that the quiet, inno¬
cent look of his Master alone could save him.

How He Took Up His Cross 229

It was a look so full of pity and compassion
that he remembers it all now. How he had
been living with Christ and the manner of
life Christ lived. He recalls vividly how
his Master warned him of his weakness, and
how he heedlessly rushed on in his rash way
till he had showed himself in this last des¬
perate extremity of unfaithfulness. Was it
not time for the look of Christ to bring him
back? Yet it was in due season—the proper
moment.

Ah, God always steps in at the proper mo¬
ment. He withholds the arm of Abraham
when he has the point of the knife at his son’s
heart. Just when a man’s sin is about to do
its last deadly work the love of Christ smites
the glaring lance into shivering splinters.
Man finds himself, and lays his soul as is hon¬
orable and right at the feet of this Knight
of the ages. This man of silent greatness de¬
livers after a wonderful fashion. A look
from him can save a man. Can save a man
who, when he seeks relief from pressure, gen¬
erally choses a way open to his own confu¬
sion. He trusts in the “horses and horsemen
of Egypt” only to be trodden down by them.
Yes, he is lost in his own bewilderment. The
pure, the serene, the masterful look of Christ

230

The Silent Nazarene

alone can bring him back to himself.

Christ Before Pilate

Lo, how many stretches of mortal existence
there are in spite of our frailty. We live in
spite of our faults and mistakes; yes, mistakes
that are too often blind blundering. When
we have passed we often wonder how we have
passed the impassable breach, and yet are
safe. To human eye this becomes a mystery.
But the vivid flashes from the hidden depths
somehow make our pathway sure, so we are
willing to move on though we know that we
are capable of making many blunders—stum¬
bling into many dangers that beset our path¬
way. If the soul is set on avoiding these hid¬
den snares by placing reliance upon these
prompt and persistent flashes out of the hid¬
den depths; yes, if the pilgrim seeks this guid¬
ance diligently, he will pass unhurt. Some¬
thing tells us right from wrong in no uncer¬
tain terms.

But what if this gentle though sure guide
is ignored? Then conscience either becomes
a scourge, or it is silenced beneath the ruins
of an immortal soul. How often scourged
like galley slave we are forced to do the

How He Took Up His Cross 231

right. We remember the wrong as long
as the smarting sting is there. Then
straightway we forget and commit as grave
errors as before with the sting intensified a
hundredfold. It becomes a marvel how so
many of us pass and live. God warns; we
forget. Some eyes are open; others are delib¬
erately closed. These latter stumble into their
own ruin. So Pilate, like a Galley slave, was
scourged into his own hell.

Does not the clamoring voice bewitch you
that it holds the power—performs the work?
Is not the fright too often at the report and
not at the bullet stroke of death? The ex¬
plosive force may send the bullet on, but first
the quiet touch must give it leave. The rip¬
ping thunder clash may fall like splintering
sounds all about the storm-shrouded dale, but
ere this is heard the vivid piercing lightnings
have done their work.

The clamoring crowd is like a seething mass
that finds its vent at every fissure that may
break within its prison walls; the weakest
points must yield to its infuriate haste. The
thunderous noise confuse, dethrone men from
their reason, and they plunge into the lava
stream of death. Alas for Pilate, who suf¬
fered the clamoring voice of the multitude to

232 The Silent Nazarene

bewitch his senses and plunge him into the
ignoble deed that brought him ruin. Well
might he ask, “Art thou a king?” of the meek,
self-possessed Christ who stands before him.
Pilate was caught in the muddle of the clamor.
But this man in a strange power that grew in¬
tense with his silence was master. When his
answer came it was a kingly one. Its ring
set at naught the clamor and made the hands
of Pilate weak. *‘Thou sayest it” made Pilate
prisoner in the question he had asked. And
Jesus still must speak to this man’s utter
confusion.

“Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end
have I been born, and to this end am I come
into the world, that I should bear witness
unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth
heareth my voice.”

How Pilate’s confusion waxes bewildering.
He is at a loss to know how to help himself.
He can only resort to a question again; yes, a
question to plunge him into deeper perplexity.
He asks, “What is truth?” and nervously
rushes out without an answer, saying to the
Jews, “I find no crime in him.” The strain
of indecision became more tense and chained
his mind within its hold; the great silent king
with irresistible power on one side, and the

How He Took Up His Cross 233

clamoring multitude with their crushing pres¬
sure on the other. “Answerest thou nothing?
behold how many things they accuse thee of.”
Ah, but there in unbroken silence the Christ
stands. He knows that the so-called accusa¬
tions in themselves have no weight at all. To
reply to them would be useless folly; yes,
sheer madness. Such would unarm him of
his mastery. Christ stands there with master¬
ful reserve. Pilate marvels. Well might he
marvel. The kingly might of the silent man
dethrones the governor so that as a perplexed
beast he sought every manner of escape. The
fear of the multitude fell upon him like a
stinging scourge, and the mastery of the silent
king impelled him he knew not where.

Now at the feast he was accustomed to re¬
lease unto them one prisoner whom they asked
of him. There was one Barabbas who was ly¬
ing bound with them that had made insurrec¬
tion, men who in the insurrection had com¬
mitted murder. “Now the chief priests and
the elders persuaded the multitudes that they
should ask for Barabbas, and destroy Jesus.”
But Pilate wishes to anticipate the wishes of
the multitudes that he might the more gain
their favor. So he goes out to them, saying,
“Whom will ye that I release unto you? Ba-

234

The Silent Nazarene

rabbas, or Jesus who is called Christ?” How
high the clamor goes. It is like the crest of the
floodtide, and its roaring clamor like the floods
of many waters. So disorderly and irresisti¬
ble are they. The governor makes as though he
does not understand the multitudes, and in his
mad endeavor to get from them that which he
hopes to receive, he repeats his question, elimi¬
nating the names that had thrown the multi¬
tudes into such a mad frenzy (as he supposed).
“Which of the two will ye that I release unto
you?” They shout back, “Barabbas.” But
the governor ignores them and makes as
though he does not hear. “Will ye that I re¬
lease unto you the king of the Jews?” Now
all their fury is thrown into their vehement an¬
swer. They will make it strong and clear to
him this time. The governor cannot mistake
it again. It is like the pounding of the waters
upon the tide-lashed rock-ribbed sides of the
narrow sound. He must hear it because of its
massive weight if for no other reason. “Away
with this man, and release unto us Barabbas:
Not this man, but Barabbas.” Then the dis¬
tracted governor asks as though he would
cover his confusion with further confusion,
saying, “What then shall I do with Jesus who
is called Christ?” “Ah, Pilate, thou hast ig-

How He Took Up His Cross 235

nored the first part of their reply so that they
can drive the sting deeper into thy smarting
soul. Again thou art asking that raving mul¬
titude what to do.” They roar him back the
answer with hoarse throats, heaping distract¬
ing confusion upon his already insane and
wrecked judgment. Yes, they are like the
crashing floods that break and overflow his
soul, and in their raging bluster sweep away in
ruins his better self. The shouts, “Crucify
him, crucify him,” are overwhelming this
victim of the fickle mob. Pilate seeking to
stop its fury again asks that mad mob a ques¬
tion—asks to reason with them, saying, “Why,
what evil hath he done?” The cry of the
fierce multitude is but intensified—hoarse
throats shrieking out: “Let him be crucified.”
There was no let up but the cry became ex¬
ceeding fierce so that no man could tame it
down with reason as Pilate sought to do. It
had all gotten beyond him.

And while Pilate is sitting on the judgment
seat his wife sends a message unto him. As
he reads it darkness crowds his brow and his
restless countenance betokens a disquieted soul.
She has written to her already distracted hus¬
band, saying, “Have nothing to do with that
righteous man: for I have suffered many

236

The Silent Nazarene

things this day in a dream because of him.”
Everything points to the righteousness of this
kingly man but the multitudes without are
clamoring with hoarse voices the one thing,
“Let him be crucified.” “So when Pilate saw
that he prevailed nothing, but rather that a
tumult was arising, he took water, and washed
his hands before the multitude, saying, I am
innocent of the blood of this man; see ye to
it.” And all the people answer, waxing ex¬
ceedingly bold on seeing the governor weaken
—relaxing his grip upon the silent kingly man
between him and that furious multitude. “His
blood be on us, and on our children.” He re¬
leases to them Barabbas and gives Jesus over
to them to be scourged.

Does it befit a ruler to do a childish act?
Can Pilate wash his hands clean of the inno¬
cent blood? His distorted countenance be¬
tokens an outraged writhing soul. His acts
carve out a living picture of a slave. What to
scourge a man in hope that he might get the
consent of the mob to set him free? “Pilate,
why try to humble that silent man to make
him tenfold more thy king? The crown of
thorns, the purple robe will but distract thy
already enslaved senses, and show more grand¬
ly the silent Master who made thee marvel.

How He Took Up His Cross 237

Each trifling deed when thou canst stand on
neither side will make thee more a slave.”

“Now you stand, O bonded slave of the
throne. You are bound about with regal
shackles. The people seize the manacles and
clutch them about your hands. You move to¬
ward that multitude, suffer the innocent, un¬
resenting man to be mocked, jeered at in the
most humiliating way. Now he is crowned
with thorns; now arrayed in purple robe; now
struck with the hand, and smitten with the
reed: Yes, even he is spit upon. But unkind-
est of all, see these vile mockers bow the knee,
and in derision cry out, “Hail, king of the
Jews,” striking his head with the reed they had
placed in his hand as a mock sceptre. Now,
Pilate, you come forth to this crowd wild with
the fury of hate to whom you have been giving
just enough of his blood to make their mad¬
ness rave from an unsatiate thirst—you come
forth to say to that mob. “Behold I bring him
forth to you, that ye may know, that I find no
fault in him.” Pilate, can you continually
kindle and feed the fire and expect it stop
burning? The lowly man is at your side—
how? Honored with royal diadem and regal
splendor? Alas he wears a crown of thorns
and a mock robe of purple. You call out to

238

The Silent Nazarene

that grimy, thirsty mob, “Behold the man,”
and then expect him free? Does the savage
beast leave off devouring his prey because
he has mangled and torn it? Will his gaze
upon it satisfy him? Does it not rather in¬
crease his thirst for the blood of his victim?
Yes, humanity not merely encages the soul in
beastly prisons, when deadly passions rage,
but makes the soul its slave to lift the beastly
passions to tenfold greater shame. Pilate,
you dare not throw your victim into beastly
jaws and hope to rescue him by so doing. And
so too it is vain for you to walk into the fire,
and hope to avoid it at the same instant.

Do you hear out of that multitude’s clamor,
something that will break the tension of your
way? Listen, “By our law he ought to die, be¬
cause he made himself the Son of God.” Pi¬
late, will you still insist that the silent kingly
man answer the clamor of the raving multi¬
tude as you are trying to do? Is your confu¬
sion insufficient still? Why threaten him be¬
cause of his silence? How dare you say,
“Speakest thou not unto me? Knowest thou
not that I have power to crucify thee, and
power to release thee?” But listen, Pilate,
the silence is broken. “Thou couldst have no
power at all against me, except it was given

How He Took Up His Cross 239
thee from above!”

Did Pilate believe him? Then why did he
try to “release him from that very hour”? Is
it strange after all this that he should have
believed it, being spoken by this kingly man?
How could he have stood before such a life,
and not have had the power of the words that
proceeded out of its silence masterly enforced
and borne in upon him? Yes, the life of Christ
clinched what he said. His words were pow¬
erful because he was so much greater than
his words. His very life spoke more elo¬
quently than words could convey. What he
was convinced Pilate that this was so. He
needs no other evidence. He tries to free
Jesus. But what of this howling multitude?
Pilate has committed himself to them. How
can he extricate himself? They have drawn
him into the subtle meshes of their web. He
is their victim rather than the silent man of
Galilee.

When the multitude see the governor
straining every nerve to release the silent pris¬
oner they shout up to him, saying, “If thou re¬
lease this man, thou art not Caesar’s friend:
every one that maketh himself a king speaketh
against Caesar.” Pilate has the life whipped out
of him as he hears these crued words fiercely

240

The Silent Nazarene

hurled at him. His unavailing energies flag—
exhausted he is on the point of total collapse^
and brings Jesus out, and sits down upon the
judgment-seat at a place called the Pave¬
ment, but in Hebrew Gabbatha. Why does
Pilate continue to counsel with that mob? Is
he not deep enough in confusion and perplex¬
ity? He does not know what he is doing. He
is exasperated because of indecision. But
what mania has taken hold of him? What
possesses him to come before that crowd again,
and say, “Behold, your king?” Does he ex¬
pect to work himself into their graces because
of this saying? or is he mocking them? Have
not things here of late taken too serious a turn
for Pilate to mock at the expense of this si¬
lent kingly man before him? Where are his
senses? Did that dream of his wife give him
the nightmare too? “Poor slave of thy own
ambition and fears! The people have made
them into a scourge for thy lacerated and
bleeding soul. They are scourging thee with¬
out mercy. They cry out with deafening
clamor: “Away with him, away with him,
crucify him!” “Pilate, poor wretch thou art,
wilt thou come at them again with a question
in thy last extremity?” “Shall I crucify your
king?” “What answer didst thou expect,

How He Took Up His Cross 241

worsted mortal?” The chief priests are ready
with an answer for thee, Pilate.” “We have
no king but Caesar.” (Here these religious
murderers are very loyal for it is both con¬
venient and needful in obtaining the sentence
of murder upon the silent Man of Nazareth.)
At this the multitude backed up the chief
priests with their harassing clamor: “Crucify
him, crucify him. Away with him, away with
him, crucify him—let him be crucified.”

This would-be ruler is as helpless as a babe,
but unlike a babe his soul is withered, cowed,
and scourged into fiery despair by the lash¬
ings of his better self, and crushed by the ir¬
resistible power of the truth as it stood before
him in the person of the silent prisoner on
trial. Ah, but such is the irony of things that
Pilate was on trial before the face of Christ;
yes, the face of the truth—he was weighed in
the balances and found wanting. He could
not stand the test. The pressure was too great
for him. He vields to the clamor of the mul-

j

titude which he sought to appease and satisfy
from the very first—dragging the silent man
into it with a vain endeavor to set him free.
But what he did was to constantly commit
himself to it without drawing the silent, self-
possessed man into the vortex of the whirlpool.

242

The Silent Nazarene

Pilate lost his grip, but the masterful spirit
never failed the humble Man of Galilee. The
record says:

“Therefore he delivered him unto them to
be crucified.”

The Crucifixion

Life speaks in one great silent language.
Yet its speech is most wonderfully powerful
and emphatic. It speaks what it is. To him
that lives this speech is clear and its notes
grow clearer as he presses further on in his
quest; yes, a quest that finds itself simply by
living. It makes disclosures in no other way.
Does not the tender plantlet sprout in silence?
Is not the language of the tender sprout the
eloquent speech of silent growth from day
to day? It is all so simple and natural that
when men avail themselves of this secret of
nature they grow and live also.

But, hush! there comes a sound. What can
it be? It comes from out the life that grew in
silence as the seasons passed—a limb is broken
from the sturdy tree. Could that which grew
in silence all these years be snapped, and
broken in a niche of time? The fractured
fibers tearing cell from cell, brings a crash-

How He Took Up His Cross 243

ing sound from out this splendid peace. Is
not the growth from the tender sprout to the
deep colored, luscious ripe fruit without a
break? Why this infraction—this break be¬
tween the sprout and the fruit immature? Is
the break death? Is the life to go blasted
and fruitless? The body that life gives in si¬
lent growth must yield a groan when death in¬
trudes upon the order that imparts it life.
But life itself shall take another form till
death shall frown it to the earth again. Such
is the life of earth where change and decay
mark things everywhere. When death is van¬
quished this frown shall be removed from the
brow of mortal things, and all shall, as sym-
boled in the death of earthly things, die to each
other that the life of each may unfold trans¬
parently beautiful in the life of the other,
when all that is achieved and done is for the
good of the life of the other; yes, all is lost in
giving sweetness to life on every side. This is
the life of Heaven. A life which Christ re¬
vealed in resplendent fairness. What he was
in living conduct spoke this language even
more powerful than his words. His life was
the full flower of what he said. What he said
but points you to his life to see for yourself
whether these things be so. He who said:

244

The Silent Nazarene

“I am among you as one who serves,” lost him¬
self so completely in serving that he walks
straight into the jaws of death. This Man
said: “Greater love hath no man than this,
that a may lay down his life for his friends.”
This Man who said this waded through in¬
gratitude of even his friends to do this very
thing, that is to lay down his life for them.
This Man who said: “Love thy neighbor as
thyself,” actually after having suffered insult
after insult from those who hated and despised
him without a cause, prays for them when they
are putting him to death. He who said: “Love
ye one another,” not only stoops to wash his
disciples’ feet, but when utterly forsaken by
them in his extremest need, when loneliness
shrouded his soul as the thick darkness, and
the foul throats of treacherous men were like
sepulchres gaping with death all about him, he
resented not their desertion but with a heart
full of love prays the Father to keep them
from the evil one. Yes, even when facing this
thick darkness he prays this prayer, knowing
the frailty of those for whom he prayed, his
heart welling with sympathy for them and his
consuming desire being that they be kept
against the fiery trials that beset them mid this
midnight gloom. This is the Man who an-

How He Took Up His Cross 245

nounced the law that he lived, “he that loseth
his life shall find it.” This is the law of
heaven translated into that of earth by the life
of Jesus. Is not the life of Jesus found ev¬
erywhere? And wherever it is found there is
happiness and peace; yes, life in its consum¬
mate sweetness, and death must yield its all
in the perfecting of this sweetness. Thus we
find his death the great prototype in earth of
that which is perfect in heaven. We know it
so because Christ in life proved it so. When
we go his way we find it so.

As we look into the great mirror of nature
we behold a likeness to the great spirit life.
The child unconsciously grows to greater stat¬
ure. But lo, we stop for need of strength to
take a further step. What is it? Here life
unclothes far greater secrets than we saw in
silent growth of plants; here, virtues sweeten
before our eyes. How they grow and mature
is the secret life itself must prove. How
often life is called to halt by death, even in
the midst of exceeding freshness and fairness.
How often the most promising life goes down
into the silence of the grave before those of far
less promise. The frail form sighs. But
what of all this sweetness that gathered in this
life? Could the body part with such fairness

246

The Silent Nazarene

without a sigh? That broken temple racked
with pain must go with groans to the lower or¬
der and yield the fair life to larger measures
than it could give. This is the hope that
Christ has given, for he himself has gone this
way. In the full flower of his life he was cut
down. It is no hopeless'way to him. It was
the only gateway to hope. He tells his disci¬
ples so. Yes, he tells them so when he is
standing at the very gateway itself. “If I go
not away, the Comforter will not come unto
you; but if I depart, I will send him unto
you.” It were as though he said, “If I die,
my life will fill the world; if I put off my mor¬
tal body the Spirit of God shall take the hearts
of men; the life of my Father shall be every¬
where present comforting and imparting life
in abundance for He is living and serving in
your midst as ye see me live and serve.”

What sage can enter the secret of the life of
Christ in its preparing stages? The how it
grew is still with God. The record tells us,
“Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and
in favor with God and man.” He lives in
meekness, but there issues from his life a
power before which all that would oppose
grows pale, shrivels and recedes. That which
bends toward his life obtains a greater fresh-

How He Took Up His Cross 247

ness which defeats the grossness that would
mar its life. What a revelation? What a
magnificent life in all its unfolding? There
is not a tinge to mar its symmetry, and perfec¬
tion. Lo, there is a rustle on the leaf? What,
Nature dare not leave a storm break here upon
the serene sky of human perfection? Well
might it be so, that Nature might chain and
interlock her wrestling forces. But the thing
that works the ruin has laid its hand upon
humanity’s vesture. It will rend it from the
top to the bottom, though it can not touch the
perfection within. So Christ must bow his
head and give up the ghost. Thus far can hu¬
man madness rave, but there it stops while the
stainless Christ moves on.

What a concourse of people. How they
press in upon each other. The whole attention
seems riveted upon some one in the very
midst. Those on the edges are now running
here and there as if seeking to find some open¬
ing that they might set their eyes upon what
is going forward in the heart of that moving
tumult. It is headed in one general direction.
Now you can just get a glimpse of some
women as the wedging line breaks a little.
Ah, see these women are weeping. See that

24B

The Silent Nazarene

one who is leaning upon the shoulder of a
splendid young man. Splendid in more ways
than one. He seems to have special favor
with the tumultuous mob that makes up the
centre of that moving train. At the same time
he shows special care for that weeping woman
whose heart no doubt is in the midst of that
mob. See, her very attitude so indicates.
Ah, now that very centre breaks. There is
great excitement. Behold, a young man has
fallen prostrate beneath his load. What con¬
fusion. That weeping woman is about to fall
and embrace that exhausted young man when
a soldiers forbids her interference. This
must be their prisoner who has fallen faint to
the earth. Yes, he has fallen beneath a tree
they have compelled him to bear. Have they
been trying to flag his life out in this way?
Then why do they not let him die on the spot?
for see, they have seized upon another fellow
who chanced to be handy and compel him help
bear the tree. Surely they have given their
victim torment enough already. But no, they
close up the line as closely massed as before,
and press on toward Golgotha’s ghastly frown.
Again through the break in that petulant tu¬
mult you get a glimpse of that mother, for
mother she is, for hear (for you can hear even

How He Took Up His Cross 249

though you can not see). Yes, see too, for the
mob centre breaks again. See that young man
beneath his heavy load turn and address the
women who follow with bitter weeping. Let
us listen to what he has to say.

“Daughters of Jesusalem, weep not for me,
but weep for yourselves, and for your chil¬
dren. For, behold, the days are coming, in the
which they shall say, Blessed are the barren,
and the wombs that never bare, and the paps
which never give suck. Then shall they be¬
gin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; and to
the hills, Cover us. For if they do these
things in a green tree, what shall be done in
the dry?”

Who is the man who dare utter such things?
See the mockers scorn and jeer. But what
wonderful self-control; what marvelous self-
possession this man has over all emotional out¬
bursts. He is perfectly composed and calm,
though his face shows marks of intense suf¬
fering. His countenance is marred as no
other man’s. Yet as they buffet him and in¬
sult him, he plods on with his crushing bur¬
den; yes, he bears the cross without a murmur
to the place of the skull. As he trudges up
that ghastly hill with his straining load his
body exhausted must yield a sigh. Ah, this

250

The Silent Nazarene

but a hint of the painful tragedy that is tak¬
ing place within. With all this stress and
suffering pent within, the Christ lays down his
cumbersome burden on' Calvary. He laid
down his physical burden to prepare to lay
down his spirit’s at the same place and the
same hour. Yes, here is where all mortals
who follow Christ can drop their burdens and
go free.

Now that crowd stops and for a moment
there is silence. Yes, stinging silence that is
broken by the sound of the bar that is digging
up the earth and cleaving the rock. They
are making three holes in which to set three
crosses. Ah, nearby the one in the middle
there stands that young man whose counte¬
nance is marred as no other man. His coun¬
tenance is exceedingly sad. He glances at the
woman who is leaning upon a young man’s
shoulder and then casts an eye at the young
man who is supporting the grief-stricken wo¬
man as if to say, “Thou knowest what I mean.
There is not a look of vagueness upon the
young man’s face to whom the sad look is ad¬
dressed. It is even so, the young man with
auburn hair falling over his shoulders returns
the meaning look to that sad countenance
from which men hid their faces as though

How He Took Up His Cross 251
he were saying:

“I know what thou meanest, for thou hast
fulfilled the law and the prophets, and thou
regardest as not the least of the law this,
‘Honor thy father and thy mother; that thy
days may be long upon the land which the
Lord thy God giveth thee.’ This is the first
commandment with promise, and too thou hast
said, ‘The meek shall inherit the earth.’ Mas¬
ter, I see now why thou didst pass the severe
condemnation upon that which was said to be
Corban—a thing given to God or the temple
when the gift rightly belongs to the support of
the needy parent. My Lord, I see it all at a
glance now. I was very near thy heart at
the supper and at many other times, but now
thy mother whose heart is pierced through
with a sword is leaning upon me and I know.
Thou hast built the home about the sacredness
of mother—intertwining filial affection and
her pure, unfailing love, so making the home
secure.”

It is now about nine o’clock in the morn¬
ing and they are at the place of crucifixion.
The physical energies of the young prisoner
standing by the middle cross are so far spent
that he seems on the verge of a collapse. They
could not suffer this to be so. They must

252 The Silent Nazarene

strain his physical strength so he succumbs not
till they have inflicted the last item of suffer¬
ing their minds are capable of conjuring up.
They must offer him wine to stimulate, and
add myrrh to the wine so as to enhance its
effect in bracing and warming the system.
But he would have none of it. He knew
there was sufficient strength left to endure all
the suffering meted out to him by the cruel
torturers. They must come to the end of their
string—reach their limit and then have noth¬
ing more that they can do. But he must have
a clear, unclouded mind to drink the cup
the Father had given him. He would not
“cheapen his righteousness by making it safe”
by calling on Divine help, and surely he would
not accept relief from stimulants which have
covered multitudes of mortals with irretriev¬
able ruin.

But now they are turning his face away
from even looking upon his mother. They
strip him of his clothing, and the soldiers lay
him on the ground, and thrust the cross-beam
beneath his shoulders. Do they hesitate?
The crown of thorns has fallen from his brow
hot with the fever of physical agony and soul
anguish. Ah, they have bruised him and they
must pause to look upon him whom they have

How He Took Up His Cross 253

bruised. That look but maddens their rage.
Look, they replace the crown of thorns. But
listen. Ah, what is it? What, the ring of a
hammer on a nail? Yes, many rings fill the
heavy, choking air as they forge the spikes
through the palms of his hands at the extrem¬
ities of the cross-beam.

But be quiet! Hear! What spell has
come over that watching people? Is the air
too heavy to bear the sounds that they stand
mute? Ah, there arises from the midst of
that ringing and clanging of hammers and
nails, utterances laden with the sweetness of a
great soul; yes, sweetness that surpasses that
of the incense of the evening sacrifice. These
words come from the lips of him who is being
cruelly spiked to the beam of the (middle
cross: “Father, forgive them; for they know
not what they do.” Did high priest ever
bring a grander oblation to the altar than this
High Priest? What high priest has entered
back of the veil as he, and offered once for all,
his all in the Holy of Holies of humanity’s
temple? The incense of this oblation is an
odor of sweet smell filling humanity’s temple.
It melts the vilest sinner’s heart to repentance
and worshipful love. It lifts above the foul¬
ness of resenting snarl, and leads the sinner

254

The Silent Nazarene

face to face with the love of God. This love
either melts the stony heart, or lets him rave
as a dumb brute—slave to all that he con¬
fronts.

But now the ring of the hammers cease.
Why? Have they left off—are they repenting
of their dastardly work at hearing such a
prayer? See, the chief priests, and among
them many eminent Jews, are crowding close
to the victim. They have heard his prayer.
But their ears are heavy and they are quar¬
reling bitterly among themselves. Pilate has
commanded that a superscription of the ac¬
cusation of the victim be set up over his head.
It was written in Hebrew, and in Latin, and
in Greek, so that all who passed, no matter
from what quarter they be, could see and read.
These demagogues had a tight tussle with
Pilate this morning before coming to this
place. They were insistent on the governor,
saying, “Write not, The King of the Jews;
but, that he said, I am the King of the Jews.”
But they have played with Pilate too long.
For once he will have his way. He answers
them once for all, saying, “What I have writ¬
ten I have written.” Now these leaders are
at variance among themselves, for they are up
against it. The soldiers are raising the cross-

How He Took Up His Cross 255

beam with the victim spiked fast through his
hands at the extremities, and securely fixing
it to the upright pole which is already planted.
As he is being placed astride the wooden-peg
of the upright pole again the hammers ring,
for they are spiking his feet fast to that crude
pole. Now the superscription must be set up
as Pilate has commanded. “Ruthless mur¬
derers, you cannot always have your way.
You must give in here and rave. You cannot
even shun this. You must see and hear peo¬
ple from every quarter read it as they pass this
way. The governor would have it in the three
great languages so that no one would miss it.
This is the first measure that is being turned
back to you. The inevitable has its way.”

But now the soldiers have him securely
spiked to the cross, the crown of thorns is on
his head, and the superscription written
plainly in Hebrew, and in Latin, and in Greek
is set up over his head. These soldiers hav¬
ing performed their work turn to their lawful
booty as Roman soldiers. They take his gar¬
ments and make four parts, to every soldier
a part; and also the coat. Now the coat was
without seam, woven from the top throughout.
They say therefore to one another, “Let us not
rend it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be.”

256

The Silent Nazarene

“Soldier, you would not spoil a goodly gar¬
ment. You would rather that your comrade
have it if you yourself can not have it entire.
So in this way it will do some one good. You
are sensible in your rigid economy. But the
world that absorbs your interests and accrues
you good is confined to the garments the pris¬
oner wore. But here we must leave you and
turn to the suffering prisoner.”

There are standing by the cross his mother,
and his mother’s sister, and Mary Magdalene.
These women are grouped there with faces
full of the bitter anguish of their hard pressed,
suffering souls. Anguish is fiercely tearing
at the heart of the victim spiked to the cross.
He forgets the crown of thorns and the blood
trickling from his brow as he casts his eyes
down and surveys the motley crowd at the foot
of the cross. They are going here and there:
priest, Levite, scribe and lawyer, as well as
soldier, man of affairs, and those who have no
affairs but stand and gaze—all are mingling
and intermingling. But the eye of Jesus
rests upon one humble woman weeping at the
foot of the cross, and turning his eyes to the
young man with auburn hair upon whom this
anguish-smitten woman is leaning for support
he says unto his mother, “Woman, behold, thy

How He Took Up His Cross 257

son!” Bringing his eyes to rest upon his
mother again, he addresses his beloved disci¬
ple saying, “Behold, thy mother!” It were
as though he was saying unto John: “My be¬
loved disciple, see my mother weeping bitterly
there. Her heart is breaking beneath the
stress of this hour—a sword is piercing
through her soul. Thou knowest how care¬
fully I provided for her, and in what tender
regard I always held her. I made her a
home. Now take her into thine own home,
and treat her as thine own mother for my
sake.” (Great Christ, we thank thee for this
glimpse of tender human love; where Divine
love can meet the human without a taint of
lust.)

How beautifully the heart of that disciple
responds to that which forms the border-land
of earth to the spotless white soul of heaven.
“And from that hour the disciple took her
unto his own home.” “A loving trust, John,
the one that Jesus the Nazarene regarded so
dear to him while he spent those thirty quiet
years making sacred manual toil by his own
hands and spreading his godly benediction of
love over the home all those years. What a
peculiar privilege to stand so near the heart
of Christ as that.”

258

The Silent Nazarene

But nothing can hush the mockers’ taunts.
He must bear the torture as they pass by and
wag the heads, saying, “Thou that destroyest
the temple, and buildest it in three days, save
thyself: if thou art the Son of God come down
from the cross.” The chief priests wish to
press home to him what the rabble has been
saying in giving him such a timely challenge.
His position is both awkward and hopeless and
the boastful words he had spoken before he
came into this hour are as foolish babbling.
They must make him feel it. So they back
up the rabble saying, “He saved others; him¬
self he can not save.” Did these Jewish teach¬
ers mean to point out to that noisy rabble the
cardinal fact of the life of this Nazarene?
Hardly so, for hear! they continue, and their
thought as well as their words must fall down
even with that of the rabble—“He is the king
of Israel; let him now come down from the
cross, and we will believe on him. He trust-
eth on God; let him deliver him now, if he
desireth him: for he said, I am the son of
God.” So they of the rabble passing by wag¬
ging their heads join the rulers repeating the
challenge, “Let him save himself, if this is the
Christ of God, his chosen.” It is “Physician,
heal thyself.” (Had not Jesus told the disci-

How He Took Up His Cross 259

pies it would be so?) Now these mockers
cast it in his teeth when his body is at a high
pitch of fever and pain. He bears it all and
replies not to their harrowing taunts. The
brazen soldiers mock, offering him sour wine,
saying, “If thou art the King of the Jews, save
thyself.” Would even this Roman dare med¬
dle, saying, “Didst I not hear thee make thy
boasts what thou wouldst do when thou wert
before the high priest this morning? Thou
didst say something about coming on the
clouds of heaven. Now, then, thou hast a
chance to make good, if thou canst do it.”
Why should a soldier blurt out such things?
What does a Roman know about the signifi¬
cance of being the King of the Jews? Poor,
mocking wretch, he wanted to be in the push,
and thought it smart to jeer with the rest. He
is an all right fellow with the gang and must
show that he is a “good fellow.” Yes, he
heard the chief priests and the scribes sar¬
castically remark, “Let Christ, the King of
Israel, descend from the cross.” But listen;
he that hangs on the middle cross is mocked
even by the one on the left cross. This is a
thief who rails on him this time. He has a
little more reason for his conduct than has the
motley crowd at the foot of the cross, though

26 o

The Silent Nazarene

it is purely selfish, “Art not thou the Christ?
save thyself and us.” Poor, wretched, dying
thief, thou hast failed to catch the secret of
the spirit of the life of “the Christ” that saves.
J esus still is silent—not one resenting word es¬
capes his lips. He is master even now when
a vile wretch who is about to enter eternity
as a just recompense for his deeds turns his
railing voice on him without a cause, except
it be that he hears others mocking, and thinks
he may as well have it out on somebody in
ending his miserable existence.

Have all turned mockers—priests, scribes
and Pharisees, rulers, soldiers, common peo¬
ple, and even thief? No, be attentive, there
comes a scathing rebuke from the one who
hangs on the right-hand cross to the one who
vilely mocks from the cross on the left. A
thief speaks this time also, not only in fiery
denunciation and biting rebuke in face of such
unwarranted vileness, but in a humble rever¬
ential spirit he lifts his prayer out of his burn¬
ing needs to the One hanging upon the middle
cross. See—he turns his head and addresses
his fellow in like condemnation, saying, “Dost
thou not even fear God, seeing thou art in the
same condemnation? And we indeed justly;
for we receive the due reward of our deeds:

How He Took Up His Cross 261

but this man hath done nothing amiss.” It
were as though he were saying, “I am aston¬
ished at thee joining this band of mockers
against him who is innocent—even daring to
do so at this critical moment. Dost thou not
fear God since thou art hanging on that cross
justly? What right hast thou to ask to be
delivered from paying thy penalty?” At
this the thief hanging upon the right-hand
cross turns his face to the One crowned with
thorns and held in vile derision, and lifts up
his voice in a meek, petitioning spirit, saying,

“Jesus, remember me when thou comest in

*

thy kingdom.” (Had all others given up
hope that all was lost? certainly this thief
had not. No matter what others thought
this thief who keenly feels his own urgent
needs knows him as Lord and Saviour even
though nailed to the cross and physically
as helpless as the petitioning thief himself.
Even his disciples may go their way saying,
“We trusted that it had been he which should
have redeemed Israel.” (“But we were mis¬
taken.”) Such despondent sighing was not
the kind that could bind this thief in hope¬
less helplessness. But this thief in his ex-
tremest need knows that this is He who would
redeem the soul. If he did not believe this,

262

The Silent Nazarene

his petition would be meaningless, since he is
at the very brink of death, and he neither asks
nor expects to be delivered from physical death
either at that very hour.) Is the petitioner
disappointed? Does the One on the middle
cross to whom the petition is directed still keep
his lips sealed in silence? Was it not so all
through that jeering mockery? But was such
the case with the Nazarene when he walked
through the avenues of service ministering to
the needs of men? Will he be consistent with
his conduct then? Will he break his silence?
Here the needs of a wretched lost man is ap¬
pealing, and Christ opens his lips to meet those
needs. He towers above the agony of pain of
soul stress to give consolation to a soul that
has appealed in its extremest need. At last
one soul found the way the Christ was going,
and that soul met up with him before the
very door of death, and a thief too at that.
Ah, the words are very tender and mellow
with hope, “Verily I say unto thee, to-day
shalt thou be with me in Paradise.” How it
lifted the burden from off that soul, and
poured into the wounds of that violated con¬
science the healing oil of peace and consola¬
tion.

Now it was about three o’clock in afternoon

How He Took Up His Cross 263

and darkness came over the whole land and
continued until six o’clock.

Had this Man of sorrows and afflicted with
griefs forgotten the hard demands of his
agony? He may rise above excruciating pain
to think of the good and comfort of others;
but surely the body must succumb in time to
such exacting pressure. The soul may rise
above its crushing and stress in saving others,
but when the crashing avalanche moves on
even that soul too must be covered until the
crushing mass has ground and chiseled its
way over its groaning heart. Pressure with¬
out and stress within are at work upon the
great soul of Christ, as death is drawing its
ugly scowl over the face of things. Ah, the
shadow moves before it as the shadow before
the moving cloud. Physical agony intense;
fiendish cries of mockers fall upon his suffer¬
ing soul; insulting jeers from those very men
whom he sought to lead into the way of life.
Ingratitude as a ravishing beast bore down
heavily upon his soul, as he saw himself not
only forsaken but actually derided by those
upon whom he had poured blessings as re¬
freshing showers. The curtains of loneliness
rolled down thick and heavy. It seemed as
though the very heavens are closing in upon

264

The Silent Nazarene

him as a great prison-cell of brass. Nothing
was there to relieve the tension. Out of the
depths of such sublime loneliness he cries
with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lama
sabachthani? that is, My God, my God, why
hast thou forsaken me.”

Is it posible that everything must crush in
upon such a soul, so full of innocence and love.
Is the Universe conspiring together in one
sweep of accumulated power to blot it out?
All desertion and suffering is as naught if he
can keep his mind unclouded, fixed upon the
mind of Heaven, but when the body is ema¬
ciated and the spirit is so completely crushed
down with that which the bodily thrusts in
upon it without mercy or sparing, filling it
hot with anguish, the sufferer is forced to
reckon with these things. Physical strength
after the natural order must give. It forces
its demands.

He opens his quivering lips. He has en¬
dured and suffered this stinging, breaking an¬
guish for a long while and now it forces ut¬
terance. He didn’t intend to let it pass his
lips, either—but it is not a complaint, some¬
how it has forced itself out, “I thirst.” (This
is so with all the crucified. He suffers thirst
as he was flesh and suffered all the while. He

How He Took Up His Cross 265

told us this to make sure we understood.)
H as that soldier who has mocked any pity
now? Ah, he runs, dips a sponge in sour
wine, places it on the end of a reed and lifts
it to the lips of the suffering Man. When he
tastes the sour wine he says, “It is finished.”
“My work is finished and all the suffering that
is portioned therewith.”

Now the thick veiled cloud begins to with¬
draw its shadow from his soul. The whole
burden is shifted. His work is completed.
It all rests with God. “Father, into thy hands
I commend my spirit”; and saying this he
gives up the ghost.

The veil of the temple is rent in two from
the top to the bottom—the Holy Place and the
Holy of Holies become one great Holy Place
for this great High Priest has entered back of
the veil once for all and has sprinkled his own
blood upon the mercy-seat—rending the veil
in twain.

The sun covers his face as with sackcloth.
In the midst of the darkness the earth sends
forth a shudder that shakes the insolent crea¬
tures of her lap as though to say—Were it not
for the love of him who prayed for them who
were spiking him to the tree, she would swal¬
low them up into the depth of her bowels that

266

The Silent Nazarene

they might never more mar her fair forms and
cover her with revolting shame and ignominy.
The blood of this Man rests mid thick dark¬
ness upon the heads of the mockers.

In the midst of this awful frown of Nature,
do you hear even the centurion who is over
that band of mocking soldiers who did the
crucifying, say (All are consenting with him),
“Certainly this was a righteous man.” That
centurion and they that were with him watch¬
ing Jesus must make it even more emphatic
mid the tremors of the chiding, outraged
earth, saying, “Truly this was the Son of God.”

VI

HOW HE CAME FORTH AGAIN

*

f

THEY BAR HIS TOMB

“And all the multitudes that came together
to this sight, when they beheld the things that
were done, returned smiting their breasts, and
all his acquaintance, and the women that fol¬
lowed with him from Galilee, stood afar off,
seeing these things.”

J ESUS the Nazarene has died. Some
hearts are bleeding and open as the deep
silence stretches itself across the brow of mor¬
tal things. The women linger still about the
cross. There two men go with bowed heads,
talking with each other. They are of the rul¬
ers. Others of the crowd are dispersing here
and there—some with heads bowed and de¬
jected, and some wearing a proud scorn upon
their countenance. These are saying some¬
thing about it being the Sabbath on the mor¬
row and it would not be lawful to let the
bodies hang on the crosses. These, with
scorning brows, are headed in the direction of
the two men with dejected countenance. Those

269

270

The Silent Nazarene

two sorrowing men are wearing garments sim¬
ilar to those of them who are muttering un¬
der their breath about it being the Sabbath on
the morrow. These men of sad countenance
are Jewish officers—members of the Sanhe¬
drin. They are headed for Pilate’s palace.
Nicodemus counsels with Joseph of Ari-
mathaea, saying, “When you go in to ask
Pilate for the body I will do what I can to as¬
sist you.” As these goodly men come into
the presence of the governor and Joseph
makes his request, Pilate marvels, saying,
“Yes, if he be dead already?” Pilate calls in
the centurion but he wishes to avoid leaving
any hint that he doubts for a moment the
veracity of this most noble Jewish ruler. He
just wishes to ascertain how long a time he
has been dead—whether it had been any great
while. He is now convinced, and grants the
corpse to Joseph. These two sad men depart,
having secured their object. Scarcely are
they gone when the others come to ask that
the bodies should not remain on the cross upon
the Sabbath (for the day of that Sabbath was
a high day). They ask Pilate that their legs
might be broken, and the bodies taken away.

The watch at the cross stir as the soldiers
from the governor arrive. A soldier lifts his

How He Came Forth Again 271

spear and touches the quivering flesh of the
thief on the left of the middle cross. There
is a sudden twitch, and a sigh comes from
the fevered lips. Then with a brutal blow
of the hammer he breaks the legs, and the vic¬
tim yields a groan and drops his head in death.
Then they approach the thief on the right and
break his legs; but merely a passing sigh es¬
capes as his spirit flees to Paradise to join his
Lord, who is waiting to receive him there.
When they come to the middle cross they see
that he is dead already, and brake not his legs.
Pilate could not believe his ears when told
by Joseph that Jesus was already dead. And
is it so that this soldier can not believe his
eyes? He saw that he was dead already and
brake not his legs; howbeit the soldier with
a spear pierced his side, “and straightway
there came out blood and water.” He is dead
—of that the soldier is certain now, or did he
do the thing out of sheer brutality? That is
a question. But how about the blood and
water that straightway came out of his pierced
side? See if there be any sorrow like unto
his sorrow? Did he not tell the chosen three
in the garden, “My soul is exceeding sorrow¬
ful even unto death?” Could his heart be
breaking under all these experiences which

272

The Silent Nazarene

call out more than human endurance, and his
great heart not be broken so that he gave up
the ghost? Surely he died of a broken heart
and when the soldier pierced his side straight¬
way there came out blood and water. Not a
bone of him is broken. They look on him
whom they pierced. So the scripture is ful¬
filled. They must wonder what manner of
man this is.

But those who would not brave his rescue
while alive, now take him from the cross. In
spotless linen his body is wound, and borne
by tender hands to the peaceful garden nearby,
to the new hewn tomb in the rock; yes, a tomb
in which man had never yet lain. Here they
laid the body of this great Teacher in Israel
to whom Nicodemus came by night to inquire
the way of life. “Ah, Nicodemus, thou didst
behold this blood-thirsty transaction on the
part of thy comrades. How couldst thou help
but seal it with an act showing thy disap¬
proval, if not disgust? What of the spices
that thou didst bring as a token of the high
regard in which thou didst hold this Nazarene
teacher?” Ah, the sweet fragrance of the
spices that are wound in the linen with the
body is but a hint of the sweetness of the life
that has gone into paradise. Yes, Mary’s ala-

How He Came Forth Again 273

baster cruse was but the breaking of a heart
over full of love to pour it out in profusion
upon the one whom she loved. Jesus then
said, “She has wrought a good work. She has
done this against the day of my burial.” Truly
this day the heart of Jesus was broken, like
the alabaster cruse to pour his love in profu¬
sion upon the world. This fragrance of the
love of Christ bursts forth from his tomb, fill¬
ing the world with resplendent hope, even
that from the full flower of the resurrection.
But how little these knew of that this day.
Is the Sun lowering as the forms as mute as
statues are moving from the lonely garden?
Joseph rolls a great stone to the mouth of the
sepulchre, and departs. The faithful women
are still sitting over against the sepulchre.
They are noting carefully how everything is
done. They have not paid their last tribute
yet. The sun is casting its last gleams on
yonder heights of hanging cliffs. It is time
to withdraw, for the sinking sun ushers in
the Sabbath. Yes, night rolls down her thick,
black curtains, shrouding the scene of that
day’s tragedy from the sight of mortal eye.
From hence forth it must live in the imagina¬
tions of men; in some pale as a misty halo, in
others acutely vivid. Yes, night shrouded the

274

The Silent Nazarene

deserted in exceeding quiet, that the weary,
broken body of the Master might sleep and
rest from its manifold labors, and the pressing,
yes, crushing strain of this tragedy of trage¬
dies, for this body had to hold the suffering
of the greatest soul that ever inhabited mortal
flesh. No wonder it was racked and broken.
How could it suffer with such a soul without
bursting beneath the strain? Well could the
night cover it with its sheltering wings that it
might peacefully rest. The restless multitude
seeking some sign could not crowd in here,
and break this peaceful slumber; neither
could those craving ambition disturb his
quiet rest; no, not even those who sought the
teacher could wake him from his pillow; ah,
the disciples are full of fears and apprehen¬
sions but they can not wake him now and have
him quiet them. Yes, now their hearts are
overflowing with the floods of sorrows, but
they must remember what he has said, for
they can not walk to his couch and ask him for
comfort now. Then, too, the jealousy of the
treacherous Pharisee dare not snatch away any
of his peaceful moments now; they can’t
thrust themselves in upon him and break his
slumber now; their wily devices can not en¬
trap him so that he needs to withdraw from

How He Came Forth Again 275

his native land. Ah, he sleeps unmolested
right in the heart of it now. What can ex¬
ceed the sublime grandeur about the silent
tomb of Christ as restful quiet wraps this
lonely spot, where rests the broken frame of
Christ from the mad fury that has just sub¬
sided by the closing of his eyes in the gentle
sleep of death that none dare break. Yes, the
hush of raving mortals is very quiet and still
beneath the cover of that night when suns,
moons and planets could well be veiled from
the face of the earth. The earth could well
drape her face in a deep veil both to hide her
blushing forms from the rest of the universe,
and to conceal her mourning countenance
from the stare and the gaze of the shining
worlds about her: what can atone for her rav¬
ing mortals; what can replace the purest that
has been snatched from her bosom?

But the rising sun must disperse her lin¬
gering, drooping clouds, for it must lay bare
more of the folly of mortals that was heatedly
concocting that very night. The chief priests
and the Pharisees! are come together unto
Pilate that Sabbath morning. For what?
Can not their jealous ravings cease when they
have crushed the life from out the body? But
hear what these men say in petitioning the

27 6

The Silent Nazarene

governor: “Sir, we remember that that de¬
ceiver said, while he was yet alive, ‘After
three days I shall rise again.’ Command
therefore that the sepulchre be made sure until
the third day, lest his disciples come by night
and steal him away, and say unto the people,
‘He is risen from the dead’; so that the last
error shall be worse than the first.” Dare
Pilate, who had been so wrought up and en¬
slaved by this very voice the day before still
continue to commit himself? Hear him
speak for himself, “Ye have a watch; go your
way, make it as sure as you can.” Was Pilate
afraid he would be made ridiculous, should
the body disappear out of its place, or did the
fear of the multitude still lash him?

But pray, how could these pious Jews ask
for a watch upon the Sabbath day, and ap¬
proach a Roman at that to offer their plea?
How could they violate what they had so scru¬
pulously guarded? Was not this very thing
the chief charge brought against the Naza-
rene? Was it not in this that they persistently
tried to entrap him? “Inconsistent mortals,
why wade through and trample under foot
scruples whenever it suits and is convenient
to do so? It more unclothes your mad jeal¬
ousy, and lays bare your real motive that mur-

How He Came Forth Again 277

dered this great Teacher who not only rose
above you, but by his very life made your
hollow formalism ineffective and caused it to
lose its grip upon the hearts of men. In the
death grapple you are doing desperate things.
But your hold is lost and you are surely sink¬
ing, and that very fast, pulling your complex
niceties into the grave with you. In your
madness you have just made it possible for
this Man’s power to take the world.”

Lo, what is entering the gate? Do you see
the Sun gleaming upon shields and lances? It
is the guard to make sure the sepulchre. See
those dignified Pharisees, whose haughty bear¬
ing is crying everywhere, “Touch me not; I
am holier than thou.” See those demagogues
violate the Sabbath even beyond the asking
for a watch. They can’t trust the sealing of
the rock to the soldier guard, but they must
go and seal it with their own hands. Why is
not the watch sufficient without a sealing of
the rock in the mouth of the sepulchre? What
friend would dare brave these Roman soldiers
to steal the body away? “Ah, Pharisee, a rest¬
less suspicion is all over you. You can’t trust
yourselves. You feel as if you are not done
with this Man yet. You do not know how to
put aside this dread that is overawing you.

278 The Silent Nazarene

You are constantly apprehending alarm.
Something forces you to look for something
to happen on the third day; something to take
place that will make you ridiculous in the eyes
of men. Folly, folly, unbridled folly, to seal
the grave to keep Christ in. This Man has
walked over all your follies up to this time and
he will walk over this one also; yes, he will
walk out of this grave sealed with mortal’s
folly. How long will ye hold the instru¬
ments of death gleaming in the brightness of
the sun in bold defiance to the hand of Heaven
and to the decrees of right?”

The Resurrection

As Night rolls back her curtains upon that
Sabbath in which the Prince of Glory slept to
rest his weary broken frame, and it begins to
dawn towards the first day of the week, new
light breaks gently upon the world—Jesus
comes forth from the grave. This Jesus has
put all under his feet and now he wraps the
shroud of death about the empty tomb. Yes,
the earth must tremble as the hand of heaven
cuts asunder the bars of death. Ah, a mighty
quaking and a shudder runs through the
earth as Heaven opens her door to let her angel

How He Came Forth Again 279

down to roll away the stone that mortal hands
have sealed into the mouth of the tomb in
which the frame of Christ had slept. Yes,
Heaven’s messenger descends, rolls back the
stone and sits upon it; as if to say, “The door
of death is open, and open forever, for Heaven
has placed immortality right over it. What
mortal madness dare shut it, while Heaven’s
messenger with shining countenance like
lightning, and raiment as white as snow,
stands guard over it. See the keepers who
have stood guard over the sealed tomb, shake
because of him. What a fear falls over them.
It is as the pall of death itself. Ah, verily,
they become as dead men. As the hand of
Heaven is blinding their eyes that they might
not look upon the spotless form of Christ,
there is something exceedingly strange to mor¬
tals taking place within that tomb, Christ is
rising from his rock-hewn couch as from the
peaceful slumbers of the night. It is an early
rising that morning, of all the earth’s the best.
He places the linen clothes to themselves, and
folds the napkin in its place; he makes his bed
ere he leaves his chamber where sweet slum¬
ber has refreshed his wasted frame. By so
doing he tells mortals not to dread this couch;
but lay themselves down for peaceful rest till

28 o

The Silent Nazarene

they awake in the eternal morning of immor¬
tality. Yes, Jesus walks out from the tomb as
undisturbed as one who walks from his couch
after peaceful slumbers. He is ready to greet
his friends he meets that morning.

But let us see. What of the guard? Heaven
lifts the pall of fear which had made their
bodies as rigid as though in death. They re¬
cover from their paralysis, and hasten to the
city to tell the chief priests all the things that
were done. Where is human folly now?
Has it not been enough already? Have not
mortals been entangled deeply enough in its
meshes? But lo, they assemble, chief priests
and elders. For what? To stifle this which
they could not cut down with death? What
madness? Yes, to try to make a hush with a
lie? Inconsistent mortals, you are fanning
the flame. Hear them as they whisper confi¬
dentially to the members of that guard: “Say
ye, His disciples came by night, and stole him
away while we slept. And if this come to the
governor’s ears, we will persuade him, and
secure you.” Is it possible that the chief
priests and elders were so sure they could do
anything they pleased with the Roman gover¬
nor? They know they have him, and they
can ask anything of him, even the lives of un-

28 i

How He Came Forth Again

faithful Roman soldiers. What would Caesar
say about this if it came to his ears? But
Pilate was unmanned and these Jewish offi¬
cers knew it. They knew they could tie his
hand whenever they were pleased to do so.
So they gave large money unto the soldier.
These poor, blind wretches, puppets of the
wily hands of crafty rulers, took the money,
and did as they were taught; and this saying
is commonly reported among the Jews until
this day; and to this day, too, though these
very Jews are scattered to the very corners of
the earth, whilst this Man against whom they
raised this lie is taking the world.

The Waiting

The darkness rests on Olive’s brow as
though the peace of earth has knit its brows
in one great solemn thought. Does this great
peaceful spot now wear a scowl? Or are
hearts clothed in deep reflection turning to
this sacred place where Christ was wont to
kneel in secret prayer?

The restful Sabbath breaks? The innocent
toiler from his plow may rest his weary frame,
but ere last night’s setting sun hasted to dip
itself in the great blue billows of the sea those

282

The Silent Nazarene

who lost their all must wait in grief as the
great sun slowly climbs the heavens and there
at zenith height it seems to stand and mock
the hurried fears of anxious, restless mortals
who constantly turn to see it in the west but
painfully slow is its descent from its throne
to the great surging billows of the deep. But
sink he must though he may seem to press a
lagging year within his daily path.

Night hangs heavy about three faithful
women’s hearts. The spices were made ready
ere the sun went down on yesterday’s sad
tragedy. Night’s veil lingered as if some
giant drone now held his sluggish hand upon
the curtain and refused to be roused from out
his drowsy slumbers.

At the end of the Sabbath as it begins to
dawn toward the first day of the week; as the
countless forms begin to creep from out the
shadows, three faithful women turn toward
a peaceful garden. They move as quietly as
the light and darkness move across their wait¬
ing hearts. But now they speak, “Who shall
roll us away the stone from the door of the
sepulchre?” They turn into the garden as
the sun is just rising from out the chambers
of the night. “What, O Sun, to witness faith¬
ful women anointing the body of their sacred

How He Came Forth Again 283

dead?” Ah, faithful women, look. The
stone is rolled away, though it is very great.
You have prepared the spices. Heaven says,
It is enough; your feeble strength may not be
able to do more; nay, not even roll this stone
away. Heaven requires this not of you. The
hand of Heaven will unseal, and roll away the
stone of your difficulty every time if you will
but go forward and do what you can. But if
you falter and lament the grave will remain
sealed before your face. Enter the tomb, O
Faithful, for there Heaven’s messenger awaits
you.”

Lo, it is so. A young man in white now
speaks: “Be not amazed. Ye seek Jesus,
the Nazarene, who hath been crucified: he is
risen; he is not here. Behold the place
where they laid him.” The message was
given to the women from the mouth of
Heaven, now they were to go and bear it to
the disciples. An angel bids mortal man to
serve. “But go tell his disciples and Peter.
He goeth before you into Galilee; there shall
ye see him, as he said unto you.” But these
messengers are mortal still. Well is it that
Heaven leaves them so. They go out, and
flee from the tomb; a trembling and astonish¬
ment had come upon them. They say noth-

284

The Silent Nazarene

ing to any one, for they were afraid. Did
the message stop at the empty tomb? Had
Heaven paralysed earth in seeking to give
the message direct? Was all to stop at this
gateway hopeless, though transcendent hope
had entered through it into the world?
Where mortal vision ends, did not Heaven
forge the link that would make the chain com¬
plete? Did not God see its need, and put it
in its proper place? He who trusts will be
content to pass the mortal shadows till he sees
the Christ who has passed that way. Let us
see how Mary Magdalene saw the Christ,
and how she quickly bore the message to others
of mortal kind.

The lingering Mary stands without the
tomb and weeps. She stoops and looks within
and sees the angel vision, but still an empty
tomb to her. “Woman, why weepest thou?”
is the question from angel lips within the
empty vault. The heart is the mouth in giv¬
ing answer to this question. “Because they
have taken away my Lord, and I know not
where they have laid him.” But turn, Mary,
a stranger is at your side—the gardener?
Surely he can answer well the question you
seek to know. Hear, he speaks: “Woman,
why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?”

285

How He Came Forth Again

“Mary, why not ask this questioner who he
is? But no, your own question is too burning
for that. You don’t care to know who the
living might be that address you; you only
care to know where the body of a dead friend
is. You take it for granted that this is the
gardener. There is no cowering weakness in
the sadness that prevails, but majestic strength
that seeks to claim its own. This Mary is not
afraid to ask him to restore her sacred dead to
its proper resting place: “Sir, if thou hast
borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid
him, and I will take him away.” But listen,
this stranger simply says, “Mary,” and she
turns herself, and says, “Rabboni.” By a
single word-accent the riddle is solved, the
question is answered, the mystery is unveiled;
she knows her Lord. Her first impulse is to
touch him, and worship him. Was it not he
that had come to her when steeped in sin to
meet her greatest needs, and now he pulls
back the veil and lets her look upon the im¬
mortal, arrayed in its spotless purity. It is a
precious glimpse; but hear!

“Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended
unto my Father.” Is the mortal not to touch
the immortal pure lest the mortal enter the
immortal pure ere the message is borne to

286

The Silent Nazarene

others of mortal kind. The Same who bids
Mary not touch him bids her go tell the dis¬
ciples. “But go unto my brethren, and say
to them, I ascend unto my Father, and your
Father; and to my God and your God.” It
were as though he said: “Mary, this can’t
stop with a touch, neither can it stay with the
things of the flesh; the work is not done yet;
yes, it must end in God. And God is a Spirit.
Have I not been constantly leading you so?
Spiritual things are not to be touched as you
in the flesh are so prone to think. Would you
understand this mystery, then first carry the
message as best you can to my brethren who
are mortal as you are, for otherwise you would
not be able to bear the message to them.” And
so the message goes when each has finished
his work and ascends with Christ, and leaves
the message with mortal kind still to tell.

To tell her message, Mary speeds;

Inspired by Christ who knew her needs.

O what a lonely walk. Two walking to¬
gether and are sad. They have a common
cause for sorrow. For listen, they are softly
whispering to each other. Yes, they are ques¬
tioning together. Do you hear now and then

How He Came Forth Again 287

a troubled accent that betrays a very perplex¬
ing situation? Lo, now there is a stranger
drawing near. They are too busily engaged
in conversation to notice him. But now they
stand still and look sad. This stranger speaks:
“What manner of communications are these
that ye have one with another, as ye walk?”
Ah, they are amazed at such ignorance. Why,
it is the talk of everybody. It is the topic of
the day everywhere about Jerusalem. “Dost
thou sojourn alone in Jerusalem, and knowest
not the things which are come to pass there in
these days?” “What things?” the stranger
asks. Ah, these men are very earnest in this
matter. “Certainly, if you would even have
overheard any one you would have heard of
“The things concerning Jesus the Nazarene,
who was a prophet mighty in deed and word
before God and all the people; and how the
chief priests and our rulers delivered him up
to be condemned to death, and crucified him.”
Yes, do these men falter here? Lo, now they
wish to tell this stranger what interest they
had in this sad tragedy. “But we hoped it
was he who should redeem Israel.” “Yes, and
certain women who were at the tomb early
this morning say they saw a vision of angels
who told them that he is risen. And certain

288

The Silent Nazarene

of them that were with us went to the tomb,
and found it empty, his body being not there,
just as the women had said, but him they saw
not.”

At this point the stranger takes up the
thread of the subject of the conversation and
begins to unravel it from the tangled meshes
of perplexities of both heart and reason. He
addresses them sternly but kindly, even rebuk¬
ing them for their slowness of heart, saying,
“O foolish men, and slow of heart to believe
in all that the prophets have spoken! Be¬
hooved it not the Christ to suffer these things,
and to enter into his glory?” The look of ex¬
pectancy marks the faces of these men as they
look into the face of that stranger and listen
to his wonderful words, expounding to them
the mystery of the Christ. This stranger con¬
vinces them as he proceeds, beginning from
Moses and from all the prophets, that he
has the secret of interpretation of all the scrip¬
tures concerning the mystery of the Christ,
who was to suffer all these things they had seen
and about which they were troubled and sad,
and naturally should enter into his glory as
reported by the vision of angels to the women
who were early at the tomb.

As the stranger is expounding to them the

How He Came Forth Again 289

way of the Christ and they are amazed at his
discerning insight as he talks with them in
the way they draw nigh unto the village,
whither they are going. Wrapt in thought
they are standing before their door, but the
stranger who is talking with them is moving
on. But they can not leave this stranger go;
he is so interesting and then it is near evening.
So they constrain him, saying, “Abide with us;
for it is toward evening, and the day is far
spent.” He goes in to abide with them. What
a welcome they give this stranger! They look
forward to hear more good things of him that
evening. His marvelous wisdom has set their
cravings on edge. The evening meal is spread
and what a feast of good things they will have
in the fellowship together at that meal! When
he is sat down with them to meat he takes the
bread and blesses it; and breaking it gives to
them. Their eyes are open, and they know
him, and he vanishes out of their sight. What
a dreadful silence falls all about that table.
They are facing each other in amazement.
But they are seeing the face of their risen
Lord only. That awful spell of solemn si¬
lence! What can break it? Can they find
words for utterance? They are speaking one
to the other, “Was not our hearts burning

290

The Silent Nazarene

within us, while he spake to us in the way,
while he opened to us the scriptures?”

At that very hour they rise up and return to
Jerusalem, where they find the disciples gath¬
ered together for strange reports are current
this day. Here they find this little group wait¬
ing before God in prayer. They who have
been slow of heart to believe in all the proph¬
ets have spoken concerning the sufferings of
the Christ through which he must needs enter
into his glory, are come to the waiting disci¬
ples with a message direct from the lips of the
risen Lord himself. They rehearse the things
that happened in the way, and how he was
known to them in the breaking of the bread.

But now the evening is fully come, and the
doors are shut where the disciples are assem¬
bled, for fear of the Jews. They are waiting
in awe because of the strange things that were
told the inner circle during that first day of
the week and at the falling of the shadows of
eventide. As they wait on God in solemn
silence Jesus stands in the midst of them, say¬
ing, “Peace be unto you.” When they heard
this being mute with silence, he showed them
his hands and his side. “The disciples there¬
fore were glad, when they saw the Lord.” It
is a glad hour. Jesus lifts his hands to repeat

How He Came Forth Again 291

his benediction upon them, saying, “Peace be
unto you: as the Father hath sent me, even so
send I you.” After joining the benediction
and the commission, forging and welding all
into one moving spirit of that little group, he
breathes upon them, saying, “Receive ye the
Holy Spirit.”

But the record states this also, “But Thomas,
one of the twelve, called Didymus, was not
with them when Jesus came.” It is not strange
that when the other disciples meet up with
him that they should tell their message, “We
have seen the Lord.” But Thomas has heard
many such like reports here of late. He has
given them no credence, and very little atten¬
tion. He is very positive in the stand he has
taken regarding such tales that are being told
even by men who ought to exercise more cau¬
tion in such matters. So he replies that his
words might be final and they would not an¬
noy him further with such reports. “Except
I shall see in his hands the print of the nails,
and put my finger into the print of the nails,
and put my hand into his side, I will not be¬
lieve.”

“Thomas, you are not satisfied with the
words of your staunch, tried friends. You
must investigate for yourself—you must han-

292

The Silent Nazarene

die and see. Will Heaven grant the demands
of this peculiar set bias of your nature? It
looks as though Heaven will refuse you—a
whole week has passed, leaving you battling
with your doubts as seriously as ever.”

Upon the eighth day Heaven takes up the
challenge. The disciples again are within
the closed doors but Thomas is with them this
time. But quiet is not reigning as was the
case on the eve of eight days ago. There is a
spirited talk on. Thomas is in a heated debate
with the other disciples, “You say He showed
you so much proof. Eight days have passed
and things are as they were the day he died.
Furthermore I expect the coming days to dif¬
fer in nowise from the eight days that have
passed since the report was made current that
He is risen from the dead, except that these
tales will cease.”

There is a hush. A familiar voice speaks
in a familiar way, for Jesus is standing in the
midst, saying, “Peace be unto you.” Was he
present when Thomas made the challenge
eight days ago? Flow is it that he has it so
exact? “Reach hither thy finger, and see my
hands; and reach hither thy hand, and put it
into my side: and be not faithless, but believ¬
ing.” Thomas answers in reverential awe:

How He Came Forth Again 293

“My Lord and my God.” Jesus speaks. He
would not rebuke the disciple before him in
worshipping reverence, he simply would have
him understand the way of blessedness. “Be¬
cause thou hast seen me, thou hast believed;
blessed are they that have not seen, and yet
have believed.”

Have all these testified that he is risen. Let
us hear another witness—let Paul speak for
himself: “For I delivered unto you first of
all that which also I received: that Christ died
for our sins according to the scriptures; and
that he was buried; and that he hath been
raised on the third day according to the scrip¬
tures; and that he appeared to Cephas; then
to the twelve; then he appeared to above five
hundred brethren at once, of whom the
greater part remain until now, but some are
fallen asleep; then he appeared to James;
then to all the apostles; and last of all, as to
a child untimely born, he appeared to me
also.” |

How did Paul see Jesus? He saw the risen
and glorified Christ that changed him from
a relentless and bitter persecutor of the church
into the most faithful and zealous of the apos¬
tles. Even on his way to make havoc of the
church, while he yet was breathing out threat-

294

The Silent Nazarene

ening slaughter against the disciples of Jesus,
he saw the Lord against whom he was lifting
his hand stained with the blood of the martyr
Stephen. In whatever form he saw his Lord
of this one thing the world knows, that from
that very hour he became the most steadfast
of all the apostles, and that through him Chris¬
tianity broke the narrow bounds of Judaism
and spread as an irresistible leaven to leaven
the whole world. Thus this man became the
“Apostle to the Gentiles.” Through this man
with a world vision all subsequent history of
the church is changed, and this was the very
man who sought to wipe the church from off
the face of the earth before he saw his Lord.
Where does he hinge all his extraordinary
faith that is responsible for his unparalleled
conduct? Let us hear him speak, for we will
surely grant that he is authority in this matter.
“For if the dead are not raised, neither hath
Christ been raised: and if Christ hath not been
raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your
sins.” He meets this irresistible logic by stat¬
ing what he knows to be fact. “But now hath
Christ been raised from the dead.” Over this
fact stern logic and faith clasp hands and the
great Apostles shout: “The first fruits of them
that are asleep.” This made him the invinci-

295

How He Carrie Forth Again

ble apostle that he was, and gave his message
the authority that would brook no opposition
—“Christ lives in me” seizes the prey out of
the jaws of death.

But there is the apostle who before his Mas¬
ter was crucified was so certain that he was
ready to go to death with him, but denied with
cursing and swearing when pressed and closely
questioned as to his relation to the Galilean
prisoner who was on trial before Caiaphas.
It would be interesting to know something of
him in this connection. Every one of that little
band left the foot of the cross Friday afternoon
with crushed ambitions and dejected hopes,
and Peter was no exception mid these trying
circumstances. But we are told that of the
disciples Peter is second only to John, and that
because the latter outran him, in arriving at
the empty tomb on the morning of the third
day. We are told that Peter is the first to
boldly enter and investigate the empty tomb.
It is Peter who stands up boldly on the day
of Pentecost and preaches the living Christ
so that as a result of that sermon there are
three thousand souls added to them. But the
most outstanding feature of all in the conduct
of this man is that a strict, stringent, strong¬
headed Jew should utter words like these:

296

The Silent Nazarene

“Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter
of persons: but in every nation he that feareth
Him, and worketh righteousness, is acceptable
to Him.” This is a long way to come for a
disciple who would thrust from his Master a
Syrophoenician mother who had come to
plead in behalf of her demented daughter.
And too this disciple boldly defends his con¬
duct for so acting toward Cornelius, a cen¬
turion of the Italian band at Caesarea, when
called to give an account of himself to the
apostles and brethren of the Jerusalem
Church, saying, “And as I began to speak, the
Holy Spirit fell on them, even as on us at the
beginning.” Read carefully the written word
and see whether it did not take the risen Lord
to do work like that with Simon Peter whom
before upon the testimony of Jesus himself
Satan was desiring to sift as wheat.

The Shepherd has been smitten and the
sheep have been scattered; but now the voices
of these very men, who have rallied about an
empty tomb cannot be silenced by raging per¬
secutions. What strange thing has come to
pass that should cast such a spell over them
that would not wear away; but grow firmer as
the devouring, bloody sword entered with such
havoc among them? Why should they catch

How He Came Forth Again 297

the spirit of the Master now and wade through
blood for Him and that for which He stood
alone when in earth; when before (even
though with Him) they wish to call down
fire to consume insolent Samaritans who re¬
fused to give them shelter? How changed?
They are ready to die for Jew, Samaritan,
Greek, and Roman, no matter how hot perse¬
cution waxes. They lay the head upon the
block without a murmur except it be a whis¬
pered prayer for persecutors; they walk to
the cross without offering the least opposition,
but count it a glory to lay down their life for
the Lord Jesus. The prayer of the martyr for
the murderers who are staining their hands
with the innocent blood—“Lord, lay not this
sin to their charge,” surely marks a change
in the course of all things. What new spirit
has taken hold of these men that they should
die in such a heroic—such a godlike manner?
These men could fight with beasts, laugh at
the fagot and flaming torch, because of their
faith.

Why? What occurred on the morning of
the third day after that great Teacher in Israel
had been put to death? No art, or cunning, or
wisdom can bury the witness to this great
event, for it is living all about us. If you can

298

The Silent Nazarene

get a man big enough to blow out the life of
the world, he might blow out this flame also.
But until such a man is found this flame will
spread regardless of all talks of the “isms.” If
you can sweep the conscience of every soul
bare you might sweep this out. But where is
the man that can scour God out of this world
in this manner? If that man is in this gener¬
ation let him come forth and try his hand. If
he can make good he will stand forth; if not
he must step back into the ranks of the rest of
the foiled ones with their “isms.” Whatever
we think of it, the question of the Almighty
to Job is as timely and pertinent as ever:
“Shall he that contendeth with the Almighty
instruct Him?” Truth is truth, and to tear
the soul out of it is to tear the soul out of the
world. Can the product of all the ages be up¬
rooted? Can the heart be torn out of this gen¬
eration, for the heart is pulsating strong and
very strong through the faith of the fathers
who went the blood-stained way of the cross?
The challenge of Gamaliel is still open to
those who would contend against this way.
“Ye men of Israel, take heed to yourselves
what ye intend to do as touching these
men. . .

“And now I say unto you, refrain from these

How He Came Forth Again 299

men, and let them alone: for if this counsel
or this work be of men, it will come to naught;
But if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it;
lest haply ye be found even to fight against
God.” Has the world seen Gamaliel’s judg¬
ment vindicated?

The world will outgrow much; but it can¬
not outgrow its soul. Christ breathes his spirit
of loving service and of unselfish devotion to
the truth into man and man becomes a living
soul—a new creature fashioning into the like¬
ness of the Son of God Himself.

On Olive’s sunlit crown the little group is
assembled and the Master is in the midst.
There he renews the promise to them, saying,
“Ye shall receive power, when the Holy
Spirit is come upon you.” In the full beam
of light out of the great promise he charges
them with the great commission, saying, “Go
ye therefore, and make disciples of all nations,
baptizing them into the name of the Father
and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” He
closes the greatj charge with another great
promise which is a radiant beam of white
light—“Lo, I am with you always, even unto
the end of the world.” He lifts his hands
to pray his benediction upon them as he was
wont to do, but this time he was received into a

3 00

The Silent Nazarene

cloud out of their sight.

They must walk by faith and not by sight.
Faith must be as actual as sight if they are to
plant this “new teaching” in the hearts of men.
To have dynamic to do effectual work they
must be in living unity with the Master they
knew. As Paul interprets, saying, “I have
been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer
I that live, but Christ liveth in me; and that
life which I now live in the flesh I live in
faith, the faith which is in the Son of God,
who loved me, and gave himself up for me.”
Christ’s grip on the life of God wells up in
the life of Paul. Christ is God living in Paul.
Christ is all Paul knows of God. Christ by
his supreme faith translates God into the
heart of his disciple by living in the heart.
Hence the creed, and the only creed “every
tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is
Lord/' He is God for us. Even as the Teach¬
er has made plain to us that he is our Lord,
saying, “Neither doth any man know the
Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever
the Son willeth to reveal him.”

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