* 

,':" 







^'■n^p 



y^m 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 




A7td his face did shine as the sun " iMatt, xvii. 2) . . • Frontispiece 



Brighter than the Sun-. 



OR, 



€l9n^t tj^e ligl^t of tl^e movXb. 



A LIFE OF OUR LORD FOR THE YOUNG. 



BY 

JR. MACDUFF, D.D. 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. ROWAN 



"I am THE Light of the World." — Johnvm. 12. 

"His countenance was as the Sun shineth in his strength." — Rev. i. i6. 

" A light from heaven ABOVE the Brightness of the Sun." — Acts yxvi. 13. 

" Thou Sun of this great world, both eye and soul, 
Acknowledge Him thy Greater : sound His praise 
In thine eternal course ; both when thou climb'st. 
And when high noon hast gained, and when thou fall'st." 

Paradise Lost, Book V. 

" his inferior flame 

A new enlightened World no more would need : 

He saw a Greater Sun appear, 
Than his bright throne or burning axle-tree could bear." 

Miltotis Hymn on the Nativity. 



AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

1 50 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 



^c\l^^ 



■III 4--% 



By dxohangre 
Army «fc Navy Olub 
AUG 1 7 1936 



PREFACE. 



This is the only portion of the following pages addressed to those 
senior to the generality of my readers. 

rt is with the deepest reverence, — ^with a devout and prayerful 
sense of responsibility, that in any form a writer ventures to offer, 
in the permanent shape which authorship implies, the Life of all 
lives. Nor is this responsibility in any degree lessened, rather is 
it deepened and intensified, when the attempt has special reference 
to the mind in its early and most receptive stage. 

I think it only due to myself to say, that the present volume 
was commenced very many years ago. Its progress was retarded, 
and completion rendered impossible, by the engrossing calls of a 
busy sphere. Greater leisure has permitted me to revise with 
care what had been already written; and to resume, amid other 
studies, what remained in this simple rendering, of the ever new, 
and ever more wondrous Narrative, 

Lives of Cbrist by Bishop Ellicott, Dr. Pressens^, Dr. Hanna^ 
and Dr. Fair ar, may be taken as modern representative volumes 
on the sacred thome, adapted for matured and cultured intellect, — 
for manhood and womanhood. " The Wonderful Life " (Henry S. 
King & Co.) may be regarded, and strongly recommended, as a 



vi PREFACE. 

similar representative volume for thoughtful youth. That by the 
authoress of " Pee'p of Bay" is peerless in its own domain for 
child-learners. The present is designed as intermediate between 
the latter two ; and it is hoped will thus occupy a peculiar, and 
still, so far as I know, unappropriated niche in the Human Temple 
that has sought to enshrine the Greatest Biography.^ 

My aim throughout has been to write, with studied simplicity, 
a 'pictorial Life of the Saviour ; making it as vivid and attractive 
as 1 could to youthful nature. While, however, I speak of 
" studied simplicity," neither have I discarded the advice for- 
merly given by one well competent to speak, that it was often a 
mistake in books for the young employing too juvenile language. 
I have endeavoured, in what follows, to accept the truth of the 
observation by avoiding both extremes. 

One remark I would desire to make by way of caution. 
Nothing is more important in the treatment of such a theme, 
than to keep steadily and constantly before the young mind that 
it is a Divine Life which is under contemplation : that that Great 
and Glorious Figuee moving in every page of the Gospels, is 
none other than " the Mystery of Godliness " — " God manifest 
in the flesh." Yet, while deprecating what may be called the 
painfully exclusive humanitarian views which are only too pre- 
valent, alike in the pulpit and the press, I have not scrupled to 
give every prominence to the blessed complementary and coun- 



* Though for a different class of readers, let me commend the excellent 
" Lessons on our Lord's lAfe," by Eugene Stock, a book specially valuable to 
Sunday-School Teachers. 



PREFACE. 



terpart truth of Jesus, " the Child lorn," and " the Son given" as 
well as Jesus " the Mighty God, and Everlasting Father." I have 
put no arrest, so far as was allowable, on the portrayal of the 
human feelings alike through Childhood, Boyhood, and Manhood ; 
— or in picturing the lowliness of birth, and station, and employ- 
ment. All this ' realistic ' treatment is designed to make the 
youngest feel, that he or she had in Chkist a Brother in their 
nature, and have now a Brother on the Throne. If at times, 
therefore, in any one turn of the narrative, the human element 
may seem to eclipse or dim the Divine, let those to whom my 
juvenile readers loot for guidance be ready with the needful 
monition — never unseasonable — * Eemember, this Meek and 
Lowly Saviour is the Great Lord of all ; — " The Brightness of the 
Fathers glory, and the express Image of His person." ' Let those 
words, which have been embalmed through long ages in' the creed 
of Christendom, ever be placed on the forefront of the mar- 
vellous Life-story — "I believe in one Lord Jesus Cheist, the 

ONLY BEGOTTEN SON OF GOD BEGOTTEN OF HiS FATHER BEFORE 

ALL WORLDS, GOD OF GOD, LIGHT OF LIGHTS, VEEY 
GOD OF YEEY GOD." 

I have written, as already said, with " The Morning of Life " 
alone in my mind. But simplicity may be made the vehicle of 
thought and teaching to every diversity of age. With the 
growth of years we are taught, indeed, how nearly allied culture 
and simplicity are. 

Before closing this Preface, let me advert, in a word, to 
another component part of the work. Despite frequently of 



viii PREFACE. 

much artistic power and ability, it must be allowed that there 
is often great sameness and repetition in what are familiarly 
known as " Bible Pictures." It has been my special aim, as 
well as that of the artist, to whose genius, and I may add, 
reverence for the scenes delineated, I am indebted, — to depart 
from this ordinary conventional treatment. Subjects have been 
purposely taken, different from those usually selected ; and I 
think I can appeal both to young and old for an approving 
verdict, alike as to the vigour and freshness of the accompanying 
illustrations. 



CONTENTS. 



A Few Opening Words 



^arlw 5 ate. 



I. An Angel tells about his Birth 
II. He is born in Bethlehem 

III. He is taken up to the Temple 

IV. Wise Men from the East visit Him 
V. Herod tries to kill Him 

VI, He goes down into Egypt 



VII. He goes to Nazareth, and lives there 
VIII. He is taken up to the Temple when He is twelve 
years old ....... 

IX. His Father and Mother seek Him sorrowing 



X. He grows up to Manhood at Nazareth 



[mbmir ^rig^fncss. 



XL 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 



He goes to the Jordan and is Baptized . 

He goes to the Mount of Temptation 

He receives His first followers 

He turns Water into Wine 

He goes first to the Lake, and then to the Passover 

He meets Nicodemus, a Jewish Ruler. 

He meets a woman of Samaria at Jacob's Well . 

He cures the Nobleman's Son . . . 

He heals the Lame Man at the Pool of Bethesda 

He is at Nazareth again .... 

He teaches at the Lake and calls Four Disciples 

How He spends a Sabbath at the Lake . 



PAGB 

I 



95 
io8 

112 

117 
123 
132 

138 
146 
149 
156 

162 
165 



CONTENTS. 



PAGB 

XXIII, He goes up a Mountain, and afterwards cures a Leper 169 

XXIV. He heals a sick man of the palsy, and calls another 

DISCIPLE ....... 172 

XXV. He PREACHES THE SeRMON ON THE MoUNT, AND APPOINTS 

His Twelve Apostles . . . . .176 

XXVI. He cukes the Centurion's Servant . . .180 

XXVII. He goes to Nain, and raises the Widow's Son to Life 183 

XXVIII. He says kind words to a Woman who was a Sinner , 187 

XXIX. He sends a message to John the Baptist . . .192 

XXX. He teaches by Parables, and then crosses the Lake in 

A storm ....... 196 

XXXI. He goes to Gadara, and cures the Man with the Legion 

of Devils ....... 201 

XXXII. He cures the Daughter of Jairus .... 204 

XXXIII. He hears of John the Baptist's Death , . . 209 

XXXIV. He feeds a Crowd of Five Thousand , . . 214 



§atljtnit0 Cloutis. 



XXXV. He walks at Night on the stormy Lake . . 223 

XXXVI. He preaches in the Synagogue at Capernaum . . 226 

XXXVII. He goes to Tyre, Sidon, and Decapolis . . . 230 

XXXVIII. He returns to the East of the Lake . . . 234 

XXXIX. He goes to the coasts of Cesarea Philippi . . 236 

XL. He is confessed by His Apostles to be the Son of 

THE Living God ...... 240 

XLI. He ASCENDS THE MOUNT OF TRANSFIGURATION . . 244 

XLII. He goes to the Feast of Tabernacles . . .252 

XLIII. He cures a Blind Man, and delivers the Parable of 

THE Good Shepherd ..... 260 

XLIV. He goes to Galilee, and sends out Seventy Disciples 263 

XLV. He delivers the most beautiful of all His Parables 266 

XLVI. He goes up by Jericho to Bethany . . .271 

XLVII. He attends the Feast of Dedication, and returns to 

Perea ....... 275 

XLVin. Before He leaves Perea He blesses Little Children 281 
XLIX. He hears of the Death of Lazarus, and goes to 

Bethany ....... 283 

L. He goes to the town of Ephraim, and thence to 

Jericho . . • • • • .291 

LI. He passes through Jericho, and cures Blind Bartimeus 294 





CONTENTS. 


xi 




6I^ams \itiQXt Sunset, 




LII. 


He is entertained at a Feast in Bethany 


305 


LIII. 


He crosses in triumph the Mount of Olives . 


309 


LIV. 


He weeps over Jerusalem, and then enters the City 


314 


LV. 


He foretells the Destruction of the Temple, and is 






further betrayed by Judas .... 


317 


LVI. 


He sends two of His Disciples to make ready the 






Passover ....... 


321 


LVIL 


He eats the Passover with His Disciples 


324 


LVIIL 


He Suffers in the Garden of Gethsemane 


333 


LIX. 


He is seized by a troop of Soldiers 


339 


LX. 


He is brought before Annas and Caiaphas 


342 


LXI. 


He is cruelly treated in the house of Caiaphas, and 






DENIED BY PeTER ...... 


345 


LXII. 


He is taken to the palace of Pilate 


348 


LXIII. 


He appears before Pilate and Herod 


351 


LXIV. 


He is given up by Pilate to be Crucified , 


357 


LXV. 


He is taken to Calvary ..... 


363 


LXVI. 


His Sufferings on the Cross begin 


367 


LXVII. 


He pardons the Penitent Thief, and commends His 






Mother to the care of John .... 


372 


LXVIIL 


He suffers amid the darkness, and at last bows His 






head in death ...... 


375 


LXIX. 


He is taken down from the Cross and laid in a Tomb . 


379 


LXX. 


His Tomb is watched by a Guard of Soldiers 


384 


LXXI. 


His Tomb is found empty by the Holy Women, and 






visited by Peter and John .... 


387 




%\% %xmi ^rnxxu. 




LXXII. 


He reveals Himself to Mary Magdalene and to Peter 


395 


LXXIII. 


He joins the Two Disciples on the way to Emmaus 


400 


LXXIV. 


He appears twice to those gathered in the Upper Room 


405 


LXXV. 


He shows Himself to His Disciples on the Lake-shore . 


410 


LXXVI. 


He meets Five Hundred Brethren on a Mountain in 






Galilee ..... . . 


417 




Jatoit of itoital Jag. 




LXXVII. 


He is taken up to Heaven in a cloud 


425 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



The Transfiguration — 

'' And Hh face did shine as the Sim" {JAzXi. -xm. "l) 
The Shepherds of Bethlehem — 

" And there ivei-e shepherds abiding in the fields ' ' (Luke ii. 8) ■ 
The Journey of the "Wise Men" — 

" There caine wise tnen from the East to Jerusalem " (Matt. ii. l) . 
Sabbath Eve at Nazareth — 

" //e came to A^azareth, and was subject unto them " (Luke ii. 51) . 
The Divine Youth of Nazareth — 

" He was in the world, and the world was made by Him, and the world 
knt-w Him not" {]o\iTx\. id) . 
Jesus in the Wilderness — 

" And was with the wild beasts" (yizxW. 13) . . 

The Pool of Bethesda— 

"^« angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troiibled the 
water" (John v. 4) . 
John the Baptist in Prison — 

'■'■John calling unto him two of his Disciples, sent them to Jesus" (Luk 
vii. 19) . • . 

The Blind Man at Bethsaida — 

" He took the blind man by the hand, and led him out of the toivn " (Mark 
viii. 23) 
Carrying the Golden Pitcher from the Pool of Siloam — 

" With joy shall ye draw water ont of the wells of salvation " (Is. xii. 3) 
Lazarus is Dead — 

" But Mary sat still in the house" (Jolm xii. 28) . . . . 

The Children in the Temple^ . 

" The children crying in the Temple, and saying, Hosanna. to the Son of 
David" (Matt. xxi. 15) . 

The Traitor Band— 

" They went backward, ajtdfell to the ground" (John xviii. 6) 
The Holy Women at the Crucifixion — 

" There ivere also wotnen looking on afar off" (Mark xv. 40) 
St. John and the Mother of Jesus — 

'^ And from that hour, that Disciple took her unto his own home" (John 
xix. 27) ... 

Morning on the Lake-side — 

" When the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the shore " 

[The Drawings are engraved by Mr. Pearson, of Bolt Court, Fleet Street] 



Frontispiece 



63 



86 



109 



238 
257 
287 

316 
34a 
364 

375 



A FEW OPENING WORDS. 



Tell me, my young friends, what you think is beyond all com- 
parison the most glorious object iu the outer world ? I am sure 
you will at once answer — 

It is THE SUN. 

Wlio can wonder that Chaldean and Persian, Ass3rrian and 
Phcenician, worshipped it ? Who can wonder that altars were 
built all over the East to " the Sun-God," — generally placed on the 
tops of the hills to catch the earliest morning rays ? The Deity 
of Thebes, the old capital of Egypt, was called Amun-Ea, " The 
Sun." The Sun-emblem is still visible on the gateways of 
Karnac and Denderah. The first site of Egypt's ancient Temples 
I visited, with its solitary obelisk standing amid m-ounds of weeds, 
was at On, " The City of the Sun." The most splendid ruin I 
have ever seen is " The Temple of the Sun " at Baalbec. Some 
Oriental Kings wear a golden image of the " Kingly Orb " as the 
proudest badge of royalty, and take the name, as their proudest 
boast, of " Children of the Sun." Who that has travelled in 
Eastern deserts, or sailed in Eastern seas, can forget the Arab 
guide or boatman, spreading his mat on the pathless sand or on 
the deck of his vessel, and falling prostrate as he descries the first 
rim of gold in the far horizon ? Who can forget how full the 
sacred poetry of the Bible is of the same " Euler of the day " ? 
Yes, how the Great God of all, who hath set His glory above the 
Heavens, is said to take these beams and to weave them into 
a beauteous vesture for Himself, — " Who covereth Thyself with 
Light as with a garment ? " 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



Many of you doubtless have watched that glowing Sun rising 
in the Eastern sky. Ere the ball of fire makes its appearance, 
one twinkling star after another has dimmed and paled away 
before it. The world gradually puts off its dark sable mantle, 
and clothes itself in a robe of brightness. Wreathes of mist 
and cloud rise slowly from hill and valley, and the biids wake 
up to their chorus of song. 

" Far eastward in the Heaven 
You see at last the sign, 
O'er the far purple mountain 
A single silver line. 

" It broadens and it deepens 
To a sea of red and gold, 
With clouds of rosy amber 
Around its glory rolled. 

** Till each pane of your window 
Is silvered o'er and o'er ; 
And lines of golden arrows 
Lie on the dusky floor." 

Still higher and yet higher is the steep ascent of the heavens 
climbed. " In them hath He set a tabernacle for the Sun, which 
is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as 
a strong man to run a race." Onwards still he continues his 
giant course, till he seems to pause overhead at noontide, perhaps 
in the calm, cloudless blue of a summer sky. Now begins the 
descent towards the west. Eleecy clouds may be gathering 
around him. These at times deepen as the shadows fall. Then 
comes sunset with its parting burst of radiance ; farewell gleams 
tipping every rock and mountain, every stem and branch and leaf, 
with a ruddy glow. " His going forth has been from the one end 
of the heaven, and his circuit unto the other end of it, and there 
is nothing hid from the heat thereof." Most glorious of all, when 
this Monarch of the sky seems to lay down his head on a 
pillow of crimson and gold ; or, when lost from view, he leaves 
behind him a trail of beautiful huht. 



A FEW OPENING WORDS. 



TMs, young readers, is a picture and image in Outer Nature of 
what I am going to try feebly to describe in this book. 

A far more glorious Light even than that glorious Sun of the 
firmament is to occupy our thoughts. We are to gaze together 
with devout and wondering eyes on the true " Sun of Eighteous- 
NESS." We are to trace together His rising from early dawn, on 
through the morning of His sacred life, till we behold Him pour- 
ing noontide brightness over the world whose darkness He came 
to lighten, and whose souls He came to save. We are together 
to watch the clouds which gathered around Him towards evening. 
Then the gleams of heavenly Light which pierced the gloom of 
His awful setting, until " the shadow of death was turned into the 
morning." Finally, we shall see Him rise to set no more ; vanish- 
ing from our sight behind the earthly horizon, only to shine amid 
the splendours of the Heavenly City. " The Lamb is the Light 
thereof." 

While we are thus occupied in what follows, gazing on One 
" Bkightee than the Sun," let it be your prayer and mine, " 1 
beseech Thee, shew me Thy Glory : " that so, in closing these pages, 
we may be able, with humble happy confidence, to take and make 
the words of the Great Apostle our own : — 

" God, who comm,anded the light to shine out of darkness, hath 
shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the 
glo^y of God in the face of Jesus Chkist " (2 Cor. iv. 6). 



EARLY DAV\rN. 

*• WATCHMAN, WHAT OF THE NIGHT? WATCHMAN, WHAT OF THE NIGHT? 
THE WATCHMAN SAID, 'THE MORNING COMETH.'" — Is. XXI. II, 12. 

"THROUGH THE TENDER MERCY OF OUR GOD, WHEREBY THE DAYSPRING 
FROM ON HIGH HATH VISITED US." — LUKE I. 78. 

"THE PEOPLE THAT WALKED IN DARKNESS HAVE SEEN A GREAT LIGHT : 
THEY THAT DWELL IN THE LAND OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH, UPON 
THEM HATH THE LIGHT SHINED."— Is. IX. 2. 

"THE GENTILES SHALL COME TO THY LIGHT, AND KINGS TO THE BRIGHT- 
NESS OF THY RISING." — Is. LX. 3. 

"NOW THE BIRTH OF JESUS CHRIST WAS ON THIS WISE." — MaTT. I, 18. 



EARLY DAWN. 



^n %xi%t\ tells about His Btrtlj* 

In a lonely village among the hills of Galilee, this ' Sweet story 
of old' begins. There we watch the first streak of promised 
Day-break. 

There are few places in the Holy Land which have more of a 
quiet beauty about them than Nazaeeth. Though sadly changed 
from its older and better days, it still remains a pleasant and 
favoured nook in the great " fruit orchard," which we know 
Palestine once was. It still has its green vaUey, its clusters of 
fig, vine, ohve, and almond trees, and its gardens fenced with 
hedges of prickly pear. Patches of white limestone-rock peep out 
here and there on the slopes ; the fields are golden in their season 
with wheat and barley ; and in the early spring and summer the 
grass looks gay with red and white daisies and anemones, blue 
lupins, and tulips. No wonder the flowers are so numerous, for 
the name " Nazareth " is supposed to mean " flowery." A very old 
writer, St. Jerome, calls it " The flower of Galilee." Another speaks 
of it as " a rose in the midst of leaves." This peaceful little spot 
with its encircling hills recalled more than one familiar scene 
among the mountainous districts of our own country, — only with 
a sun and climate that can ripen, what is an impossibility under 
northern skies, the gTape, the melon, the orange, and the citron. 

Prom several of these heights a goodly number of famous places 
spoken about in the Bible are visible. I wish you had been with 
me when I stood, one cloudless day in spring, on the highest 
summit above the town, where a pole was placed in the midst of 
a heap of stones close by a Moslem tomb. Prom it were visible 
in the distance, among others, four well-known hills of Scripture 
story, and yet they seemed, in that clear air, to Jae very near. 
Can you guess what they were ? 



There was Carmel with its bold front, which reminded me of 
the great Elijah and the prophets of Baal. There was round 
GUboa, which seemed still to resound with David's touching 
lament over the death of Saul and Jonathan. There was dome- 
shaped Tabor with its clumps of oak ; to English eyes so home 
and park lil^e, — which recalled the prophetess Deborah and 
the warlike Barak. Higher than all, there was great Mount 
Hermon, with a snowy top like a white crown, looking a king 
among the other mountains : — whUe far to the right, washing 
the sands of the Bay of Acre, were the deep blue waters of the 
Mediterranean Sea, over whose waves apostles and missionaries 
sped ages ago, bearing with them from Palestine the message 
of salvation to the distant shores of Greece and Italy, Spain and 
Britain. 

The eyes of One, " beightek " far than the bright sun which 
was that day shining on all these scenes of sacred interest, — 
One meek and lowly, yet Godlil^e and divine, of whom I am to 
speak in the following pages, must have often, often gazed on the 
sublime and varied prospect. 

At the time of which I am going to teU you, this Highland 
Village was very much apart from the rest of the world. It 
must have looked then, as it does now, like a secluded bird's 
nest. No great highway or road led to it. No din of traffic 
was heard in its streets. No prophet like Isaiah, no Psalmist 
like David, had ever spoken about it or sung about it. WhUe, 
not far off, camps had been pitched, the trumpet of war had 
sounded, and great armies had fought ; no battle that we 
know of, ever raged on its slopes, no blood had ever stained its 
thymey fields. It appeared as if it were meant to be, as we 
know it did become, the home of some Peince of Peace. 
Josephus, the Jewish historian, speaks of a vast number of towns 
and villages in the Holy Land, but he never mentions Nazareth. 
In other cities of Galdee there were many rich men and traders, 
soldiers, and merchants, and nobles, who had splendid houses, 
with slaves and servants to attend upon them. But no proud 
Roman or Greek would have cared to live here. Even the 



EARLY DAWN. 



roving Arab would not think it worth his while to come and 
pillage its houses of baked clay and its scanty crops. It was 
simply a retired country hamlet. Some of its villagers would 
look after flocks of goats and sheep, — others would train vines 
and olives to make wine and oil. Perhaps it did not own another 
shop or place of business save the One where a Carpenter worked, 
which has given it all its fame and glory. Its handful of peasants 
and farmers would possess in common at least one public building. 
Just as in our own land the Church-tower or spire is seen in the 
humblest of our villages, rising among clumps of elms and yews, 
so would the Synagogue of Nazareth, situated as all synagogues 
were, on the highest ground available, and built of unhewn stone, 
catch the eye, — half hidden amid the blossoms of the apple-trees, 
the tall tapering cypresses, or the leaves of the clustering vine. 
The cypresses form a prominent feature in the first glimpse of 
Nazareth at the present day. 

As I went up the steep and narrow streets of the town, with their 
round stones and rough crossings, I wondered if the flat-roofed 
dwellings on either side were much the same as those which 
existed nearly nineteen hundred years ago. At all events, it must 
have been iu a house very like one of those I saw, that a humble 
tradesman once dwelt, who earned his bread, just as honest work- 
ing men in our country do, by the sweat of his brow. There was 
a beautiful young woman of Nazareth who Kved near him, and 
who was soon to become his wife. Her name is one familiarly 
known in the homes of Britain, — familiarly known in the homes 
of Europe and America, — Mary or Miriam (the Hebrew Miriam, 
the Greek Maria or Mariarn). The Hebrew name, I may just 
say in passing, was in the first instance taken from Miriam the 
sister of Moses. But at this particular time it had become more 
common than ever in Palestine because derived from another and 
different personage. Mary or Mariam was the name of the 
recently murdered wife of Herod : better known as Mariamne ; — 
a Queen, royal in every sense of the word ; for she had the 
royalty of kingly or queenly descent, and the better royalty of a 
noble nature. The Jews passionately mourned her cruel fate, and 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



they retained the memory of her many virtues in the names of 
their children.^ We shall find as we proceed, that among the 
few females mentioned in the course of our Lord's life, no less 
than four of them had the name dear to so many English brothers 
and sisters. 

The day I was leaving Nazareth, I saw outside the town a 
number of w:omen gathered round the village well, with rows of 
coins twisted in their black hair and round their wrists. They 
wore on the back of their heads scarfs or handkerchiefs of all 
colours, yellow, red, and blue. They were busy drawing water in 
their pitchers from a large marble trough. This same young Mary 
would be often seen there at the same hour in the morning and 
at sunset, carrying her pitcher on her head or shoulder, and taking 
it home to her parents' house. The well is named after her — it 
is called " The well of the Virgin." 

A great honour was in store for Mary, and for her future 
husband Joseph, poor and humble as they both were. 

One day she was visited by an Angel. The Greek Church, by 
erecting a building over the spot, have supposed that he addressed 
her as she was in the act of drawing water at that Fountairi. But 
I think it far more likely, in accordance with the belief of the 
Latin Christians at Nazareth, that he would appear to her in her 
own house. Although only a foolish tradition, and I mention it 
as such, I remember being taken, as all travellers are, to a grotto 
hung with silver lamps, under the Church of the Latin Convent, 
where the angel is said to have shewn himself to the Holy Virgin 
behind the rude pillar which supports the roof. 

Gabriel was the name of the Divine messenger. He was the 
same who appeared four hundred years before to the Prophet 
Daniel in Babylon, and informed him about the coming of 
" Messiah the Prince." He called the lowly maiden by her 
name. He said — 

" Mary, the Great God of Heaven has sent me to tell you that 
you are to be blessed above all the women that ever were on the 

1 See Dean Stanley's "Jewish Church," vol. iii. p. 429. 



EARLY DAWN. 



earth. You are to be tlie Mother of Jesus Christ, the world's 
Saviour." 

Angels, as you know, had often before appeared to the Jews at 
different periods of their history. Angels came and spoke to 
Abraham in his tent door at Mamre. A band of Angels went up 
and down the ladder which Jacob saw in his Bethel dream. 
Angels had appeared to Moses, to Joshua, to Gideon, and many 
others. But their visits had not been so common in recent years. 
We might not have been astonished therefore, if Mary had at first 
been much troubled at seeing this bright visitant, and at hearing 
news so startling. Wonderful tidings indeed they were. 

" And. the Angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary ; for thou hast 
.found favour ivith God. And, behold, thou shall conceive in thy 
vjomh, and bring forth a son, and shall call his name JUS US. He 
shall be great, o.nd shall he called the Son of the Highest ; and the 
Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of His father David ; and 
He shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever ; and of His kingdom 
there shall be no end" (Luke i. 30—33). 

She was to be the mother of a King. He was to be Greater 
than David. He was to " sit upon a throne" not for a lifetime 
only, but " for ever." His name was to be " The Son of the 
Highest," and the Great God was to be His Father. 

And yet I do not know if you were ever struck with the singular 
calmness and absence of much wonder with which Mary received 
the Angel's announcement. I have spoken of her and Joseph as 
lowly inmates of a cottage. But in another sense they were not 
lowly. They were aware of a fact that would have made many 
like them very proud, viz., that they both were " of the house and 
lineage of David." What does this mean ? It means that though 
they had lost their worldly position and worldly wealth — though 
Joseph was nothing else but a humble artisan, and she a humble 
maiden, yet they were descended from the royal line ; they were 
children of a royal race, the blood of the Shepherd King of Israel 
flowed in their veins. Knowing therefore, as they did, that the 
coming Messiah was to be " the Son of David " — " a rod out of 
the stem of Jesse, and a branch growing out of his roots," Mary 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



might not be so astounded as other Jewish women would have 
been, when she was told of the high privilege in store for her, — 
that of giving birth to the promised Eedeemer. 

There have been instances occasionally in history where the 
children of monarchs have been found working as tradesmen, or 
toiling as slaves and servants, or even wandering about as beggars ; 
those with whom they lived or laboured unconscious of their 
" royal lineage," till some apparent accident dragged them into 
notice and fame. A similar secret Joseph and Mary had now 
kept to themselves. Poverty and the lapse of time had made 
them exchange the grandeur of a palace for the walls of a very 
different home. The dwellers in that remote hamlet knew them 
only as fellow-villagers ; the one at his workshop, the other at her 
household cares, plying her distaff or carrying her water-flagon 
from the fountain. Little did the neighbours dream that the 
Cedar Halls of David might have been their residence, and that 
the Crown of David was their splendid birthright. Mary's, how- 
ever, was now to be a greater honour stiU than being heir of 
" Solomon in all his glory." She was chosen among the daughters 
of Abraham to be the Mother of " the Prince of the Kings of 
the earth." 

When Mary saw the Angel and heard his announcement, " She 
cast in her mind what manner of sahdation this should he." 

The good Angel calmed her spirit. She inferred at once that 
it was a Divine message, and she felt assured that all he had told 
her would come true. It is well for us, like Mary, simply to 
believe without question what God reveals to us by His servants 
in His Holy Word. 

When people are in doubt and perplexity they often find it a 
relief to go and speak to a friend and ask advice. Even when 
the youngest amongst you have something upon their minds, they 
like to carry their troubles to their fathers and mothers or some 
other kind adviser. 

Mary resolved to do this. She had a cousin called Elizabeth, 
who lived probably at Hebron, the ancient Mamre, whore the 
good old Father of the Faithful lived and was buried. If not 



EARLY DAWN. 13 



Hebron, it was at all events a city close by, one of the thirteen 
towns which had been assigned to the Levites. Elizabeth's hus- 
band was an aged Priest, who took his regular turn in ministering 
in. the Temple. The Angel had told Mary that Ehzabeth was to 
be honoured too like herself; for she was to give birth to John 
the Baptist, the Morning Star who was to precede a " Brightee 

THAN THE SUN." 

I dare say it was the Angel who put the thought into Mary's 
mind to go to the distant home of her relative, and speak about 
the wonderful news which he had brought to her. 

The only difficulty must have been the long, long journey for 
one so young to take. Hebron was between eighty and a hundred 
miles distant from Nazareth, far off iu the wild hill country or 
highlands of Judah. It could be reached only by winding dusty 
roads. I cannot think Mary could have gone for these five days 
all alone. I think she must likely have accompanied, so far at 
least, some of the pilgrims going to one of the Feasts at Jerusalem. 
There are silly traditions too regarding her journey : — about lilies 
springing up and blooming in her path : about animals wild and 
tame gathering around her — the lion laying aside his ferocity, and 
in company with the meek lamb, keeping guard over her as she 
pursued her way. But we do not need such fancies as these. 
The great and good God she served would doubtless " give His 
Angels charge concerning her, to keep her in all her ways," 
shielding her from danger and fear, till she reached her des- 
tination. 

"We can think of her, one bright evening, when perhaps the 
sun was setting on the kills above Abraham's tomb, knocking at 
her cousin's door. Elizabeth would doubtless be much surprised 
to see her relative from Nazareth standing there. No sooner was 
the door opened than they were locked in one another's arms ; and 
as each told the tale of wonder, they praised God for His great 
goodness. " Row is it," exclaimed Elizabeth, at once shewing 
that she knew the vast honour in store for Mary, " that the Mother 
of my Lord should come to me ? " 

Mary, lUce one of the Prophetesses of Old Testament story, repHed 



14 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

in the words of that hymn of devotion, worthy of a seraph's tongue, 
which millions on millions have since so loved to use, — 

" My soul doth magnify the Lord, 
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. 
For He hath regarded the low estate of His handmaiden ; 
For, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. 
For He that is mighty hath done to me great things; 
And holy is His name. 

And His mercy is on them that fear Him from generation to generation. 
He hath shewed strength with His arm ; 

He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. 
He hath put dow7i the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree. 
He hath filled the hungry with good things ; 
And the rich He hath sent empty away. 

He hath holpen His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy; 
As He spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to His seed for ever." 

Wliat a beautiful song ! It tells us how meek and trustful and 
humble Mary was. There is no pride nor boasting in her sayings. 
Words that were afterwards spoken from the top of a green hill 
not far from Nazareth were surely true of her, — "Blessed are the 
poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." She seems to 
think most of Jesus, not as her Son, nor as " He that is mighty," 
but as " the Saviour," and better still as " My Saviour." She felt 
that she herself was a poor sinner like all the rest of the world, 
and needed One to save her. 

I should tell you that the world was, at this period, increasing 
in wickedness and crime. The Eomans now ruled over its king- 
doms. They were the mightiest nation that ever existed : mightier 
than Egypt, or Nineveh, or Babylon, or Tyre. The Mediterranean 
Sea has been called at this time " a Eoman Lake ; " the cities 
which bordered its shores with their wealth and commerce were 
all in the hands of the great Ceesar who swayed the Eoman 
sceptre. But if it was the vastest of empires, it was also the 
most corrupt. The Jews, too, were not the holy people they 
once were, loving God and seeking to please Him. There was 
no longer a good King David or a righteous Hezekiah on the 



EARLY DAWN. 15 



throne of Zion. They were more taken up about the colour 
of the fringes of their robes and the shape and breadth of 
their " frontlets ; " — about outward rites, washings and obser- 
vances, than about justice and truth, purity and mercy, love to 
God and charity to man. Happy exceptions, doubtless, there were, 
in the midst of this darkness and apostasy. Not a few devout, 
spirits, tired and wearied with the earth's guilt, were exclaim- 
ing, " Oh ! when will the Great Deliverer come ? When will that 
blessed Messiah appear, who is to dry the world's tears, and heal 
its sad hearts and wipe away its sins ? " When is " tho. True LigJit" 
THE Sun of Eighteousness, to dispel all this deep darkness ? 
A quaint old poet (Quarles) thus expresses the longing of many 
such weary souls, — 

" Will't ne'er be morning ? Will that promised Light 
Ne'er break, and clear those clouds of night 1 
Sweet Phosphor, bring the day, 
Whose conqu'ring ray 
May chase these fogs ; Sweet Phosphor, bring the day ! " 

Or, in the words of another and better known poet, although with 
a higher meaning to his beautiful emblem : — these saintly, sad- 
dened, earnest hearts were like 

"An infant crying in the night ; 

An infant crying for The Light ; 
And with no language but a cry." * 

Mary was the first to be told " He is indeed coming at last." Hers 
was the first " Morning Hymn " of welcome and joy, hailing the 
true " Light-Bringer " (Phosphor), " Brighter than the brightest : " 
— " The darkness is past, and THE true Light now shineth." 

I have just one remark to add. You have perhaps been saying 
to yourselves, — "How honoured was this lowly Mary of Nazareth ! " 

So, truly, she was. But I wish you to hear words which were 
spoken by Jesus long after. One day as He was talking to tlie 

* Tennyson's '* In Memoriam." 



i6 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

people, and when His mother and His brethren were standing 
outside desiring to speak with Him, one of His followers told 
Him of it, saying, " Behold Thy Mother." The answer of Jesus a3 
He turned round was, — " Who is My Mother ? and who are My 
Brethren .? " And then He pointed with His finger to those, young 
and old, who were near Him, and who He knew had holy hearts 
and gentle, loving, obedient lives ; and He said, " Behold, these are 
My Mother, these are My brethren. For all who do the will of My 
Father in heaven, the same is My mother, and My sister, and My 
brother." 

Oh wondrous thought ! that all who love and seek to please 
Him, may be called 'the brothers or sisters of the Great 
Eedeemer.' 



n. 

^t is Born in i3et!)Uf)e«t. 

The two cousins remained together for three months, and then 
Mary returned to Nazareth. 

Often and often, I dare say, when she got to her own home 
agam, she would say to herself, " How very wonderful it is that I 
should be chosen for so great an honour ! I would have imagined, 
if the Great God is to appear on the earth and become Man, He 
will surely come in splendid state. His selected home will be a 
palace with gilded ceilings. A King will be His foster-father, 
a Queen His mother, and troops of Angels will attend upon Him." 

We might have thought so too. "We might have thought it 
would be with Him as with the fabled gods of Greece and Eome, 
who were said, when they descended to the world, to come down 
to a beautiful mountain called Olympus, ten thousand feet high, 
on whose broad summit Jupiter their king had his throne under 
a canopy of cloud. But " God's thoughts are not as our thoughts." 
This " Tree of Life " from the Paradise of Heaven is to grow up 



EARLY DAWN. 17 



" a Tender Plant " in a remote valley of earth. The Angel sent to 
tell of His birth came, as we have seen, to a poor occupant of a 
poor dwelling, in a village so unknown as not to have so much as 
its name mentioned in the Old Testament at all. A young woman 
in humble life is to be the Mother of Immanuel. A carpenter, 
and carpenter's wife, are to carry in their arms the Savioue of 

MANKIND ! 

In due time Jesus was born ; but not at Nazareth. His birth- 
place was Bethlehem, a town about six miles from Jerusalem, 
perched on the top of a rocky ridge, with fiat roofs and white 
walls, and a valley or meadow below it, not unlike the one of which 
I have told you in far-off Galilee. 

It was among the cornfields of Bethlehem that Euth, who 
afterwards became the wife of Boaz, gleaned among the reapers. 
It was the very same town close to which King David, a thousand 
years before, when he was a boy, kept his father's sheep, defend- 
ing them from robbers and beasts of prey. Under the shade of 
these fig and olive trees he played his shepherd's pipe, made of 
the reeds gathered in the valley, — the flock he had in charge 
browsing on the hillsides around : — while among these farther 
limestone crags, overhung with tufts of the caper plant and rough 
with masses of prickly thorn, the shepherds thought with pride that 
they could still point to where the brave young stripling fought 
single-handed the bear and lion, and where he first used the sling 
that raised him to the throne of Israel. There, too, was " the 
Well at the Gate," where his heroes drew water, and from which 
he had often drank in his childhood. 

Not so lovely, certainly, as ISTazareth, yet the situation and 
surroundings of Bethlehem, from my remembrance of them, are 
striking and attractive. It may have lost its right to its old 
name of Ephratah (fruitful). But still it has its terraced gardens, 
and vineyards with clumps of varied trees on its sunny slopes. 
There is one grand view especially, at which the traveller can 
never tire looking, across to the mountains of Moab. "With their 
strange fiat tops, they seem like a great sapphire-waU built by 
giants. The Dead Sea is at their base. How my young readers 

B 



1 8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



•would delight to gather the red and blue flowers which in spring 
make these meadows around Betlilehem like a rich carpet ! There 
is one pretty white one, too, among these. They call it " The Star 
of Bethlehem." You shall presently hear how it got that name. 

How beautiful Bethlehem must have been in those olden days 
when its pastures were clothed with flocks, its valleys covered 
with corn, the little hills rejoicing on every side ! Bethlehem 
means " The house of bread." That name was now to belong to 
it in a truer sense than ever ; for it was about to give to a perish- 
ing world " The Bread of Life." 

But what, you will ask, has brought Mary and Joseph these 
long sixty miles from Nazareth ? 

CsBsar Augustus, the Eoman Emperor, had ordered that a roll 
should be made up of all the people he ruled in his great king- 
dom. Mary's ancestors, and Joseph's also, belonged to the tribe 
of Judah, and had lived, not at Nazareth, but at Bethlehem. 
They were required to go there to give in their names to the 
officers appointed to take what is called a Census. 

We can think of the journey of those two villagers of Galilee ; 
Mary seated on an ass, with Joseph walldng by her side, along 
the camel-track leading through the centre of the country. We 
can watch them as they approach Jerusalem by the Damascus 
Gate, passmg through the narrow streets, and out again by the 
great Hebron or South entrance. 

On reaching the town of Bethlehem (possibly at sunset), they 
would naturally make, as all travellers did, for the large village 
Inn or Khan, This, however, they found, on entering its archway, 
to be already thronged with a crowd, many of whom had come 
for the same purpose as themselves. They had no favour shewn 
them. Every recess at the sides of the courtyard was already 
occupied. Even the open court itself was taken possession of. 
Some had spread their quilts or rugs on the rough stones, and 
were sound asleep after a long journey. Piles of goods belonging 
to travelling merchants to or from Egypt were littered in other 
places. The rough voices of the men, the wrangling of those 



EARLY DAWN. 19 



engaged in traffic, tlie chatter of the women and children, the 
trampling of horses as they stood tied by a ring to the wall, the 
jingling of bells on the mnles and camels, must have been irksome 
in the extreme to these tired and weary Pilgrims from Nazareth. 

There being thus no room for them in the Inn itself, and no 
private home or lodging to be procured, there is nothing left 
but to accept far ruder accommodation. Accordingly, they go to 
the stable of the Khan, a place strewn with fodder, where mules 
and asses and yokes of oxen are housed for the night. How 
strange for these descendants of Kings, who had been hailed by 
an Angel, to be treated thus as outcasts in the city of their fathers ! 

I have told you about the fields of Bethlehem in bright day- 
time, let us now turn our gaze upon them at night. 

Only those who have been ia Palestine know how bright the 
stars are in that Eastern sky. They look exactly, as the little 
child said, " like holes in the floor of heaven to let the glory shine 
through." On one such beautiful night, a number of Shepherds 
were gathered on the grassy slopes under the town, watching their 
flocks. The sun had gone down. The women, and youth, and 
children of the village had, some hours before, returned from 
David's Well with their pitchers of water. The air was so warm 
and balmy that the Shepherds did not require to take their sheep 
and goats inside the walls to fold them there. They remained 
out all night with them in the open meadows. Everything was 
quiet — that strange peaceful stillness which all have felt so 
specially at night in Palestine. The birds had folded their wings 
to sleep. There was no sound of water, as in our land, to break 
the silence. Nothing was heard but the occasional bleating of 
the flocks. Perhaps now and then the sound of voices came 
floating down from the village Inn on the rocky ridge, or the 
flash of a lamp was for a moment seen on one of the flat-roofed 
houses, only to be lost again in the darkness. 

I cannot help thinking these Shepherds must have been pious 
men ; that they loved the Great God who made the mountains 
and the valleys, and the bright stars that glittered in the sky 
above. I daresay they often meu together on these hills, or in 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



some hollow or cavern sheltered from the night wmd, and by the 
light of their -watchfires, or the clear moon, read together their 
ancient prophecies about Jesus, or sang together some of David's 
sweet Psalms about Him, — Psalms, many of which he had com- 
posed on the very slopes around them ; or perhaps they would pray 
together that God would soon bring it all to pass, that they might 
see with their own eyes that Good Shepherd who was to " gather 
the lambs in His arms." 

I should not wonder if, on this very night I speak of, they had 
been talking to one another very earnestly about the Hope of 
their nation. If you can picture them doing so, I wonder if 
something like this would be their converse. 

"' One would say to his fellow, " To what place do you think will 
the Great Messiah first come ? Will it be Bethel, where the 
Angels went up and down from the stony pillow of the Patriarch ?" 

Another perhaps would say, " Will it not rather be Hebron, the 
old capital of Palestine, where David was crowned King, and 
where the Fathers of our nation are buried ? " 

Another woidd possibly say, " Will it not rather be SMloh, 
where the Ark of the covenant so long rested, and where the 
holiest child of Old Testament times ministered before the Lord ? " 

Another would perhaps say, " ISTo : will it not more likely be 
Jerusalem, in whose Temple Jehovah has dwelt for ages ; will not 
the old Shekinah- cloud come down again with a glory ' brighter 
than the sun ; ' will not the children of Zion be the first to be 
'joyful in their King' ?" 

Or we may suppose yet another of that band of watchers 
saying, " Nay, I am sure, when He comes, it will be to none of 
these. It will rather far be to our own Bethlehem. For did not 
the prophet Micah, seven hundred years ago, speak of Bethlehem 
by name as the birthplace of Him who was to be ' Euler in Israel ' ? 
He said that though it was a very little city, it was to become a 
very great and famous one, because One was to arise in it who 
had lived from all eternity as the Great God " (Micah v. 2). 

Then they would wonder, too, hoio He would come. Would He 
come as a full-grown man, without knowing anything of the 




And there were shepherds abiding in the fields" (Luke ii. 8) . {opposite page 20) 



EARLY DAWN. 



weakness and helplessness of infancy and childhood ? Would 
He be seated on a bright cloud, a rainbow about His head ? 
or would it be with chariots and horsemen around Him ; oi 
amid thunderings and lightnings such as were seen on Mount 
Sinai? 

Though perhaps in a very different way from what the godly 
Shepherds may have expected, their hopes and prayers were on 
the eve of being answered. 

In the midst of these quiet solitudes, a glorious Light in a 
moment fills the sky and brightens up all the valley. The stars, 
which a moment before had sparkled so beautifully, are dimmed 
and hidden with the strange splendour. 

What can it be ? 

It is an Angel sent down from heaven with a message to these 
keepers of sheep. 

We cannot wonder that they are at first struck with awe and 
terror. But the Angel spoke kindly to them. He said, " Be not 
afraid : for I have good neios for you ; a very joyful message to 
you and to all manhind." He told them the good news. They 
were the gladdest tidings the world ever heard ; that " a Saviour 
that day had been horn in Bethlehem, who was ' Christ the Lord.' " 
In answer to their inquiry where this Infant of Glory was to be 
seen and adored, did he reply that they would find Him with a 
crown on His head, jewels and precious gems on His dress, and 
for His couch a cradle of gold which Angels had borne on their 
wings from heaven and dropped on their way to the shining 
plains ? did he speak of the queens of the earth nursing Him and 
singing His cradle-song ? 

No ; they were informed that in a place built of rough .' tones 
they would find a poor child, wrapped in swaddling-bands and 
lying in a borrowed manger, amid the stamping of mules and 
horses, and the lowing of cattle. 

Just as the Shepherds were listening to the story of His birth, 
a still brighter light filled the heavens, and a vast army of Angels, 
all white and glorious, appear in the sky. You may recall a verse 
of one of the best-known of the ancient Christmas carols, — 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



" Shepherds ky afiekl that night to keep their fleecy sheep ; 
Hosts of angels in their sight came down from heaven's steep. 
Tidings ! Tidings unto you ! To you a child is born, 
Purer than the drops of dew, and brighter than the morn." 

That heavenly host sang a still older and better-known Christmas 
Hymn, — " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, 

GOODWILL TO MEN." 

Then all again was hushed. The strange music ceased ; and 
the stars looked down as before from their silent thrones in 
the sky. 

Beautifully does Milton thus write in his " Hymn on the 
Nativity," — as the eyes of the blind poet gazed through their 
darkness on One " Brighter than the Sun." I have quoted the 
lines in the titlepage ; but here is the stanza in full : — 

" The stars with deep amaze 
Stand fix'd in steadfast gaze. 

The Sun himself withheld his wonted speed ; 
And hid his face for shame, 
As his inferior flame 

The new enlighten'd world no more should need : 
He saw a Greater Sun appear 
Than his bright throne or burning axle-tree could bear." 

The Shepherds, I daresay, were for a moment dumb with 
amazement. But looking at one another, they said, — " Do not 
let us be afraid. Do not let us doubt the word of the Angels ; 
or even wait for the morning light. Let us at once leave our 
sheep and go up the slope to Bethlehem, and see with our own 
eyes this wondrous sight." 

So, no sooner have the last notes of the heavenly song died 
away in the darkness, than they proceeded up the ascent through 
the vineyards. We are told " they went with haste," taking the 
shortest footpath they could see to reach the city gate. 

Continuing their way along the steep and narrow streets, they 
found it to be all true what the Angels had told them. They saw 
a dim light, fed with olive-oil, bm^ning in the Inn stable, and 
Joseph and ..Mary seated by a manger. 



EARLY DAWN. 23 



Imagine what they must have felt, when, passing from stall 
to stall, their eyes first fell on the little infant Babe, lying 
in that rough wooden cradle, wrapped in the usual coarse blue 
material used for swaddling-bands ! Mary seemed to have been 
afraid lest the animals around might trample on Him. So, with 
a mother's care and love, she had lifted Him for safety, and placed 
Him in one of the empty troughs from which the beasts of burden 
ate their food. 

"Every fox had where to rest, 
Every little bird its nest, 
But the Great God the worlds who made 
Had not where to lay His head ! '' 

A great Painter you may have heard of, called Murillo, has 
more than once represented this scene. He has a beautiful and 
favourite idea in his pictures of "The Nativity." He makes the light 
which shmes on the faces of the Shepherds not to come from any 
lamp hanging from the rafters, but from the face of the Holy 
Infant Child, The only authority which the famou.s artist had 
for his treatment of this sacred subject was from a false Gospel 
of the early ages, called " The G-ospel of the Infancy," in which 
the grotto, dark in itself, is spoken of as being filled (strange that 
the very words are used which I have given as a name to this 
volume) with light " Brighter than the Sun." But there was in 
this expressed, at all events, a touching truth ; — not only that 
that Infant Child was the Light of the World, but left, as He 
was, neglected and unowned, to be born in a lowly manger^ 
" The Light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehended 
it not." 

I have seen the spot in Bethlehem which is supposed to be 
the birthplace of Jesus. It is a limestone cave, which is reached 
by a flight of steps. Sixteen lamps hang from the roof. A silver 
star is in the centre of a smaller gTotto hollowed out from the 
bigger one; and the words are put in Latin, "In this place Jesus 
Christ was born of the Virgin Mary." Close by, also in the 
rock, there is pointed out the alleged situation of the manger- 
cradle. It is cased in white marble, and lamps with fragrant 



24 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

incense burn always before it night and day. Many pilgriins 
who visit the cave are seen to fall on their knees, and, with 
tears rolling down their cheeks, kiss the pavement. No one can 
possibly tell if this be really the true spot where the birth of 
Jesus took place. But while naost others of what are called 
" sacred places " in Palestine cannot be relied on, I think we have 
strong groimd to accept the truth of the tradition connected with 
this grotto. 

At all events, none can enter the gates of Bethlehem, and 
walk up its long street, without saying to themselves, " Oh, how 
wonderful to think that, some way near, the Great Lord of Glory 
first appeared in the world as a feeble Child ! " 

I like to think that these Shepherds tending their sheep were 
the earliest worshippers of the New-born King ; that it was to 
them the Herald Angels first sang the story and the song 
of grace. 

Do you ask me why I like to think this ? 

It is because they were ipoor men. God wished thus to honour 
the poor in every age. Yes ; let those who live in poor houses 
or cottages, and who work for their daily bread, remember that 
the first selected in Palestine and in the world to hear of the 
birth of Jesus, and who came to worship Him, were not those with 
great riches or clad in princely attire ; — not the soldiers of Eome 
who in glittering armour paced the walls of Jerusalem ; not 
Herod's courtiers or favourites in his splendid palace on Zion ; 
not learned Eabbis and Priests and Scribes ; — but men with 
shepherd's crooks and coarse clothing from the hills of Judah. 
The Bible is the Friend of the poor. These keepers of their flocks 
may have often sung together, in their lonely night-watches, words 
which one who knew these valleys well warbled in his latter days : 
— words which speak most truly of Him at whose infant cradle 
they were the first to kneel, — 

" He shall deliver the needy when he crieth ; 
The poor also, and him that hath no helper. 
He shall spare the poor and needy, 
And shall save the souls of the needy T — (Ps. Ixxii. 12, 13.) 



EARLY DAWN. 25 



I have spoken of BetMehem in connection with Boaz and Euth 
and David. It may not be without interest to mention, that one 
writer has given some ingenious reasons for supposing that the 
Inn in which Jesus was born may have been the very house in 
which Boaz and Euth had lived, which had descended to Jesse 
the father of David, and in which, therefore, the Sweet Singer 
of Israel had himself dwelt, when, as a little boy, he fed his 
father's flock.^ It would take too long to explain the grounds 
which have led to this conclusion. We cannot be at aU sure 
about it. But certainly it is interesting even the possibility 
that Mary, on reaching Bethlehem, had been directed to the 
home of her distant fathers and grandfathers, and that her Divine 
Child, the world's Great Eedeemer, was born in the same spot 
where the gentle Moabitess had dwelt with princely Boaz, and 
whose walls had listened to David's earliest prayers. 

One other remark wiU naturally close this portion of the 
Divine story. As little children among ourselves are baptized, 
and receive a name by which they are known all through their 
lives ; so the Holy Child of Betlilehem, eight days after His birth, 
was circumcised according to the Jewish law, and called Jesus. 
Most of the proud rulers and kings and warriors of the world 
have distinguished themselves by high-sounding titles, such as 
" The Great," " The Grand," " The Wise," " The Mighty," " The 
Magnificent." The name "Jesus" has really a much more beautiful 
meaning than any of these. It is the Greek form of the Hebrew 
name Joshua, which means " The Help " or " Salvation of Jehovah," 
— (" tlie, Saviour "). It was in accordance with what the Angel 
told Joseph in a dream, " Thou shall call His name Jesus, for He 
shall SAVE His people from their sins." 

Thus, then, the first faint fiush of early morn, which we descried 
over the hills of Nazareth, has passed into sunrise. The first 
golden gleam of the All-glorious Orb is lighting up the pas- 
toral valleys of Bethlehem, — and a rejoicing world can say — ■ 
" The Dayspeing from on high hath visited us." 



26 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

III. 

I^e is taftcn up to tl)e Eemple. 

What a beautiful building that is ! It is pure and milk-white. 
So bright are its stones and rich its carvings, it seems like the 
work of angels. How its roof, covered with plates and spikes of 
gold, glows as if with fire ! 

There is a deep valley immediately beneath, with a stream 
flowing along a rocky channel; and on the other side a green 
mountain with three tops. The mountain is dotted over with 
clumps of trees. Many of the trees have knotted, twisted stems 
and grey leaves. Here and there are also tapering palms and 
dark cedars, with flocks of doves perched on their branches. 
There is the fig, too ; and prettiest perhaps of all, specially in 
early spring, is the almond-tree, so rich in blossom, as if snow- 
flakes had just been showered upon it, and these had been turned 
into crimson. 

Can you guess what mountain I mean ? 

That green hill is the Mount of Olives; the prevaiKng olive-tree 
gives it its name. That great pile fronting it, with its marble 
pillars and golden pinnacles, is the Tem2Jle of Jerusalem. It 
was magnificent in King Solomon's time, its first builder, but it 
is more so than ever now. How grand it must have been in the 
still morning, when the smoke went up from the huge altar of 
rough stones ; or on the Festival Seasons, when, loud above the 
din of the streets close by, rose the blast of the silver trumpets 
and the music of the Temple-Psalms ; when hundreds of sweet 
clear voices were heard singing, " Oh, give thanks unto the Lord, for 
He is good, for His mercy endureth for ever ! " 

Let us go and stand in the middle of its courts. The occasion 
of which I am now to speak is not a Great Feast day. There is 
no crowd. I can fancy I see Mary of Nazareth, the young mother 



EARLY DAWN. 27 



we beheld six weeks ago seated by ber Babe in the manger. She 
is attired in a humble dress, just like a peasant. 

Yes, it is the same. We can follow her and Joseph and the 
Divine Infant in thought, as they leave home early that morning. 
I think I see them walking along the road from Bethlehem. They 
pass the tomb of Eachel, Jacob's loved wife ; then Jerusalem 
bursts upon their sight, with Herod's Palace crowning the heights 
of Mount Zion. How peacefully and joyfully Mary gazes on the 
face of her -little child as she carries Him in her arms I Her 
kind husband is at her side. He seems, now that we see him in 
broad daylight, much older than she. He also has something in 
his hands. It looks like two of the lovely white turtle-doves I 
have just spoken about, flocking round the cedar-trees or perched 
on their branches in the sun. 

They approach God's Holy House, like most of the wor- 
shippers, by the eastern gate, called the Gate Shushan ; the 
same gate through which often, in later years. He, who was now 
borne a feeble infant, used to enter with some lowly Galilean 
fishermen. 

As this " going up to the Temple " will often occur in 
future pages, I may as well at once try briefly to describe 
to you its various courts, on the occasion of this first visit of 
Jesus. 

He and His parents would pass through what were called " the 
cloisters," of which Herod, who planned them, seemed to have 
been specially proud. Indeed, I believe I am right in saying, 
there was nothing equal to these in any temple of the ancient 
world. As " the Tower of David " was " builded for an armoury, 
whereon there hung a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty 
men " (Sol. Song iv. 4), or as the Temple of Victory in Eome 
was adorned with what were called ' trophies ' — crowns and 
bracelets, vessels of gold and silver, swords and spears, hel- 
mets and battleaxes taken in war — so in front of these cloisters, 
we are told by the Jewish historian, were suspended similar spoils 
and weapons. The Infant Prince of Peace, He whose religion of 
peace is, one day at least, to cause men to " beat their swords into 



18 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

ploughshares and their sjDears into priming-hooks," was now pass- 
ing under the emblems of battle and conquest ! 

It was in this first outer court that a richly-carved stone 
screen, three cubits in height, was erected, on which letters werfe 
placed, both in Eoman and Greek, forbidding any Gentile to go 
farther. 

Continuing their way over the bright inlaid pavement, they 
came to what was not the least wonderful thing in the vast 
building — the centre gate which led into the inner court. It 
bore a name to which it was well entitled, " The Gate, Beautiful^ 
Like many things in ancient times, it was also of great size, as 
well as of great beauty. Josephus tells it was forty cubits high, 
and could only be opened and shut with the help of twenty men. 
The other nine gates which led into this second court were covered 
with plates of gold and silver, but tliis one was made of Corin- 
thian brass, richly carved, and shone with the brilliancy of the 
sun. Herod had placed over it the huge image of an eagle — the 
emblem of the power of Eome. 

Passing yet along, they came to fifteen steps. These led to a 
still higher platform, called the Court of the Priests, in the 
centre of which was the Altar of Burnt-offering. Mary, Joseph, 
and the Child, after ascending this flight of steps, stood by the 
open rail at the entrance. Before them, rising beyond the altar, 
amid a throng of priests, was the Holy Place itself, its outside 
glittering with marble and gold. Of the inside they could see 
nothing, save perhaps the golden grape-clusters that hung from 
the vine adorning its cedar portico. 

Wliat has brought " The Holy Family " to the Temple, and 
what are they going to do there ? I see other mothers carrying 
their infants, just as Mary does. Some fathers, like Joseph, have 
brought with them full-grown turtle-doves , some have young- 
pigeons, others have a bleating lamb. But these gifts, whether 
doves, or pigeons, or lambs, are given into the hand of a priest 
clad in white robes, to be offered to God in sacrifice. 

I think you would like me to explain more fully the meaning 
and purpose of this. 



EARLY DAWN. 29 



Every mother in Israel was required, forty days after liei first 
boy-child was born, to take him into the Temple " and present him 
to the Lord." If the child's parents were rich, then they could 
afford to procure a lamb, and bring it as an offering. But if they 
were poor, and lived in humble homes, and had not money to pay 
for a lamb, then God graciously allowed them to bring instead 
" a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons." The father and 
mother of Jesus were too poor to get the better offering ; they 
were glad therefore to present that which was not so costly. These 
two birds which Joseph was carrying by the side of the Holy 
Child tell you and me, my young readers, how poor Jesus was. 
His was the gift which was graciously provided for the humblest 
of the people — " TJioiigh He was rich, yet for our sctkes He became 
poor." 

One priest takes the two doves. ' He offers them both in 
sacrifice " before the Lord " (Lev. xii. 7) on the Great Brazen 
Altar. Then another comes forward and receives the Divine 
Infant in his arms. He puts the question to Mary, " Is this 
your first-born son ? " On Mary replying that He is so, the priest 
answers, " The Child being the first-born, belongs to the Lord : you 
cannot receive Him back unless you are wUling to pay the re- 
demption price. As it is written in the law, 'All the first-lorn 
of f)ian among thy children shalt thou redeem.' " Mary and Joseph 
were quite aware, in presenting the Holy Jesus, that this question 
would be put to them, and this redemption money demanded. Ac- 
cordingly Joseph takes five shekels, which he has all ready, from 
his leathern girdle, and gives them to the officiating Levite. Each 
shekel was worth about half-a-crown of our money. On pay- 
ment of the stipulated sum, the Heavenly Babe is replaced in 
Mary's hands. 

How Little does that priest imagine that this. Infant of days 
is, in a sense which belongs to Him alone, " the First-born and 
Prince of the Kings of the Earth" (Rev. i. 5). It may be, had he 
and his fellow Levites known Who it was that had thus " sud- 
denly come to His Temple" (Mai. iii. i), they would have made 
its courts resound with the beautiful Song of Isaiah, — 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



" Unto us a Child is horn, 
Unto us a Son is given ; 

And the government shall be upon His shoulder^ 
And His name shall be called 
Wonder/id, Gounseller, The Mighty God, 
The Everlasting Father, 
The Prince of Peace" — (ISA. ix. 6.) 

There were others, however, then ui the Temple who had been 
long waiting for that blissful moment, and eaisfer to sincf that song 
of welcome. 

One was an aged worshipper whose name was Simeon. In 
all the pictures I have seen of him, he looks so calm and tran- 
quil and joyful. So beautiful, too, with his long flowing silvery- 
beard, and his eyes lifted up to heaven. Some have said that he 
was even now more than a hundred years old. 

This man was honoured, because God had told him that he was 
sure, one day before he died, to see Jesus the Messiah, who was 
coming to " comfort Israel" (Luke ii. 25). 

Thus was he living in constant expectation of hailing HlM who 
was ' Brighter than the Sun,' and the very promise of whose rising 
seemed to bless and enlighten the evening of a long life. He 
never gave up hope. I think I see him with tottering step, lean- 
ing on his staff, ascending morning after morning the Hill of Zion, 
as the traveller climbs the mountain or the sentinel his watch- 
tower, to catch sight of the earliest beam; — saying to himself, 
" I wonder much if I shall see Him to-day ? " Probably words 
often on his lips would be these, — 

" My soul waiteth for the Lord 
More than they that watch for the morning : 
I say, more than they that watch for the morning.'^ — (Ps. cxxx. 6.) 

At that moment of which I have been speaking, when he saw 
Joseph and Mary and the Divine Babe first coming up the marble 
staircase which led into the Great Court, and then passing into the 
Court of Sacrifice, a voice seemed to say to him, " Simeon, ' the 
gladsome hour is at last come. The Infant carried by that humble 



EARLY DAWN. 31 



carpenter's yoimg wife is the promised Saviour of mankind. Go, 
take Him in your arms and bless Him ' ! " 

Do you not almost suppose lie would be inclined to say to him- 
self, " Impossible ! This little helpless Child cannot be the Mes- 
siah who has formed the subject of my lifelong prayers. I have 
been expecting a glorious King, this is only the first-born of a 
peasant of Galilee." 

But Simeon never doubted God's word and God's guidance. 
I daresay at first he could scarce believe for very joy. But he 
went and took hold of the wondrous Infant, and, gazing on His 
face, he thanked and praised God, and said that he was now 
ready and pleased to leave the world. He had seen the glorious 
Light which for years he had lived for and longed for. 

J like to think of that kind old Patriarch with Jesus in his 
arms and salvation on his tongue. I don't imagine there was such 
a happy man in aU the world. He could not resist thus giving 
vent to his joy, — 

*' Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in joeace, 
According to Thy tvord : 
For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, 
Which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people ; 
A light to lighten the Gentiles, 
And the glory of Thy people Israel." — (Luke ii. 29-32.) 

The aged man then turned to Mary, and after bestowing upon 
her his blessing, and declaring that her Child was " Set for the 
fall and rising again of many in Israel," he added the words — 
" Yea, a sword shall 'pierce, through thy own soul also " (Luke 
ii- 3 5)- What did he mean by this? 

At the end of this Book we shall find how truthfully his say- 
ing was fulfilled. The time was coming when, not very far from 
where Simeon now sang his beautiful song, Jesus ~ was to be 
kiUed by wicked men. On one of the hillocks of that green 
valley (for there I think Calvary was). His enemies were to drive 
nails into His hands and feet and a rough iron spear into His 
side, and subject Him to the awful death of the cross. Mary 



3a BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

would then be so grieved for her Divine Son, that, as Simeon 
tells her, it would be like " a sword " plunged into her own heart. 
Slie would not be likely to forget the aged worshipper's words. 
It may be from that very hour she often thought of them, and 
had some sad fear every now and then present with her as to 
the future. The saying of Simeon reminds me of some old lines 
in a Welsh book of prayer. The prayer is in the Welsh 
language, but I give it in the words of an English translator. It 
is somewhat remarkable that the Welsh peasants used in former 
times to repeat these lines daily along with their other devotions. 
They are about the sword piercing the heart of the Virgin 
Mother, — 

" ' Mother, O Mother, tell me, art thou weeping?' 

The Infant Jesus asked, on Mary's breast, 
'Nay, Cliild,' she answered, ' I am only sleeping, 

Though, vexed by many a thought, I cannot rest.' 
' I\Iother, tell me why thy heart is failing ? ' 

' I see,' she said, ' a crown of prickly thorn, 
And Thee, my Child, upon the cross of wailing. 

All Heaven amazed at earth's ungrateful scorn.' " 

But it was not old men alone, like Simeon, who were made 
happy by the thought that Jesus had come. Perhaps it was a 
happier thing still for Jewish women, and for all women, that such 
a Eedeemer was born. 

Before this kind and gracious Saviour appeared in the world, 
mothers and daughters were cruelly used and cruelly suffered. 
Jesus was the first to speak kind words to them, and to say 
(as we shall find him addressing the mother with the broken heart 
at Nain), " Weep not." 

I like to think that no sooner had aged Simeon given back to 
Mary her beloved Child, than at the same instant another aged 
worshipper — an aged woman, bent down with a load of years — 
came into the Temple. Her name was Anna. Her husband had 
died when she was very young. She was good and holy too. 
She loved much the courts of the Lord. She almost never left 



EARLY DAWN. 33 



them. No sooner were the large cedar gates thrown open in 
early morning than she was seen to enter, and she only left when 
the last rays of the sun were lighting np the top of the Mount of 
Olives. Like Simeon she was fond of prayer. Her chiefest 
prayer, we may well believe, would be, like his, for the coming of 
the promised Jesus. 

God again showed how He loves to answer His believing 
people. Her prayers are turned into praises, for she too gazes 
on the Divine Eedeemer. In that hour of which we are now 
speaking, she seems to have gathered a cluster around her of 
those who were then worshipping in the Temple, and she told 
them through joyful tears the wonderful Story of grace. 

Thus to an old man and an old woman was revealed what still 
was hidden from the knowledge of priests, and rulers, and learned 
Eabbis. Oh, how God always rewards simple faith and patience ! 

Can you remember a beautiful verse about these two Christian 
graces ? Here it is : — " TJiat ye he not slothful, hut followers of 
them %olio through faith and patience inherit the promises." Simeon 
and Anna were possessed of both. They had Faith (looking for 
Jesus). They had Patience (waiting for Jesus). Through that 
Faith and that Patience they came to inherit the greatest promise 
which the Great and Faithful Promiser had ever given to fallen 
man and a fallen world ! " Unto you that fear My name shall 
THE Sun of Eighteousness arise." We hear no more after 
this about these two aged Temple-Saints. They appear like 
bright morning stars heralding the Day-dawn, and then they 
vanish from the firmament — lost in that better and Brighter 
radiance. 

We can only picture Joseph, Mary, and the Child, remaiaing 
perhaps under the cool stone pillars, or under the shade of the 
trees, till the heat of the day was over, and then going back again 
in the calm of the evening to their humble home iu Bethlehem. 
I need not say they were no longer living now in the Inn. They 
must have taken up their abode in some other house in the Town 
of David. 



34 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

IV. 

SEtse Mtn from tije East Vi&it Htm, 

But there were other heralds already on their way, from remote 
Gentile lands, to do homage to this mysterious Infant, whom aged 
Simeon had recently sung of as " a Light to lighten the Gentiles," 
as Avell as " the glory of God's people Israel." A strange silent 
messenger had been sent to tell of the Great Sunrise on the 
Hebrew mountains. Distant tongues were tuned to sing your 
best-known Christmas Hymn, — 

" Hail the Heaven-horn Prince of Peace I 
Hail the Sun of Righteousness ! 
Light and life to all He brings, 
Ris'n with healing in His wings." 

In the countries far east of Palestine and the Jordan there lived 
a number of men called " Magi." They were greatly esteemed at 
the courts of Oriental kings. Daniel, you may remember, though 
no idolator, but, on the contrary, a faithful servant of the true God, 
could be known by no more illustrious name than " Chief of the 
governors over all the wise men of Babylon" (Dan. ii. 14). 
Many of them, however, unlike him, were " fire- worshippers." 
They paid religious homage to the sun and moon and the host 
of heaven. They had their watch-towers, corresjionding to our 
observatories, along the banks of the Tigris and other Eastern 
rivers, to allow them to study the heavenly bodies. The stars 
seen in the skies of Chaldea, Media, and Persia were, I daresay, 
even more beautiful than those seen in Palestine. 

One night some of these Magi, as they looked up to the firma- 
ment, observed a new star, brighter than the rest. Along with 
many others in Eastern countries, they expected at this period the 
coming of a Great King who was to rule over the whole world 



36 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

found who was born " King of the Jews ? " " We have seen" they 
said, " His star in the east, and are come to worship Him." 

First to one and then to another they met on the streets the 
same earnest question was asked, " Tell us where is He that is bom 
King of the Jews ? " 

How singular their appearance as well as their question must 
have been ! I have seen, now and then, foreigners with turbans 
on theu' heads and curious dresses, walking along the streets of 
London or Edinburgh, and the people as they pass gazing upon 
them with wonder. How much stranger it must have been to 
the Jews in Jerusalem to see these richly-dressed men seated on 
the backs of their camels, with l^racelets and nose-jewels, and to 
hear them in some broken Eastern tongue asking, as they move 
in a long line with noiseless tread through the streets, about the 
birth of a King of Judea ! I am quite certain their appearance 
created a great stir in the city. 

Surely they must have been very trusting and simple in their 
faith ! They might naturally have expected all Jerusalem to be 
ringing with the news about the young King, — that the glorious 
tidings would be on every lip, and that crowds would be flocking 
to the place of His birth. 

How different ! No one seemed either to know or to care 
anything about the matter. Do the Magi turn their camels' heads 
at once towards the East and make for their own homes, vexed 
and displeased that their long journey has been in vain ? No : 
they start again all alone in the direction of Bethlehem. They 
know that the God of heaven was speaking to them and guiding 
them by His own star. They were the first to breathe, at all events 
in their hearts, the beautiful invocation of a future hymn, — 

" Brightest and best of the Sons of the morning ! 
Dawn on our darkness and lend us your aid ; 
Star of the East, the horizon adorning ! 
Guide where the Infant Redeemer is laid." 

The great Lord in their case made His own promise true — " Then 
shall we know if we follow on." 



EARLY DAWN. 37 



It is very likely they had rested at Jerusalem, during the day, 
after their long journey, and waited till evening before setting 
out again. At all events, from what is said in the Bible story, 
the bright star seems to have been withdrawn for a while from 
their view. I am sure they would be very sorry to lose the help 
of their heavenly light. But as they went a little farther on their 
road, how glad they were, probably as the sun was setting over the 
hills at their right, when it appeared once more above their heads ! 

I remember stopping at a well halfway between Jerusalem and 
Bethlehem, about which there is a curious tradition in connection 
with the star. I do not repeat the story as a true one, because 
it is not in the Bible, and we should be careful as to receiving 
anything which is not expressly written in the Word of God. 
But the tradition still believed by Christians in Bethlehem is this. 
These wise men, on losing sight of the star which had hitherto 
guided them from their own country to Jerusalem, were greatly 
vexed, for they did not know whether the road they pursued 
was the right one. They seated themselves by the brink of 
this well. But in stooping over it to get drink for themselves 
and their camels, they saw the missing star reflected low down in 
the water ; and in looking up to the sky above them, there it 
was. They rose with glad hearts, and followed the silent guide 
in its silvery path. It passed right over the quivering palms at 
the gate of Bethlehem, then over the flat roofs of many of the 
houses, tin it stood over the place where the young Child lay. 

We may be sure the stranger worshippers lost no time in 
unloading their beasts of burden and taking out the valuable 
things they had brought with them, " gold, and frankincense, and 
myrrh." Gold from the mines of Ophir or from the beds of their 
rivers. Frankincense and myrrh — jars of fragrant gums and 
precious oils, resins extracted from the trees of Arabia or India 
— something perhaps resembling the " attar of roses," sold to this 
day in all the bazaars of the chief towns of Asia. 

I should perhaps teU you, that tradition has been busy here too 
in giving alike the names and ages of these " Wise men ;" or, as 
some call them, " Eastern Kings." One was Melchior, an old man 



38 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

with a silver beard. Another Belthazar, in full-grown manhood. 
The third Caspar, a youth. The three stages of human existence, 
the morning, meridian, and sunset of life, come to do homage to 
One " Brighter than the Sun !" 

How strange it must have been for those used to splendid houses 
and hanging gardens and brilliant dresses in the East, to enter 
some lowly abode in the City of David, and find a humble man 
and woman bending over a little helpless Babe ! But these good 
travellers do not seem startled. They fall down before the Holy 
Child, their foreheads touching the floor. They strew their presents 
at His feet, and then return with rejoicing hearts to their far 
distant homes. 

" Saw yon never in the twilight, 
When the sun had left the skies. 
Up in heaven the clear stars shining, 

Through the gloom like silver eyes ? 
So of old the wise men, watching, 

Saw a little stranger star, 
And they knew the King was given, 
And they followed it from far. 
" You have listened to the story, 

How they crossed the desert wild. 
Journeyed on by plain and mountain. 

Till they found the Holy Child. 
You may also seek His cradle. 

There your heart's best treasures bring, 
Love, and Faith, and true Devotion, 
For your Saviour-God, and King." 

My young friends, I would like you to pause for a moment 
and recall the number and variety of worshippers the Infant Jesus 
had. Think of all, both in heaven and on earth, that had united 
to do Him homage ! 

I. There were the bright Angels sent to the plains of Bethlehem 
to tell of the Heavenly palace He had left, 

II. There was the beautiful Star in the deep blue above, telling 
of the interest felt by silent nature and by far distant worlds in 
the Divine Child. 



EARLY DAWN. 39 



III. There was old Simeon and Anna, telling that grey-haired 
age was not ashamed to come and welcome " an Infant of Days " 
as the Lord and Savionr. 

IV. There were the Wise Men of the East, Oriental princes — 
reminding of the rich and great, and noble and learned, who 
would in future feel honoured to own Him and adore Him. 
" The Kings of Tarshish and of the Isles shall bring presents ; the 
Kings of Seba and Sheba shall offer gifts." 

V. There were the Shepherds from the hills of Judah, telling 
how He came to be the Friend of the poor, and simple, and 
unlearned; — those who have none of the world's wisdom, or the 
world's riches and splendours. 

All seemed to unite in saying, "This ' Sun of Eighteousness,' who 
has risen with healing in His beams, is like His type and image 
in the sky. He is to shine alike on all : on palace, and on 
cottage, on rich and on poor, on mighty and on lowly, on king 
and on beggar, on old and young, on age and on childhood." His 
glorious JSTame, which stands as a motto on the title-page of this 
Book, is not " I am the Star of Bethlehem," " I am the Golden 
Lamp of the Temple of Jerusalem," " I am the Light of Israel." 
No ; "I AM THE Light of the World." Just as there are planets 
of different sizes and brilliancy, which circle round the central 
sun of our solar system, so do stars of diverse " magnitudes " 
revolve round this Great Centre of the spiritual universe. 

I close this chapter with one thought that has special reference 
to those younger than the youngest portion of my youthful readers. 
" Hoio kind it was in Jesus to come in the form of a little Child !" 

He might have descended to earth all at once, like the fabled 
gods of the heathen, in the fulness and strength of perfect man- 
hood; "The Light of the World" might have had no day- 
spring, no early dawn, no streaks in the Eastern sky. He might 
have blazed forth suddenly in the brightness and lustre of His 
dazzling noontide glory. His countenance might have been " as 
the snn shineth in its strength " (Eev, i. 16). It would in one 
sense have been much more startling and impressive if He had 



40 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

never lain an unconscious babe on His mother's knee — never been 
borne helpless in her arms, or rocked by her in His cradle in 
infant slumbers, or had a child's lullaby sung over Him. He 
might have been created just as we believe the bright Angels in 
heaven to have been created. They never knew the lispings of 
infancy. They were made all at once to excel in strength. 
Without passing through any previous stages of being, their 
mighty wings were outstretched in messages of love, doing the 
will of God. Not so, however, was it with Jesus. As in the 
case of Moses in his little frail ark of bulrushes by the river's 
side, when the wail of an infant was borne to the ear of Pharaoh's 
daughter ; so God seems to say to the lowly Mary of Nazareth, 
" Take this child, and nurse Him for Me." 

Why was it so ? There may be other reasons : but one 
assuredly was, that the very youngest might be able to say, 
' Jesus was once as I am. Jesus knows my heart-sores and 
heart-aches, for He was once Himself a feeble Child. . He once lay 
helpless in a manger-cradle. He rushed to pour out His sorrows 
and vexations in His mother's ears : — He lisped His prayers at 
His mother's knee. While grown-up people may best love His 
name " Immanuel, God with us," I best love His other name, 
" The Holy Child Jems." ' 

A good old Father of the Church who lived very long ago, 
whose name was Irenaeus, has this sweet saying — " Jesus made 
childhood lovely" (and he might have added too. He made a 
childhood oi poverty lovely), " by passing through it." 
" Made like the sons of clay, 
Thy matchless glories lay, 
In form of feeble iufaucy concealed. 
No pomp of outward sign 
Proclaimed the Power Divine, 
No earthly state the Heavenly Guest revealed. 
" Thou didst not choose Thy home 
Beneath a lordly dome ; 
No royal crown did wreath Thy infant brow ; 
Nor on a soft couch laid, 
Nor in rich vest arrayed, 
But with the poorest of the poor wert Thou." 



EARLY DAWN, 41 



V. 

fUerotr tries to Ittll fitm. 

I HAVE just narrated the story of the Wise Men from the East 
coming to worship the meek and lowly Jesus. 

I think you will not be surprised when I tell you who was the 
one person iu Jerusalem who was very angry when he heard of 
their visit. It was King Herod. He was a miserable old man. 
You may say truly, in one respect he ought to have been a very 
happy man, for he was, in the earthly sense of the word, ' Great,' 
and made himself to be called so. He wore a crown, and had 
numbers of servants and slaves dressed in cloth of blue and 
crimson and gold to wait upon him, and soldiers in coats of 
brilliant armour to guard him. He had one vast palace with 
cedar-walls iu Jerusalem, another at Jericho with delicious 
gardens, — groves of palm and balsam, and every lovely shrub and 
flower. Another, haK-palace haK-fortress, on a mountain (Je'bel 
Fureidis), which he called his " Paradise," and which was visible 
from many of the heights around Jerusalem. His youth had 
been one of rare promise. Even in outward appearance there 
were few like him, — with his finely-formed figure, his thoughtful 
countenance, his jet-black locks. Like another Absalom, he had 
stolen the hearts of many who were proud of his stately mien and 
fearless courage, alike in the battle and in the chase. He was famed, 
too, for higher qualities. He had a love for study. He had 
stored his mind with the learning of the age. He was passion- 
ately fond of art. ISTo single king, perhaps, who ever lived, built more 
numerous or more splendid cities and towers, theatres and temples, 
than he. Possibly, if he had been under better training, he might 
have turned out at once a famous and a good man. But as he 
advanced in years, he became more and more a tyrant and 
despot, and "sold himself to work iniquity." The tiger or leopard, 



42 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

which when young can be stroked and caressed, comes, after 
tasting blood, to show the ferocity of its nature. So it was with 
Herod. He became like a savage wild beast in his old age. 
One dreadful crime made him bold to attempt another ; and yet 
he had no sooner committed his enormities than he was often 
seized with remorse and horror. In a fit, half of jealousy haK of 
sport, he had drowned, in one of the baths in his Jericho palace, 
his noble and beautiful brother-in-law, the Jewish High Priest, at 
the early age of eighteen. He had killed his wife, his three sons 
and uncle, besides other nobles and friends, and many, many 
hundreds of innocent subjects : — some with the sword, some by 
fire, some by prolonged torture ; some were left to linger in chains, 
some were scourged to death with rods. 

Well, when the news reached this wicked old King that Angels 
had been heard singing in the sky about a little Child born in 
Bethlehem ; still more, when he heard about this bright silver 
lamp that had been hung in the heavens, guiding the Wise Men, 
he became greatly troubled. He had been told by some learned 
teachers in Jerusalem that the Jewish prophets, and specially 
their prophet Micah, had said that Bethlehem was the place where 
the promised King of the Jews was to be born. He must have 
known well, too, about Balaam's prophecy ; for he was himseK 
an Edomite, and as such he may perhaps have felt that he had 
no right to the crown of Judah. He feared that if all he had 
learnt were indeed true, a Child horn in Judah might live to 
become his rival ; — that by this Child he might lose his throne 
and be put out of his kingdom, — perhaps placed in chains in a 
dungeon, and at last killed. 

The Magi seem to have been conducted to his presence. You 
can imagine the scene in the Cedar Palace I have spoken of: he 
would receive this Eastern embassy in great splendour, — perhaps 
in his state-room with its throne of ivory, sculptured lions flanking 
its marble steps, he himself wearing his purple robe, a collar 
of massive gold round his neck, and his sword-hilt sparkling with 
jewels. Herod, like most base natures, was a master in the art 
of cunning, or what is called 'duplicity.' He wished to give 



EARLY DAWN. 43 



these "Wise ]\Ien the impression that he was deeply interested in 
Trhat had brought them from their distant homes. • He told them 
to go to Bethlehem, and ask all about this kingly young Child, 
and bring him back word again, that he might drive out there in 
his royal chariot and worship him too. 

We shall presently find he had very different thoughts in his 
A'(!ngeful and jealous heart. He was very angry that these 
Strangers had come not to worship Mm, but to worship the Babe 
of ISTazareth peasants, and that they had left none of their golden 
gifts in his royal house. 

What made him still more displeased was, when he found that 
they had gone away to thek distant homes without coming to see 
him again, and tell him about the mysterious Infant : for God 
had warned these good men not to come back by Jerusalem. 

Herod's will was always obeyed : but when he saw now that it 
was not, the blood rose to his cheeks and the fire flashed in 
his eye. 

It is said in the Talmud that he gave instructions to have all the 
records of Jewish families destroyed, the registers of family births and 
family names which were kept in the Temple. Whether he did so 
or no we are not informed in the Bible narrative. It would have 
been an act of wanton mischief and cowardly fear — no more. But 
the Bible story dms disclose to us a decree of the darkest and most 
selfish cruelty, which he proceeded quickly to put in force. He 
said, ' I will give orders that all the male children in Bethlehem, 
under two years of age, be slain with the sword.' He knew that 
if he did this, the Infant Jesus would be sure to be killed, and 
thus he would get rid of his fears. He gathers his captains and 
of&cers about him, and tells them of the horrible crime he has 
resolved upon. I daresay many of the manly and brave Eoman 
soldiers who stood in his presence and listened to his dreadful 
injunctions would shudder at the thought of so many infant 
children cruelly perishing. A really brave heart always shrinks 
from hurting the poor or weak or innocent. 

But they know weU they could not resist the word of their 
angry master. He would doubtless take care to pick out the 



44 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



most hard-hearted he could find for the sad work. " Kill evei7 
one of them," would be his command ; " let none be left." 

Not only so, but you will observe the cruel order was not con- 
fined to the town of Bethlehem. It extended to what is called 
in the Gospel of St. Matthew its " coasts." What, you will ask, 
does ' coast ' mean ? for there was no sea — which the word 
' coast ' seems to imply — where the inland town of Da^dd 
was situated. 

Coast, in the Bible, means " the district," with its hamlets and 
homesteads, lying all around. There were many such, nestling 
sweetly in the little valleys close by Bethlehem. Specially near 
Solomon's Gardens and Solomon's Pools, there would be terraced 
vineyards, having " lodges " or " watch-towers," with families living 
in them ; while shepherd's homes and ' shielings ' would be in 
the less cultivated spots. 

You may imagine that company of murderers setting out from 
the gates of Jerusalem on their way to Bethlehem and its neigh- 
bourhood. Little does many a mother in that quiet and peaceful 
city and its peaceful coasts know what, in a brief hour, she will be 
called to witness and endure ! In the town itself, and in these 
cottages and hamlets I have alluded to, perched on the hillsides 
in the midst of vineyards and olive-gardens, many little Hebrew 
boy-children were that morning seen, some lying peacefully by 
their mother's side in their cradles, others playing about their 
mother's feet, or climbing on their father's knee before he went 
out to work. A few were even beginning to be taught to lisp 
the name of their father's God, and to sing some hymns or 
psalms to His praise. Their parents, as they gazed on their inno- 
cent faces, would think of them with pride as growing up to 
manhood, and say of them, " This same shall comfort us." 

Suddenly a wild shriek rises. These same mothers, who were 
seen so recently sitting at their distaffs and looking so happily 
on their Ksping babes (or perhaps carrying them in their arms to 
the neighbouring fountain as they went to draw water), are now 
rushing about the streets and highways in frantic grief, wringing 
their hands, tearing their hair, beating their breasts, and crying 



EARLY DAWN. 45 



out, " Oh, my child ! my child ! " They implore the soldiers to 
have mercy. " Spare him ! " one is heard crying, " he is my 
only one ; if you take him you take my all." " Spare him," 
another is heard saying, " he is my Benjamin, my best beloved ; 
none are so dear to me as he ! " 

But all their pleadings, and tears, and cries are in vain. The 
iron-hearted assassins of Herod are deaf to the voice of affection. 
No house in these ' coasts ' is without its trampled flower, — no 
mother without her dead son. 

Oh, what a night of weeping that must have been ! There T^^as 
not so much as one infant boy left. I have told you of the tomb 
of Eachel, which was close by Bethlehem. So sad and bitter was 
the weeping of these Jewish women over their Innocents, that the 
sacred writer (in what is called 'a figure of speech'), describes 
this Mother of Israel as being roused from her grave ; just as if 
she could not rest in peace when she listened to the crying babes 
and weeping parents. She said she could take no comfort : so 
terrible to her feeling heart was the scene of death ! " Bachel 
weeping for her children, and would not he comforted, because they 
are not" (Matt. ii. 18). 

Not unlikely the Burial-place of Bethlehem was nigh Eachel's 
tomb. If so, a number of little graves would be seen clustered 
around it, with flowers from the hillsides scattered on them 
by the hands of sorrowing mothers. The murdered Infants 
there slept that sleep which cruel Herod could never again 
disturb. 

But we must not dwell more on so terrible a picture. Bather 
think of these Lambs of the flock, before sin had stained the 
white purity of their fleeces, being folded by the Good Shepherd 
beside the living fountains of waters : rather think of another 
Babe who came into the world, and grew up to manhood, just 
that He might say to these and all other weeping mothers, " Hush 
your wailings : dry your tears: ' for of such is the Kingdom of 
Heaven.' " Eather think of shining Angels bearing these little 
children aloft on their wings to that happy place of which it is 
said, " There shall be no more crying " (Eev. xxi. 4). 



46 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

"Around the Throne of God in heaven 
Ten thousand children stand, 
Whose sins are all through Christ forgiven, 
A holy, happy hand, 

Singing glory, glory, glory ! " 

You will however, be desirous of hearing now about Mary and 
the Infant Jesus. You remember aged Simeon spoke to her of " a 
sword" which was to "pierce through her own soul." Did he mean 
the sword of one of those fierce soldiers of Herod ? Was she, 
too, made to tremble for the life and safety of her dear child ? 

No. He who has all events in His hand, kept this ' Lion 
Herod ' in a chain. He would not suffer him to destroy ' the 
Lamb of God.' 

I shall tell you next, how the precious Young life was pre- 
served and rescued from danger. 



VL 

f^e goes Doinn into ^gpt. 

Another of these bright Angels, or perhaps the same who had 
already come to Mary, spoke to Joseph one night when he was 
asleep and dreaming. He seemed to say to him, ' Eise up 
from your couch. Do not wait another day. Take Mary and 
the young child ; for Herod is seeking the Infant's life ; and 
never stop till you come to the land of Egypt. There you will 
be away from the wiles of the jealous King. Eemain there till 
I bring you word from God that it is safe to return.' 

There was not a moment to be lost, Mary folded her mantle 
round her Infant so that He might not be seen. Joseph saddled 
his ass, and seating Mary and Jesus on it, he walked by 
their side. 



EARLY DAWN. 47 



They would probably pass through or near Hebron. Would 
Mary have time to " salute " her cousin Elizabeth ? or would the 
Angel's message rather hasten them on ? 

Ere long they are pursuing their solitary way through the 
desert. They were already far on their journey when Herod's 
soldiers were marching from Jerusalem. 

Egypt, you know, is a country far south of Palestine. It was 
then, and had been for some thousand years, a very great king- 
dom, with its rich fields and cities, and its vast Pyramids which 
are still among the wonders of the world. Often when the Jews 
were in want of food, or in danger from their enemies, they were 
in the habit of fleeing to this land ; so that Joseph and Mary 
were not now doing anything strange in going there. 

I daresay it would be at night when they commenced their 
pilgrimage, before any of the other villagers were awake. The 
moon and the stars might be shining when they went out by 
the gate of the city. Doubtless for many hours after starting, the 
parents of Jesus would be anxiously turning round at every 
height they reached, to see if Herod's horsemen were in pursuit. 

Some old writers have absurd stories of their own devising 
about this journey of the Holy Family. They speak of birds 
following and brushing away with their long feathers the 
mark of footsteps on the sands, so that Herod's soldiers could not 
trace the fugitives. They speak of the wild beasts becoming tame 
before them, and beautiful flowers springing up at their feet, and 
the trees by the way bending down that they might pluck their 
fruits. These things are not true. But, in a far better sense, we 
may feel assured that the Great God would keep His beloved Son 
from lions, and wolves, and leopards, and every evil thing, and 
feed Him, as He had done Israel before in the wilderness, when 
He gave them manna from heaven. 

I saw not long ago in North Italy, in perhaps the richest 
church in the world, this impressive picture. It was Joseph lead- 
ing the ass on which Mary and the Child were seated. Lovely 
guardian angels with golden wings are represented flying behind, 
some near and some more distant. A still more beautiful idea 



4,8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

of another painter is that of little cherubs gathering round the 
spot which Joseph and Mary have selected for their night's 
rest. These cherubs are gazing with wonder and adoration on 
the Heavenly Infant as He lies on His mother's lap. Doubtless 
the words of the sweet Psalmist of Israel, which I have already 
applied to the lowly Virgin, were equally true regarding her Holy 
Child, — " He shall give His angels charge over Thee, to keep Thee 
in all Thy ways " (Ps. xci. i i ). 

It was a very long journey. It would take three days at least 
to reach the borders of the land. They must have paused in 
the heat of the day, and rested under some of the juniper shrubs, 
or where a well of water could be found ; and at night, after the 
sun had gone down in clouds of silver and gold, they would sleep 
under the bright stars till morning awoke them, and the desert 
dew glittered like diamonds. Perhaps Joseph and Mary, as they 
bent over the Divine Babe, may have sung that beautiful Psalm 
they both knew well, — 



« The Lord is thy 
The Lord is th>/ shade upon thy right hand. 
The sun shall not smite thee by day, 
Nor the jnoon by night. 
The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil : 
He shall preserve thy soul. 

The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in 
From this time forth, and even for evermore," 

How strange it must have been to these peasants of Galilee 
to be in the old country of the Pharaohs, although no king of the 
name of Pharaoh was ruling then ! They would doubtless often 
think of how their Fathers dwelt here in the house of bondage. 
They would gaze with wonder on the Pyramids these Fathers 
had built, and on the mighty river Nile, compared to which their 
own Jordan was only a mountain riU. They would remember 
the story of Joseph, who, in that land of corn and plenty, became 
a famous Prince. They would perhaps think of the true Joseph 
whom they were now carrying in their arms, who was come, in 



EARLY DAWN. 49 



a far higher sense than in the case of the Hebrew ruler, " to for- 
give His brethren," and to deliver the whole world from a much 
sadder slavery. 

It is not likely that Joseph and Mary, simple dwellers in a 
village in the middle of Palestine, had ever been out of their 
native land. If so, this would be the first glimpse they got of a 
heathen country. They were brought up, like alL Jews, with a 
hatred to idolatry. How they must have been shocked as they 
gazed on the monster idols which met their eyes wherever they 
turned ; — pillared temples of enormous size, within which animals 
were worshipped, from the buU and cow, the dog and crocodile, to 
flies and mice : " And changed the, glory of the uncorruptille God 
into an image made like to corruptible man, and to hirds, and four- 
footed beasts, and creeping things" (Eom. i. 23). 

Some years ago, when in Egypt, I sat on the spot, a few miles 
from Cairo, where it is said Joseph and Mary and the Child 
Jesus once were. 'So one can say whether this be the case or 
no ; but I could not help gazing with great interest on the 
gnarled hoUow trunk of that great sycamore, " the Virgin's tree," 
which marks the place, and whose branches are still beheved 
by the ignorant native Christians to have miraculously bent down 
in order to form a leafy tent of shelter for the Holy Exiles. There 
is a well also close by, " Sitti Mariam " (of my Lady Mary), 
whose waters, the same simple souls allege, were drank by the 
Virgin. The thought, I repeat, was a solemn and haUowed one, — 
' Jesus the Son of God may possibly have sat here on His Mother's 
knee, or nestled in her bosom ! ' I may add, the place referred to 
is adjoining those old ruins (I spoke of in the opening chapter), 
of a city once called On or Heliopolis, " the City of the Sun," the 
ancient college or university of Egypt, and where there was a 
famous Temple dedicated to the' Sun, who was worshipped under 
the name of Osiris. More than likely it was at On where the old 
historian of Egypt, Herodotus, tells us he saw a vast image of a 
sacred cow. It had a purple mantle over its body ; its neck and 
head were wreathed with plates of gold; and aromatic incense 
was burnt before it night and day. He specially notes that it had 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



"a round golden sun between its horns." It is at all events in 
teres ting to think that He who was Brighter than the Sun, in 
His infant days may have lighted this Sun-city with " the bright- 
ness of His rising." 

Joseph and Mary and the little Child did not require to 
remain long in Egypt. Cruel Herod died in a few weeks. You 
will not wonder to hear that a King who lived such a dreadful 
life of guilt and sin suffered a dreadful end of misery and pain. 
All his riches could procure him no relief. He was seized with a 
burning thirst. His body- was covered with sores, and, like another 
of the same name, he was eaten of worms. The Bible speaks of " a 
worm that dieth not." That worm must have preyed on the wicked 
man's conscience. Doubtless the murder of those dear little 
children were among the thorns of his death pillow. God has said, 
" Be sure your sin will find you out." What mattered the golden 
coffin in which his body was laid, and the crown which still decked 
the departed man's brow ? What mattered the gorgeous procession, 
which took seven days to reach his mountain burial-place ? What 
though the towns and villages turned out by tens of thousands 
to see the glittering ranks of soldiers, and guards, and household 
slaves, wending along hill and dale, in the midst of which the purple 
bier was borne ? What mattered the five hundred caskets of spices 
and perfume wliich five hundred incense-bearers scattered on his 
tomb ? His name and memory came to be so hated, that the day of 
his death was kept among the Jews as a day of feasting and rejoicing. 
Yes, and we may feel assured that when called before the judg- 
ment-seat of the King of Kings, he will learn the truth of words 
spoken by a God who cannot lie : " Know thou that for all these 
things God will bring thee into judgment " (Eccles. xi. 9). 

Had Joseph and Mary to wait for a long time before they 
heard of Herod's death ? There were no posts or telegraphs in 
those days, as with us ; and unless when special couriers were sent 
on swift horses or dromedaries, news travelled very slowly. The 
holy pair had doubtless that great love of home which was 
common to all Jews, and they would desire very much, so soon 
as it was safe, to retrace their steps. Swift as any telegraph 



EARL V DA WN. 5 i 



message, word was brouglit to them. Again the Angel came as 
he promised, and told Joseph he might now return without 
danger. So he, Mary, and the Child left the land of Egypt with- 
out delay, and the saying of Hosea quoted in St. Matthew's 
Gospel was fulfilled, " Out of Egypt have, I called My Son." 

Where, you ask, did they go ? and what road did they take ? 

I cannot exactly tell you ; but most likely they would travel 
by the ordinary camel-track along the coast, past the Philistine 
city of G-aza, with the bright blue waters 'jf the Great Sea every 
now and then in view. How glad they would be when, after long 
miles of desert, they came in sight of the welcome hill-tops of 
Judah, with little towns crowning them, — the well-known circlets 
of terraced vineyards on their slopes, and flocks of sheep browsing 
in the hollows ! 

They went back, not to Bethlehem, but to their own dwelling 
in Nazareth. Joseph himself, perhaps, would have preferred going 
to -Bethlehem. He must have loved Bethlehem as the birthplace 
of the Holy Child. He must have loved it when he thought of 
the Shepherds, and the song of the Angels, and the visit of the 
Wise Men. He must have loved it because it was so near Jeru- 
salem and its Temple, with the Simeons and Annas and other 
good people there. He may have thought, too, " If Jesus is to be 
King of the Jews, it will be better for Him to dwell near the 
Holy City, rather than far away in the Highlands of Palestine." 

But God's thoughts and wishes were better than his. Another 
very wicked King had come in Herod's place, and sat on Herod's 
throne. He had already murdered, not hundreds, but thousands 
of poor Jews. So, once more, Joseph was divinely warned in a 
dream, on the way from Egjrpt, not to go near Jerusalem, but to 
his old quiet home among the hills of Galilee. 

Accordingly they contimied their journey along the coast, 
through the beautiful Plain of Sharon, leaving the Damascus road 
as they turned round the base of Mount Carmel in the direction 
of Nazareth. 

Do you not think it was better for other reasons that Jesus 
should not return to Bethlehem ? It would have been sad to 



52 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

His kind heart to remember that all the other babes of His own 
age had been killed, and that He alone remained. We never once 
again hear of Him, during His life on earth, being in Bethlehem. 
Those who are young — yes, and grown-up people too — like to visit 
the places where they were born ; but we never read, even when 
He was a man, that He ever entered its gates. 



MORNING. 



HE SHALL BE AS THE LIGHT OF THE MORNING WHEN THE SUN RISETH, 

EVEN A MORNING WITHOUT CLOUDS." — 2 SaM. XXIIL 4. 

UNTO YOU THAT FEAR MY NAME SHALL THE SUN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS 
ARISE WITH HEALING IN HIS WINGS." — MaL. IV. 2. 

' AND THE CHILD GREW AND WAXED STRONG IN SPIRIT, FILLED WITH 
WISDOM, AND THE GRACE OF GOD WAS UPON HIM." — LUKE II. 4O. 



MORNING. 



55 



VII. 

fie goegi to i^a^aretij antr Itbes tfjcre. 

We have hitherto watched the early dawn of the Great Sun of 
Eighteousness. We pass now to the bright cloudless morning- of 
that Divine and glorious life. 

I can picture a beautiful day in spring, when two people, one 
of them carrying a little Child, were seen entering the Valley of 
ISTazareth. We seem to know that vaUey well now, with its white 
limestone rocks and green hills and carpet of flowers. 

Joseph and Mary were familiar with every turn in the road 
and with every face they met. But it is the first time the Holy 
Child had seen the place that was to be for so many long years 
His earthly home — the green nest where the heavenly Dove of 
Peace was to fold His spotless wings. 

I see them passing through the lanes of the little hamlet, and 
unlocking the door of their humble home. Home has always a 
happy look, especially after having been some time away, or if 
troubles and anxieties have taken place during absence from it. 
They would therefore be very glad; I am sure, to rest after all the 
never-to-be-forgotten events of the past weeks, and specially after 
their more recent long journey from the land of Egypt. 

I have no doubt you would lil^e to know a great deal about 
this beautiful period in the life of Jesus. You would like to 
know how He lived, what He saw, and what He did, and what He 
learnt. But I can tell you almost nothing regarding all this. 
The Bible says much about Him when He was grown up, but 
very Mttle indeed about his early life, either as an Infant, or when 
advanced from Childhood to Youth. 

I can only think of Him as spending that childhood in the 
peaceful valley which was His home for nearly thirty years. And 
as I venture for a little to speak of that interesting period, let us 



56 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

devoutly fix our minds at the outset, on the amazing condescen- 
sion of Him who was none other than " GOD manifest in the 
flesh" stooping to such lowliness, going through all the stages 
and experiences of human nature, and that, too, in its humblest 
station ! Let us remember that while He was " very God of very 
God," He was also " very Man." He had the feelings and hopes, 
the joys and sorrows, of any other child. It was customary 
among the Jews to take their infant children to the Synagogue of 
the place, on the first return of their birthdays (what we would 
call the first " anniversary of their birth), and there receive a 
special blessing from the Eabbi. May we think of Mary and 
Joseph in this respect also " doing according to the custom of 
the law," and bringing the Holy Child to receive the wonted 
benediction ? The writer who mentions this circumstance recalls 
how, thirty-two years later, that same Holy Child, when He came 
to be reverenced and esteemed by mothers in Israel as a Holy 
Eabbi, had young children brought to Him that He should touch 
them : And " He laid Sis hands upon them and blessed them." ^ 

When He was very young, I can, with reverence, think of Him 
sitting on His mother's lap. or playing at her feet, or learning to 
speak. I can think of Him, when a little older, going by her 
side to the village well, or assisting her to glean in the harvest 
field or to carry water to the thirsty reapers. I can think 
of Him, yet older still, helping with His own hands His father at 
His daily toil. Joseph, you already know, was the carpenter of 
the place : his house would be known by the trunks of unsawn 
trees piled around the door or in the little square courtyard 
common in Jewish dweUiags. He would have his bench, perhaps, 
outside, with hammer and plane and saw lying upon it. All day 
long He would be busy making instruments of husbandry for the 
farmers, or wooden vessels and kneading-troughs for houses, 
or poles for pilgrim tents, or perhaps boats and oars for the not 
far distant Lake of Galilee. There is a strange tradition that He 
was a clumsy workman. This may only mean that, like other 

^ See Dr. Plumptre's interesting article " Synagogne," in Bible Dictionary. 



MORNING. 57 



native Jews, he gave himself to the commoner kinds of carpentry, 
such as I have indicated. The Greeks, who resided in the Greek 
and Eoman cities, such as Sephoris and Tiberias, were what are 
called skilled artificers, " cunning workers " in gold and brass, 
marble and cedar-carving. 

Every youth among the Jews was taught some trade that might 
be useful to him in after Kfe. This was the case even with their 
greatest men, such as the celebrated teachers Hillel and Sham- 
mai ; the one was a woodcutter and the other a carpenter. In 
the hnis and pasture-grounds of the province of Cilicia in Asia 
Minor there were vast flocks of goats with long rugged fleeces. 
These fleeces were used for clothing. They were also weaved 
into strong canvas for the tents of that pastoral people. St. 
Paul, you may remember, learnt, when he was a boy at Tarsus, 
the trade of a maker of these goats-hair tents. It would be the 
same with Jesus. In this, as in other respects. He was " made 
like unto His brethren ; " — He was brought up to His father's 
trade of carpentry. 

But I think we can entertain some other and difierent thoughts 
about the early years of the Holy Child and Divine Youth of 
Nazareth. May we not think of Him as climbing the limestone 
heights around, among the thick groves of prickly thorn ? (that same 
kind of thorn which His murderers at last twisted into a crown 
for His brow). Perhaps, while the other youths of the town, 
and among them His own cousins (children of Alpheus), were 
busy with riotous sports and play, they may have wondered how 
their young Companion preferred often being thus alone. He 
seemed to have some high thoughts they could not understand, 
and desired at times at least, like the brightest of the stars we see 
in the nightly heavens, to '■ dwell apart." Yet, too, they must have 
greatly loved Him. They had never seen Him angry or selfish 
or jealous. When they were tempted to do wrong, they saw that 
He never followed their bad example. When they quarrelled 
with each other. He never did. They had, perhaps, heard Him 
speak about some Great Pathee in Heaven whom He called " My 



Fathee." Perhaps in that clear still air they would often hear 
His young voice, far up the green hills, singing some sweet song 
of praise ; or, if they had followed Him, it may be at early morn, 
they might have seen Him at times bending His knees amid the 
wild flowers, and as He looked above toward the blue of the 
bright sky, they might have listened to Him sending up a prayer 
to this Greater and better than Earthly Parent. 

" He took Him, where the Eastern heaven 
Glows with the sun serene, 
Wliere the strong wings to morning given 
Brood o'er a world serene. 

** And there He breathes His matin thought 
Of pure unconscious love. 
There tastes the dew of Angels, brought 
In silence from above." 

All that is told about Him in the sacred narrative is in two 
short verses. " The Child greio and waxed strong in spirit " 
(Luke i. 80) ; also that "He increased in wisdom and stature, and 
in favour with God and man" (Luke ii. 52). 

I cannot help thinking, young readers, that when Jesus was 
like you, He would specially love the carpet of rich colour which 
that Heavenly Father He served had spread all along these 
heights of the Valley of Nazareth : — so bright, as I have already 
described, with the blue iris, the sea-pink, the scarlet anemone, 
and the many-coloured tulip. He who said so sweetly after- 
wards, " Consider the lilies how they grow," must surely have often 
in His early days gazed with joy on these clusters of wild 
flowers which clothed the hillside, from the tall wild hollyhock 
to the modest daisy, as well as on the hedges of prickly pear with 
their great bunches of red blossom, which enclose now, as they 
would do then, the village gardens. He who spoke in future years 
of " the birds of the air," and the sparrows that are " not forgotten 
by God," would love to listen to the cooing of the doves in the 
summer morning amid the groves of fig, and olive, and palm ; 
or to the murmur of the bee as, after sipping all day long the 



MORNING. 59 



fragrant thyme, it winged its way to its rocky home when the 
sun was sinking to rest, and flooding all the valley with golden 
light ; or to watch the flock of nimble gazelles bounding through 
the glades. In all these varied sights and sounds, all these varied 
pages of the book of nature, He would read in glowing letters 
the name of that same Father-God. He did not require, like 
Job, a mighty wind to help Him to see Jehovah, or, like Moses, 
a burning bush or the thunders and lightnings of Sinai. He 
beheld this Divine Father of heaven wherever He turned — in the 
street, at the fountain, on the hillside, in the workshop. Jacob 
could only call one place, but He could call every place Peniel, 
for " He saw God face to face." 

I shall come afterwards to speak about all we know or can 
imagine regarding the outward face and form of Jesus. Mean- 
time let us think of Him and picture Him with a heart pure and 
lovely. There was not so much as one spot or stain on it. He 
never gave His mother an unkind look. He never spoke to her 
an unkind word. He never cost her one moment of sorrow ; He was 
always a bright sunbeam on her path. Other children, when 
they kneel down on their knees at night to their evening prayers, 
have many faults and sins to confess, and for which they have 
to ask forgiveness. Think of this One little Child of IsTazareth, 
who, when He bent His knees in prayer to His Heavenly 
Father, had not so much as a single sin to own or a single fault 
to mourn. His words never were, " my Father ! blot this tres- 
pass I have committed to-day out of Thy book." No. His 
prayer was rather this — " my Father ! teach me to have more 
and more delight every day in doing Thy holy will, and in 
loving Thee perfectly. Prepare me for my great work in 
saving a lost world." He might well be named " Thy Holt 
Child Jesus." 

There are many questions about His childhood and early youth 
you might be tempted to ask, but which we should not be too 
curious to know ; as the Holy G-host, who taught and guided the 
writers of the Bible, has thrown no light upon them. 



6o BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

For instance, I think you may perhaps wonder whether Jesus 
in His boyhood years was ever at any school. 

This, I repeat, I cannot tell; and for the reason I have just 
given, because the Bible tells us nothing about it. We know 
that at the time at which Jesus lived, the Jews were very par- 
ticular about the education of the young. In all the principal 
towns and villages there were schools. Every village, indeed, 
that could number as many as twenty-five boys was obliged by 
the law to provide a schoolmaster, who generally acted also as 
chazzan or minister of the Synagogue. In Jerusalem alone there 
were no less than 394 schools. We may well beheve that 
Nazareth was not behind other places in this respect. Some 
have thought it doubtful if the Divine Youth received any public 
instruction in His native town. They draw this inference from what 
the Jews said when they afterwards found Jesus teaching in the 
Temple and ministering to the people, " How hnoweththis man letters, 
having never learned .? " That is, ' who has never been taught by 
any master or Eabbi.' But whether he went with other children 
in Nazareth of his age to be educated or not, I believe the 
earthly school where He learnt most was at His father and mother's 
knee. They would teach Him, as was the case with most pious 
parents among the Jews, to repeat brief prayers ; above all, they 
would instruct Him out of God's Holy Word, and He must have 
acquired by heart many portions of it, for in His after life He often 
quoted them. Just as it is with you, there would also, doubtless, 
be some parts that would be with Him special favourites. His 
young heart would beat, as has been the case with millions of 
youth in all ages, as He listened to the beautiful tale of Joseph, 
or to the story of piety and manliness of youthful David ; or He 
would listen with deep interest to the description of Naaman the 
Syrian and the little Jewish maid, which we find Him afterwards 
quoting; or to the account of the holy childhood of Samuel, 
or to the great deeds of the great Elijah, or to the lovely songs 
and hymns of Isaiah. 

A writer, well acquainted with Jewish customs, mentions the 
interesting fact that it was the practice to impress on a child's 



earliest memory some one particular verse of Sacred Scripture, 
what "we would call " a birthday text." It was intended as a 
motto and watchword for it all its life, and was repeated in its 
daily prayers. The verse was selected in a singular way — from 
the Hebrew letter which either began or ended the young one's 
name. That verse was carried about as a sacred charm to the 
end of life. We reverently wonder what the holy saying was 
which formed the protecting promise and part of the daily prayer 
of the Divine Child of Nazareth ; — taken from the first or last 
letter of the Hebrew name for Jesus or Joshua (;;iyin"'). I doubt 
not it would prove to Him a source of solace, and joy, and strength 
in many ah hour of deep sorrow, strong temptation, and fierce 
suffering. Further, among all the God-fearing families of Israel 
there was one special silent instructor which met the eye of 
young and old on every gate and doorway. Not only on the 
outside door, but occasionally at the opening of other chambers. 
It was called Mesusah. It was a piece or roll of framed parchment, 
containing the well-known words from Deuteronomy vi., beginning 
with " Hear, Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord," &c. They 
were more to the Jew than the Creed and the Lord's Prayer are 
to the Christian, for they were considered the symbol and emblem 
of Jehovah's presence and protection. The house, without this 
framed writing, would have been deemed like the Hebrew dwell- 
ing in Egypt which was neglected to be sprinkled with the blood 
of the Paschal Lamb. Moreover, it is an interesting statement 
made in the Talmud, that children had small parchment rolls of 
their own, containing, along with other extracts, this same portion 
of their Holy Scriptures.^ We can think, therefore, of the eye of 
the youthful Jesus very familiar with words which He did not 
require to learn, for they formed the truthful description of His 
whole life — "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, 
and with all thy soul, and with all thy might." Joseph and Mary 
would not be among those likely to disobey the injunction — " And 

1 See these, and otiier interesting particulars, in Dr. Edersheim's " Jewish 
Social Life." 



62 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

ye shall teach them diligently to your children, speaking of them when 
thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and 
when thou liest down, and when thou riseth up. And thou shalt 
write them upon the door-posts of thine house, and upon thy gates " 
(Deut. xi. 19, 20). 

He would be gradually instructed, too, just as other children 
are, for He had no infant perfection. He was not in mere sem- 
hlance a child, while in reality He had the mind of a full-grown 
man. No. He did not attain His knowledge of things miracu- 
lously. Truth would slowly dawn upon Him just as on any 
other infant or youth. This would be the case even in regard to 
ordinary outer objects. It would not, for example, be all at once, 
but by degrees that He would come to see the beauty of the 
flowers, or the glory of golden sunrise, or the tender crimson glow 
of sunset. He grew in observation and intellect and in feeling 
as He grew in stature. And just as earthly parents are the 
appointed instructors of their children, so with Him. Joseph and 
Mary would teach Him to lisp His first infant prayer, and to 
begin and end the day on His bended knees. If the youthful 
Timothy acquired the first lessons of a holy life as he played, a 
little boy, at the feet of " his grandmother Lois, and his mother 
Eunice," much more would Jesus drink in the first lessons of 
heavenly wisdom from the lips of the devout guardians of His 
early yeaxs. On the Sabbath, when the axe, and saw, and hammer 
of the other six days were laid aside, He would doubtless accom- 
pany His parents to the village Synagogue. In winter the Sab- 
bath lamp of olive-oil would be lighted, or in the summer evening 
Joseph and Mary, ascending by the outside stair, would go and 
sit with their loved Child in the booth erected on the top of their 
house. There they would sing together some of the Psalms of 
their Shepherd-King : perhaps the one about " the green pastures 
and the still waters," and " the YaUey of the Shadow of Death ; " 
or it may be the one which celebrated the glories of the coming 
King as having "grace poured into His Hps," and the royal sword 
girded on His thigh ; or, yet again, that other which speaks of 
His dominion being " from sea to sea, and from the river unto 




" He came to Nazareth, and was subject unto thein" (Luke ii. 51) . (opposite page 63) 



MORNING. 63 



the ends of the earth." What a befitting " even-song " for the " Son 
of David " would be these sweet strains of His royal ancestor ! 
They would remain out, it may be, till it was dark, and the sky 
became bright with stars sparkling like jewels in the crown of 
night. Mary would perhaps sing that beautiful Jewish hymn 
which spoke, though probably she did not know it, of the Youth 
who was then at her side — "When I consider Thy heavens, the 
work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou hast 
ordained ; what is man that Thou art miiidful of him, or the son 
of man that Thou visitest him?" (Ps. viii. 3, 4). Yes! it was 
He who had made all these bright worlds in the sky, and who 
was Himself Brightee than them all, who came down as the Babe 
of Bethlehem and the Boy of Nazareth, in order that He might 
save you and me ! 

Such, then, is a feeble picture of the early education and train- 
ing of the Holy Child and the Divine Youth. It is necessary, 
however, to add, that though there was growth in wisdom, just 
as in every other child or youth, there was a training peculiar to 
Him alone, far other, far higher, than human. He had the 
Holy Spirit "given to Him without measure." " The grace of 
God was with Him." 

I must close this interesting period in the history of Jesus 
by recalling once more, for I cannot do it so well again, that 
lovely thought so comforting to the very youngest, that this Great 
Being lived once Himself a child-life, that He could remember, 
and that He remembers now on the throne, His infant years and 
infant home ! He had a childhood and a boyhood, with its sun- 
shine and shadow. It is true He never had tears to shed for sin, 
but 1 believe He had His little troubles and trials, the same as 
all of us. Yes ; I can think of this Holy One with the tear of 
sorrow in His eye, rushing (just as childhood does among our- 
selves) to His mother, to bury His face in her bosom ; — to have 
His brow stroked by her gentle hand, and to have these tears 
kissed away as He sank asleep in the couch by her side. 

Young reader, while you bear always in your mind the remem- 
brance that He was in very truth not only the Son of God, 



64 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

but fhe Great God Himself, ' by whom all things consist ; ' I would 
like you to think also much of what I have been saying regarding 
the beauty and loveliness of His human nature. With devout 
reverence I would ask you to take this Village Boy of Nazareth 
as your example. If you could only read of Him as the Divine 
Man, who rebuked the winds and hushed the waves, and cast out 
devils, and raised the dead, you might perhaps feel and say, 
" This Saviour can be an example to grown-up people, but He 
cannot be an example to me. This Saviour can understand the 
heart of grown-up people, but He cannot know mine." 

Yes, He can. He does. I think one reason why He after- 
wards so gently and lovingly took up even little children in His 
arms, and laid His hands upon them and blessed them, and that 
they smiled fearless in His face, was just because He was once 
Himself even as they. He knew what it was to be loved and 
caressed by fond and pious parents. He knew all the tender 
thoughts that surround that happy word " Early Home " — the 
father's care and the mother's watchfuhiess. " He knoweth our 
frame," can be lisped by the tongue of infancy and youth as well 
as by the lips of age. Oh, I am sure there is not one amongst 
us all who would like to miss from our Bibles and our memories 
this story of the sunny Home of Nazaeeth ! 



VIII. 

K^e ts tafeen up to tf}e temple b3t)en '^z is ttaelbe ^mxn olti. 

There is one beautiful story regarding Jesus while He was at 
Nazareth which I cannot pass over in silence. 

AU the fathers and young men of Palestine were in the habit 
of going at least once a year to Jerusalem, to keep one of the 
great feasts. They had done so at the command of God for 
many hundred years. 



MORNING. 6s 



The wiDmen were not by the law required to accompany them, 
but Mary seems tj have so liked to attend, that she went regu- 
larly every year with her husband, leaving Jesus behind. It was 
not till a Jewish boy or youth reached the age of thnteen, that he 
was also allowed to join his parents in keeping the Passover. At 
that age he became what was called " Bar Mizvah," " a Child 
of the Law." 

But how is this ? Jesus is not thirteen, but only twelve ; and 
yet, a year earlier than others. He prepares to go up to the solemn 
assembly in Jerusalem. We can only take it as a beautiful 
evidence that He has so grown in " wisdom," and (in the truest 
and holiest sense of the word) "piety," that His parents could 
not resist his ardent wish to " appear before God." A Psalm 
dear to every Jew, may have been often heard on His lips : — those 
who were daily witnesses to the purity and loveliness of His life 
could not refuse to gratify its devout aspiration — " Rovj amiable 
are Thy Tahernacles, Lord of Hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even 
fainteth for the Courts of the Lord." 

You, doubtless, remember what this Feast of the Passover was, 
and when it was appointed ? 

It was instituted by God to call to mind that never-to-be- 
forgotten night when all the first-born in the land of Egypt died, 
and when only those houses of the Israelites which were sprinkled 
with the blood of the slain Lamb were " passed-over " by the 
destroying angel. Hence it was called " the Feast of the Passing 
over." 

The Feast itseK took place at the most delightful time of 
the year in the Holy Land. Spring is a lovely season at home ; 
but I think, from what I saw, it is still lovelier there. The 
orchards are filled with blossom ; the vine and the fig are clad in 
their early bright verdure. The olive leaf has its silver lining, 
and the grass, which at the close of the year is browned and 
blighted with the summer and autumn sun, looks green as an 
emerald. A great deal of raia has fallen, the dust on the roads is 
laid, and everything is refreshed. 

Where the highways needed it, they were repaired. If any 



66 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN, 

stones or branches of trees impeded the busy thoroughfares, they 
were removed or cut down. " Prepare ye the way of the people ; 
cast up, cast up the highway ; gather out the stones " (Isa. Ixii. i o). 

What a happy occasion these festival gatherings must have 
been ! I should think they would be the happiest hours of a young 
life, thus journeying through the valleys of Palestine to see .for 
the first time the City of the Great King. I daresay the youths 
in their distant homes would think much of all the sacred pleasure 
in store for them. Many months beforehand they would count 
the days till the joyful moment came, when what was called the 
' Caravan,' with its crowd of pilgrims, was ready. 

The ' Caravan ' is well known at the present day to all who 
have visited Palestine and Syria. People for safety travel, not 
singly, or in families, but in companies. I never can forget the 
sight of these caravans wending their way along the desolate 
tracks : mules with panniers carrying provisions or merchandise ; 
occasionally camels more heavily laden with tent poles and furni- 
ture. The men with rough wooden shoes, some with gu-dles 
round their waists, are walking — the women and children seated 
on horses or asses ; while the varied colours of their eastern 
dresses make all the brighter picture contrasted with the barren- 
ness around. There seems to have been an equal necessity for 
thus travelling in companies in the time of Jesus. Wayfarers 
were then exposed to what St. Paul afterwards speaks of as his 
experience elsewhere — " Perils of robbers, perils of the wilderness, 
and perils of false brethren." The wandering Arab tribes — the 
Sons of Ishmael — had, according to the prophecy, " their hand 
against every man." They were ready to pounce down upon 
and plunder every lonely unprotected traveller. Specially peril- 
ous was it to traverse the country alone at night. And, although 
that was not a frequent occurrence, the vast numbers who came 
to Jerusalem by way of the Jordan Valley were subject to the at- 
tacks of wild beasts as well as to those of the Bedawin of the desert. 
The wolf had his den on the adjoining mountains, and the lion his 
lair amid the tall reeds and rushes of the border river. But when 
a considerable number of pilgrims travelled together, they could, 



MORNING. 67 



by lighting fires romid their encampment, and keeping watch by 
turns, protect themselves against all plunderers. 

It would surely be a glad time then, to the youthful Passover 
Pilgrim of Nazareth, as the day drew nigh when the village 
caravan would start on its way to the City of Solemnities. 
Every place on the journey, too, would be so new to Him. In 
order to avoid the heat of the day, the festal co apanies often 
travelled by night. The full Passover moon shone upon them. 
There were some of the Psalms of the Great Singer or Singers of 
Israel, they loved then specially to use ; indeed, which were set 
apart to be employed in going up to the feasts. You have doubt- 
less noted many Psalms towards the close of the Psalter called 
" Songs of Degrees," or " Songs of the going up." These are 
supposed by many to have been sung by the Pilgrims at the 
different stages on the way. They made the roads and valleys 
through which they passed resound with these " songs in the night." 

We can follow in thought Joseph and Mary and Jesus along 
the steep road which leads out of Nazareth. It is at present 
one of the roughest mule paths in Palestine ; but I remember in 
passing along, how sure I felt that it must have been trodden 
again and again by the footsteps of Jesus, as it is the only pos- 
sible approach to the plain of Esdraelon, — the only possible 
outlet from the enclosed dale to the south, while the northern 
road is by a zig-zag path across one of the surrounding hills. 
After descending this rocky gorge, they would cross the great flat 
plain where Barak and Sisera fought. It would then, doubtless, 
be well cultivated, though now only covered with coarse grass 
and thistles. They would pass by the foot of the Hill of Samaria 
with its glittering houses, which the prophet speaks of as " a 
crown." If Nazareth were beautiful, more beautiful still was 
the Valley of Shechem through which they next continued their 
journey, with its song of birds and music of streams. They might 
" rest at noon " by Jacob's Well, and drink perhaps of the cool 
water ; then on, past Shiloh and Bethel, and other holy spots 
and holy names. As they paused every now and then to light 
their fires and cook their meals, the younger travellers would 



68 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

gather the fuel, or bring water from the sprmgs close by, aud 
then, rising up refreshed, all would begin again their anthems and 
hosannahs. 

It would be on the fourth or fifth day they obtained the first 
glimpse of " the mountains round about Jerusalem." Perhaps, as 
summit after summit disclosed themselves at early sunrise, just as 
the birds in the thickets around were waking up to melody, so 
would they sing their well-known * Song of degrees,' " / will lift 
mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help, my help cometh 
from the Lord who made heaven and earth." Then at last, when 
the longing wish of their hearts was fulfilled, and they saw 
straight before them the City of the Great King, old and young, 
with branches of palm and olive and myrtle in their hands, would 
be heard joining together in the most joyous psalm of the pilgrims, 
" Our feet shall stand within Thy gates, Jerusalem ! " 

Yes, there Jerusalem was, close by, with its vast walls and 
towers, its gates and Temple, and deep valley with the brook 
Kedron ; and more striking in its way, perhaps, than any of these, 
all the face of the green Mount of Olives, was, on that occasion, 
covered with tents and booths, — some made of cloth and canvas, 
others of twisted branches and leaves. The citizens of Jerusalem 
were proverbial for their hospitality on that occasion. Their 
houses were freely thrown open to strangers ; and if the interiors 
of the dwellings were full, mats were spread on the roofs to serve 
as beds and couches. Pilgrims indeed did not require to knock 
and solicit for quarters. An embroidered cloth suspended from 
the door formed the silent signal that there was still room and 
welcome within. But yet, despite of this, the ordinary houses 
were quite unable to contain the vast numbers who crowded 
up to the Feast. So, temporary leafy dwellings, such as I have 
spoken of, had to be erected for the accommodation of the rest of 
the Pilgrims. Perhaps Joseph and Mary and the young Jesus 
lived, during the week, in one of these humble huts made of 
branches of trees. They would go down, it may be, to the Pool 
of En-rogel or Siloam to fill their jars and skins with water, or 
they would buy bread and fruit from those who had stalls under 



MORNING. 69 



two large cedar trees, wliicli, "we are told, grew near the top of 
the hill. 

I think, my young readers, it is an impressive incident in the 
Divine life I am now describing to you ; Jesus among that 
company going up to that spring Feast ! His youthful feet trod 
these roads ; His youthful voice sang these songs ; His youthful 
heart would leap, just like that of the others, for joy, as He got the 
first sight of the Holy City, and saw, perhaps, the cloud of incense 
risitig up from the Temple into the blue sky. It was His Father's 
house- — the house His feet were so often in future years to cross, 
and whose doom He was yet so bitterly to bewail. His mother, 
surely, would be very happy as, hand in hand, they went up the 
steep path and entered together the Courts of Zion. You 
remember the last time they were there together. It was nearly 
twelve years before, when old Simeon held the Infant Saviour up 
in his arms and blessed Him. Jesus had not probably seen any 
other church or temple except the humble synagogue at Nazareth. 
How He must have gazed with a boy's wonder at all He beheld 
and all He heard ! The white garments of the priests ; the loud 
anthems of the singers, in which the sweet voices of the youthful 
Levites — even children — blended with the deep notes of their 
elders ; the clashing of the cymbals and the clear tones of the 
trumpets ; the gates of cedar and brass and gold and the pillars 
of pure white marble. 

Think of Him, going up perhaps alone at daybreak to watch 
the earliest beam as it broke over Mount Olivet and struck on 
the golden lamp above the porch — the signal for the commencing 
services of the day ! The trumpets pealing loud over city and 
valley and hill ; and immediately after, the silver cloud from the 
morning altar gleaming in the light of the rising sun ! 

I have sometimes thought, too, though we are not told, that at 
this same festival season, some other honoured youths may have 
gone up in that same company with Jesus, and that they may 
have met unconsciously among the crowds on Mount Olivet, or in 
the Temple ; — some young fishermen boys from a fishing village 
on the Lake of Tiberias. Perhaps, too, a dark-eyed Pilgrim from 



70 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Tarsus, who was one day to be struck down on his way to 
Damascus, by " a light above the brightness of the sun." That 
" Light " — their future Lord and Master — was, all unknown to 
them, in their midst. 

We are not told anything as to how Joseph, Mary, and Jesus 
kept the Feast. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon of the 
fourteenth day of the month Abib, that a long blast was heard of 
the silver trumpets in the courts of the Temple, intimating that 
the services had commenced. This was answered by a clash of 
cymbals, a blowing of horns, and a shout of Psalms all through 
the crowded lanes and streets. Not in the city alone, but in a 
wave of song it floated through the waiting multitudes, from the 
tents in the Kedron Valley up to the very summit of the Mount 
of Olives ; and the procession, or rather the thousands of family 
processions, began to move in the direction of Mount Moriah. 
How strange to think of Jesus going up to the Temple at the 
side of His reputed Father ! the latter carrying " a lamb without 
blemish " on his shoulders. How strange to think of Him gazing 
on that lamb as it was slaughtered ! It was the first time in His 
young life He had seen a sacrifice offered ; — the first time He had 
heard the bleating cries, and watched the struggles of the inno- 
cent victim. The blood of that slain lamb flowed direct from the 
wound which the knife had made into a golden vessel, and was 
handed to a row of Priests to be sprinkled at the base of the 
Altar of Burnt-offering. Was He allowed to behold in all this 
a significant t}^e and picture of His own future sufferings, when 
His own precious blood — that of " a Lamb without blemish and. 
without spot," was to be poured out for sinful man ; — " the blood 
of sprinkhng " which was yet to speak better things than that of 
all the two hundred thousand lambs that were often slain at 
every Passover in Jerusalem ? We cannot tell. 

In the evening, when the stars came out in the sky, the Feast 
began. Several families generally met together under one roof, 
or under the canvas of one tent. We shall come afterwards to 
read how Jesus celebrated this same Festival of the " Passing- 
over " before He suffered. We can only think of that ' Holy 



MORNING. 71 



Family/ now perhaps in company with a number of their friends 
from Nazareth (there were never fewer than ten at the Paschal 
Supper), reclining on benches around a table, on which was served 
the Lamb roasted whole. There were also placed on a side table 
thin cakes of unleavened bread, a platter filled with bitter 
herbs, a dish of thick sauce in which everything they partook 
of was to be dipped, and a goblet of red wine for " the four cups," 
the last of which was " the cup of blessing." The place of meet- 
ing was often decked with flowers and filled with their perfume. 
Who can tell but in the present case, some of these may have 
been gathered by holy hands on the hills of Nazareth, or from the 
wayside meadows on the road to Jerusalem ? There was a re- 
markable incident in the course of the celebration. One of the 
young ones, if not the very youngest, of the company, was selected 
to ask the question, " What mean ye hy this service ? " In answer to 
which the Father or presiding guest rehearsed, in brief, the nation's 
history, and specially the story of the Bondage in Eg3rpt, which 
the bitter herbs were designed to recall, and the sprinkling of the 
blood of the lamb on the night of deliverance. Is it not possible, 
is it not most likely, that Joseph himself would occupy the chief 
seat at the table, and that He who put that question was none 
other than the Holy Child Jesus ? We can think of the little 
company singing together what was called " the Hallel." This 
consisted of a few appointed Psalms which were deemed best 
suited for the sacred occasion, specially the beautiful one hundred 
and eighteenth, from which the following are a few verses, — 

" Oh, give thanks unto the Lord ; for He is good, 
Because His mercy endureth for ever : 
Let Israel now say, 
That His mercy endureth for ever. 

" The voice of rejoicing and salvation 
Is in the tabernacles of the righteous : 
The right hand of the Lord doeth valiantly. 

" This is the day which the Lord hath made, 
We will rejoice and be glad in it. 



72 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Save now, I beseech thee, Lord, 

Lord, I beseech Thee send now prosperity ; 

Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord ! " 

With the exception of Joseph and Mary, who treasured in 
their hearts the mighty secret, little did the others present think 
that the blessing tliey implored was actually resting on the head 
of a Young Pilgrim, who at that very hour was with them at the 
table ; who was eating the Paschal Lamb, and singing the Paschal 
Song, and putting to His lips the cup of sacred remembrance ! 
" Surely the Lord was in that place, and they knew it not." It 
was His blood that was to avert the Destroying Angel, and bring 
all His true people safe to the Heavenly Canaan. Do you re- 
member how St. Paul in after years speaks of Jesus being the 
true Paschal Sacrifice, whose blood is sprinkled on the lintels and 
door-posts of every heart, young and old ? " Christ our Passover 
is sacrificed for us" ( i Cor. v. /). 



IX. 

Wi% SdX\\tx anU Jlottrr seek Mxti sorrobjtns* 

But the happiest times and happiest meetings in this world 
must come to an end. The Feast of the Passover has closed. 
Joseph and Mary seem not only to have kept the special Feast 
day, but to have remained all the seven days which followed it, 
and which were called "the days of unleavened bread." The 
caravan Pilgrims make ready to go back again to Nazareth. 

There were very large bands of these Pilgrims at the close of 
the Feast, sometimes amounting to several hundreds at a time. 
Joseph and Mary had probably seen, or at least never doubted, 
that Jesus had joined the crowd. There is always great bustle 
and confusion in the East in starting on a journey. The taking 



MORNING. 73 



down the tents, collecting the baggage, piling and securing it on 
the backs of mules and asses, is not the simple matter which such 
a journey is with us. Joseph and Mary may at the moment 
have been so taken up with these necessary arrangements for the 
start homewards, that they may have omitted to make sure that 
Jesus was among them. They felt quite certain, however, that He 
would appear at their encampment at sundown. It is thought 
by some that the boys and youths kept together in a small com- 
pany by themselves, and that His parents would feel satisfied that 
their dear Son was all safe and happy among His young com- 
panions, or perhaps with His cousins. They paused for the night, 
probably, at Beeroth, known to travellers still, alike for its copious 
fountain and as being the first usual halting-place on the northern 
road. 

Their tents had been erected, the pitchers of water had been 
drawn from the adjoining spring, the faggots for the camp-fire 
had been gathered and lighted, all was in readiness for the last 
meal of the day previous to the night's repose, when Joseph and 
Mary discover that Jesus is still missing ! They go first " among 
their kinsfolk and acquaintance," — that is, to the tents in the 
large encampment occupied by their relatives and neighbours 
from Nazareth. Jesus may be so engrossed in the company of 
friends He loved, speaking and hearing about the Feast and its 
holy services, that He may have forgotten how the hours had 
passed, and that the sun had already set. But tent after tent is 
searched in vain. They looked all about for Him, and could not 
find Him. They would grieve and reproach themselves that they 
had allowed Him to go out of their sight. They felt sure that 
He was so loving and devoted and obedient, and so considerate of 
their wishes, that He would not Himself have given needless 
trouble and distress by wandering away from them. I wonder 
if Mary would think again about Simeon's ' sword ' ? 

She and Joseph could not help knowing that there were, as I 
have already told you, many robbers and lawless men at that time 
going about the country, who might have seized Him, and made 
Him a slave, just as Joseph was by the Ishmaelites long long be- 



74 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

fore. Cruel Herod we saw had tried to kill Jesus in Bethlehem. 
Perhaps the king who came after Herod, and who had already 
shown his tyrant nature, will now attempt to do the same. I 
have no doubt the sorrow-stricken Mother had very little sleep that 
night, thinking of her loved One, and dreading lest any evil had 
befallen Him. Any parent would be concerned about a lost and 
missing child. But Joseph and Mary had a far higher and deeper 
cause for their anxiety. They knew the secret of His birth, and 
the greatness of the trust that had been committed to them. So 
anxious were they both, that though they had to leave the fellow- 
ship of their friends, they resolve to go back alone next day aU 
the way to Jerusalem and try to discover Him. 

As they meet company after company, they would eagerly in- 
quire if the lost One was in their midst. A whole day they spent 
seeking Him, but they could not find Him. On the third day, 
tired and weary with the sleepless nights, the glaring sun, and 
the dusty roads, they go perhaps first to the part of the Mount of 
Olives where the people from Galilee were in the habit of pitching 
their tents. But He is not there. Then they go up the steps to 
the Temple. Can He be there ? 

Yes. In going into one of its haUs in the outer court, or court 
of the Gentiles, there He is. He is seated in the midst of some 
learned Teachers. 

These Teachers were in the habit of having what would be 
called among us ' Lecture-rooms ' — free or open schools — where 
they invited aU, old and young, to come and either listen to their 
instructions, or ask questions. Some have thought that among 
these Doctors of the law were two very famous EalDbis, who were 
the heads of the sacred school or coUege. Their names were 
Hillel and Shammai. Perhaps also Mcodemus, of whom we shall 
by-and-by hear ; and the learned scholar Gamaliel, at whose feet 
young Saul of Tarsus sat. 

They are all gazing on Jesus with wonder, listening to His 
words. They had never heard before such wisdom proceeding from 
the lips of youth : They were saying in amazement, one to another, 
" Who can this thoughtful young pupil be ? " How searching are 



MORNING. 75 



His questions ! How marvellously versed in Moses and the Pro- 
phets ! "Where can such bright intelligence be found in half heathen 
Galilee ? The word used in the original Greek is far stronger than 
that in our English version. It means " they were very greatly 
astonished." 

I think too, they would be all the more astonished when they 
saw that He was not, like many young persons, asking questions 
merely for admiration, and in order to be thought knowing and 
clever and wise. They saw that He was meek and lowly, docile 
and humble, and that all He said was from a simple desire to know 
the truth and to grow in wisdom. 

It was a natural thing for the parents of Jesus to seek Him in 
the Temple Schools. He was one of those whom the Psalmist 
beautifully describes, " whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and 
in Sis law doth He meditate day and night." During the eight 
days the Feast lasted, while others might be admiring the grandeur 
of the Temple and the splendour of its services. He may have 
preferred quietly resorting to these learned, and many of them 
devout, expounders of God's Holy Word and will. He could say 
as none other could — " Oh, how love I Thy law, it is my medi- 
tation all the day ! " 

His happy parents are so glad to see Him again. They are 
amazed to hear Him converse as He is doing with these great 
scholars. He is " hoth hearing ther,i, and ashing tJiem questions." 

I have before me a weU-known picture of "Jesus in the Temple." 
I like to look upon it ; it seems so true. There is a circle of 
Jewish teachers ; some old, some young. There is one old and 
blind, with a white flowing beard, probably intended to represent 
Hillel, who, if present, must have been considerably upwards of a 
hundred years of age. All seem to turn towards the gentle yet 
noble-looking Boy of Nazareth, in the centre of the group, with 
His dress of white, striped with blue, and His eye so full of mean- 
ing and beauty. The birds of the Temple are flitting to and fro, 
or perched on some of the rich carved work of the chambers. 
His anxious parents have just found Him. I dare say they would 
be amazed to see Him so calm in the midst of these great men ; — 



76 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

a Child speaking to grey-headed teachers. His mother seems in 
the act of saying to Him, " Son (Dear Child), why hast thou thus 
dealt ivith us ? behold thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing." 

The painter of this remarkable picture seems to have caught 
up with singular truth what is conveyed in the original — that 
Mary whispered the gentle rebuke, so that it might not be heard 
by others, into the ear of her divine Son, " Unto Him, His 
mother said." Also he has wonderfully depicted the intense 
anguish which she felt, and which is not at all fuEy expressed 
in our English Bibles. It is far more than ' sorrow.' It is keen 
mental torture. 

Jesus answered in words well worth remembering — words of 
divine import, that have the ring not of earth but of heaven in 
them. They come from deeper than the depths of His mere 
human soul. Many other gracious words proceeded out of His 
mouth, but these are the first we are told about in the Gospels : 
— "And he said unto them. How is it that ye sought me ? ivist ye 
not that I must he ahout my Father's business ? (Luke ii. 49). 

Perhaps you were expecting that this kind, devoted, obedient 
Son, the pattern to all young persons, would say with a tear in 
His eye as He listened to the reproof from His best earthly 
friend, " I grieve that I should have pained you so, or cost you 
one hour or one moment of anxiety or uneasiness. Such you 
may feel sure will never happen again." No. The language of 
this meek and lowly Boy is the reverse. It is the assertion of 
a lofty claim which He seems astonished they had failed to own. 
The glorious rays of the Sun of Righteousness, or rather of One 
" Brighter than the Sun," hitherto hidden amid morning clouds, 
suddenly burst forth. He had tenderly obeyed and loved a 
father and mother on earth, but now He tells them that though 
He loves them still as much as ever, and will strive to please 
them as much as ever, that His Father in Heaven He must honour 
above all others. Yes, even above them. He has come on earth 
to do that Heavenly Father's will and finish His work. The 
wondrous fact of His being ' God manifest in the flesh,' would seem 
from this time to have opened more fully upon Him. What a strange 



MORNING. 77 



feeling it must be to a prince, the eldest son of a sovereign, when 
he first begins to take in the thought that he is the heir of 
the throne and will one day wear a crown and be called king. 
Similar, but far more wondrous, must have been the feelings of 
Jesus now ! " Thy father and 1," Mary had just said to Him, 
" No," said He, " I have now dawning upon me a far grander 
truth, I have another, and far Greater Father, whose ' Will ' I 
have come on earth to do. I know that I am Son of the King 
of kings, the Prince of the kings of the earth. A glory is mine 
which belongs to no earthly king. My heavenly Father will yet 
glorify Me with His ownself, with the glory which I had with Him 
before the world was." The very Temple where He stood, with 
its glorious courts and songs of praise and ceaseless services 
(earth's truest picture of Heaven), must have woke up in His 
Divine Mind wondrous thoughts of a past that never had a 
beginning. Could it fail vividly to bring before Him " the 
Building of God, the House not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens ? " 

Jesus leaves the Temple-court at the call of His parents, and 
they take their journey to Galilee. 



NOONTIDE. 

"and the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness compre- 
hended IT NOT." — John t, 5. 

"1 WAIT FOR THE LORD, MY SOUL DOTH WAIT, AND IN HIS WORD DO I 
HOPE. MY SOUL WAITETH FOR THE LORD MORE THAN THEY THAT 
WATCH FOR THE MORNING ; I SAY, MORE THAN THEY THAT WATCH 
FOR THE MORNING."— .Ps. CXXX. 5, 6. 

" THE PATH OF THE JUST IS AS THE SHINING LIGHT, THAT SHINETH 
MORE AND MORE UNTO THE PERFECT DAY." — PROV. IV. 18. 

" AND HE WENT DOWN WITH THEM AND CAME TO NAZARETH, AND WAS 
SUBJECT UNTO THEM. . . . AND JESUS INCREASED IN WISDOM AND 
STATURE, AND IN FAVOUR WITH GOD AND MAN." — LUKE II. 51, 52 



me grobjs up to |Han|jootr at i^a^aretfr. 

The Sunrise and bright Morning of the Divine Life are now merging 
into Noontide — those still, peaceful hours which precede the burden 
and heat of the day. 

Did the meeting with the Doctors and great men oi the 
Temple make Jesus proud ? Did the dawning conviction that 
He was the Son of G-od and the Messiah of Israel make Him 
keep aloof from the ordinary work of the world or the ordinary 
duties of life ? Did it make Him love less His home and His 
calling and His relatives and friends at IsTazareth ? 

No, He was just as " meek and lowly in heart " as He was 
before. All that we are at this time told about Him is, that 
along with His parents, '^Ke went down, and came to Nazareth, and 
was subject unto them" (Luke ii. 5 i ). He seemed quite willing 
to exchange the splendour of the Temple Courts for the humble 
cottage of Galilee. 

Does it not only lead us the more to wonder at His con- 
descension ? What ! He who was now fully alive to the fact 
that He was not really the Son of Joseph ; He who was be- 
ginning to have the awful consciousness that He was the anointed 
Jesus, the Great God in human nature; might we- not have 
expected to hear Him speaking no longer with the voice of an 
obedient Son, but with the authority of a Master : not asking 
His parents what He should do ; telling them rather, with a com- 
manding tone, what they should do ; changing, in fact, places with 
them, and usurping authority over them ? But no such thing. 
Oh, what a beautiful example for youth, this Heavenly, heaven- 
born Child — obedient, dutiful, loving, submissive as ever — looking 
up still with fond filial reverence and devotion to those who stood 
to Him in the most sacred of earthly relations, " He was subject icnto 



82 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

them." Subject too, I may add, to Mary, not as she is sometimes 
falsely represented as " the Queen of Heaven " with the moon at 
her feet, and a cluster of stars round her brow, but Mary the 
lowly mother of a lowly earthly home ! 

I believe Joseph must have died soon after this. If so, it is 
probable that the first tears of bereavement which the Holy 
Saviour shed, would be over the grave of one who had proved so 
good and kind to Him. A great painter has touchingly repre- 
sented the former laying his head on the bosom of Jesus at the 
moment of his death. Some have maintained that " the brethren 
and sisters " who are spoken of (Matt. xiii. 55, 56) were Joseph's 
children by a former marriage, and that they may all have lived 
together in the same house. But, as I have already said, 
we have strong grounds for supposing, following the opinion of 
Jerome and many others since his time, that they were rather 
the first cousins of Christ : so that we may tliink of the Home at 
Nazareth in connection only with Him. We can certainly con- 
clude that He would contiaue still at His trade in order to sup- 
port His widowed mother. 

I like to dwell on this picture of Jesus before He began His 
great public work, being a comfort to her who had loved Him so 
long and so tenderly ; speaking dutiful words to her, and doing 
little acts of kindness for her. Yes, I like much to imagine 
Him thus, for whole eighteen years (more than half of all the 
time He spent on earth) living in this quiet dwelling among the 
green hills, while good and gentle to every one, devoted specially 
to His best earthly friend. As the Christian poet says — 

" A Son that never did amiss, 
That never shamed His mother's kiss, 
Nor crossed her fondest prayer." 

How honoured Xazareth was in being for so long the earthly 
home of the Lord of glory ! How honoured, too, the working-man 
in every town and every village on earth who earns his bread 
by the sweat of his brow, that the Saviour of the world — the 



NOONTIDE, 83 



great ' Son of the Highest ' — came and lived, not in halls of 
splendour, but toiled as a carpenter in a poor village ! Do you 
not remember what some of His townsmen said about Him after- 
wards, one Sabbath when He was teaching them ? In the 6th 
chapter of Mark and 3d verse, we read that they asked, with 
words and looks of scorn, " Is not this the Carpenter ? " (not " the 
Carpenter's Son" which was said of Him at another time, but 
THE Carpenter). 

Oh what a strange wonderful thought ! Jesus (and Jesus 
knowing, too, who He was, and what He had come on earth to 
do) for about twenty years led the simple life of a tradesman 
among the peasants of Syria, shaping planks and oars, and preparing 
timber for floor and roof and lattice, the drops of labour standing 
on His brow ! 

Justin Martyr, a writer of the first age of Christianity, specially 
mentions His " making ploughs and yokes for oxen." 

Does He not wish to teach all, young and old, that it is a good 
thing to work, and that it is a bad tiling to be idle. I was reading 
a book not long ago, on " The Dignity of Labour." Jesus, by His 
life of employment at Nazareth, wrote, surely in golden letters, the 
brightest and best page in that book. Never need any boy or gir] 
be ashamed of a humble and lowly occupation, when they know 
that Jesus, at one time, stooped to do rough common work. 

And I would like you farther to note that He continued in the 
trade He had been brought up to, and was contented and happy 
in it. There are many who would like to be in some other place 
and lot than God has given to them. Not so the Divine Son of 
Mary. He did not say to His mother, " I dislike all this hard 
labour and toil in this hot dusty street. Knowing my future high 
destiny, I should like to go back to the Temple and to live with 
the Doctors and Eabbis there, and join in the solemn worship. 
I would feel far more than I can ever do here, that I am in my 
Father's House, and about my Father's business. Or, if that be 
impossible, I should like better some other trade. I should like to 
be a shepherd, like David ; to go out with the flock and climb 
these beautiful hills all day long ; or under some spreading tree, or 



84 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

by some joyous brook, warble sacred strains on the shepherd's 
pipe. I should like thus to live in the Great Sanctuary of 
Nature, among the wild flowers, and feel the cooling breeze 
fanning my temples. Anything rather than this dull ungenial 
workshop." 

No, He felt that the Heavenly Father He loved had placed 
Him there, and in this, as in everything else. He sought to do His 
Father's will. 

Jesus was called afterwards, " The Man of Sorrows." But these 
must have been happy years to Him in Nazareth, loving His 
Father in heaven, and being gracious and considerate to all about 
Him. 

We are not told of the many kind things He doubtless said, and 
the many kind deeds He doubtless often performed. You may 
be sure there would be, in or around the town, beggars like blind 
Bartimeus, and rows of lepers stretching out their hands and 
crying for help. There would be boys and girls who had lost 
their fathers, or who could point to the grave of a dead brother 
or sister. There would be mothers weeping bitterly over their 
children. 

Is it likely that, with the love that glowed in His bosom. He 
would look on these broken hearts and not try to bind them up ? 
John in his Gospel says that there were so many kind and gracious 
things Jesus did, and so many kind and loving words Jesus spoke, 
that He supposed " all the world could not contain the books that 
would be written about them." I think many of these books, had 
they been written, would have been taken up with the sayings 
and the domgs of these holy years in Nazareth. I have seen 
often how one dear little child could make a home of much 
suffering and sadness, happy with its bright face, and joyous 
smile ; or as it printed its kisses on the cheek of pain. What a 
joyous, peaceful home, that must have been where the pure, 
bright, sinless Saviour was. Never a hard word, never a cold 
look, never an evil thought, never a movement of wayward 
self-will, or trace of sullen temper, or stormy passion : antici- 
pating His mother's wishes, wiping away her tears, and tell- 



NOONTIDE. 85 



ing her of " His Father, and her Father, of His God, and her 
God." Surely, as Jesus, tired with the day's toil, flung HimseK 
on His bed at night to sleep, the bright seraphs from Heaven must 
have liked to come unseen to that couch and home of love ! 
Nazareth would be like what Bethel and its dreamer was, long, 
long before, with the ladder on which glorious angels went up and 
down. His own after prayer, never perfectly fulfilled in the case 
of any other human being, had its answer in that holy life, " Tliy 
-mil he done on earth as it is done in heaven." 

You may imagine, too, how happy Mary must have been to have 
had such a Son ! How glad she would be to minister to Him ! 
Any time He needed to go a little way from home, to some of 
the neighbouring towns or hamlets, — to Cana or Nain, Endor or 
Capernaum, how pleased she would be, as she was seated in her 
porch at her distaff, to watch Him coming in the distance ! How 
glad to lift the latch of her door and welcome Him in ; to have the 
floor of her cottage swept ; the bath ready for His weary feet ; 
and, perhaps, the cluster of wild flowers from the great garden of 
nature He loved so well ! 

There was a feeling which must have been quite peculiar to her 
regarding her Divine Son. All other mothers have not only the 
sad fear present with them, that their children may be tempted 
in an evil hour to fall into sin ; but another mournful thought also 
at times hangs over them, that death may early take their loved 
ones away. Not only did Mary know that the pure and spotless 
Jesus could never fall into temptation and never grieve her by 
wrong-doing, but she knew that His holy life was shielded from 
early death, — that He could not be removed from her, until the 
great work was done for which His Father had sent Him into the 
world.. One dark cloud of a parent's heart was thus absent from 
her dwelling. 

In describing His Boyhood, I have previously pictured to you 
His going up all alone to the familiar hOls around His home. 
In His after life, as we shaU come to find, He often Hked to go to 
" sohtary places apart :" especially to the green mountains round the 
Lake of Tiberias where, away from everybody. He prayed to His 



86 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

great and kind Father. He must often have done the same now. 
When the day's work was over, He would love by these little 
water-courses to ascend the breezy hills around Nazareth and 
speak face to face with God. 

I have sometimes thought, also, that a number of striking images 
which Jesus used in His teaching in after life, may have been 
gathered during those quiet years in His Galilean home. 

Do you ask me what I mean ? 

Well, do you remember one story He tells about a Shepherd 
going away on the hills, after a wandering sheep, never resting 
till he had recovered it, and ' when he had found it,' he carried it 
upon his shoulders, and brought it back safe to the fold ? Jesus, 
whether now or in earlier boyhood, may have seen some such shep- 
herd, as the daylight was fading on the hills of Galilee. The fold was 
low down in the valley, and the flock of sheep were lying peace- 
fully on their green pastures. But that shepherd heard a lost 
sheep bleating far up among the rocks. He thought of the sharp 
flints that would cut its feet, and the night- winds that would 
howl around it, and the wild beasts that might devour it; so, 
with his crook in his hand, he was seen mounting from rock to 
rock, and from hill to hill, crossing a stream here and some rough 
stones there. He never heeded the darkness of night, nor the 
howl of the wolf, nor the sword of the robber. Perhaps early 
the next morning, from some thyme-covered height to which the 
Divine Youth had gone for meditation and prayer, that shepherd 
was seen coming down the opposite hill slope, and calling out 
to those who were watching him from below — " Rejoice with me, 
for I have found my sheep which was lost " (Luke xv. 3—6). 

Or do you remember another story, about a man who " built 
his house upon the sand ; " and about another man who " built 
his house on the rock ? " On an autumn evening when He was 
on the slope of one of these hills above the village, Jesus may 
have seen some one with spade and axe, plane and saw and ham- 
mer, erecting a cottage for himself. But the man, thus busy, had 
made choice of a wrong piece of ground. If he had been wise he 
would have cut down some vines that were trailing over a hard 



si 










h' 'il'^i 



NOONTIDE. 87 



bit of rock, and built bis bouse securely tbere ; but he bad never 
tbougbt of a storm coming on, or rain washing his work away ; 
so he foolishly built his house on the loose sand, and made the house 
itself of soft clay. All at once, the black clouds gathered over 
the hills — there was not a rift where blue could be seen in 
the sky. The thunder rolled ; heavy torrents of rain fell ; and, 
rushing along the hill slope in great wild streams, they carried the 
sand and moist earth away : the clay dwelliag came down, and was 
a mass of ruin. Whereas his neighbour, who had begun to build at 
the very same time, either raised his new cottage on a foundation 
of big stones, or he had dug deep till he came to the solid lime- 
stone. When the same storm broke in the sky, and the little 
rills, swollen into rivulets, came foaming down, they did no harm 
to the man's house "for it was founded upon a Bock" (Matt, 
vii. 24-27). 

Or to take another of these nature-pictures. For many days 
or weeks in autumn, there had only been a little red in the morn- 
ing sky just about sunrise ; the rest of the day or days it was 
wet and misty and gloomy. But one evening Jesus may have 
been on the top of the cliff above Nazareth, watching a beautiful 
sunset towards the distant shores of Tyre, over the Mediterranean 
Sea. The sky all at once broke, and became aglow ; the fleecy 
clouds were tinged with ruby ; the very fringe of yellow sand on 
the seaside seemed of a fiery colour, as it caught the tint of the 
heavens. The sun seemed as if he went asleep on a pillow of crim- 
son, with crimson curtains around him. Then, when that sun had 
gone down, and the glow had faded, out came clusters of bright 
stars in the clear blue sky ; and the next morning when Jesus 
awoke, not a dank mist or drizzling rain but a golden light 
was -streaming through the lattice, — this continuing day after 
day for many weeks together. Might it not be when He called 
to mind afterwards some such picture as this that He said 
*' When it is evening, ye say, it will he fair weather ; for the sky 
is red : and in the morning, it will he foul weather to-day ; for 
the sky is red and lowring " (Matt. xvi. 2,3). 

These and similar other scenes : the flash of the lisiitninsr 



88 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

— the roll of the thunder — ^the bursting of the green buds in spring 
— the woman losing her piece of money, and with Kghted candle 
sweeping the house till she found it — the games of the children in 
the open market-place, or by the village fountain, may possibly 
now have come at different times before the eyes of Jesus ; He 
stored them in His mind and made use of them afterwards in 
teaching the people. 

This, young reader, has been the description of a bright and 
happy Youth and Manhood. Yet I cannot close this chapter 
without telling you that, happy as that home was, Jesus had His 
trials to bear. His own kinsmen, these same brethren and 
cousins, seemed to be jealous of Him, and some of the people of 
the village were rough and rude to Him. He is spoken of in the 
Song of Solomon, as " a lily among thorns^ How true ! This 
beautiful snow-white Lily, from the Garden of Heaven, grew up 
in the earthly valley of Nazareth. But wicked people, like those 
hard and prickly thorns so often to be seen in Palestine, — harsh 
and cruel friends, hated Him for His goodness, and spoke unkindly 
to Him. He would perhaps have felt it His duty, when He saw 
them acting unjustly or dishonestly, or when He heard them 
uttering harsh, or impure, or malicious words, to raise His protest, 
• — bravely yet graciously to tell them of their faults ; — and just be- 
cause of the faithfulness of His reproofs they would treat Him 
with unfeeling severity. 

Yet I am quite sure of this, that He would not pay them back 
with the same. The thorn might pierce or the clouds might 
darken, but the Lily lost none of its whiteness or purity. I think 
I hear Him saying only one thing in return for all their harsh- 
ness. It was the same beautiful utterance which came from His 
lips long after, — " Father, forgive, therti, for they know not 'what 
they do." 

It would be unfair, however, not to add, that with others in 
Nazareth it was doubtless different. Goodness and gentleness 
and meekness in the eyes of those whose good opinion is worth 
having, are always attractive. Love begets love in generous 
natures. "Why does everybody love you?" was the question put 



to Philip Doddridge's daughter. The reply was, " Because I love 
everybody." It must have been so in a higher sense with Jesus, 
Among the best of His companions and fellow-villagers He could 
not fail to be a favourite. He "increased in favour," we read, 
not only with God, but with man. The word " increased " would 
seem to denote that even those who were disposed at first to be 
unkind to Him, had their envy and jealousy disarmed as they 
became more and more familiar with His gracious character, — as 
they marked His growing intelligence — His unselfish ways — His 
stainless purity in thought, word, and deed. They saw in His 
very countenance, in His eye, and in His smile, the index of the 
lofty loving soul within. So that we may believe that the cold- 
ness and reserve shown for a time by many towards Him, were 
gradually exchanged for esteem and admiration. 

This, at all events, we do know, that whatever was the case 
with man, " Re increased in favour with God " (Luke ii. 5 2). 
This may seem at first a strange thing to say. If Jesus were the 
quite Perfect, Holy, Loving One we have represented Him to be 
— without so much as a flaw or speck of sin or frailty in His 
nature — how could He be said to ' grow ' or ' increase ' in favour ? 
Is it possible for a thing or a Being that is perfect to increase in 
perfection ? 

I answer by giving you an illustration from the emblem of the 
lily, which we have just employed. Some of you may have seen, 
not the common Lily of the Valley, but one of those magnificent 
plants which the gardener regards as the pride of his hothouse, 
called the Lily of Japan, or the Lily of the Nile. When the 
pure . virgin white leaves are beginning to open, the natural ex- 
clamation is " How perfectly beautiful ! " There is no spot or 
blemish upon them to mar their early loveliness. But day by 
day, as the petals grow and expand, the singular beauty of the 
flower becomes more and more manifest. It is viewed with 
increasing interest. That beauty was in one sense ' perfect,' 
when the pure new-born white bud was resting in its earliest 
cradle of long green leaves. But what was the perfection of this 
bud, compared to that of the large massive cup to which it grew 



90 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

(more delicate than the finest porcelain) poised on its tall and 
graceful stem. Jesus was spoken of as " growing up before God 
as a tender plant." This " Plant of Eenown " was really and truly 
perfect at His birth as " the Holy Child Jesus." Bat as the 
lovely graces of His human nature became more manifest day by 
day, — the white leaves of gentleness and meekness, unselfishness 
and submission, — might not that true " Lily of the Valley " (Sol. 
Song ii. i) be said to "increase in favour with God"? God 
" saw the light that it was good " at early dawn ; but He regarded 
it with a deeper complacency as it shone " more and more unto 
the perfect day." The Dayspring of childhood deepened into 
youth — the tender Morning light of youth deepened into the full 
Noontide glory of manhood, till His holy soul, like His counten- 
ance, described in after years, was " as the sun shineth in his 
strength." 

Thus, then, had the Meek and Lowly Jesus lived for thirty 
years a life of seclusion and silence, without any signs, by mir- 
acle or otherwise, of the Divinity which was within Him, or of 
the greatness which was yet to be revealed. His human body 
was the sacred sanctuary in which Deity dwelt. The silence of 
these years reminds us of what is said of the Temple of Jerusalem, 
which was a type of Him — " There loas neither hammer nor axe, 
nor any tool of iron, heard in the house while it was in luilding " 
(i Kings vi. 7). 

" No workman's steel, no pond'rous axes rung, 
Like some tall palm the noiseless fabric sprung." 

And yet, all the greatness and glory and pomp of the world, 
were nothing in real interest to what these thirty years had 
witnessed in that quiet Village of Galilee. Eome had risen to 
the height of her splendour. She bore the proud eagle on her 
standards. That eagle may be said to have winged its flight 
to every region of the globe, and planted its iron claws on the 
prostrate nations. But what was that bird of Eoman conquest 
and victory compared to the Divine Dove of Peace that was 



NOONTIDE. 91 



nestling, unknown and unheeded, amid the rock-cliffs of Nazareth ? 
The eagle carried nothiag on its rushing wings but terror and 
death. The Dove from the Ark of Heaven was to carry the 
olive branch to the remotest bounds of the earth and to the latest 
ages of time. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 

" THEN SPAKE JESUS UNTO THEM, SAYING, * I AM THE LIGHT OF THE 
WORLD : HE THAT FOLLOWETH ME SHALL NOT "WALK IN DARK- 
NESS, BUT SHALL HAVE THE LIGHT OF LIFE.' " — ^JOHN VIII. 12. 

" IN THEM HATH HE SET A TABERNACLE FOR THE SUN ; WHICH IS AS 
A BRIDEGROOM COMING OUT OF HIS CHAMBER, AND REJOICETH AS 
A STRONG MAN TO RUN A RACE. HIS GOING FORTH IS FROM THE 
END OF THE HEAVEN, AND HIS CIRCUIT UNTO THE ENDS OF IT: 
AND THERE IS NOTHING HID I ROM THE HEAT THEREOF." — Ps. 
XIX. 4-6. 

" at mid-day, o king, i saw in the way a light from heaven, 
above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me," 
— Acts xxvi. 13. 

" when the fulness of the time was come, god sent forth his 
SON."— Gal. iv. 4, 

" AND JESUS HIMSELF BEGAN TO BE ABOUT THIRTY YEARS OF AGE."— 
LUKE IIL 23 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 95 

XL 

He goes to tfje Sortian antr tg Baptt^etr. 

Jesus leaves His home to begin His public ministry. 

To use the words of a great German writer (Schlegel), " we have 
traced tbe obscure rise of an almost imperceptible point of Ligiit 
from which the whole modern world was to spring." We have now 
to watch the Sun of Eighteousness coming forth " as a Bridegroom 
out of His chamber ; " ascending above the hills of Judah and Gali- 
lee, and gradually attaining His MEKiDiAiT glory and strength. 

He left Nazareth ; but not to forget it. It is surely a touch- 
ing thought that the Saviour rememhers Nazareth in Seaven ! He 
said to Paul when the persecutor was struck down by a light 
" above the brightness of the sun," " I am Jesus of Nazareth." 

This may not be an unsuitable place for a few remarks on a 
subject in which most, if not all, of my young readers will naturally 
feel interested : I mean the outward appearance of Christ, now 
that He had attained to manhood. 

I cannot, however, give you any reliable information. The 
sacred narrative, as we have seen, tells us that He had in- 
creased, not only " in Wisdom," but " in Stature." It teUs us no 
more. There are some baseless traditions about pictures and 
statues of Jesus made in the time of the Apostles. Among 
other legends is one that His portrait was painted by St. Luke, 
the writer of the third Gospel. The most famous of these alleged 
pictures dates to the fourth century. It is known as that of 
Edessa, and is specially mentioned by a devout Father of the 
Church, John of Damascus. Though a few of the early Christian 
writers entertain a different view, it may, perhaps, be lawful for 
us to take our ideal impression of the Divine Human countenance 
from this representation. It shows the Lord " in the bloom of 



96 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

youthful power and beauty, with high and open forehead, clear 
eyes, parted hair, and an auburn beard." He is otherwise 
described as being, like His Virgin mother, pale, with an expres- 
sion that betokened wisdom, majesty, and meekness, — His hazel- 
coloured hair flowing over His shoulders. We know well, there are 
many people truly loving and beloved, who have no beauty of 
countenance ; and we know, on the other hand, that there are those 
who have outer beauty of face who are without the far higher 
beauty of goodness and gentleness and kindness. But do not all 
these ideas, which seem to have been followed by the religious 
painters of the Middle Ages, accord with the slight touches which 
are given in the Holy Bible, as well as with what our sanctified 
thoughts picture Him to have been. " His head is as the most 
fine gold " (Sol. Song v. 1 1 ) ; " His countenance is as Lebanon, 
excellent as the cedars" (verse 15). No two things among the 
Hebrews formed such types of beauty, as the fine gold of Ophir 
and the cedar-trees of Mount Lebanon. He is spoken of farther 
as " The King in His heauty" " Fairer than the children of men" 
" Full of grace and truth" " The chief est among ten thousand . . . 
altogether lovely" Of Him who was " Brighter than the Sun," 
St. Jerome says, " The majesty of Godhead shone in His face." 

At the time we have now reached, Jesus was thirty years old. 
It was the age among the Jews when the young Scribes got the 
sanction of their Eabbis to go out and teach. These aged 
instructors were then wont to lay their hands on their successors 
and say, " I admit thee to the chair of the Scribe." Thirty years 
had passed since the angels had sung His birth-song, and the 
Wise men had been guided to His manger by the silver lamp in 
the starry heavens. His mother then was a Young maiden of 
Galilee : now she was the Matron of middle life. Her counten- 
ance would be marked with lines of deep anxiety and care. 

Perhaps the thought may occur, were any of the Shepherds of 
the Plains of Bethlehem still alive who had been guided to His 
manger-cradle ? If so, must they not have wondered at hearing 
nothincr more of the wondrous life of the Divine Babe ? Would 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 



97 



not the anthem of the Heavenly host thirty years ago, by this 
time appear to have been a mere vision which they had mistaken 
for a reality ? May we not, however, suppose that some among 
them would still cling to the firm belief that the hour of His 
" showing unto Israel " was only delayed, and that the Day- 
spring from on high would in God's own time surely visit them ? 
Perhaps, again and again, at night, when out with their flocks 
in the same fields, they may have listened for some new song- 
burst from the starry sky! Yes, you humble, trusting, faithful 
watchers on the hills of Judah ! hope on, and trust on ; for He 
whom you have so long served is about to fulfil His own promise — 
" The, Lord is good unto them that wait for Him." They would, 
perhaps, remember the words of one of their own prophets — " For 
the vision is yet for an appointed time, hut at the end it shall speak, 
and not lie : though it tarry, wait for it ; lecause it will surely come, 
it will not tarry " (Hab. ii. 3). "Unto you that fear my name shall 
THE Sun of Eighteousness arise." 

Zacharias and Elisabeth, Simeon and Anna, must now have 
been in their graves. To them had only been given the privilege 
of seeing the Early Dawn, not the glories of the Eisen Sun. 

An officer named Pontius Pilate was now Governor of Judea. 

That is always a sad day when any youth among ourselves 
bids farewell for the first time to his father and mother's home. 
His parents and brothers and sisters never forget the hour 
they follow him down the road till he is lost from their siglit, or 
as they receive a last wave of his hand when the vessel is leaving 
the pier, taking him away to a far country. 

With all reverence we say, it could not be different at present 
with Mary and Jesus. Her Divine Son indeed was no longer a 
Youth, but He had never till now finally quitted the roof under 
which He had been so long nurtured. Oh how could that loving 
mother help feeling, and feeling deeply, when He, who had been 
far kinder to her than all earthly relations or friends, was about to 
leave her ? He had put aside for ever the workshop and tools ; — 
cleared away the last planks of pine and cedar ; and with His 

G 



scrip and sandals and pilgrim staff, He prepares for what they 
both well knew was, so far as " a Home " is concerned, His fare- 
well to Nazareth. 

Many a day would she think of the empty seat at the table — 
the silent bench, the absent footstep, the withdrawn voice. But 
the Heavenly "Father's business" was more to Him and to her than 
any earthly parent's love. I think I hear mother and Son exchang- 
ing with one another the word which at such times was common 
among the Jews, but they would say it now with more than 
wonted tenderness — " Peace be loith thee ; " or, as on tlie old fields of 
Boaz, " The Lord he with Thee " — " The lord Ness Thee ! " I think 
I see Mary mounting the outside stair leading to the housetop, 
and there watching Jesus, proceeding first along the winding 
streets, then up the ascending foot-road, — His form growing less 
and less, till it was, lost from her sight in the distant valley. 
Perhaps she would, through her tears, call to mind her own divine 
song and anew sing it, " My soul doth inagnify the Lord, and my 
spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." 

When Jesus left Nazareth it was winter (the time of our 
month of February), when the trees were in early bud, and the 
young corn was showing its first green. Sometimes there are 
heavy rains at that season, but sometimes, too, the days are bright 
with sunshine and even warm. 

Whither does He go ? 

There is a great valley in the Holy Land of a very remarkable 
kind. It is like a deep seam or fissure cleft in the middle of the 
country. Through this strange narrow valley a swift river rushes 
(which you know well by name), with rocks and trees, sand- 
banks and hills, on each side of it. It is the Valley of the Jor- 
dan. The river, " The Descender " as it may weU be caUed from 
the number of its falls and rapids, is fed first of all by the melting 
snows of giant Hermon. It enters the reedy Lake Merom. Then 
passing through the Sea of Tiberias, of which you will hear more 
by-and-by, it flows, after many turnings, through jungles of 
tamarisk and willow into the Dead Sea. The shores of this sea 
are naked and dreary and barren. I have seen great logs and 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 99 

branches of wood brotight down by the rapid stream, lying on the 
beach, quite white with the salt, and very bitter when put to the 
lips. It is extremely hot all around; the hottest air I ever 
breathed was there. There is neither cloud nor shadow, but 
a fierce jSery dazzling glare. No wonder, however, it is so stifling, 
for this " Asphaltite Lake" is no less than 1300 feet below the 
level of the ocean. 

Somewhere in the Jordan Valley, and at some open place on 
the banks of the river, was a ford called Bethabara, which means 
" the House of Passage." On its eastern side, at this time, a great 
crowd gathered day after day. They were collected from all parts 
of the land. Numbers seem especially to have come from Jerusalem 
by the dreary, rugged road which led down to Jericho, and where 
the man of the Gospel parable fell among thieves. All kinds of 
people, too, seemed to be among the assemblage : old and young, 
rich and poor, fathers and children, soldiers with helmets on their 
heads and swords dangling at their sides : wild Arabs with their 
spears, and shepherds with their crooks : sailors from Joppa : fisher- 
men from the Sea of Galilee : ragged beggars from the streets and 
waysides : peasants from their vineyards : tradesmen from their 
workshops : mothers with little infants in their arms. 

What do you think has taken them there ; or who do you 
suppose they have gone all that way to see and to hear ? 

It is the great Prophet of the Desert, the famous John the 
Baptist. There had been no " Seer " among the Jews for 400 
years : not since the days of Malachi. We need not wonder, then, 
when a prophet was said again to have appeared, that there 
was a mighty stir throughout the land, and that many came 
long distances to listen to this new ' voice crying in the 
wilderness.' 

John was the son of Elisabeth, Mary's cousin ; the same cousin 
she went to see at Hebron. He must have been six months older 
than Jesus. I believe both John's father and mother were now 
dead. He was, .therefore, an orphan ; he had neither parents, nor 
brother nor sister. If he had wished, he might have become a 
priest like his father, wore the priestly garments, offered sacrifices 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



and burned incense. But he chose to serve God in the great 
Temple of Nature, rather than in the Temple of Jerusalem. 

Let me tell you something more ahout him. His face was 
browned with the sun. Long shaggy hair, which had not been 
cut for thirty years, hung down his back. He did not wear even 
the cloak striped with blue which the poorest peasants possessed. 
A coarse rough camel's hide was flung over his shoulders, and 
tied round his waist. That girdle was often made of linen and 
wrought with thread of gold and silver ; but a piece of untanned 
leather — a rope of skin — was all that fastened John's clothing. So 
wild and strange did he appear to some, that they thought he 
must be mad and possessed with a demon ; — " they say he hath 
a devil " (Matt. xi. 1 8). He was a man who cared nothing at all 
about comfort. Although, as a child, he had lived among the 
smiling vineyards of Hebron, near where the famous grapes of 
Eschol grew, he had now no house to live in — no one to spread 
his couch, or cook his food. He ate the wild fruits and roots 
gathered in the woods around, and the wild honey which the bees 
had stored in holes of the rock. The only animal sustenance he 
allowed himself (if we can call it so) was locusts. These, however, 
I may tell you, formed no uncommon or strange meal to the children 
of the desert. Locusts prepared for food, steeped in brine and dried 
in the sun, find, indeed, their way at this day to the bazaars and 
markets of many Eastern cities, and are there purchased by the poor. 
The traveller Burckhardt tells us he had himself seen "locust shops" 
in some Arabian towns. More than that, in one of the Nineveh 
marbles, locusts are represented as being carried by servants to the 
royal table, though, doubtless, served up under a more dainty form 
than the desert fare of the Baptist. He dwelt, likely, in some hut 
made of leaves, or, perhaps, in one of the caves which were com- 
mon there. Josephus speaks of a man of the name of Banus with 
whom he himself lived for three years in the same wilderness. 
This hermit's manner of life may describe to us what John's was, 
" He used no other clothing than grew upon trees ; and had no 
other food except that which grew of its own accord ; and bathed 
himself often in cold water, both by day and night." The Baptist, 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 



I need hardly say, was very brave. There were lions and 
leopards and hyenas, down m some places of the Jordan jungle, 
among the tall canes which line its banks, but their roaring 
during these long nights did not frighten him. He made his 
couch and pillow the turf. The swift Jordan, with its thicket of 
reeds, was at his side, and the beautiful clear bright stars were 
above him. He was all alone in these hours of darkness. And 
yet he felt he was not alone, for the G-reat God of Abraham was 
with him. Having the fear of this good and gracious Jehovah, 
he had no other fear. You remember Solomon says, " The right- 
eous are bold as a lion" (Prov. xxviii. i). And when the gloom 
of the night was over, and the sun again shone out on the white 
cliffs of the river, he would go forth from his leafy dwelling, in 
order to speak all day long to the vast crowds who were waiting 
for him. I may just further remark that it must have been 
somewhere amid the mysterious mountains behind, that the man 
so like him in character — the great Elijah — went up to heaven 
in his chariot of fire. 

What was the subject of the Baptist's address ? It was about 
the sins of those who had come to hear him. But observe, his 
appeals were not about sin in general. He spoke to each in- 
dividually about their own particular faults and failings, — the 
servant, the soldier, the Publican, the Pharisee, the Sadducee. 
He cried aloud over and over again, with the fire of truth and 
earnestness in his eye, " Eepent, Eepent." He spoke of " the 
wrath to come," and told them to flee from it. 

He might well thus preach to those present, yes, and millions 
beyond hearing of his voice ; for as I previously told you, never 
perhaps were the inhabitants of the world more wicked than they 
were then : kings and queens and princes ; priests and nobles ; 
masters and servants ; I fear even youth and children. And the 
worst was, that people such as many of those John was addressing, 
did not feel how sinful they were. Their hearts were as hard and 
rocky as the stones of the Jordan lying at their feet. The Baptist, 
who had been brought up by a holy mother, was glad to get away 
from the towns and cities where this evil and wickedness specially 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



abounded. He could bear a cheerless hut, and the cold night, and 
the dewy grass, and the winter rain ; but he could not bear to 
live among those whose lives were lives of iniquity. I have just 
said, he was a bold man and not given to tears, but I almost 
think, from the strong words used, that he must have wept at 
times now, as he spoke of this evil that was around him, and 
which he hated so much. 

He tried to make those he exhorted sorry for their faults. 
Perhaps, at the moment he was speaking, he heard, in the dense 
forests around him, the ringing axe of the woodman cutting 
down a dead tree or lopping its branches. He told them that 
the nation of the Jews — once " a holy nation," had become like 
useless trees about to be levelled to the ground, and cast into 
the fire. 

That crowd, on the patches of green grass by the river side, 
never took their eyes for a moment off the speaker. With what 
silence they all listened ! Look at yon soldier. He is trembling 
as he never did before in the hour of battle ! Look at yon 
shepherd ! so interested is he, he has almost forgotten the flock 
of sheep he had just brought across the river, and was driving to 
the Temple for sacrifices. Look at yon Publican ! — the collector 
of the Eoman taxes — how his conscience is roused within him as 
the speaker brings to his remembrance his greed and lying, his 
cheating and oppression. Look at yon old man and these young 
men too — the tears are starting to their eyes, as he speaks of the 
fan and tlu axe, the chaff and the burning. 

" What shall I do ? " cried one. " What shall we do .? " cried a 
group of others. It will remind you, perhaps, of another scene in 
a future year, when a gaoler, with a flaming torch in his hand, 
sprang into the cell of two chained prisoners, and called out, in deep 
agony of soul, — " Sirs ! what must I do to be saved ? " (Acts 
xvi. 30). 

But John told the stricken listeners around him joyful news 
also. When he lifted up his voice, and cried " Repent ! Repent ! " 
he added, " The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." The river that 
rolled by had been, several times in the past, the silent spectator 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 103 

of the Power of God : and it would ere long, " see greater things 
than these." The Dead Sea — the Sea of Death — with its sullen 
waters, was within sight of where John stood. But he came to 
proclaim ' The Life ; ' to reveal to thirsty souls the Fountain of 
Living waters. "In Him was life, and the Life- was The Light 
of men." Oh happy tidings for many heavy, weary, broken hearts 
that were listening to him ! So stirring were the Baptist's words, 
and so famous had he become throughout all the land, that a great 
number began to wonder whether he was not himself, either the 
Prophet Elijah come to life again, or else the promised Messiah ! 
' Can this,' they said to one another, ' be Elias ? or, better still, 
can he be the Great King at last arrived to destroy the hated 
Eoman and set up the throne of King David, and live in the 
palace of Zion ? ' " All men mused in their hearts of John, 
whether he were the Christ or not." 

John was so humble, he could not bear the thought of being 
thus mistaken for either; and especially mistaken for Jesus. 
He tells them, ' No ! You must not for a moment think that I 
am He.' He came indeed "in the spirit and power of Elias." 
But you remember in the " Drama of the desert," when that Pro- 
phet beheld from his cave ' the earthquake, and the wind, and the 
fire ; ' — these were only to prepare him for listening to " the still 
small voice." So it was with John. His preaching was the 
thunder and storm, preceding the calm and the brightness. " He 
was the Prophet of the Highest." He was only a night-watch- 
man sent to rouse the sleepers, and announce the Eisen Sun. 
Or, to use his own more forcible comparison, when they pressed 
him, and said ' Tell us, then, who you are ? ' he answered that 
he was only like one who ran before and told the people of another 
' Mightier than he,' who was coming. 

I remember, when in Cairo, seeing some finely-formed black 
Nubian boys, running before the carriages of the nobles and rich 
men. They held a long silver wand in their hands as they cleared 
the way in the crowded streets. John likens himself to such a 
runner ; his voice calling out and " preparing the way of the 
Lord." He was only the Servant and Herald of the Great King ; 



I04 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

not the King himself. " Behold" said God by His servant 
Malachi, " I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare Thy way 
lefore Thee." John tells the crowd around him that there was 
One at hand, " the latchet of whose shoes he was not worthy to 
stoop down and unloose." Beautiful indeed is his humility ! 
I have often seen in the Alps, in early morning (and there is 
no sight in nature grander), the snowy peaks tinted with gold, 
before the orb of the sun is seen. So bright are these pinnacles, 
you might almost mistake them for the sun itself. But not so. 
They only tell that the sun is close at hand, and that he will 
soon be seen. John was like these flaming mountain tops, catch- 
ing the glow of the coming Sun. " He was not that Light : hut 
was sent to bear witness of that Light. That was the tkue Light 
which ligldeth every man that cometh into the world." " John," 
says Augustine, " was a light enlightened, but not the Enligliten- 
ing Life in himself." He who was ' Brighter than the sun,' was 
about to baptize (if such a figure can be used) with His own 
divine radiance. '' ILe shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and 
with Fire." 

Look now, at this great and good Prophet ! He is, perhaps, 
standing on a ledge of rock near the edge of the river, possibly 
on one of the stepping-stones of the ford. The river at this time 
of the year must have been full, after the winter rains, and the 
water would, doubtless, be as I saw it ; not clear as we are apt to 
think the stream of the Jordan to be, but thick, muddy, and yel- 
low with the soil brought down from the hills. Fu'st one and 
then another of those who have been listening to him draw near. 
They plunge in, and then go on shore again. He baptizes them 
in the Jordan, after they have " confessed their sins." Their sub- 
mitting to the baptism of water, was an outward sign or token 
that they were not only ready to confess their sins, but to forsake 
them. John by this outward act taught them the great truth, 
that just as water washes and makes clean the body, so God 
likes nothing so much as the pure white heart ; and that unless 
they had these clean hearts, they could not be ready to welcome 
the Great Messiah. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. i o 5 

Did all the crowd thus confess their sins and have the sacra- 
mental water poured on their heads ? 

N"o. Some were very proud and haughty. They said to 
John, ' We have no need to confess anything. "We do not require 
this water baptism of yours. We are not blind heathen Gentiles, 
seeking admission among the Holy Nation. We are the chosen 
people. " We have Abraham for our Father." We are " children 
of the Covenant." ' 

John tells them, in his own plain, earnest way, that being the 
cMldren of Abraham, and having the Patriarch's blood in their 
veins, will be of no avail without holy hearts and holj'" lives.: 
" Do works" says he, " 7ne,et for repentance." He points to the 
large stones in the channel of the river or lining its shore, and he 
says, ' If you refuse to be holy and loving and good ; — if you will 
not make your hearts ready to receive the coming King, God is 
able from these dumb rocks and stones to raise up those who will 
glorify His Son, and who will be called His children. He can 
make the very stones cry out "Hosannah to the Son of David!"' 

But who is this approaching from the crowd towards the 
stream ? He does not look different from the others. They take 
no notice of Him. They make no way for Him. He is a young 
man in plain peasants' dress. 

It is none other than the meek and lowly Jesus ! He has 
made out His joarney from far off Nazareth. If the others do not 
know Him, that Man of God standing on the ledge of rock does. 

The mother of the Baptist had, doubtless, often told him in 
their house at Hebron about his own earthly relative, the Child 
of Nazareth : about His wondrous birth, unlike all others : about 
the songs of the Angels in the Plains of Bethlehem : about His 
holy and beautiful young life. 

I do not know if we have any reason to suppose that John 
and Jesus, though cousins, had often met before. They may 
have done so at the Passover or other Feasts. But Nazareth and 
Hebron were otherwise far distant. God would, however, seem 
at this moment to have flashed, in aU its fulness, the great truth 



io6 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

on John's soul — that the long-wished-for moment had come, and 
that he was in the presence of his Great Lord. The Satellite felt 
and owned the glory of the Parent Sun ! 

When Jesus comes forward and asks the Baptist to sprinkle 
water on His head, or to dip Him in the stream, the rough-clad 
Preacher starts back and says, " No ; I am not worthy to baptize 
Thee. I have rather need to be baptized at Thy hands ! " 

John had just been speaking in loud, stern tones to the guilty, 
hard-hearted sinners flocking around. But at the sight of his 
divine Ptedeemer his voice becomes low and soft, sweet and tender 
as that of a little child. 

Jesus would not let him say ' No.' He said, " Let it le so now ; 
I must fulfil all righteousness." 

There is something surely very wonderful, very touching, about 
this humility of the Saviour. At the baptism of a royal prince 
on earth, what preparations are made. The event is announced 
weeks before. When the day arrives, crowds line the way to 
cathedral or chapel. Under a fretted roof, and with a gush of 
music, the marble font or golden basin is surrounded by a 
privileged throng, and the solemn rite dispensed. How different 
with the Prince of the Kings of the Earth ! No crowds of in- 
terested spectators line the river banks. No gorgeous rites take 
place in Zion's Temple. No purple robe or kingly badge mark 
Him out from the multitude. He dips His foot in the rushing 
river, just like the others, a Pilgrim among pilgrims, unnoted and 
unknown. " He was in the world, and the world was made hy 
Him, and the world knew Him not ! " 

Just as John and He were together coming up out of the water, 
and as the drops of the stream were trickling down the head of 
the Saviour, there seemed to be a rift or opening in the heavens 
above them. Jesus, we are specially told, was at the moment 
'praying' The Holy Spirit, in the form of a dove, comes down 
and hovers over the head of Him who had just been baptized, or 
perhaps alights upon it ; and far up in the deep blue sky a voice 
seemed to speak. They listened. It was the voice of God the 
Father ; the same Father with whom Jesus had often held com- 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 107 

munion on the hills of Nazareth. I do not know whether the 
crowd listened to the voice. I think likely it was meant only 
for John. At all events, he heard it saying, " This is my beloved 
Son, in whom I am well pleased." 

The Divine Father speaks, the Divine Son prays, the Divine 
Spirit descends in visible shape. It is the Blessed Trinity 
revealed in the opening act of the great ministry. The Holy 
Three in One in covenant for the world's salvation. 

Some who read these words may be ready to ask, and I do 
not wonder, ' Was it not a very strange thing for the Holy Jesus 
to be baptized at all ? We thought that baptism was only for a 
sinner ; that it spoke of the need of having sin washed away, and 
of the heart being made clean ? This could not surely be in any 
sense true of the Saviour. How could He who never transgressed 
require to be dealt with just as the vilest and basest of that crowd 
at the Jordan, and to have the water of the river sprinkled on 
His sacred head ? ' 

I have already given you the reply of Jesus Himself, when John 
seems to have felt the same astonishment. But I have another 
answer. Jesus, although He had no sins of His own, came into 
the world in the sinner's room and in the sinner's stead. He 
took your iniquities and mine upon Him. Holy and harmless 
Himself, He was reckoned and dealt with in the eye of the law as 
if He had been a sinner. I do not know any better reply to your 
question than the words of the Apostle Paul, which you will find 
in 2 Cor. v. 2 1 . He would almost seem, as he wrote them, to 
have been looking at Jesus standing in the channel of the Jordan 
and receiving a sinner's rite at a sinner's hands. " For He hath 
made Him to he sin for us, who Jcnew no sin; that we might he 
made the righteousness of God in Him!' 



lo8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

XIL 

%t goes tD tf)e lEount of Eemptation, 

A MYSTERIOUS cloud gathers around The Sun of Eighteouness 
just when beginning to sliine in His meridian brightness. It 
reminds us of a verse in Isaiah, " The sun shall be darkened in 
his going forth " (Isa. xiii. i o). 

Immediately after the Baptism of Jesus, perhaps before there 
had been time for the great news to be whispered through the 
crowd, He silently withdraws Himself. Whither can He have 
gone ? Now tliat His Father has proclaimed Him to be " His 
Beloved Son : " can it be to Jerusalem to be proclaimed on Mount 
Zion King of the Jews ? 

No. It is to he tempted of the devil for forty days in the 
wilderness ! 

I cannot exactly tell you to what particular place He resorted. 
I remember when on the banks of the river Jordan, and looking 
up to the hills both on the right and on the left, I felt sure it 
must have been to one or other side He went. If it was to the 
left, which is perhaps the more likely, oh, in what an arid cheer- 
less desolate desert He had lived ! It is aU white with lime- 
stone, and has very little of anything green in it, save some 
stunted bushes. I do not think there is such wild and bleak 
scenery in the world. Even the ruts or channels in the hillsides, 
where you expect to see water, are dry, and fiUed up with big 
stones and burning sand. 

The " Palestine Explorers " have not long ago visited this 
' Quarantana,' as it is caUed, or in Arabic ' Kuruntul.' They 
describe the view from the highest part as magnificent. The 
Jordan and its great plain ; the mountains beyond ; the Dead 
Sea and the Wilderness of Judea, round to the Mount of Olives. 

How Jesus spent that awful time we are not told. Probably 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 109 

in mountain caves or holes of the rocks. There were no roads, 
no houses, no human voice to cheer the solitude — no fold of a 
shepherd, because no flocks could live on such blighted pastures, 
— no sound of stream, no hum of insect, or song of bird. 

St. Mark tells us that " lie was with the wild heasts." — (Mark i. 
13.) It is plain, however, that, wild and fierce as their natures 
were, they did not harm Him. They rather seem, as in our 
opposite picture, to have lain submissive at His feet, as if they 
had felt He was not their foe, but their Friend. 

You may recall one of childhood's favourite stories, whether it 
be truth or fable, of " Androcles and the Lion," or " The power of 
kindness." This gentle, yet brave fugitive, who had escaped from 
human oppressors, was said to have extracted a thorn from the 
foot of a lion he found one day writhing ia agony in the depths 
of the forest into which he himself had taken refuge. Thus in- 
stantly relieved of pain, the savage animal seemed to forget its 
wild instincts, and gradually became the companion of the lonely 
man's solitude. Months after, so the tale farther narrates, 
Androcles, captured by his foes, was taken to the arena to be 
torn by wild beasts. A monster, selected for the cruel sport, 
bounded into the amphitheatre. But instead, as the gazing crowd 
expected, of seeing him rend the victim in pieces, he crouched 
at the feet of his old benefactor, and licked his naked body in 
silent token of gratitude. 

I may add a similar anecdote of recent date. On the woody 
top of Tabor, another hill in the Holy Land, a Eussian hermit, 
not many years ago, lived in a cave. He was a kind and good 
man. One winter day a panther, with beautiful spots on its 
skin, came close to his secluded home. He looked fondly at it 
without manifesting fear, and threw it a piece of bread. It soon 
became quite tame. Ever after the panther lived with him ; and 
the graceful creature was seen wherever the hermit went, keeping 
by his side, or following him like a dog all over the mountain.^ 
If this were the result of such treatment by ordinary mortals, I 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



can quite believe how the wild animals in the Judean desert 
would show no fury of any sort to the only sinless One, the 
Kindest of the kind, — " Holy, Harmless." At all events, in the 
case of a Greater than Daniel, God would shut every lion's mouth 
so that they might not hurt His dear Son. 

But I have already told you of a far worse enemy He had to 
contend with, than even the fiercest lions and wolves. It was 
the Arch-enemy of God and man. Satan was allowed to meet 
Jesus in that stony desert and to tempt Him. The same dark 
spirit who had caused Adam and Eve to fall from their happy 
state in Eden, came and used all his wiles to make the Second 
Adam sin. 

We know not in what shape the devil appeared. Whether 
as a wayworn pilgrim ; or as a hermit from one of the caves 
around ; or in demon-form, as a prince of darkness ; or in the 
guise of a heavenly visitant — an angel of light. But what 
hours these must have been ! He who was all Pure meeting 
him who was all impure. He who was all Light meeting him 
who was all darkness ! 

It would take too long to describe the succession of wicked 
thoughts the great adversary sought to put into the heart of the 
Holy One. I would, however, like to make three remarks about 
these temptations. 

First, Satan did all he could to shake Jesus' trust in God, and 
make Him doubt his Father's love. 

Just think of some one coming to you, who love your earthly 
father much, and seek to please him in every way you can ; 
imagine some such wicked person trying to get you to distrust 
him — to doubt his care, and to do what you know would be 
quite contrary to his wishes. More than this : putting words 
into your father's lips which he never said, and perhaps offering 
you rich and beautiful presents and bribes if you would do 
something that would displease and dishonour the parent you 
reverence. 

Such, but in a far more dreadful form, were the awful temp- 
tations which Satan offered to Jesus to forget and forsake and 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 



distrust that Better than the best of all earthly parents, the 
Eather who had been so gracious to Him ; and to whom on the 
other hand He had been so dutiful and obedient. 

The second thing I would note is, that he chose for his terrible 
assault what he knew would be the time of Jesus' greatest 
bodily weakness. It was at the close of the forty days' fast, 
when the Son of Grod was hungry 'and faint and weary. For 
you must remember all that time Jesus had tasted nothing. 
There was no Brook Cherith to slake His thirst ; no ravens, as 
in the case of the lonely Prophet of a former age, to fetch Him 
bread, morning and evening. 

And the tMr(^ thing I would like to point out is, that the 
Saviour in His replies quotes in every case a verse of Scripture. 
He fought the Great enemy of mankind with " the Sword of the 
Spirit, which is the Word of God." Not only so — but it is well 
worthy of note that all His answers are from that special por- 
tion of the Book of Deuteronomy which, as I have previously ex- 
plained, Jewish children were in the habit of learning by heart. 
Eeminding us surely what a good thing it is to have the words of 
the Holy Bible so laid up in our memories, that when the hour 
of temptation comes, we may be ready, as Jesus was, to meet 
every assault with a Bible weapon. Three times Jesus was 
tempted ; and three times over He says, " JSTo, I shall not do what 
you bid Me ; for " It is written " ! " It is written ! " " It is 
Weitten." 

Though the Prince of this world came, he found nothing in 
Him. Jesus loved His Father too much to listen to the Evil 
One. The Tempter saw how vain it was to try and make Him 
sin. There are spots on the sun ; but there were no spots in the 
holy human nature of Him who is " Brightee than the Sun." 
So the devil left Him at last, and went away to his own wicked 
abode, among his own wicked spirits, those " wandering stars to 
whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever." 

Then, we are told, angels came and ministered unto Jesus. 
They would likely bring Him food to eat and water to drink. 
They would spread a couch of repose in the lonely desert, and 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



hover over it as He slept, and comfort Him above all things with 
the thought, that He had done His Heavenly Father's will. 

How glad the Holy Son of God would be when He came down 
at last from those white jagged rocks to the Plain of Jordan, and 
was once more close to His loved friend and earthly relative John 
the Baptist ! 

You see, young readers, how soon in His public life Jesus was 
sent to the school of trial and temptation. Perhaps you may 
recall a verse which speaks about these lessons which were taught 
Him of suffering and endurance, — you will find it in Hebrews 
V. 8. "Tliough He were a Son, yet learned He obedience hy the things 
which He suffered." These few dark clouds, however, so far from 
dimming, rather increased the glory of the Divine Sun of 
Eighteousness. Just as after an Alpine thunder-storm the air 
is cleared, and the hidden sun shines forth brighter than ever in 
its sky of cloudless blue. 

In my next I shaU tell you what John said about his Lord, and 
how others were brought to call Him Master, before He returned 
again to Galilee. 



XIII. 

He receibes His fet follobjersf^ 

One day in the month of March, when John was addressing the 
crowd of anxious inquirers in the desert, he saw of a sudden the 
same Holy Being whom he had baptized in Jordan six weeks be- 
fore, coming in the direction where he stood. The Baptist in a 
moment paused in his discourse. Questions had been pouring in 
upon him from the excited sin-stricken multitude ; — " What 
shall we do ? " " Where shall we go with the burden of our 
sins ? " " Who can save us from the wrath to come ? " In a 
moment an answer is revealed to him and to them ; and pointing 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS, 1 1 3 

witli his finger, lie exclaimed — "Behold the Lamh of God, which 
taketh away the sin of the world ! " 

The next day also, John again beheld Jesus " as He walked," 
and repeated the very same words. The paschal lambs were ere 
long to be killed in Jerusalem. Perhaps a flock of them, as has 
been suggested, were coming across the river at the moment he 
was speaking. He tells the people, 'Here is the true Passover 
Lamh, who is to be slain for all mankind ! ' 

On this second occasion there were two disciples among others 
who heard the Teacher's words. These two, we have good reason 
to believe, had for sometime attached themselves to John, coming 
and going frequently from their Galilean home to his secluded 
meeting-place in the desert, and were prepared by him for wel- 
comiag the promised Messiah. The one was a middle-aged man ; 
the other was a good deal younger, probably four or five years 
junior to the Baptist, and to a Grreater than he. They were two 
fishermen from the Sea of Galilee. They had left their boats and 
their nets once more, that they might hear the Prophet of the 
desert. The names of these two fishermen were Andrew and 
John. The last was the same who received from his Lord the 
appellation " Boanergos," which means " Son of thimder," and 
who- came afterwards to be known by the more beautiful title, 
" The Disciple whom Jesus loved." 

The Baptist would seem to have addressed them alone, apart 
from the multitude. When they heard him speak of " the Lamh 
of God," and when the Saviour was pointed out to them, they 
said to one another, ' Let us follow Him.' 

With what reverent steps they must have done so ! They 
would wonder what Jesus would say. Would He take any notice 
of them, or would He forbid them thus to intrude upon Him ? 

Jesus heard them coming up behind Him. He turned round 
and asked what they wished. 

He looked worn and weary. His face was pale with the forty 
days' fast. But they saw at once, from His kind look, that He 
was not displeased at their thus tracking His steps. They called 
Him ' Babhi,' and inquired where He lived. 

H 



114 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

" Come and see," were the first words they heard from the lips 
of Him who " spake as never man spake." So they went along 
with Him in silence. 

We are not told where the dwelling of Jesus was. He must 
have had shelter of some kind for the night. Having been in 
Palestine, at that very season of ^the year, I know that in the end 
of March the nights are cold, and the dews heavy. Jesus may 
have lived in some hut made of green boughs, or in one of the 
canvas tents still to be seen near the Jordan, covered with a 
rough blanket. Be this as it may, at all events, the two fisher- 
men accompany Him at four o'clock in the afternoon. 

Neither can I tell you how long they were with the Divine 
Saviour that spring evening. I dare say they waited late. Per- 
haps the moon and stars were shining on the white rocks and the 
foaming river when they returned back. Neither of them, doubt- 
less, slept much that night, thinking of the wonderful meeting 
and the wonderful talk they had had. 

The younger of these two visitors afterwards wrote much that 
was beautiful about Jesus. In all the ancient paintings we have 
of this beloved Disciple, he is represented with the eagle at his 
side or at his feet. Why was this selected as his emblem ? 
Because, like the eagle, he seems ever to be soaring on the wings 
of divine love, till lost in the radiance and glory of Him who is 
' Brighter than the Sun.' This night would give him the first 
impression of what he so often in future years wrote about and 
spoke about. This scene on the banks of the Jordan would rise 
up often before him like a bright vision, " The Woed ivas made 
flesh and diuelt among ns {and we heheld His Gloey — the glory as 
of the only Begotten of the Father), fnll of grace and truth!' In 
these reflected sunbeams, his path from that hour was as the 
shining light — shining more and more unto the perfect day ! 

Next morning, Andrew (the elder of the two) hurried to his 
brother. That brother's name was Simon; he too was by oc- 
cupation a fisherman on the great lake of Palestine. Andrew 
said to him, " I have indeed joyful news for you. He who was 
yesterday pointed to by John as 'the Lamb of God,' is none 



MERIDIA N BRIGHTNESS. 1 1 5 



other than the true Messiah. Come and see Him and speak to 
Him just as we have done." 

Simon, perhaps after a little hesitation, accompanied Andrew 
and saw Jesus. Jesus spoke very kindly to him also. He told 
him that in due time his name would be changed from ' Simon ' to 
' Cephas.' The word ' Cephas ' means a stone. His future Lord and 
Master doubtless foresaw, that though Simon would occasionally 
prove not like a rock, but rather like a shaking reed, yet that 
as he grew older he would become more and more firm, steadfast, 
and rock-like, showing high qualities of courage and endurance, 
specially towards the end of his active life. Peter lived with his 
wife and his wife's mother in a house by the lake side in Galilee. 

All these three, Andrew, John, and Peter, became the dis- 
ciples of Jesus. 

On the day following, the Saviour, crossing the ford of the 
river, went back again to Galilee. He took three days on the 
journey, thus travelling about thirty miles each day. His road 
would probably lie, first through the wild rocky passes of the 
Jordan Valley, afterwards through the plain of Jezreel or Es- 
draelon abeady described, then as richly cultivated as it is now 
desert and waste. When He had left Nazareth spring was hardly 
beginning ; but now the whole land would be gay with its rich 
carpet of flowers. The green ears of wheat and barley would be 
bending on their stalks, and every fig and olive-grove they passed 
would be fiUed with the sweet song of birds. He takes along 
with Him these three happy disciples. Other two also join them. 

The name of one of the two new followers was Phihp, a fellow 
villager and fisherman of Bethsaida. But he also feels so joyous 
in the presence and with the converse of the Heavenly Teacher, 
that he hastened to tell the glad news to his friend IsTathanael, 
whom they would seem to have accidentally met on the way. 
The good and holy among the Jews were frequently in the habit, 
beneath the leafly screen of trees in their gardens, or on the road- 
side as they journeyed, of reading the Scriptures and saying their 
mid-day prayers with their faces towards Jerusalem. Nathanae] 



(or Bartholomew as he is afterwards called), seems to have been 
thus engaged under the shade of a fig-tree, the coolest of all 
resorts in the East, when his friend Philip found him and con- 
ducted him to the presence of Jesus. Who knows, but at the 
moment he might have been reading about the promised Messiah 
and praying for His coming. 

" In his own pleasant fig-tree's shade, 

Which by his household fountain grew, 
When at noonday his prayer he made, 
To know God better than he knew. 

Oh happy hours of heavenward thought ; 

How richly crowned ! how well improved ; 
In musing o'er the Law he taught, 

In waiting for the Lord he loved," ^ 

Jesus, either when He reached, or when He got near His old 
abode at Nazareth, is told that His mother Mary was not at home. 
She had gone to a mountain village not far away, named Cana. 
There are two sites which dispute the claim to be called the 
ancient Cana. I remember looking down upon one of them in 
crossing the hills from Nazareth, — a cluster of huts among some 
straggling fig and olive trees. 

Nathanael was a native of Cana. He would, I doubt not, be 
glad when he heard the Divine Teacher was gomg there. It is 
not unlikely that he invited Jesus a,nd His other four friends 
to go and stay with him in his house. He must have been a 
kind, open, honest man, with none of the pretence and deceit 
which is so common in the world. You remember what Jesus 
said of him at his first approach. 

" Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile ! " 

At first Nathanael did not seem disposed to own Christ as 
Messiah ; or indeed as anything great or divine. He knew, from 
being a neighbour, that Nazareth was a very wicked place. Many 
of its villagers had a bad name. " Can any good thing," he said, 



" come out of Nazareth ? " But Jesus set aside his doubts and 
prejudices by proving to bi'-m that He was more than human. 
While yet afar off, seated or kneeling under his fig-tree, the all- 
seeing eye of the Son of God had rested upon him. 

" Whence hnowest thou me ? " said the guileless man to the 
Peasant Teacher, standing before him. 

" Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig- 
tree I saw thee." 

" Rabbi" he replied with all his heart, " Thou art the Son of 
(xod. Thou art the King of Israel." 

" The veil is raised ; who runs may read, 
By its own light the truth is seen, 
And soon the Israelite indeed 
Bows down t' adore the Nazarene ! " 



XIV. 

^t Curns Water into Mixiz^ 

Cana was bright and gay the day on which Jesus reached it. 
He found His mother and His cousins in another house in the 
village, where a marriage was about to take place. Surely she 
would be very happy to meet her dear Son again, after being 
away nearly two months. And yet, I cannot help thinking, she 
Would see in His countenance, more than she had ever done before, 
the traces of weariness and pain ; she would have the truth more 
strongly forced on her, that though, unlike others, not born a sinner, 
like others. He was born to be a sufferer; yes, "The Man of 
Sorrows." Perhaps He told her not a word about His forty days' 
lonely exile, and of being with wild beasts in the wilderness, and 
about meeting a worse than any roaring lion of the desert. But 
she must have guessed from His pale face and sunken eye that 



He had been passing through some time of fierce trial. The 
" sword," which aged Simeon spoke of, may have again pierced 
through her heart. 

The master of the house to which they went, being a neigh- 
bour of Nathanael, asked Jesus and His disciples to go to the 
marriage. 

The sun would just be setting over the brow of Mount Carmel : 
for it was at sunset such ceremonies began among the Jews. 
They were times of great joy. Friends came from a long dis- 
tance ; and they had a feast every day for a whole week in the 
house where the marriage took place. On the marriage-day 
itself there was music and dancing. It was kept very like May- 
day in England. Even children had their gay dresses on. They 
were prettily wreathed with flowers, and followed the torchlight 
procession with merry songs, or playing their little flutes. 

Jesus works His first miracle at that marriage feast. 

Probably the household among whom the festivities took place 
were poor, and they had not been able to lay in much provision 
for their table. When Jesus and His five disciples, whom they 
had not expected to swell their numbers, came in, they found 
that they would not have enough wine for all. Indeed, some 
of the cups were standing empty. Probably they would have 
requu-ed to go a long distance before they could secure a new 
supply. Mary, the mother of Jesus, saw that the people of the 
house were uneasy about this shortcoming. Now, whenever 
Mary was in any trouble in her cottage-home at Nazareth, she 
used always to go and teU her loved Son. She does so now. She 
took Him aside and simply said to Him, ' They have no ivine.' 
I think she expected that Jesus would work a miracle ; for she 
immediately after whispered to the servants, " Whatever He telh 
you to do, do it at once." 

There were six stone jars standing in a row, either at the door 
or at the front of the house. These jars were put there to 
allow the guests, as they came in, to dip then* hands in the water 
with which they were filled. It was always the custom among 
the Jews, in coming off a journey, when the hands and face were 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 1 1 9 

covered with dust, to plunge them in water ; or else there was 
a servant waiting to draw from the large stone pitchers into a 
smaller cup or flagon, and pour it on the hands. It would 
have been deemed unkind in any owner of a house if he had not 
vessels thus filled and ready for his visitors. "While it would 
have been thought equally rude for any of his friends to sit 
down to eat without this washing having taken place. I may 
add that the same custom was common in the Jewish Churches, 
or Synagogues, of having at the door basins filled with water. 
It would have been considered wrong for a Jew to have gone in, 
and heard the law read and the Psalms sung, if he had not first 
dipped his hands in the trough at the entrance. 

These large jars, then, at the marriage-feast in Cana, had 
served their intended purpose in refreshing the guests. They 
were emptied of their contents. Jesus told the servants of the 
liouse to go to the village fountain and fill them anew with 
water up to the top. They did as He bade them. They must 
have wondered much what the object was in thus hurrying to 
and fro with their brimming pitchers. Asking, however, no ques- 
tions, but in accordance with still farther instructions given 
them by the Stranger guest, they took out the contents in smaller 
goblets and carried it to the master of the feast. 

What a wonder he sees ! The pure water in the flagons has 
been turned into red wine ; not into common wine, but the 
costliest and best. And such a quantity too ! Enough not for 
that night, but for many a day to come. Each one of the jars 
is supposed to have held twenty gallons. How amazed they 
would all be ! I think many of the guests would be ready 
to say in the very words of Nathanael, " Thou art the Son of God ! " 

One there present would very specially rejoice. You doubtless 
know who I mean ? Yes, the Mother of Jesus would surely say 
to herself, ' I have believed all along in what the Angel Gabriel 
told me. I have hitherto kept it locked up in my heart as a 
wondrous secret. But now I see it to be true. The name of the 
Child that was born of me may surely well be called " Wonderful." ' 

How quietly, too, has Jesus performed His miracle ! No show, 



or noise, or parade. A heathen writer said : " The gods "work in 
silence." This was true now regarding Him who was " God 
manifest in the flesh." In that mighty work, and in its silent 
working, the sacred writer truly says, " He manifested forth His 
glory (John ii. 1 1). The word is a striking one, and could not 
be more appropriate to the name I have given to this section of 
my volume, " Meridian brightness." The " Bkighter than the 
SUN " ' burst forth ' all at once over Cana in His noontide 
splendour. But like His type in the firmament, He makes His 
presence and glory known by the blessing He silently imparts. 

The contrast has often been pointed out between the first 
miracle of Jesus and the first miracle of Hoses. Moses, in a time 
of trouble, changed the water of the Nile into blood : Jesus at a 
time and a feast of joy, turns water into wine. It is a picture of 
the difference between the Law and the Gospel — the Law with 
its images of terror, the Gospel with its symbols of grace and love. 

Are any of my young readers astonished to hear that Jesus, 
whom I have just spoken of as " a Man of Sorrows," was present 
at a bright scene with songs and flowers and wine ? 

I do not wonder at all. By being at this gathering among the 
peasants of Galilee, He would tell us that He wishes to make 
this world of ours happy, and the very humblest people in it 
happy. By turning the water into wine. He sanctifies all 
God's gracious gifts, and converts the common things of life into 
rich blessings. He did not come to make the earth gloomy 
and dull and sad. He did not come to teach people to despise 
the gladness of family life and the joy of family meetings. 
He came to teach them to be happy in the midst of their every- 
day work, and to set value on that little but sweet and loving 
word " Home." He is pleased to hear the chime of the marriage- 
bell, the song of the reajDer in his field, the ringing laugh of 
children at their play. Yes ; I would like you to note this, for 
many there are who, by their mournful faces, would make you think 
there should be no joy in the world at all. Jesus does not teach 
us so. It should never be forgotten that it was not at a death- 
bed, or at a funeral, His first gTeat work of power was performed, 



but at a \dllage festival — a house where there was singing, and 
playing upon the pipe and tabret; and where every face was 
lighted up with sunshine. 

Yes, He surely wished, by this picture of happiness, to show 
what He came into our world to do. It was to turn its sadness 
into mirth, — its sighs into songs ; — the black muddy water of sin 
into the red sparkling wine of joy. He would turn, if people would 
only hear His voice and do His will, what is often made a 
gloomy earth into a happy heaven. That Great Sun was placed 
in the moral firmament, to pour brightness over the face of 
the globe. He is set " to rule," not the murky night, but the 
gladsome day. 

Some of the disciples, coming fresh from the teaching of John 
the Baptist, would perhaps think it very strange to see Jesus 
making the scene of His first miracle a joyous marriage-feast : 
above all, making His first miracle the turning of water into 
wine. John, being what was caMed a, JVazarite, never tasted wine. 
He fasted and lived apart from all mirth. He had no home ties. 
He never would go to a feast. He would have felt himself very 
much out of his place at a marriage-supper with a wedding gar- 
ment on. So different such a scene would be to him from his 
home in the forest, with his camel-hair blanket and his food of 
locusts and wild honey. But much as we love and admire the 
noble character of John — so brave and honest, so earnest and 
self - forgetful — Jesus' character and Jesus' manner of living 
were truer and better still. Men were not designed by God to 
live aH alone in cells and caves, in woods and deserts, but 
rather to mix among their feUows, to do their part in the world's 
work — to love and to be loved. Jesus in His ways of life showed 
what was the brightest, the noblest, the best manner of existence : 
viz., to mingle with all that was innocently happy in the world, 
and yet never to allow the shadow of sin to darken His path. 
He felt, and He would have His disciples to feel, that He and 
they could be about the " Father's business " even amid the 
greetings and smiles and joyousness of a wedding. And He 
would have you to know, that you may look for His presence 



and blessing in the play-ground and around the cheery fireside, 
as well as when you are kneeling at your bedsides or seated in the 
House of God. 

I would like you to note what the disciples at Cana did really 
feel when they saw their Master present at this feast. Were 
they startled or surprised or displeased ? No, we are specially told 
by St. John (chap. ii. 1 1), that "His disciples believed on Him." 
As His presence carried sunshine into the marriage banquet, so it 
seems to have carried the sunshine of increased love into the 
hearts of His few followers. 

Nathanael would possibly remain after this for a little time at his 
house in the village ; but it is likely the other four disciples would 
return to Bethsaida, and resume their nets and fishing. They 
would, with joyous faces, tell their friends all that they had seen 
and heard ; and when they put on their rough coats at sunset to 
go out on the Lake, how they would love to speak to one another 
all night long about the Lamb of God ; about the miracle of the 
wine at Cana, and of His conversation with them as they walked 
by His side ! How wonderful, yet how meek He was ! how 
kindly He had spoken ! how gentle He looked ! 

They had now become the disciples of Jesus. Little did they 
think then, that ere long they would be honoured by becoming 
His chief friends. He was to love them, — yes, these poor humble 
fishermen. He was to love as brothers ; and they were soon to call 
Him, in a way they could not now dream of, their good and 
gracious Master. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 123 

XV. 

%z goes fet to tje Hafo attti tjjen to tfje ^assober. 

Jesus, His mother, and probably His disciples, went down from 
Cana to the Sea of Tiberias. 

The road by which they would travel is one of the bleakest in 
Palestine. They must often afterwards have followed it in going 
through Galilee to Samaria. I remember when I took the same 
journey how bare the fields were, with no prominent hills around. 
I may, perhaps, except one mountain to the left, with two crooked 
tops like the horns of an animal ; owing to which it is called by 
the name of " The Horns of Hattin." This is the height on 
which Jesus is supposed to have delivered His well-known sermon 
called " The Sermon on the Mount." A little way farther on, 
a point is reached from which the first glimpse is obtained of the 
great sheet of water deep down below. There are some purple- 
looking hills far beyond ; and away to the north one very large 
mountain whose top is white with snow, No one can mistake 
Mount Hermon. Jesus knew it well from the heights above 
Nazareth, for it towered like a giant above all the others. 

That half blue, half green water beneath, is " The Sea of Gali- 
lee ; " sometimes called " The Sea of Tiberias ; " sometimes called 
the "Lake of Gennesaret." I shall, after this, call it simply by 
the name of " The Lake." 

There is no sea or lake in all the world so interesting and so 
sacred as this. On its shores most of the disciples were born and 
reared. More than all, Jesus lived longer periods by this lake- 
side than in any other place in the Holy Land. He seemed to 
have a special love for it. He liked the simple ways of its 
people ; the boatmen and fishermen, the peasants and cottagers, 
the woodmen and vine-dressers, the artizans and shepherds. How 
often He used to pray in the hollows or on the top of its soft 



124 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

green hills ! How often He used to wander in meditation up 
these wooded craggy dells, fringed with flowers, in which He saw 
the beauty of His Father's hand, and amid the flocks of birds 
from which He drew the lesson of His Father's care and love. 
On that mountain, with the two peaks I have just spoken of, He 
preached ; on that beautiful beach, with its lovely silver-like shells. 
He used often to land with His disciples ; on these little spark- 
ling waves the boat used to rock from which He taught the people 
as they stood or sat on the shore. On yonder distant mountain 
of Safed, crowned with buildings, is the " city set on an hill," to 
which, probably, He afterwards referred in His great Discourse. 
As is mentioned by the Talmud, it formed one of the beacon- 
stations on whose summit signal-fires were lighted, — the Jewish 
way of telegraphing the appearance of the new moon, not only 
throughout their own land, but to their brethren of the dispersion 
as far as the Euphrates. 

What a changed scene Gennesaret is now I At the time Jesus 
was on earth it was like the more beautiful of our Italian Lakes 
— Como or Maggiore — in the wondrous life of city and village 
and hamlet — of palace, villa, and garden which lined its shores. 
Its very name, indeed, has been said to be derived from two 
Hebrew words, gm&r sarim, " Gardens of the Princes." There were 
at least nine Eoman and Greek cities which could there be 
counted. Capernaum, Bethsaida, Chorazin, Tiberias, Tarichea, and 
others. It was like a ring of emerald set with sparkling stones. 
But all are gone now. I had to force my way among taU reeds 
and thorn-bushes to reach a few fallen pillars and rubbish, thought 
to be the remains of Capernaum. Chorazin can hardly be traced. 
Bethsaida, the home of Peter and Andrew, James and John, is 
marked by a flat-roofed mill, the wheels of which are turned by 
water rushing from the hills above. Tiberias alone is left, but it 
is a town so filthy and ruinous that one is glad to keep outside its 
walls. There are still a few Arab traders who bring articles for 
sale from the looms and bazaars of Damascus : you may still see 
them gathered, with their loaded camels, around a well called " The 
Spring of the Fig-tree." How different, however, from the old 



MERIDIA N BRIGHTNESS. 125 

times, wlieii a broad-pa,ved road, like those still seen in Italy, was 
often thronged by Egyptian merchants with their balm and 
spices, and bales of clothing : or when on the bosom of the Lake 
itself, ships and boats of all sizes were seen bringing their goods 
to the Port of Capernaum on their way to the markets of the 
south. Josephus, the historian, speaks in his own day of a 
hundred and thirty war ships, where there are only now two poor, 
clumsy, leaking boats ! He tells of the surrounding hills (now 
so drear and desolate), being cultivated to the very top, remind- 
ing us of the gardens and homesteads of the Vaudois of Piedmont, 
climbing far up the sides of their giant Alps. There is nothing, 
indeed, left of grand and fertile Gennesaret, except those things 
which time cannot change : — its rippling waters, its lovely beach, 
its green and grey mountains, its red and white flowers,, — 
the lupin, the salvia, the yellow crocus, the purple hyacinth, the 
pink and crimson anemone, and the green oleander: its birds, 
with blue, yellow, and white wings : or the little bright-eyed 
tortoise which I often saw plunging into the rocky pools, or 
hiding in the reeds close to the shore. 

Yes, and there is one other memory which lives longer still, 
and which no ages can destroy. It is the beautiful thought, 
present at every turn of its creeks and bays, ' Jesus must have heen 
here ! ' On these waters He sailed ; these pearly sands His foot- 
steps trode ; — on these same flowers, which He spoke of as lovelier 
than Solomon's kingly robe. His eyes fell. These hills were the 
altars where He prayed to His Father, and where the moon and 
the stars listened to their Maker's voice ! 

I have thought it well to tell you these things about the Lake 
now, as we shall often find the Saviour coming to it; and I should like 
you to have a vivid picture impressed on your minds of the spot 
which He selected as His chief abode when He was in the world. 

Do you ask me was there any particular city or village which 
Jesus more specially made His home when He lived there ? 

He seems to have resided very much, if not always, at Caper- 
naum ; in the house, too, of His disciple Peter. How honoured 
Peter and Peter's family were in having such a Guest ! Very 



126 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

likely it was only a small dwelling. Perhaps a few fig and olive 
trees grew in front of it. A vine may have spread its green 
leaves over the lattice to screen it from the fierce sun ; and the 
graceful tassels of the caper plants (what Solomon called the 
hyssop), may have been seen hanging over its wall. But how- 
ever small and humble, surely no house in all the earth at that 
time was so worthy of the name of a ' Palace,' because He lived 
in it who was " the King of kings ! " 

Jesus did not at present remain long at the Lake. The Passover 
was near at hand. A great multitude of people were already 
flocking from the north. After a few days spent at Capernaum, 
He and His disciples would seem to have joined the pilgrims and 
to have gone up to the Feast. 

Vast numbers of these intending worshippers were doubtless 
assembling in one or more of the towns on the lake-side. 
Some had come (by the coast cities of Tyre and Sidon), from Asia 
Minor and the shores of the Mediterranean. Others, by the 
great camel-road across Mount Hermon from Damascus, bringing 
pilgrims from the region watered by the Tigris and Euphrates, 
and from the nearer valleys of the Lebanon. This is the first 
time we have heard of Jesus being in Jerusalem since " He was 
twelve years old." "We can follow Him now in thought in His 
present journey, past the village of Magdala and the walls of 
Tiberias, by the western side of the Lake. Crossing " Jacob's 
Bridge," the caravan would proceed along the east side of the 
sultry valley of the Jordan. Indeed it would pursue a portion at 
least of the same route which Jesus and His disciples had trodden 
only a few days before, after parting with the Baptist. They had 
left the region of fruit and corn-field behind on the lake-side. But 
the wild flowers still sprinkled the precipices with their varied 
hues, and the little dells were musical with the streams fed by the 
latter rains. As they continued their route, they came to richer 
pasture lands, dotted over with clumps of oak and alive with sheep 
and cattle. On their left was a hilly country which had many 
stirring memories. No Israelite could pass without recalling at 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 127 

one place the heroic and touching story of Jephthah the Gileadite ; 
— at another, the youthful home of the great Elijah ; — at another, 
the scene of King David's sad and lonely exile, where he sang 
some of his most plaintive Psalms : where the good old chief 
Barzillai the Gileadite, had the highland dwelling he valued more 
than palace walls, and nigh to which he slept in a grave " beside 
his father and his mother." Eecrossing the Jordan at one of its 
eouthern fords, the burning cliffs which frown over the sullen 
waters of the Dead Sea would come in view ; — then possibly a 
gleam of the leaden lake itself. Passing by Jericho, of which I 
have already spoken, and to which we shall refer more hereafter, 
the band of brother worshippers would ascend through the Wady 
Kelt — the grandest gorge in South Palestine — up towards the 
City of Solemnities. The dreary, silent wilderness would ring 
with Psalms : each glaring precipice of white limestone would 
echo back the Paschal songs. At last Jerusalem is in sight. It 
is approached now in a different direction from that which we 
have supposed was taken, eighteen years before, by the caravan 
from Nazareth, and affords a far more impressive view. From 
the shoulder of Olivet the whole city would in a moment open 
out before them in a vision of beauty and splendour which had 
no equal at that time on the eaxth. The gardens would be seen 
blossoming within the gates. The very hyssop would have its 
vernal freshness on the olden walls, the green mingling with the 
white of the marble and the gleam of the golden pinnacles. The 
slopes of the Mount of Olives, as before described, would be 
thronged with pilgrim-tents, and resounding with the buzz of many 
thousand voices. The great deep trench of the Kedron Valley 
lay between. Well has it been said " Never had a city such 
natural bulwarks " — the types of a nobler and surer defence — "As 
the mountains are roimd about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round 
about His people from henceforth even for ever." 

We have nothing in modern times at all like these gatherings 
at the Passover. The nearest assemblages to them I can think 
of, are those at the great Exhibitions which have been held, 
during the last twenty years, in some of the principal cities of 



Europe and America; which began with our own first Crystal 
Palace, and which brought together multitudes not only from 
all parts of Great Britain but from every quarter of the globe, 
even as far as China and Japan, The difference between the 
two was this — that the Passover, unlike these others, was a 
sacred gathering, made up of Jews alone, who came not to 
a great show for mere pleasure and instruction, but in order to 
keep a holy feast and to worship their Fathers' God. But it 
was like the others in the great crowd assembled from every 
part of the Holy Land, as well as from many other distant 
cities and countries outside Palestine, to which Jews had gone 
for purposes of trade. It was like the others in the varied 
dresses worn, the different languages that were spoken, the 
difficulty of getting house-room and lodging. The city swarmed 
like an enormous bee-hive. 

When Jesus and His disciples reached Jerusalem, He went to 
the Temple. 

He had already begun His great public work. He had been 
publicly baptized ; He had performed His first miracle ; He had 
chosen His first disciples. And now it was well that in going 
up to the capital city. He should do so not merely as a Jew to 
keep a national feast, but as the King of the Jews and the 
Messiah of the nation to display His power ; or, as we have found 
John calling it, to " manifest forth His glory," and proclaim His 
kingdom. 

If I have likened the Passover to one of the great modern 
Exhibitions, I think I may in this other respect, with reverence, 
compare it to a spectacle of a different kind of more recent 
occurrence. I refer to the mighty gathering in India, when vast 
multitudes — kings, princes, rulers, subjects, all assembled in the 
old city of Delhi to hear our beloved Queen proclaimed Empress 
of that enormous country. Jesus is from this time about to declare 
His Kingship and Sovereignty over the hearts of men. But, alas ! 
the farther resemblance between the two cases fails : for no royal 
shout arose to welcome Him, no trumpets of fame sounded His 
praise — " He came unto His own, and His own received Him not!" 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 129 

Our Queen is herself called by the Hindoos "The Btar of India," 
and she confers a " 8tar " as the Eastern badge of honour. But 
He who is Brighter than the brightest " morning star " " &hone in 
the darkness, and the darkness comprehended Him not." 

On entering the courts of the Temple, the first kingly act of 
Jesus was a noble one. We have seen how, all through child- 
hood, youth, and manhood, He had loved His Father's name and 
sought to do His Father's business. His first deed — we may call 
it His first miracle in Jerusalem — is to defend the honour of His 
Father's house. On what occasion could this be more effectually 
and impressively performed, than when the crowds I have spoken 
of had come together for this sacred holiday. 

He was made sad when He saw a multitude gathered in the 
holy courts, who were converting them into a place of gain, with 
noise and wrangling and confusion. 

You who have never been in Eastern towns cannot believe 
what a loud din is made in the bazaars where articles are sold ; 
very different from our quiet shops and markets at home. 

Jesus would not have minded the noise, if these traders had 
put up their booths and stalls in the streets, or on the green grass 
of the Mount of Olives. But He could not bear to see " His 
Father's House " turned into a place of business ; — stall-keepers 
selling, with fierce and boisterous tones, offerings for the Temple 
service. Where the Court of the G-entiles was — on either side of 
that " Beautiful Gate of the Temple " I have formerly described — 
there were erections made for cattle-dealers and poultry-merchants. 
Lambs were bleating, oxen were lowing, pigeons were cooing 
under the cedar-roofs and marble pillars. In one booth there were 
cages of turtle-doves : in another a row of young pigeons. There 
is a man who is doing his best to cheat a customer in the sale of 
a kid or lamb. There is another who, after loud altercation and 
squabbling, is leading away by a halter an ox he has just pur- 
chased. In the Court of the Women, too, there were tables on 
which were placed chests and piles of silver coin, with the greedy 
grasping changers of money standing behind them. These were 
giving Eoman and Greek coins of copper and brass, which had 

I 



:30 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

often lieatlien images upon them, in exchange for half-shekel 
Jewish ones of silver, one of which each Pilgrim had to pay as a 
charge for the altar. The money-changers, utterly forgetful of 
the holy ground on which they were standing, were only intent 
on making the most of their opportunity — taking advantage of 
the strangers who brought with them foreign coin — also of the 
humble peasants and country-people, who, in their simplicity, could 
be so easily cheated. On other stalls there would likely be 
dresses and garments, — what are still called " Caftans " and 
" Alias," — coverings for the head, and striped cloaks of red 
and blue. There would be ear-rings and bracelets ; there might 
even be some of those beads, shells, and flowers which are sold 
to this day in front of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, and of 
the Church of the Nativity at Bethlehem. 

The sellers, I need not tell you, had no love for God, or for 
His Temple. They only wanted to make money, and to drive 
the best bargain they could. What an abuse of these sacred 
places ! All these foul sights, foul odours, and distracting sounds 
mingling with the smoke of holy sacrifice, the fumes of holy 
incense, and the sound of holy Psalms. Well might the Great 
Lord of the Temple say in the words of the Prophet Samuel to 
King Saul — " WJiat meaneth then this Heating of the sheep in mine 
ears, and the loiuing of the oxen which I hear V ( i Sam. xv. 1 4). 

And yet, to show that we Christians have no right to be severer 
on the conduct of the Jews than upon our own, you will wonder, 
when I mention in passing, that in the time of King James I., 
the principal church in our country — the great cathedral of St. 
Paul's in London — was quite as bad as the Temple of Jerusalem 
in that early age. A large portion of it was filled with booths ; 
it was turned into a fair. The English hucksters had not even 
the excuse of the Jews, that many of the things were for the 
Temple service. Goldsmiths had shops or stalls for rings and 
bracelets. Toymen had their toys ; owners of poultry had their 
hen-coops ; even dogs were chained to the wooden benches, or 
lay crouching at the base of the church-pillars, for sale. I tell 
you this, that you may be thankful we live in times when God's 



name and God's house are had in greater reverence. It would 
shock all good people to see such things now. 

But to return to the Court of the Gentiles at Jerusalem. 

Jesus greatly disliked such a scene as I have described. He 
knew and felt that He was Lord of the Temple, that its holy 
courts did not belong to these shameless sellers, but to His 
heavenly Father. It was intended to be " a House of Prayer," 
and it was turned into a house of gain. How could the Priests 
pray ? how could the sweet Psalms be sung amid that sea of 
hoarse voices, the noise of herdsmen and cattle ? 

What did Jesus do ? 

He saw some hempen string — fragments of rope and halters — 
lying on the floor. He took these in His hand, or, as others sup- 
pose, some of the grass or rushes which formed the litter of the 
cattle, and made a whip of them. Then, not in. wrath (for that 
could not be) but in holy anger, and jealous for His Father's 
honour. He drove all out; herdsmen and their flocks, bird-sellers 
with their cages. " Take these things hence," said He. While, 
passing into the next court, the heaps of money were swept by 
Him to the ground and roUed amid the dust under the broken 
wooden tables. " MaJce not," He exclaimed, " My Father's house a 
place of huying and selling ! " 

How could this single Man effect such a work ? His disciples 
seemed only to look on. They gave Him no help. He had no 
sword; no battle-axe; no spear. A scourge of small cord, 
twisted together, and that, too, in the hands of, apparently, a humble 
peasant of Galilee, did it all ! 

I answer, it was the Divine power within Him, which per- 
formed what was little else than a miracle. It made that whip 
of cords to act like a legion of soldiers, and these few words of 
rebuke to fall like tones of thunder. It is said that the mere 
glance of the human eye can make the lion to cower in his lair 
or den. What must have been the glance of Him " whose eyes 
are as a flame of fire ? " (Eev. i. 14). The bright sun which can 
warm and gladden with a gentle genial heat, can also burn up 
and scorch. " His countenance was as the Sun shineth in his 



132 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

strength!' " Who can stand in Thy sight when once Thou art 
anfigry ? " 

I wonder if you can recall a verse in one of the later Prophets, 
which speaks of this sudden coming of Christ to the Temple in 
Jerusalem? It is from the Book of Malachi (iii. i) : "The 
Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to His temple, even the 
messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: lehold. He shall 
come, saith the Lord of Hosts." 

I think we have reason to believe (John ii. 23) that on this 
same occasion Jesus wrought some other miracles in the Temple- 
court, or at aU events gave some other signs of His power, and 
added to the number of His disciples. 



XVL 

^t meets i^tcotiemus, a 3eb3ts!j 3^uler. 

I CANNOT tell you where Jesus lived when He was at the Pass- 
over. Perhaps it was at Bethany. Or there is reason to sur- 
mise He had occasionally a home in an olive-farm on the Mount 
of Olives near the Garden of Gethsemane. 

Wherever it was, one night, when the sun had set and both 
streets and roads were in darkness, a man is seen muffled in his 
long cloak or Abhah, screening himself from observation. He is 
evidently bent on an errand he wishes no one to know anything 
about. It is not, however, because he has committed some deed 
of guilt, which requires to be hidden from the light of day, that 
he thus hies him so stealthily along. No ; it is a very different 
reason. He is one of the few better spirits among his countrymen 
who is eagerly seeking after truth. He is dissatisfied with those 
" who call evil good, and good evil — who put darkness for light, 
and light for darkness." Groping his way in that " twHight age 
of Judaism " after the True Light, he wistfully inquires of every 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 1 3 3 

new religious Teaclier, " Watchman, what of the night ? " It is 
that inquiry which is now impelling him to leave his own dwelling 
in Jerusalem, and to risk his name and reputation by seeking an 
audience with the young Prophet of Galilee. 

JSTicodemus was a rich ruler of the Jews, and must hare been 
a well-known man. Jesus calls him " a Master in Israel." He 
was one of the chiefs of the Sanhedrim. The Sanhedrim was the 
great national assembly of the Jews. To take a comparison from 
British courts, it was partly a church synod, partly a college, 
partly a house of parliament. It was made up of aE. the chief 
men in school, and church, and state. So that we can think of 
Mcodemus as alike a scholar, a church dignitary, and a noble. 

You may remember what I said regarding the Shepherds of 
Bethlehem, that they represented the poor M^ho in every age of 
the world would come to Jesus ; also that the ' Wise men of the 
East ' represented the rich and the great who would in future 
be numbered among His followers. 

We have in Nicodemus one of the latter ; — a Jew of power and 
influence and learning in Jerusalem. And while other proud 
Israelites scorned the lowly Prophet, it must have been a joy to 
the heart of the Saviour to welcome an " Anxious Inquirer," who 
rose superior to sect and party. 

l^icodemus had heard of the teaching as well as of the miracles 
of Jesus. He resolves, at all hazards, to go and see Him ; but 
waits till the bulk of the Passover crowd have repaired to their 
tents or houses. 

Perhaps it was the evening of the same day on which Jesus 
cleared the Court of the Temple that Mcodemus went to Him. 
He wished to hear specially about that " Kingdom of God" which 
the new Teacher was reported to be proclaiming. He would seem 
to have been humble and courteous and kind. He is not repelled 
by the lowly appearance and the peasant dress. He calls Jesus 
" Eabhi" a title of dignity. He owns Him at once as " a Teacher 
come from God : " although no more than a Teacher. " No man" 
he said to Jesus, " can do these miracles that Thou doest except 
God he with him." It is manifest he never dreamt of any con- 



134 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

nection between this lowly Galilean and the name " Immanuel," 
which being interpreted is " God with us" (Matt. i. 23). 

What does Jesus say to him ? 

Nicodemns wished to know chiefly, as I have just remarked, 
about " the new Kingdom ; " — partly, perhaps, also about the 
Kingdom of the blessed in heaven. 

Does Jesus all at once answer his queries ? 

No. If Mcodemus expected to hear either about the earthly 
throne of Kingly Messiah — or about " the House Beautiful," 
" The Land Beulah," and " the Crystal city," he was disappointed. 
The Saviour brings him, as He does all pilgrims, outside the gate 
of the narrow way, and seating him there says — " Except a man he 
horn again he cannot see the Kingdom of God." He must enter 
the heavenly road by the gate of a new life. He must be 
" horn of the Spirit." 

What did He mean by that ? 

It was just the old teaching of the faithful Baptist at the Jor- 
dan, — when he cried to the people to ' Eepent ; ' — to leave off 
their old sins, and become new creatures. It was like being born 
a second time ; — to become little children again — to have the old 
heart of sin quite changed into the new heart of holiness, purity, 
and love. 

No wonder this Jewish Ruler marvelled. ' What ! ' he would 
say to himself. ' I, a chief Eabbi — a strict Pharisee, who have 
kept the law, paid all my tithes, attended every feast, been daily 
at the Temple, never eaten with my hands unwashed, and have 
had the fringe of my robe scrupulously adorned with sacred texts ! 
Is all this to go for nothing ? Have I to begin my religious life 
again ? am I to reckon myself a sinner, — no better, or at least no 
nearer salvation, than any Gentile, or than the vilest Publican or 
beggar on the street ?' 

Jesus said to him, ' Yes, it is quite true ; all outward rites and 
ceremonies, feasts and fasts, tithings and washings, are nothing 
without this inward change of heart and life.' 

Nicodemus then naturally asks, " How am I to get this entii'ely 
new nature ? " 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 1 3 5 

To which Jesus replies, "It is got hy faith in Me." And 
in explaining what this simple faith in Him means, He cor- 
rects the false ideas which he, in common with most of his 
countrymen, had about the promised Messiah, as a mere tem- 
poral Euler and King. He unfolds to His hearer, with the 
greatness of divine authority combined with the gentleness of a 
friend, the great " Plan of Salvation." He gives him the coming 
story of His sufferings and death for the ransom of mankind. He 
speaks some beautiful words ; — some of the most precious and com- 
forting utterances in all the Bible. If they failed to touch the 
heart of his attentive listener at the time, they would at all events 
be laid up in his memory for some future occasion. Among these 
sayings is that sweet verse, a favourite with young and old, which 
brings into one little word of two letters what could not be 
exhausted by whole volumes — " God so loved the world." 

Jesus, in further explaining the " great mystery of godliness," 
selected from the Old Testament an incident with which the 
Jewish Euler was, doubtless, very familiar. He told him that 
He — "the Son of Man " — "the only Begotten Son of God " — was to be 
"lifted up on the cross," as the serpent of brass had been lifted 
up by Moses in the wilderness ; and that all who looked to Him 
would live and have their souls saved, just as the bitten Israelites 
were healed of their bodily wounds. 

I think I must give you in full, the closing words of this mid- 
night conversation. They surely come appropriately from the 
lips of Him to whom we have given the title in this volume, 
" Brighter than the Sun." Hear how He speaks of His own 
blessed Light, and mourns over those who reject it. " This is 
the condemnation, that Light is come into the world, and men loved 
darkness rather than light, hecause their deeds were evil. For every 
one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest 
his deeds should he reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to 
The Light" (John iii. 19, 20, 21). I dare say this earnest 
visitor remained far on in the night talking with Jesus ; the moon 
and stars may have been shining when he came away. 

How kind it was in the Divine Teacher, so patiently listening 



136 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

to his questions, so tenderly meeting his doubts and diJBBiculties ! 
We have every reason to believe Jesus stood much in need of 
rest after a day of labour and toil. But He willingly surrenders 
His night's repose in order to clear away the darkness from a 
perplexed mind. 

I do not think we have any reason to suppose that on this 
occasion Nicodemus avowed himself to be a disciple. One thing, 
however, we know, he never forgot that first meeting. He was 
timid, and no wonder. His brother Eulers would have been very 
angry with him if they had known he had gone to the lowly 
Son of Mary, to converse about some new spiritual truths. But 
though Nicodemus was at present afraid to resort to the young 
Prophet of Nazareth in open day, by-and-by he became bold and 
courageous ; for we shall find him, three years after, entering bravely 
Pilate's palace, and begging from the Eoman Governor his dead 
Master's body. He "remembered the words of the Lord Jesus 
how He said " — " He that doeth truth, cometh to The Light." 

Perhaps I may just mention, before leaving the story of 
Mcodemus, that as St. John is the only one of the sacred writers 
who mentions it, and as he gives all the incidents of the interview 
very minutely, it has been supposed that he may have himself 
been present. There is nothing improbable in the surmise. If 
so, he got from it the text and key-note of his future Epistles — - 
the key-note of his own future life — " God so loved the ivorld ! " 

After this, and at the close of the Passover, Jesus seems to 
have gone for some time to the north of Judea, and to have 
gathered round Him there a great number of followers. 

The place where He went was called JEnon, or " the Springs." 
John the Baptist was baptizing there, because there was " much 
water." No one is quite sure as to the exact spot where ^non 
was. It is supposed most probably to have been a small valley, 
about six miles from Jerusalem, opening from the Jordan (Wady 
Farah), where there are stiU several pools and fountains, called by 
the Arabs at this day "The Valley of Delight." It would be a 
quieter place than the ' Ghor ' of the Jordan itself, and not so hot. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 137 

At all events, people could stand under the shadow of the rocks, 
and be better screened from the sun. 

Jesus seems to have remained there till near the end of the 
year, and then to have returned to the Lake. 

An event at this time must have greatly distressed Him, His 
best and chiefest friend, the Baptist, had been seized by wicked 
Herod Antipas, and put into a dungeon on the shores of the Dead 
Sea. Jesus must have been all the sadder, because not only does 
He appear to have seen, at this time, a good deal of John, — speak- 
ing with him about " the Kingdom," — but John had shown him- 
self to be so good and kind and humble. Some of the Baptist's 
disciples had tried to make him jealous of Jesus, and, as rival 
Teachers, to set the one against the other. More people were 
flocking to hear Jesus than to hear John. " All men," they said, 
"come unto Him." But the latter, instead of being downcast or 
displeased, declared rather it was what made him most glad. Jesus 
was far greater than he. He was only " of the earth," a sinner 
like other people. Jesus was "from above." He had no power 
of his own. "A man," he said, "can receive nothing except it 
be given him from heaven." But that " Lamb of God," to whom 
he had borne witness, " cometh from above, and is above all " 
(John iii. 31). John seemed only to be proud about one thing; 
that he was allowed to call Jesus his " Friend," and to stand 
and hear Him, His brave unselfish words were — "He must 
increase, tut I must decrease." John, like the day-star of Milton, 

" Flamed in the forehead of the morning sky," 

But the moment the Divine SuN appeared, the " Lesser Light " was 
content to pale away and be lost in His superior brightness. " He 
rejoiced greatly because of the Bridegroom's voice." His own 
name and fame (so thought, at least, this humble-minded man) 
would gradually decline ; while the name of his adored and ador- 
able " Friend," as predicted by the Psalmist King, would " endure 
for ever, and be continued long as " (yea longer than) '•' the Sun." 



138 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

We shall hear by-and-by more of the Morning Star, ere vanish- 
ing to shine in a more glorious firmament. But Jesus and John 
never met agair tiU they met in the Heavenly Jerusalem. 



XVII. 

?^e meets a bjoman of ^amarta at Jacob's 5!Eell 

We have just seen the Sun of Eighteousness, in the case of 
Nicodemus, dispensing healing from His beams. In the story I 
am now to teU, we are called to behold a still more remarkable 
and beautiful instance of what divine grace can do, — that same 
all-glorious Sun giving " Light to one sitting in darkness and in 
the region and shadow of death." 

Jesus leaves Judea on His way to the Lake, and takes the great 
northern road leading to GaHlee : the same with which we are 
now familiar, as that by which He used to travel with the caravan 
from Nazareth on His way to the Feasts. It has been thought 
that He would not unlikely pause for the night at a spot amid 
the mountains of Ephraim well-known to travellers then, as it is 
a familiar resting-place still, although having the rather dreaded 
modern name of "The Eobbers' Fountain." It is one of the 
places I vividly recall as a 'picture of beauty' after the bleak un- 
lovely plains and hills of Judah. A fountain is always a refresh- 
ing sight in Palestine. But here, as most probably in the time 
of Christ also, the water comes trickling down amid rocks and 
verdure, bringing to mind familiar nooks at home, with moss and 
lichen, and trails of maiden-hair fern. While in the valley around, 
patches of bold rock peep out amid clumps of vine, olive, and fig. 

We can, then, with probability think of Jesus being there, the 
first night of His journey, sleeping perhaps in one of the sheltered 
hollows close by, and waking up in the early dawn amid the sing- 
ing of birds in the groves around, or amid the bleating of the 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 139 

flocks led out by their shepherds beside these ' green pastures and 
still waters.' 

In the course of a few hours He and His disciples enter the 
old plain of Moreh, where Jacob, long ages before, came up from 
his encampment in the Jordan Valley (the " booths of Succoth ") 
and dug a well for his cattle. 

Did you ever think what is meant when, at the beginning of 
the fourth chapter of John, it is said " He must needs go through 
Samaria " ? 

The ' need,' or necessity, would seem to be this, that He had a 
soul to save. The Good Shepherd had a lost sheep to restore to 
the fold. The " Brighter than the Sun " had a wandering star to 
bring back to the orbit from which it had strayed. How precious 
is even one single soul, whether old or young, in the sight of 
Jesus ! He might have reached Galilee by the nearer route along 
the Jordan Valley. But He hears the bleat of this sheep on the 
mountains of Samaria. He " leaves the ninety and nine " to " go 
after that which was lost ! " 

It was now the very middle of the day. The fierce rays of 
noontide were beating down upon His head, and when He reached 
the Well of the Patriarch, He was very weary and thirsty. So 
weary, indeed, that He flung Himself down on the stone parapet 
furrowed with the ropes by which the water was drawn up in 
pitchers, and rested ' thus ' (or, as that means, " the hest way He 
could ") ; while He sent His disciples into the town close by, to 
pirrchase a little bread and fruit for the afternoon meal. The 
strong fishermen of the Lake, used to days and nights of toil with 
their boats and nets, seem to have been able for longer journeys 
and to endure greater fatigue than their Master. 

Tired however as Jesus was, He could hardly fail to be 
interested in the scene around Him. 

There, in front, was the bare grey rocky hill of Ebal, and 
opposite it the better clothed hill Gerizim. From these two 
mountains the blessings and the curses of the law were proclaimed 
in Joshua's time ; — while the whole camp of Israel in the vaUey 
below, where the Levites stood with the Ark, echoed back their 



140 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

' Amen." He wotild recall earlier memories ; for Abraham as 
well as Jacob had built an altar close by, and the smoke of the 
first burnt-offerings — the types of His own great coming sacrifice — 
had ascended from that very well-side. Only a short way off 
towards the right, the good and kind Joseph was buried. His 
embalmed body was brought up all the way from Egypt through 
the desert, and placed there, at his own request, in its " parcel of 
ground." 

There is no place in Palestine so little changed as this is. 
The hills and the vast plain — El Mukhna ('Vale of encampment') — 
with the green growing corn, Joseph's white tomb, and the same 
Well where Jesus sat. In our visit to the spot we hired an Arab 
to bring a long rope, and, letting down a bucket through the rough 
stones on the top, got up some of the water. 

While Jesus was resting by this wayside well, He saw a 
woman from Sychar coming up with a pitcher. 

I cannot help recalling, on the occasion of this same personal 
visit, that when within a few paces of the well, I said to the friend 
who was with me, " Look there ! " What did we see ? It was 
a woman at a little distance, coming from the adjoining village 
with a pitcher poised on her head " to draw water." Little did 
that Jewish peasant know aU the sacred thoughts which she and 
her water-jar brought to our minds ! 

It was in early morning or late evening that most of the 
women in Palestine went, as they do still, to get their supply from 
the nearest well or fountain. How this woman came at noon I 
cannot tell. But it is evident the Saviour could not have spoken 
to her so plainly as He did, had she come at the most frequent 
hour, and had there been a crowd waiting. 

The water, so cool and refreshing, was deep down in the well 
and could not be reached without a rope and a bucket. Jesus 
says to the woman, 

" Will you give me some water to drink ? " 

" How can I give you water ? " she replied, rudely and sternly. 
"You are a Jew, and I am a woman of Samaria." (A Jew, at 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 141 

ordinary times, would not for the world have drunk, however 
thirsty, out of a flagon used by a Samaritan, or eaten the loaf 
that was made by a Samaritan baker). " Jews," she added, 
" have no dealings with the Samaritans." 

Jesus saw that she was full of what is called " prejudice." He 
saw, too, what was worse; for He read her heart, and knew that she 
had been a very wicked woman. He looked on her with an eye 
of pity. Seeking to convince her of her sin, He takes the well, 
by the edge of which He sat, to lead her to a far better than 
any earthly fountain: just as He had recently, in the case of 
Mcodemus, taken the noise of the wind sighing and rustling out- 
side, swinging the branches and driving the clouds (" blowing 
where it listeth "), to explain the operations of the Divine Spirit. 
He told her that whoever drank of earthly streams would be sure 
to get thirsty again. He wished to show her that no human joys, 
however bright and sparkling, can quench the thirst of the soul. 
Whereas the water that He would give was " living water." 
Whosoever drank of it, would never, in all time to come, know 
what thirst was. 

What, you ask, did He mean by this " living water " ? 

It was His own salvation : so full — so free ; offered alike to 
the king and the beggar : to old and young, rich and poor ! He 
calls that salvation, too, " a gift." 

A gift is something which is not only free but, generally 
speaking, precious. You know, I daresay, how valued wells are 
in the East ; and in no place are they prized more than in Pales- 
tine. A fountain is called " The Eye of the desert." So precious 
is water considered, that a traveller tells us when the water-carriers 
in some Eastern cities go about the streets selling it from a big 
jar fastened on their backs, they cry, " The gift of God ! the gift 
of God ! " -^ Perhaps it was to this familiar name Jesus makes so 
beautiful an allusion now. He says to the woman, " Water is A 
gift of God. But I wish to tell you of the gift of God. I would 



1 Miss Whately's " Ragged Life in Egypt," quoted by Mr. Stock in his 
"Lessons." 



142 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

like you to know that Divine Gift. I would like you to drink 
of that which quenches the thirst of the never-dying soul : and 
that for ever and ever." " Oh," said the gracious Speaker, yearn- 
ing over this poor, ignorant, guilty sinner, " if thou only knewest 
THE GIFT of God ! " (iv. I o). It reminds us of what He said so 
shortly before to Mcodemus — "God so loved the world that He 
gave" (ui. 1 6). On both occasions Jesus speaks of Himself as 
the Gift of the Father's love. 

The woman began to see that He who spoke to her was no 
ordinary man. She began also to discover that it was of some- 
thing far higher, purer, and better than about the well at their feet 
He was discoursing. She had already commenced to address Him 
with the word of respect. She called Him " Sir," and after that 
a Prophet.' She must have been struck with His patience, kind- 
ness, and earnestness. 

And yet, she did not like to be spoken of as a sinner, and to 
be reminded of her evil ways. 

She tried to turn away the conversation from herself; she 
tried to get the Stranger into a new discussion as to whether the 
Temple on Mount Gerizim, or on Mount Zion, was the holiest. 
She pointed up to the buildings on the hill close by, saying, 
" Our fathers worshipped on this mountain ; I should like you 
to tell me whether it is best to worship here or in Jerusalem ? " 

Jesus answers her that the place where people assemble for 
religious purposes is nothing ; whether it be a temple, or a 
church, or a room, or a hut, if they only worship the Great God 
in spirit and in truth. He looks to the heart, and not to the 
building. 

Again she tries to divert Him from farther probing her con- 
science by starting yet another subject. She abruptly says, " / 
know that Messiah cometh. When He is come He will tell us 
fully about all these things." 

Jesus at once replied — " / that speak to thee am Re." 

In her joy and wonder she leaves her heavy pitcher of water 
behind, and, disappearing among the old olive-trees, makes her 
way to the city. She had issued from it a miserable siuner ; she 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 143 

returns a joyful believer. On reacliing the town, she went first 
to this neighbour, and then to that, saying, " Come with me 
to the Well ! come and see one who ' has told me all things 
that ever I did / ' He knows aU about me ; about my past life, 
and my past sins ; ' 7s not this the Christ ? ' " We may sup- 
pose her farther telling them, what at all events she must have 
deeply felt, that he had addressed her so kindly and tenderly. 
' Instead of covering me with reproach and driving me to despair, 
He has spoken to me, yes even to me, of " everlasting life" ' " He 
will not break " — He has not broken — " the bruised reed ! " 

Meanwhile Jesus has remained seated on the curbstone of the 
well, gazing around Him on the fields of living green — tender 
sprouting corn — waving all around. These fields — the ripening 
grain, the coming harvest — brought other realities to His mind. 
He had just reaped, in the case of that Samaritan woman, the 
" first fruit " — the first ripe sheaf of a great spiritual harvest : 
and His divine thoughts wander on to that G-reat day when the 
reaper angels would come with their sickles and lay at His feet 
the golden harvest of eternity. He sees " the fruit of the travail 
of His soul and is satisfied." He is filled with a holy, heavenly 
joy, like to " the joy in harvest and as men rejoice when they 
divide the spoil" (Isa. ix. 3). 

By this time the disciples had returned from their errand 
into the town, carrying their loaves or cakes of bread, probably 
with some dried fruits, such as figs or raisins. They had laid 
these at their Master's side. They see how wan and weary He 
looks ; for He has not broken fast since morning, to say nothing 
of the toilsome travel through the hot plain. And though they 
saw that He was silent and taken up with other thoughts, they 
could not help abruptly, yet very reverently addressing Him. 
" They prayed Him, saying, ' Master, eat' " 

" I have meat to eat," said He, " that ye know not of." 

They said to one another, ' Who can have given Him food in 
our absence ? ' We may imagine various thoughts occurring to 
them. Could some chance traveller have passed and given 
Him out of his scrip ? or would He who turned the water into 



144 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

wine, have not got for Himself, by miracle, what could stay the 
cravings of hunger ? Could the silver plumaged doves of Gerizim, 
like Elijah's ravens, not have fetched the needed supply ? or 
could the angels that ministered to Him on the Mount of Temp- 
tation not have brought Him manna from heaven ? 

Poor dreamers ! We cannot blame the ignorant woman for 
not understanding about " the living water," when the Lord's 
own disciples are so slow to comprehend the meaning of " living 
bread." ^ 

But Jesus sets them right. He is not displeased. No, rather, 
His face beaming with joy as He thinks of the fields of im- 
mortal souls "white already to harvest," and of the glorious 
" harvest-home " of heaven, He says, " My meat is to do the will 
of Him that sent Me, and to finish His work. " 

That must indeed have been a happy day and happy hour to 
Him. Eejected for months by the Jews, He is all at once 
welcomed by these simple-hearted Samaritans ; for this woman 
was not only brought to love and serve Him herself, but a great 
number of people in the town where her home was, many of 
whom, we may suppose, had hearts as heavy and sins as many 
as her own, were led to own Him as the Messiah. We can think 
of them following her along the shady road ; — the merchant from 
his bazaar, the artizan from his bench or his anvil, the scribe from 
his table under the palm-tree, the idler from his lounge in the 
market-place, perhaps the youth from school. 

That mountain with the Temple on its top, was " the Mount 
of Blessing." The name was true in a higher sense than it ever 
was before. Jesus had spoken to the dwellers at its base of rich 
blessings they had never, till now, known anything of. They had 
learned from Him, among others, two precious truths — that God 
was their " Father" and that He was " the Saviour of the world " 
(John iv. 23, 42).^ 

^ Augustine. 

^ The subject of this rich and interesting chapter, with its many spiritual 
lessons, I liave endeavoured to treat in " Noontide at Sychar ; or, The Story 
of Jacob's Well." 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 145 

After remaining two whole days in Shechem, the Eedeemer 
and His disciples go in the direction of the Lake, to take up 
their abode there. The voice of the good and holy John being 
now stilled in death, Jesus felt it would be well that He him- 
self, more than He had yet done, should go forth and ' proclaina 
that " Kingdom of God " which His servant had so boldly and 
earnestly declared to be at hand. He resolved to begin, not 
among the learned in Jerusalem, but among the simple-minded 
viQagers and peasants of GaHlee. 

So we can think of Him and His few followers proceeding 
through that loveliest of valleys, of which I have previously 
spoken, between " the Mountains of Blessing and Cursmg." The 
valley would then be looking its best, as at that time of the year 
the rills, most of which are dry in summer, would be flowing. 
Even now eighty of these streams can be counted. If as beautiful 
then as it is at the present day (and doubtless it was), He who 
had an eye for aU that was lovely in the outer world could not 
fail to rejoice vo. His own handiwork. Might He not recall words 
He had often heard in His old home at Nazareth as peculiarly 
suitable while traversing this wooded glen, — " He sendeth the 
springs into the valleys, which run among the hills. They give 
drink to every least of the field : the wild asses quench their thirst. 
By them shall the fowls of the heaven have their habitation, which 
sing among the branches" (Ps. civ. 10-12). Passing by Samaria 
to the right — " The Crown of Pride," with its circlet of hills, they 
would cross the great battle plain which divides Samaria from 
North Gahlee. Before reaching the Lake, Jesus once more visits 
Cana. 



XVIII. 

fie Ctirfs t\)t l^oWmm's Son. 

Cana, with its pleasant gardens and olive groves, would not be 
a strange place to Jesus now. He would always be welcome 
there in the home of good Nathanael. Both old and young, 
too, of the villagers, who had met Him at the marriage-feast, 
could not l^il to love Him. There must have been, however, 
more than love. They could not help feeling that they were 
in the presence of some Great Prophet sent from heaven. No 
mere man could have turned, as He had, the water of their 
well into wine. He is going presently to give them fresh proof 
of His divine power. 

A nobleman in Capernaum had a son who was very ill ot 
fever. All the doctors round the Lake had not been able to do 
him any good. His father, with a heavy heart, feared he was 
going to die. We are not told anything about the nobleman's 
history. It is very probable that, like most of those who were 
in the wicked court of Herod Antipas, he may have hitherto led 
a life of godlessness and sin. He would Kkely have all that the 
world could bestow to make him happy. But what now to him 
was his palatial house, full table, and gilded halls ; his barges and 
galleys on the Lake, his troops of slaves, his honours at the Court ? 
Death was threatening to draw a dark curtain over every joy he 
had. He would have given aU his money and all his honours if 
that dear life were only spared. He begins, however, to fear the 
worst. The unseen enemy, who has been called " the King of 
Terrors and the Terror of Kings," is knocking loudly at his door. 

Some one had told the nobleman that He who had done many 
mighty works in Judea, was now at Cana. He thought to him- 
self, " Oh ! if I only could see this Divine Teacher, perhaps He 
could do what no other earthly Physician can. He may be 



MERIDIA N BRIGHTNESS. 1 47 

able to save me from so terrible a sorrow as the loss of my 
dear boy ! " 

Cana was five hours' ride, or twenty-six miles from the Lake. 
But he did not mind the distance. So, getting his horse saddled, 
he hastened across the bleak road, of which I have already told 
you. It would be warm and sheltered at that season by the 
Lake-side ; but very likely the nobleman would have to face 
bitter winds, or even hail and snow, when he got into these 
dreary marshy uplands. What, however, does he care ? He wiE 
bear any fatigue to get his loved one back again from the hand 
and the gates of death. 

He will go himself, too ; he will not trust the matter to any 
servant or messenger, although he had many such in his spacious 
house. In the course of that journey there would only be one 
word and one thought during its long hours on the father's heart 
and lips — " My child ! my child ! " 

He reached the village of Cana about one o'clock in the day ; 
and immediately sought for Jesus. 

" Sir," was his request to the gracious Healer, " Come down : " 
— (he says " Come down" because his home on the Lake was so 
much lower than Cana), " Come down before my son is dead, and 
heal him." 

Jesus at once said to him, " Do not fear : you may go home 
happy, for I will raise up your son for you." " G-o thy way, thy 
son liveth." 

The Saviour wished to show that He did not need to be close 
to the bedsides of the sick and dying in order to heal them. He 
could do so at a distance quite as well. 

The nobleman had great faith. He believed at once what had 
been said to him. There seemed to be something in the very 
look and way Jesus spoke, which made him put away his doubts. 
Indeed so assured is he of the restoration, that he is in no hm-ry 
to go home. If he had not thus been quite certain, we may be 
sure he would have ridden back at once to Capernaum, even 
though the night was dark, and the road dangerous with robbers. 
He seems to say to himself, ' I have Jesus' word for it, and I 



148 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

shall trust Him. When I go home to-morrow, I know I shall 
find my child well again.' 

And sure enough, it was all true : for the next day the noble- 
man's household servants met him on the road and told him, 
''Your son liveth." 

It was exactly at the time, too, Jesus pronounced his cure. 

I like to think of this " Jewish Peer " coming to Jesus. It 
again brings to mind what we recently noted in the case of 
Nicodemus, that Jesus came to cure and bless and save, not the 
poor only, but the rich and the titled, who would go to Him and 
tell Him of their wants. True, the Meek and Lowly One never 
cared about " going after great people." We never once read of 
Him entering within the kingly gates of Tiberias, or seeking the 
society of those in high worldly station — who wore gorgeous 
dresses or sat at luxurious tables, and had heaps of money. He 
far rather loved the poor. He was at home in a fisher's hut. 
He ate bread with publicans and sinners. It was the " common 
people " who " heard Him gladly." It was little children who 
smiled in His arms. But His gospel was designed for the rich 
and the noble as weU as for the despised and humble. 

How beautiful, I again say, was the faith of this father ! How 
simply he trusted Jesus ! He believed alike in the instant cure 
and the distant cure. He did not even say, like Mcodemus, 
" How can these things be ? " He took Jesus at His word ; and 
" He had seen the end of the Lord ; that the Lord is very 'pitiful, 
and of tender mercy " (James v. 1 1). What a lesson for old and 
young is here ! Just to believe and feel sure that what Christ 
promises is true, and will come all to pass. 

This grateful nobleman, known weU at Court, would carry the 
news of his son's healing to the gilded halls of Herod's " Golden 
House " (the name given to the palace in Tiberias), and among 
what are called ' the upper classes ' all round the Lake. It is 
evident he himself became from that day a disciple and follower 
of the Eedeemer. Some have thought that he was Chuza, 
" Herod's steward," or chief officer of Herod's household, men- 
tioned in Luke viii. 3. If so, the grateful mother of the cured 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 149 

boy is specially referred to in the same place. Her name is 
Joanna. She is spoken of as one of " the Holy Women " in 
higher life, who followed the footsteps of Christ, and gave to 
the Master and His disciples of their substance. 

At all events, the raising up of this noble's child would help 
greatly to extend the fame of Him who had wrought the cure. 
So that now, though only very lately an almost unknown trades- 
man in Nazareth, people began to point to Jesus as a Great 
Prophet and Worker of Miracles. Some said more : that He was 
none else than the Messiah HimseK. The Kingdom He had 
come to found had thus begun in good earnest ; so that in words 
spoken often regarding Him, " Hjs fame could not be hid." 



XIX. 

%t Ideals t!)e Hame Mm at t|je ^ool of Brtfjfstia. 

Jesus, after this, seems to have visited for a few weeks the Lake- 
side, and then to have gone back to Jerusalem at the time of the 
Feast of PuriiM, which would be about the middle of our March. 

What, you may ask, was the meaning and occasion of this 
Festival ? 

I can, perhaps, answer you this all the better, because it was 
the only Jewish feast at which I was present in Jerusalem. I 
can never forget it. It took place, amid a great noise, in a 
synagogue near " The Waihng WaU," — a well-known spot in the 
city, of which you may have heard, where the Jews go every 
Friday to weep over the ruins of their old Temple. 

The feast itself, let me tell you, first of all, was not deemed one 
of the three Great ones ; nor was it among those appointed by 
Moses. It dates long after, from the time the Jews were living 
in exile. Its design was to caU to mind the successful pleading 



of Queen Esther with her royal husband, for the Israelites who 
were doomed to death — also the story of wicked Haman, who 
had got the king to agree to so cruel and wholesale a murder. 
I remember well that evening, hearing " the Booh of Esther " read. 
The reader stood on a desk or raised platform, in the centre of 
this poor dingy building, with its bare white walls. There were 
a goodly number of boys present, with sticks and clubs in their 
hands. It was soon evident what use they were going to make 
of these, for every time the hated name of Haman occurred, they 
hissed and howled and scraped with their feet ; they beat the seats 
and floors, and anything in front of them, as if they were flogging 
the cruel and hard-hearted man ; while old and young clapped 
their hands in approval, and joined in a loud blessing, when the 
name of Ifordecai was mentioned. I afterwards bought, near the 
Jaffa Gate, an old parchment roll, very tattered and soiled, of 
" the Book of Esther," to keep me in mind of the feast, at which, 
doubtless, it must have been often read ; also one of the sweet 
sugar-cakes with bright colours upon it, which, in accordance with 
ancient custom, are yearly baked for the same occasion. The 
Feast of Purim, I should, moreover, tell you, always was, and still 
is, a favourite one with the people. It was kept as a sort of 
holiday, with loud clanging music and dancing ; something in 
the merry way of our own Gunpowder Plot fifty years ago. 

You may, perhaps, ask, how did Jesus come to join an assem- 
blage where He would be almost sure to see much He could not 
fail to dislike, and which, moreover, often amid scenes of riot, 
would call to mind an old story of hatred and revenge ? 

I think His main inducement must have been, because He 
knew that He would find a large crowd gathered together, from 
aU the towns and villages round about. Many then and there 
would hear His words, who could not be reached at any other 
time. Like all His true ministers He " sowed beside all waters." 
He went wherever He thought He would do good. He never 
" pleased Himself" His happiness was to do His Father's will. 

On the Sabbath-day He wrought a miracle at a weU-known 
place in Jerusalem, called The Fool of Bethesda. There were 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS 1 5 t 

many such pools or reservoirs in or near the city ; but the water- 
supply was much more abundant than it is now. Some streams, 
diverted from their natural courses for purposes of war as well as 
for household use, ran under the streets, and came bubbling up 
here and there in large tanks or cisterns which were (to use our 
English word) " rendered " with cement. 

Bethesda was one of these. If it is the same that is pointed 
out at this day {Birhet-IsraeT), it is situated immediately above the 
valley of the Kidron, near St. Stephen's Gate, and not very far 
from the site of the Temple. It is described in St. John's Gospel 
as being " near the sheep-market," or perhaps rather " the Slieep- 
Gate " — the gate through which the animals were driven which 
were intended for sacrifice. The pool was covered in on the top 
to shelter from the sun's rays and the winter rains, as in the 
piazzas of Italy ; while it likely had also a marble seat all round 
the rim of the basin. A great crowd of sick people were always 
gathered here (for there seem to have been no hospitals in Jeru- 
salem such as we have) : — some old, some lame, some blind, some 
palsied : some were sitting on the balustrade ; others, more help- 
less, were resting against it wrapt in their tattered blankets. I 
daresay all of them were very poor. 

Oh, what a blessing health is ! and how sad, on the other hand, 
when pain and disease, poverty and want, come together ! 

These crowds at the pool imagined there was a healing power 
in the water. The Jews believed in some Angel who came down 
now and then from heaven and stirred the fountain ; and when 
the water was agitated, the first cripple who stepped in was 
certain to be cured. Theirs was something of the same credulity 
still to be found among people in Ireland and elsewhere, who 
are seen gathering round what are called "Holy "Wells," to the 
waters of which they imagine an angel or saint has imparted 
healing virtues. 

The Jewish legend in connection with Bethesda was certainly 
a more beautiful one than that which the modern Arab connects 
with another well-known fountain in the Valley of the Kidron, 
called "The Fountain of the Virgin." When he hears now and 



152 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

then a gurgling noise in its waters, he imagines that a dragon 
slumbers in the pool ! ^ 

The name of this pool in Jerusalem, of which I am now to 
speak, was surely an appropriate one. Bethesda means " House of 
Mercy." Jesus was going now to make it still more so. He 
saw there, among the other frequenters, a man who had been 
lame for thirty-eight years. 

Try to think what that statement implies. Thirty-eight years 
of pain ! Thirty-eight years ! — When Jesus was brought a little 
child to the Temple, that man was then a sufferer ! When Jesus 
spent His happy childhood in Nazareth, and with fleet foot climbed 
its hills and plucked its wild-flowers, that man was then a sufferer ! 
He had continued so till the present hour. He could hear the 
distant blast of the silver trumpets in the Temple, he could, 
year after year, listen to the tread and the shouts of the joyous 
pilgrims as they waved their palm-branches and sang their 
marching hymns. But he could not join, he could not follow 
them. His farthest journey was to creep from his cheerless home 
somewhere near, to this saddest of meeting-places. 

For a long time (we are not told how long), day after day, this 
helpless creature had been "waiting for the troubling of the 
water." But he had no friendly arm to aid him. Always some 
nimbler foot than his got before him. He began more and more 
to fear that he would never be able to reach the pool. Perhaps 
he knew he had less chance now than usual, for a great number 
of lame and blind had come into town attracted by the Purim 
Feast, and were crowding round the fountain. 

A Stranger comes up to him. The man is startled with the 
Stranger's appearance. He is not a Priest, nor a Scribe, nor a 
Pharisee. There is nothing in the colour of His dress nor in the 
shape and fringes of His robe to mark Him out from the rest of 
the Pilgrims. But He seems so loving and gentle and good. 
And what strikes the cripple is, that while the unpitying crowd 
are hurrying past, never bestowing so much as a passing look on 

^ See Dr. Porter's Palestine, vol. i. p. 140. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 153 

the circle of sufferers, — this Stranger stops, and of His own accord 
speaks to him. 

I need not ask you to tell me who the Stranger is. It is 
the divine and gracious Physician. He notices the sufferer's 
pain- worn face. He speaks kindly to him. He inquires of him, 
" Wilt thou be made whole ? " 

" BaMi, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me 
into the pool.'''' 

Jesus meets his difficulty, by telling him to "rise, take up his 
bed a7id walk.'''' 

What does the cripple answer ? Does he say, ' Alas ! that is 
quite impossible. I can hardly manage to creep, far less to put 
my feet to the ground ' ? 

No ! there is something in that look and that word which 
whispers to him ' Try.' 

He obeys. And what is the result ? 

He rises ; folds up his rug ; and, to the wonder of all present, 
walks away with it under his arm, or on his shoulder. 

A bed in Palestine, you must remember, is a very different 
thing from an English one. It is not even a mattress, but only a 
thick quilt, which can be conveyed without difficulty from place 
to place, so that the carrying of his bed, even to this enfeebled 
cripple, would imply no great exertion. In the cottages or poor 
homes of Syria they are simply rolled or doubled up, and deposited 
during the day in a corner of the room. 

What a glad occasion that must have been to one whose case 
had seemed so hopeless ! I daresay some of you know how 
pleasant it is, after being laid up with illness for many weeks 
or months, to go out for the first time, on an early summer 
day, to inhale the fragrance of the hawthorn, or to pluck the 
wild-flowers in the dell, or to hear again the music of the 
brook and the song of birds ? Similar, surely, must have 
been the feelings of that cripple as he went forth from his 
place and scene of long weariness and pain, healed and 
restored ! 

" Stop ! stop ! " the voices of some Pharisees close by are 



154 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

heard exclaiming ; " you must not do so. No one is allowed to 
carry his bed through the streets on the Sabbath-day ! " 

The cured cripple could only tell the truth ; that He who had 
made him whole, had told him to do what they said was un- 
lawful. 

The Pharisees on that occasion were like many who have done 
great harm in the Church in every age. They were much taken 
up about feast-days and holy weeks, — about rites and fastings ; 
about the length of their prayers, and the washing of their cups 
and platters. But while occupied about these and other compara- 
tive trifles, they paid little heed to better things. They would 
object, as they were doing now, to a sufferer being healed during 
the hours of the Sabbath. They would challenge a man lighting 
a fire, or boiling a pot, or plucking an ear of wheat on the Day of 
Kest. 

You can imagine how very displeased they were, when they 
heard that Jesus had told this cripple to carry his bed through 
the streets on the Sabbath ! We are told they would have killed 
Him at once if they could. They had not forgotten His driving 
the buyers and sellers out of the Temple ; and His giving as a 
reason that that Temple was His own ; just as He now said that 
the Sabbath was His own : — " / am^ ' said He, " the Lord of the 
Sabbath-day.'''' ' I have a right to do on it whatever is good for 
the bodies or the souls of men,' 

Jesus seems to have been met by these angry Chief-Priests 
and Eabbis in one of the courts of the Temple, and called there 
to answer for this alleged daring outrage on the Sacred Day. He 
makes it the occasion of preaching, what we may call (next to His 
Sermon on the Mount, and on the Destruction of Jerusalem), the 
greatest and most powerful of His discourses. The sermon you 
can read for yourselves in the fifth chapter of St. John's Gospel. 
In it, as the Divine Son, He claims equal power, honour, and 
authority with the Divine Father. He proclaims Himself the 
Final Judge of the world ; — at whose Omnipotent word the very 
graves were to give up their dead. "We are not told what effect 
it produced on those who heard it. We may well believe that 



MERIDIA N BRIGHTNESS. 1 5 5 

if these Jewish Eulers said nothing, they must have felt much. 
As we read in the case of a similar assembly (Acts vii. 54), 
in mufSed rage they would " gnash upon Him with their teeth," 
and silently vow future vengeance. 

What, however, of the healed man ? He has followed the 
steps of his Divine Eestorer. It is pleasant to think that, after 
taking up his bed and leaving it at his own house, he went up 
with a glad and grateful heart to the Temple to render praise for 
his recovery. He was probably too poor to afford a costly offering, 
or indeed any offering at all, except " the fruit of his lips." He 
would " sacrifice the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and call upon the 
Name of the Lord." A whole lifetime had probably elapsed since 
he last gazed on the evening cloud of incense and heard the 
'Vesper hymn.' His heart would, doubtless, be touched witli these 
long-forgotten sights and sounds ; and Jesus, perhaps seeing his 
emotion, whispered to him a gracious word of warning — " Behold 
thou art made whole: sin no more lest a worse thing come unto 
theer 

The Saviour does not seem, on this occasion, to have remained 
at Jerusalem to be present at the great Feast of the Passover 
which was near at hand. He knew that a vast number of friendly 
people from the Lake would be there, who might be tempted to 
say resentful words to the Jewish rulers because of their rudeness 
to Sim. So, as He always loved peace, He resolved quietly to 
take His departure. Who knows but His secret visitor Nico- 
demus (who knew all about the rage of the Pharisees), would 
advise Him thus to leave the city ? If He remained, a riot might 
take place during the Feast, in which swords might be drawn, 
and stones thrown ; it might even be, people slain. But it was 
not by sword, or force, the Kingdom of God was to be spread. 

Accordingly, He directs His steps towards His old home at 
Nazareth. He seems to have reached it before the end of the 
week. 



XX. 

f^e is at i^a^arettj again. 

You may have seen, in these northern skies of ours, the bright 
sun of a bright summer day for a moment veiled or hidden by a 
passing cloud. It was so with the Sun of Eighteousness. He 
had now risen high in the firmament, with healing in His beams. 
But " earth-born clouds " are already floating across the heavens. 
One such we have just noted in the angry threats of the Pharisees 
in Jerusalem ; another, from a more unlooked-for quarter, now 
presents itself to view. 

I am sure you will be inclined to think and to say, ' Jesus 
will at least be happy once more at His own bright Nazareth 
home. There, He will be far from the jealousies of Jerusalem 
Jews. Old faces and friends will be around Him ! ' We can 
imagine Him walking along the well-known valley. It would 
now be, just as I saw it (before Easter), gay with flowers ; the 
patches of green grass clasping the white limestone rocks, the fig- 
trees clad in their tender green, and the almonds sprinkled with 
their rich blossom. 

There, too, rising on one of the heights, is the synagogue, within 
whose gates He used so often to worship — on whose familiar 
entrance, fruits, grapes, and flowers are rudely carved ; while the 
hyssop is spreading faster every year on its side-walls of unhewn 
stone. 

When a man who has performed some great deeds which have 
won him celebrity and renown (and perhaps made the world better 
and happier), returns to his native town, how proud his old 
fellow- citizens are to welcome him ! They have flags flying from 
their windows, and arches of flowers spanning the streets : his 
name is on every lip. The villagers of Nazareth will surely all 
be glad to welcome Jesus back again. They will pleasantly re- 



member, in former years, how very good and loving He was. 
They will be proud of Him, too ; for they must have heard of His 
fame : about His turning water into wine at Cana, as well as 
other wonderful works. They must have learned also that He 
had gathered a number of disciples around Him, and was claiming 
to be none other than the promised Messiah. Perhaps there 
were some, who never entered the synagogue at other times, who 
had gone on the first Sabbath after He arrived, in hopes He 
might make some display of His miraculous power. 

How familiar the village sanctuary looks to Him ! The old 
alms-box at the door, into which He was wont, even in boyhood, 
to drop His little offering for God's poor. Its high platform and 
wooden desk brightly painted in red and blue ; the sacred ark 
with silken veil behind, screening in its shelves the parchment 
rolls He had so often heard read, and at other times had so often 
seen carried round to be kissed or reverently touched by the 
worshippers, young and old! Standing, too, by themselves, are the 
empty cups for the wine, which on Sabbath eve He had, doubtless, 
often put to His own lips. There also is the bronze lamp of 
olive oil (ner tamid) always kept burning ; and the eight-branched 
candlestick, which He was wont to see lighted on the gTeat 
festivals of the year ; near it is the chest filled with the simple 
musical instruments used on these special occasions. And yon 
Eabbi, too, — the old man on a high seat at the upper end, — 
he knows the young Prophet well. He remembers Him as the 
youth who was wont to come to the sacred services so regularly 
with Joseph : — sometimes bringing His lamp the previous evening 
to commence the sacred devotions of the week. He remembers 
how they used to sit together, while His mother Mary went be- 
side the other women behind the lattice. He may have even 
first taught Him, as a boy, to read the Hebrew scroll He is about 
to take into His hand. Yes, and how glad will the worshippers 
be when they see Him not only entering their Tabernacle, but 
making His way straight to the raised platform close to the 
brazen candlestick. 

How impressive for us to think of Him, whom we have well 



called in these pages, " Brighter than the Sun," joining in the 
opening ' Benediction ' of the ' Shema.' Thousands on thousands 
of lips were repeating it that same moment in every synagogue 
throughout the land. It was a thanksgiving for Light, and 
specially for the lightg or luminaries of the outer creation, — dim 
reflections of Himself, the One glorious Light of Life. " Blessed 
be Thou, Lord, King of the world, who formest the Light and 
Greatest the darkness ; who maketh peace and createth everything ; 
who in mercy givest Light to the earth and to those who dwell 
upon it, and in Thy goodness day by day and every day renewest 
the works of creation. Blessed be the Lord our God for the glory 
of His handiwork and for the Light-giving Lights which He 
has made for His praise. Selah ! — " Blessed be the Lord our God 
who hath formed the Lights." ^ 

Do you suppose " Jesus of Nazareth " is much altered from 
what He used to be ? 

No. There is no change in His dress or appearance. He has 
neither on a white priestly garment — nor wears a royal robe : 
nor, on the other hand, is He clad like John the Baptist in a hide 
of camel's hair. He looks very much the same as they had 
known Hmi for many years. 

You can think of Him unroUing the parchment which has 
been taken out of the sacred chest, and reading the Haphtorah ; 
that is, the section or lesson out of the Prophets for that day. 
The portion, either appointed or specially selected by Him, con- 
tained those beautiful verses about the Spirit of the Lord 
anointing Him to speak words of kindness and comfort to the 
meek and poor, the lowly and broken-hearted. 

" The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me ; 
Because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek ; 
He hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, 
To proclaim liberty to the captives, 
And the opening of the prison to them that are bound; 

^ These various particulars liave been gleaned from a number of reliable 
authorities. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 159 



To 'proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, 

And the day of vengeance of our God ; 

To comfort all that mourn." — Isa. Ixi. i, 2. 

After He had read these verses, and returned the roll to the 
officer who had charge of the ark, " He sat clown " (always His 
habit in teaching), and then began to address the little assembly. 
Any one was allowed thus to speak who felt inclined to do so. 

He preached just as is done in our churches still. He gave 
a short discourse on the portion of Sacred Scripture read. The 
Jews called the address "Derash." 

The congregation, unlike an English one, rose when He was 
speaking. You can imagine Him looking round with gleaming 
eye on those who were so familiar and so dear to Him. The 
sweet tones of the speaker's voice at once arrest the ears of all 
present. Every eye is for a time fixed steadily upon Him. ISTo 
wonder ; for He tells them the amazing truth, " This day is this 
Scripture fulfilled in your ears ! " 

What did He mean by this ? 

That it is of Himself the Great Prophet spoke, many centuries 
before : that it is He who had come to open the eyes that are 
blind with sin, and to release the souls that are bound with worse 
than iron chains, and to proclaim with better than silver trumpets 
the true year of liberty — what the Jews called their Jubilee. 

So far all was well. But by-and-by their earnest gaze begins 
to lessen : — gradually it turns into wrath and anger. They rose 
up vehemently against Him. Their eyes flash fire. Eirst there 
would be a buzz and whispers ; then they would make a shuffling 
noise, similar to what I have told you I heard on the mention of 
Haman's name at the Eeast of Purim. They could not bear to 
hear Him calling Himself the Anointed One ! What ! the Youth 
they used to see sitting by His bench in their own streets, or 
carrying His mother's pitchers from the weR : — Who, when He 
came before to the synagogue, used never to sit on the chief seats 
near the ark, but was content with the rough pews of wood 
among the humblest villagers ! Is He now to be allowed to say 
that He is the Son of King David — the Messiah of the nation ? 



i6o BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

that Messiah whom thej expected to sit on a glorious throne, 
and to free them from the fierce Eomans ! 

No, no ; they can listen to Him no longer. 

They said one to another with scorn, " Is not this Joseph's 
Son ? " He is not even a famous Teacher or Eabbi imbued with 
learning. Whence could He know letters ? What right has He 
to call Himself Great ? If He be Messiah, there would surely 
be signs both in heaven and in earth to betoken His majesty. 
But where is the crown upon His head ? Where are the chariot 
and horses of the conqueror ? Who are His attendants ? Truly, 
they are not like Solomon's bodyguard, with their capes of Tyrian 
purple, and their hair covered with golden dust. They are only 
rough-speaking fishermen from the Lake-side ! 

Most displeased of all are these people of Nazareth, because 
He has done one wonderful thing in Cana, and another at 
Capernaum, and done nothing wonderful in His own early home. 
They said, " If He has really power to change water into the juice 
of the grape ; — still more, if He has power to rebuke disease and 
sickness ; if He can do a mighty work at a marriage-feast, and 
for a Jewish nobleman, and for a poor cripple, why will He not 
show something astounding in His own village and synagogue ? 
Let Him perform some miracle or magical art before our own 
eyes, and then we shall believe Him." 

He told them that He had a higher calling than merely to 
work miracles in His native village. That, as the Light of the 
WORLD, His " healing beams " were intended for heathen lands as 
well as for Palestine. He reminds them of God's kindness by 
the hands of the prophets Elijah and Elislia to the poor woman 
at Sidon, and to the leper warrior at Damascus, both of whom 
were Gentiles. 

Their rage, upon this reference, knew no bounds. They could 
not deny the truth of both these stories of grace, because their 
own Bibles contained them. But they could not bear the thought 
of this Young Teacher recalling them to mind, and wishing 
them to believe that God would still give His blessing to the 
outside heathen : they would not tolerate His classing the Hebrew 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. i6r 

children with the Gentile " dogs." Their wrath breaks out like a 
flash of lightning from a black cloud. Anew they yelled, and 
shouted, and uttered their curses. They would not allow so 
false a Jew, as they thought Jesus was, to be a moment longer 
inside their sanctuary. 

JS'or was this all. They say to one another, He is unfit to 
live. Eising like one man, they drag Him in their mad passion 
from the place of worship. They hurry Him to a rock close to 
where the synagogue was, and threaten to hurl Him down its 
face. The anger of the Pharisees at their Feasts of Purim 
could be nothing to that of those enraged villagers. They would 
have carried out their base purpose, too, had Jesus been no more 
than man. What was one against so many ? Alas for these un- 
grateful neighbours and townsmen ! They had heard read that 
very morning, since the synagogue service began, the remark- 
able words of the daily prayer — " Blessed he Thou, Jehovah, who 
restoreth Sis ShecJiinah to Zion." The true Cloud of Glory was 
covering their Ark and Mercy-seat. But " this was their con- 
demnation, they loved the darkness rather than the Light, be- 
cause their deeds were evil." 

There were, however, unseen legions of Angels round about 
Christ to protect Him from danger. His Heavenly Father would 
not suffer them to hurt Him. Accordingly, in some way, of 
wliich we are not told. He contrived to escape from the fierce 
and furious crowd ; and while they were still gathered wrangling 
and threatening, He had passed unseen through the midst of 
them, and all alone pursued His way to the Lake. 

I do not think, after this, Jesus ever went back to Nazareth 
again. In many ways this would be sad to His loving heart, as 
those know well who are obliged to leave the happy home of their 
childhood never more to see it. ISTazareth was the spot where 
He first was conscious of an earthly father's care and a mother's 
love, where He had first seen the buds of early spring and the 
bright stars in the sky : above all, where the thoughts of the 
Great Father in Heaven first dawned upon Him, and of His own 
great work to save the world. These reflections may have been 

L 



1 62 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

in His mind now, as He crossed the ridge to the wild upland 
plain. 

If Jesus was grieved at the conduct of the Jews in Jerusalem, 
sadder still, I think, He must have been at the savage rage of 
His own familiar friends at Nazareth. But He knew well that 
He had far more awful trials than these in store. So, looking 
to His Father-God, and remembering the many kiad and loving 
hearts waiting to receive Him in the fishermen's hamlets at Gen- 
nesaret, He never pauses till He has reached its hot and sultry 



He seems to have taken up His abode — His new second 
home — in the house of Peter. 



XXL 

f^e traclies at tlje ILajite anti calls Jour ©isciplrs. 

The beautiful words which the prophet Isaiah spake seven 
hundred years before, regarding " the land of Zabulon and the 
land of Nephthalim, — Galilee of the Gentiles" (Matt. iv. 15, 16), 
are now to be fulfilled. 

They have a special meaning in connection with the name 
given to this volume — " The people which sat in darkness saw 
Great Light, and to them which sat in the region and shadow of 
death Light is sprung up." Dark, half-heathen Galilee, and that 
portion of it especially " by the way of the sea " (that is, which lies 
by the Lake-side), is to have days and weeks and months of 
BRIGHTNESS and blessing it never knew before. 

Jerusalem, nigh to which He was born, had rejected Jesus ; 
JSTazareth, in which He had been brought up, had rejected and 
threatened to kill Him, He now turns His steps to the shores 
of this great inland sea, to speak " the glad tidings " to its 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 163 

peasants and fishermen. Invading armies from. Mneveh, Baby- 
lon, and Damascus, had wasted all these lands in former days. 
The Prince of Peace was now to make them rejoice and blossom 
as the rose. 

The cure of the nobleman's sick boy at Capernaum had spread 
the fame of Jesus far and wide. The people living on the banks 
of the Lake were anxious to see for themselves this Young Pro- 
phet of ISTazareth. They would like, too, to hear some of the 
gracious and kind words which came out of His lips. 

So, when He came to live among them for a time, we are told 
they eagerly assembled around Him " to hear the tvord of God." 
A great many among these would likely be plain working people. 
You have seen, I dare say, in our own towns, the labouring men 
pouring out at their breakfast or dinner hours from their work- 
shops ; and, if a crowd be collected on the street or road, they 
stop for a few moments to know what is going on. So may it 
have been with most of those who now gathered round the Great 
Teacher. They would most probably do so as they went either 
to or from the tanyards or shipyards, the potteries or dye-works, 
the fields and vineyards around. These tradesmen and fisher- 
men of Lower Galilee were open and simple-minded, ready to 
listen to a religious instructor. 

An interesting Gospel picture of these teachings of Jesus is 
now brought before us. 

Four fishermen, Peter and Andrew, James and John, had been 
out all night with their boats. Tired and wearied they had just 
come to shore. Two of them were on the beach mending the 
broken parts of their nets ; the other two were washing theirs, a 
little way out from the land, ridding them of the rack and weed 
they had collected as they were trailed through the water. 

At that moment their Master appears. A crowd is following 
behind Him, which speedily becomes larger. The people are 
"pressing upon Him," as all crowds do, and jostling one another 
as they try to get as near to Jesus as they can. 

He says to Peter, " Will you push ashore and let Me into your 



1 64 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

boat, that I may go out a little way, and speak to the multitude 
from it ? " 

Peter, as you know already, loved Jesus ; so he was only too 
glad to do the bidding of his Master. 

You can think, then, of the meek and lowly Saviour seated in 
Peter's boat, the crowd occupying the pebbly strand close by, or 
reclining in rows on the green turf, which was laved by the little 
waves of the Lake. There are shelves of smooth rock still to be 
seen in that very place. Some may have been seated on these 
also. The people gladly listened. It must have been pleasant 
to Jesus having such quiet and attentive hearers, after the cruel 
way He had been treated at Nazareth. 

After He had finished speaking, and had Himself come on 
shore. He told Peter and his fellow-fishermen to push the boat 
out again from the bank, and let down their nets. Peter was 
always ready (sometimes too ready) with a reply. He said, 
* It was no use to do so, for they had toiled the whole night — the 
time when fish were most easily caught — and they had not yet 
got a single one.' But he instantly thought to himself, ' Why 
should I not do what the Master bids me ? ' and then he adds, 
" Lord, at Thy word (because Thou tellest me to do so), / shall let 
down the net." 

So he took his oars, and made a circuit near the shore ; the net 
dropping into the water from the back of his boat. Such a vast 
number of fish were taken, that the nets could not bear the 
strain. When they tried to pull them, they began to break. 
The fish were piled up on the little vessels, and the load was so 
great that even the boats were in danger of sinking. 

This is what is known as the miracle of The draught of Fishes. 
It took place just before Jesus called His first four disciples. 
He wished to show these humble fishermen by this outward act, 
the new labours that were in store for them. He said to them, 
" Folloiv Me, and I will make you fishers of men." 

What did He mean by this ? 

It was that they were henceforth to be engaged in catching 
immortal souls ; that they were to help Him in His great work 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 165 

of saving men. They were to let down the Gospel net in the 
world's wide sea of death, and bring very many alive to the 
shores of life. 

They had, till this time, followed Him as friends and disciples. 
They were now, or at least very soon, to become His Apostles ; 
— to forsake nets, and boats, and home comforts — to " leave all 
and follow Him." 

It would be hard for them, — and perhaps all the harder at 
that moment, to do this, — just when these heaps of captured fish, 
with their silvery scales, were lying before them ; giving promise 
of money and profit they had never reaped before. For you must 
bear in mind that these simple boatmen were as yet untutored in 
the high things of the kingdom. They were in the lowest form 
in the school of Christ. They had as yet none of the deep 
spiritual insight they afterwards came to have. But ignorant and 
simple-minded as they were, it shows they were strong in their 
love and attachment to Jesus. They did not hesitate for a 
moment to obey His summons. We may be very sure of this, 
that they never repented giving up their pleasant sea-side home, 
and pleasant eartHy calling, to become the servants and friends 
of so gracious and loving a Master. 



XXII. 

Ilobj fie spentis a ^aiiiiatl) at tfje iLaJte* 

On the next Sabbath Jesus goes to " the White Synagogue " in 
Capernaum, where the people of the town were gathered for 
worship ; ju.st as in the cities and villages of Britain congrega- 
tions assemble on Simday morning. 

We have strong grounds for supposing that the site of Caper- 



1 66 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

naum is at a place now called " Tel Hum." If this supposition 
be correct, the ruins are very sad and mournful. When there 
some years ago, we could only reach them by making our way, as 
best we could, through a jungle of tall reeds and thistles. 
Among the vast heap, however, are a few blocks of stone, to 
which I may afterwards more particularly refer, and which seem 
to have belonged to the synagogue of the place. It was probably, 
indeed, the very building which had been presented to the town 
by one we shall come by and by to speak about — " the Good 
Centurion," of whom the Jews said, ''He loveth our nation, and 
hath built us a synagogue." Be this, however, as it may, it is at 
all events to the synagogue of Capernaum that Jesus now resorts. 
Who knows but, perhaps, " the Good Centurion " may have him- 
self been present. Perhaps, too, the nobleman with his healed 
son. Jairus, of whom we shall hear presently, may have been 
there also, as " a chief ruler," occupying one of the central high 
seats ; while behind the screen or curtain in the gallery, his little 
daughter, whom the word of Jesus was so soon to raise to life, 
may have been seated as a worshipper. 

As Jesus is there preaching to the great crowd of eager and 
attentive listeners, a voice is suddenly heard in the middle of the 
congregation. It is not a common voice. It is a wild shriek or 
scream, which startles all present. " Zet me alone" says a raving- 
demoniac, as if half afraid to come near the Pure and Holy Being 
whom he hears speaking. Then he falls down in the middle 
of the synagogue, still crymg aloud, wliile the people crowd round 
him. 

The voice, indeed, is not the man's own. It is that of an evil 
spirit which is rending and tearing him. 

The Divine Speaker, with a look and a command, casts this 
evil spirit out. The poor victim, it had so long tormented, stood 
up calm and peaceful and happy ; — restored at once to his right 
mmd. Jesus, truly, in the best sense of the word, had given 
" liberty to the captive, and the opening of the prison to them that 
were bound." 

The congregation, on dispersing, carried the news of what had 



taken place wherever they went. So that, alike among poor 
homes and in great houses, the reputation of the Wonder Worker 
still farther spread. 

The cure of the demoniac was not the only miracle performed 
by Jesus that day. At this season of the year a good many 
people at the Lake-side were afflicted with fever. Among these 
was the mother of Peter's wife. She must have been very ill ; 
for it is called " a great fever." Those who have lived recently 
in the Holy Land tell us that there are still frequent cases of 
the same complaint round the Lake in the spring and autumn 
months. Jesus came straight from the synagogue to Simon's 
house. It was likely about midday, after the forenoon service 
was over, when the Jewish dinner and the siesta or ' rest at noon ' 
took place. The Gracious Healer agaia shows His power over 
the sick in the case of this sufferer. He stood over her, touched 
her with His hand, and " rebuked the fever." She gets instantly 
so well that she is able at once to go about the house. All other 
patients would have been weak and sickly for some time after. 
But the omnipotent word of Jesus made her able to resume her 
home duties just as if she had never been bedridden. So com- 
plete is the restoration, that she makes the meal ready for the 
Divine Guest and His followers, and waits upon them. 

This, as well as the miracle in the synagogue, was reported 
all over the town. You have already seen how very strict the 
Jews were about the keeping of the Sabbath. They would not 
even permit their sick to be healed during its sacred hours. But 
as the holy day ended at six o'clock in the evening, whenever 
they saw the sun setting, numbers afflicted with disease were 
brought from every quarter of the city round the door of Peter's 
dwelling. It must have been a strange sight, in the beautiful 
calm of twilight, to see such a train of misery and distress ; some 
bedridden, some cripples, some palsied, some fevered ; some lepers, 
perhaps, on the outskirts of the crowd, not allowed to approach 
nearer, known by their hideous wail afar off ; some possessed with 
demons, howling their wild cries. 

The Divine Eedeemer, however, makes the place another 



1 68 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Bethesda — another ' House of Mercy/ and " He heals them all." 
One He gently touches ; to another He gently speaks ; to another 
a look is enough. The twilight is very short in these countries ; 
much shorter than with us. Indeed, no sooner would the sun 
go down behind the hill of Hattin, than these crowds of diseased 
and sick would be left to line the dark streets of Capernaum. But 
the stars, and perhaps the moonlight, would guide the steps of 
the Great Physcian from suJEferer to sufferer and from couch to 
couch; and if neither stars nor moon, torches nor candle were 
there, every woe- worn face would be clearly seen by Him, from 
whom the darkness cannot hide but the night shineth as the 
day, to whom the darkness and the light are both alike. 

Oh, how many homes would thus be made glad on the Lake- 
side ! Here a man, known but yesterday to his neighbours as 
blind, is seen coming along the highway ; but he is blind no more : 
he needs no longer to be led — his sight is restored. Here, one 
who a few hours ago was a limping cripple, is observed walking 
without his crutches, for his limbs have been made strong. Here, 
a sickly boy, who in the morning was dying of fever, has the 
smile of health on his lips as he trudges by his happy mother's 
side. Here, one who left his house dumb, is now speaking to the 
wondering crowd of Him who had bestowed on him the gift of 
speech. Here is another : she is bowed down with the saddest 
of afflictions : she has laid her husband and her children in the 
grave : she has no eartlily friend left. But He who had healed 
the bodies of others, has healed too her broken heart. With His 
kind and comforting words He has dried her tears, and said unto 
her " Weep not." 

How could these things fail to make the power of Jesus 
known and marvelled at, all round the country, and specially in 
Capernaum ? His name would be in every house and on every 
lip. The next morning's sun had risen on a healed city, after a 
Sabbath never to be forgotten. 

Though one name by which Christ is called is " the Man of 
Sorroios" that Sabbath must surely have been among the occasions 
when " He rejoiced in spirit." Jesus was always glad when doing 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 169 

good; maMng people tappy, and lifting the heavy load off 
burdened hearts. He had surely done so that day with His 
works of mercy, and His words of love. 



XXIII. 

He gops up a mountatn, anti afterixfartis cureg a leper* 

Aftee these long hours of constant toil how much Jesus would 
need a night of rest ! 

But when the heart has been made happy with anything during 
the day, it is not easy to close the eyes in slumber. After all 
the exciting events I have described, the Gracious Healer may 
have tried in vain to go to sleep and could not. At all events 
He left His couch ; " Se rose" we are told, " a great xohile lefore 
day." 

The streets of Capernaum were at that early hour quiet and 
silent. He could hear nothing but the ripple of the waves on 
the Lake, or the splash of the fisherman's oars. And when He 
got outside th^ gates and began to climb the footpath up the 
hillside, no sound would break on the lonely mountains around, 
save, perhaps, the night-cry of the jackal, answered at a greater 
distance by the baying of the wolf. 

He had strong reason, however, for rising thus early. He 
wished to ascend one of the hills which surround the Lake, in 
order that He might hold communion with His Heavenly Father. 
Jesus did not require to pray. Yet how He loved it ! Early 
this same morning He would perhaps plead for the souls of those 
whose bodies He had so lately healed. I think I am not wrong in 
saying He would pray for all the world He came to save. Yes, 
young reader, we may believe He would pray, as He knelt on the 
green grass of that Galilee mountain, for you and for me. In that 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



quiet and peaceful hour of devotion, too, He would receive strength 
for His own work and duties. An old writer calls prayer " a 
Golden Key to open the gates of the morning." Jesus used that 
golden key now. It is a beautiful thought, that when the people 
of the towns and villages beneath were still sunk in sleep, this 
Great High -Priest had gone up to the silent Temple of Nature, 
and unlocked with His golden key the Gates of Prayer ! 

He had not told His disciples and friends where He was going ; 
but on discovering where He was, they climbed after Him to His 
retreat. We might have thought He would perhaps have resented 
their thus disturbing His hour of rest and prayer ; but uttering 
no word of reproach or displeasure, He at once descends with 
them to the Lake-side ; only, instead of returning to Capernaum, 
He prefers going among some of the other villages and cities 
round about — " healing all manner of sichiess and all manner of 
disease among the ^people." 

The shores and the hiUsides were so crowded with houses and 
hamlets, olive-yards and farm-yards, that Jesus would be always 
busy. The Jewish historian tells us there were two hundred 
and four cities and villages in Galilee alone, and most of these 
were on the Lake. 

Among other suppliants for help, there is one who specially 
attracts our attention and rouses our sympathy. The case is in 
every respect dreadful and repulsive. 

We have many diseases in our own country, but I do not 
think we have such a loathsome one as leprosy. Terrible in itself, 
it is one of those ailments which, when it once takes possession of 
the body, is incurable by human means ; — those suffering from it 
never getting better — always getting worse. There are rows of 
lepers to this day who sit or crouch near one of the gates of 
Jerusalem, showing their sores to the passers-by. Their wasted 
fingers stretched out for alms, their croaking voices, swollen 
throats, and suffering look, I never can forget. 

It was one of these wretched beings Jesus now met. 

The poor miserable object, with torn dress, and head bare, fell 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 171 

down upon Ms face and cried, " Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst 
mahe me clean" 

He may have heard how Jesus had cured others, he would say 
to himself, " Oh ! is it not possible He may cure me t Yet how 
can I get at Him ; how can I dare venture to come near to Him, 
and cast myself at His feet." 

Well he might say so — for, as I recently told you, any leper 
among the Jews was not only forbiddeji to go near his fellow-men, 
but had to warn them away with his piteous cry " Unclean ! Un- 
clean I " It was a sad life ; rather it was a living death. Thmk 
how would you feel to be cut off from ever seeing your brothers 
or sisters or friends ? away from human kindness — all people you 
meet looking strangely upon you ? Amid these crowds, and 
crowded cities, the leper was as lonely as if the desert were his 
home. He heard, spring after spring, the joyous voices of young 
and old going up to Jerusalem, at the season of the Passover; — 
but there was no place for him in these glad companies — " the 
multitude that kept holiday." He could only w^eep silent tears 
when he " remembered Zion." Yes — I am quite sure, there were 
no more deplorable outcasts in all Galilee than these, one of whom 
now cries to Jesus for help ; and who knew well, too, that there 
was no other physician in the world who could heal him, if 
this Prophet of Nazareth failed to do so. It was an appeal to 
one " Beightee than the Sun " to dispel the outermost darhiess 
of human misery and despair ! 

Can you not picture the crowd opening up and making a broad 
lane for the poor suppliant, who was himself in terror lest he 
might touch them and infect them with his own awful disease ? 

You ask ' what will Jesus do ? will He not be afraid like the 
others of coming close to all this foulness and misery ? ' 

Not so. The Meek and Gentle, the Pure and the Holy One 
touches with His hand the impure and unholy and defiled. He 
speaks back the very words of the leper's earnest prayer, " / u^ill, 
te thou clean." 

Instantly he was made whole. " This 'poor man cried, and the 
Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his trouUes." 



172 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

XXIY. 

f^e Jcalg a man stcft of t!)e palsri, anti calls anotljer tiisciplr. 

The next Sabbath, Jesus came back once more to Capernaum, 

Crowds came flocking round the house where He was ; they 
were greater than ever. Many among these had doubtless been 
with Him during the week, and had beheld His mighty works. 

See four men coming, carrying in a mat or quilt some living 
burden ! It is evidently a new case for the kind and merciful 
Healer. 

These are bearing a man, ill of the palsy, and are very desirous 
of approaching close to where Jesus was. The sufferer himself, 
we gather from the narrative, seems to have felt that he was a 
great sinner, and needed his soul to be healed as much as his 
body. He got four kind friends willing to render to him needed 
help. The press was so great that the doorway was blocked up. 
You can imagine the four sympathising men calling out to the 
crowd to make way and let them pass in. They soon see, how- 
ever, that the attempt is hopeless. They are obliged to devise 
some other plan of getting through the throng. What do you 
think it is ? 

They take bim first up the outside stair, and then let him down 
to the inner court where Jesus was. By removing some tiles 
or planks from the top of the roof they were able to do so. The 
cripple is gently lowered till he finds himself placed by the side 
of the Great Physician. 

Oh, how kind Jesus always was and always is ! We might 
have thought He would possibly not have liked to be thus dis- 
turbed in the midst of His preaching ; — taking off the attention 
of His hearers as the noise was going on above Him. But once 
more He " pleased not Himself." He never refused to perform an 
act of pity and mercy on those stricken with sin or suffering. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 1 7 3 

The Saviour greatly commended their faith. But before curing 
the man of the palsy, He wished to perform the greater and more 
urgent cure. He said — " Bon, thy sins are forgiven thee!' 

The Pharisees and Scribes present were very angry at this. 
There was a frown upon their brows as they shouted out, " Who 
can forgive sins, hut God only ? " 

Jesus wished to show that He was God. In order to prove 
His Deity and that He had " power to forgive sins," He proceeded 
next to heal the man's body as well as his soul. The cure of the 
soul, as I have just said, was by far the greater of the two ; but 
He knew that the people would be more impressed when He 
added the miracle of bodily healing. " Arise," He said, " take up 
thy couch, and go into thine house." 

The cured man sprang to his feet, took up his bed (that is the 
rug or carpet on which he lay), and, putting it on his shoulder, 
walked along quite restored through the wondering crowd. They 
willingly made way for him now. The words were whispered 
from ear to ear, " We have seen strange things to-day." 

The cripple went straight to his home " praising God ; " and 
many others who witnessed the miracle had a similar " new song 
put into their lips." 

That same Sabbath, Jesus called another disciple, who was 
afterwards to be well known. It was Matthew, who wrote the 
Gospel in the Bible which bears his name, and wliich forms the 
first portion of the New Testament. 

Matthew was " a Publican." The Publicans were a class very 
much hated. Their occupation was to collect the taxes : — taxes 
of all kinds ; — on grain and cattle, on fruit oil and wine : — 
tolls on the highways and bridges, dues at the seaports. They 
were generally regarded as greedy and grasping and cheating. 
They ground down the population by compelling them to pay this 
money to the Eoman Government, but a great part of it they took 
to themselves, and thus came to be rich in a dishonest way. They 
were mostly Jews by birth; but I need not say it was only the vilest 
among the people who would agree to accept the office of Pub- 



174 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

lican. They were classed with murderers and robbers. Yon may, 
perhaps, remember that the hardest thing a prond Pharisee could 
say was, " God, I thank Thee that I am not as this Publican." 

Yet even from this worst class of Israelites — men who had lost 
character, or rather who had no character to lose — Jesus is to 
choose one of His Apostles. He wishes to show what His grace 
can do in changing the heart and life, making those who were 
most selfish and debased to be generous and good and kind to all 
around them. 

This man, who seems to have been known when he was a tax- 
gatherer by the name of Levi, was sitting at his gate or toll-bar 
at the sea-side, collecting the tribute at the port of Capernaum ; 
— perhaps the dues charged on the fish caught in the Lake, and 
on the wood that was floated on rafts from its north and east 
sides. The Gracious Prophet of Galilee said to him, " Follow 
me!* 

You will, perhaps, ask, was this the first time Matthew had 
seen Jesus ? 

I cannot tell. But I do not suppose it was. I think it likely 
he may have listened to one or more of His discourses. Some 
words from the lips of his future Lord may have gone like an 
arrow to his heart and made him ashamed of his wicked gains 
and love of money. They may have roused his sleeping con- 
science, and made him very unhappy as he continued at a trade 
which had so many temptations to evil. 

When the Divine Saviour now comes to him and addresses 
him personally, he resolves in a moment to obey the invitation. 
" He left all and followed Jesus." 

What do you think was implied in that " all " ? 

All the bright future of his gains ; — his bags of gold and heaps 
of silver — and successful roguery. He sees the gracious Pace — 
he hears the gracious Word ; and though, in days to come, his 
will be a homelier meal, a humbler dwelling, and a more despised 
Master than Csesar, — yet to be with Jesus as disciple, is better to 
him than thousands of gold and silver. 

Oh ! what self-denial ! willingly leaving everything he had, 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 



175 



that he might be the follower of Him who " had not where to 
lay His head ! " 

A well-known Christian poet, speaking of this very scene, thus 
describes the rays of blessing sent to his darkened soul by Him 
who is Beightee than the Sun — 

" These gracious words shed gladsome light 

On Mammon's gloomiest cells, 
As on some city's cheerless night 

The tide of sunrise swells, 
Till tower, and dome, and bridgeway proud 
Are mantled with a golden cloud." 

Do you suppose Matthew ever was sorry at the resolution he 
made ? No : I think even at the very moment when he was locking 
the door of his custom-house, and leaving it for ever, he could say, 
as he felt that ' golden cloud' mantling him, — " Thou hast put glad- 
ness into my heart, more than in the time that their corn and their 
wine increased." He whose service he now entered, would seem 
to have changed the name of His new disciple from Levi to 
Matthew, which means " the Gift of God." Would not Jesus in 
a better way make up for all his losses, by bestowing upon him 
the riches of His own love and presence ? Would He not make 
true His own promise, — " Manifold more (spiritual) good things in 
the present life ; and in the world to come life everlasting " '? 

** Jesus, I my cross have taken, 
All to leaye and follow Thee ; 
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken, 
Thou from hence my all shalt be. 

" Perish every fond ambition, 

All I've sought, or hoped, or known, 
Yet how rich is my condition, 

God and Heaven are now my own ! '* 



XXV. 

He preacljes t!je Sermon on tlje jHount, antr appoints l^is 
S:toelbe Apostles;. 

There is a wild rugged valley wliich leads up from the fertile 
plain on the west of the Lake to that curious mountain with the 
double top I have already described — " the Horns of Hattin" 

We are not exactly told, but it is very likely it was on the 
summit of this grassy hill that Jesus preached what is called 
" THE Sermon on the Mount." I dare say all my young readers 
know it well, as it is generally one of the first parts of the Bible 
which is learnt by heart. 

There is a level piece of ground where the great crowd might 
easily have gathered as they listened to the Divine Teacher. 
We can think of them seated devoutly in this lofty Sanctuary of 
Nature amid the early breath of flowers ; — the fleecy clouds of 
moiiiing resting on the near mountains, and giant Hermon un- 
covering his head white with snow. 

Jesus had Himself spent the night in prayer in one of the quiet 
nooks around. And when the stars had vanished from the sky, 
and the golden sun was rising right before Him, making a molten 
pathway on the Lake, He came forth from His solitude to speak 
to the people. The assemblage seems to have been a very large 
one, gathered from all parts of the Holy Laud, for the fame of 
the Prophet of Nazareth was daily increasing. 

He sat down on the grass ; — the same position, you remember, 
He assumed when preaching in the synagogue. His disciples 
would be close around Him; while the dense multitude would 
sit in rows along the slope of the hill or on the level piece of 
ground I have just spoken of. 

I can well believe it was a very different sermon from what 
most of them expected to hear. Many came that morning think- 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 1 7 7 

mg that Jesus was about to declare Himself the King they had 
long looked for ; — the mighty Conqueror with " the sword girded 
on His thigh," His "right hand teaching Him terrible things." 
They may have expected Him to speak of His predicted greatness — 
of the future pomp and grandeur of His court, the favours He 
■^'ould bestow in the way of riches and honours on the children 
of Zion ; — the blessedness of those who were to sit down at the 
banquets He would give, in which the tables would be laden with 
angels' food ; jars of heavenly manna — gathered from the Gardens 
of Paradise. 

How startled must they have been to hear from His lips that 
those who were to be thus " llessed," were rather the poor, the 
humble, the gentle, the meek, the penitent, the mourner : that 
the greatest man in His Kingdom was not he who would subdue 
with the sword, and overcome his Eoman foe ; but he who would 
conquer by kindness ; who would love his enemy, and do good 
to the persons who hated him ! 

Among other encouraging and comforting things,— among other 
bright genial rays from One "Bkighter than the Sun," — He 
made a new revelation to them of the character of the Great God. 
It was different from that of any other religious Teacher or Pro- 
phet who had ever lived. He spake of Him as " a Father ; " — as 
THEIR Father ! He pointed to the little birds winging their flight 
from bush to bush on the mountain ; He pointed to the grass and 
flowers which formed the carpet at their feet, and He said — " If 
God takes care of these tiny winged-creatures ; — if He watches 
every spike of grass and every leaflet of these wild-flowers, how 
much more will He (as your Father) love you and watch over 
you and be kind to you." " Tou know what it is," He said, " to 
love your own children. It is a pleasure to you to give them 
gifts and presents. How much more pleased will the Great 
Parent above be, to give good things to the humblest and poorest 
member of His family ! He who does not even forget the 
despised sparrow, will not forget you — the children of 'i/our 
Father which is in Heaven ! " 

Oh what a joyful world this would be, if young and old would 

M 



only receive the comfort and strive to obey the words which the 
Great Teacher uttered that early morning on Mount Hattin ! 
" If ye Tcnow these things" He said at another time, " happy are ye 
if ye DO them." 

It would seem from the Gospel story, that before preaching that 
wonderful sermon, He had invited a chosen few up to the very 
summit of the hill and spoken to them alone, apart from the 
crowd. These were the twelve disciples to whom He now gave 
the name of " Apostles." 

It was a morning surely never to be forgotten by any of them, 
and never to be forgotten in the Christian Church. They were 
from that hour to be the Friends of Jesus ; constantly with Him ; 
with Him in His teachings in the streets and villages by day; 
with Him treading the hot and sultry highways of Judea and 
Galilee ; with Him when the shades of evening fell ; with Him 
when they sang their evening hymn or Psalm together ; with Him 
as they lay in slumber on the dewy grass with nothing but their 
rough garments to protect them from the cold ; with Him till the 
awful hour came when He was taken from them ; when " the 
Shepherd was to be smitten, and the sheep scattered." When He 
was no longer on earth, but had gone from them to His heavenly 
Throne, these privileged twelve were to go in His name first 
throughout the Holy Land, and then to different countries of the 
world, making known the Great Salvation. 

You will see from this, that in choosing His apostles, Jesus did 
not select wise and learned Eabbis and Scribes : men of note and 
influence like Nicodemus. He took them from the humbler 
ranks ; — those engaged in the honest callings and trades of com- 
mon life. He wished to show that there was nothing in the men 
who proclaimed the glad tidings. The power lay in the Divine 
truth they taught, and in the grace and might of the Holy Spirit. 

He loved all these twelve, only one of them at last failed 
Him and betrayed Him. That was Judas Isc.ariot (or Judas of 
the village of Kerioth). 

There were three of their number He loved best of all. When 
we have many choice friends we often pick out one or two among 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS, 179 

them whom we esteem the choicest. Jesus did the same. Peter, 
James, and John were those favoured with special tokens of His 
confidence — the innermost of the inner circle. 

"With all his faults, we shall find the Master had a marked re- 
gard for Peter. He liked him for his kindly, frank, affectionate, 
and at most times brave nature. This open-hearted Bethsaida 
fisherman you may remember not long ago said in addressing 
Jesus — " Depart from me ! " Instead, however, of assenting to 
his request, you see his Lord rather selects him as one who in the 
future is not to be parted, but on the contrary to be very near and 
very dear to Him. 

We know perhaps least about James. But he seems to have 
been a trustful and devoted follower too. Jesus called him 'a 
" child " or " son of thunder " ' from his zeal and boldness. He was 
an earthly relative of Jesus, probably, as I have previously said 
His cousin. He at last died a martyr's death for the sake of the 
Lord he loved. 

The last of the three was John. He too from his zeal was 
called 'a child of thunder.' But though he had much of the 
brave devoted hero in his nature, he had still more of tenderness 
and fervour and affection. We best know him by another name, 
le whom Jesus loved; " and, we may add, who loved 
We always think of John as likest his Lord in character. 
He was, I dare say, generally nearest Jesus in their journeys; — 
walking by His side ; he would often sit next Him at meals and 
perhaps lean upon His bosom as at the last meal they had 
together. In the old pictures of this Apostle there is always an 
eagle represented at his feet. It was the appropriate emblem 
surely of him who loved ever to soar " Sunward " in the heaven 
of love ; — who wrote again and again the three beautiful wordSj 
^^ God is Love." 



" Much he asked in loving wonder, 
On Thy bosom leaning, Lord ! 
In that ' secret place of thunder,' 
Answer kind didst Thou accord. 



i8o BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Latest he, the warfare leaving, 

Landed on the eternal shore ; 
And his witness we receiving 

Own Thee ' God' for evermore !"* 

It must have been a comforting thing for Jesus to have such 
tried and trusted friends always with Him to share His anxieties 
and sorrows, and to cheer Him in doing His Great Father's will. 
The grandest orbs of heaven have their moons and planets and 
sateUites. He who was " Brighter than the Sun " had these 
twelve attendant planets also, to circle around Him ; — and to 
reflect tlie Light of their all-glorious Centre. You remember 
what the most loved of the Apostles saw, long afterwards, in 
vision ? It was " that same Jesus " with a countenance " as the. 
Sun shineth in Ms strength," holding a cluster of Stars in His 
right hand (Eev. i. 1 6). 

The work of the Divine Teacher continued to prosper, and 
His nm-acles increased, as you will presently hear. 



XXVI. 

^t cures tf}f Centurion's <Sfrliaut 

That same afternoon on which the Master had appointed His 
twelve Apostles, He returned to Capernaum by the rocky dell 
through which He had passed the previous evening. The modern 
name of this secluded gorge is " The Valley of Doves" so called 
from the number of wild pigeons which have their haunts now, 
as they probably also had then, in its rugged cliffs. 

While on the way to " His own city " a number of Jews had 
come purposely to meet Jesus. They were the " Eulers of the 
Synagogue," and had evidently something urgent to say to Him. 

^ Keble's Miscellaneous Poems. 



They had been sent with a message from a Eoman soldier. 
This soldier was an officer of Herod's army stationed in the bar- 
racks at Capernaum, with a hundred men under his command. 
Though an alien by bnth, instead of hating the Jews as most 
Eomans did, "lie loved their nation." So much did he love it, 
that he had, as I told you sometime ago, built at his own expense 
a synagogue (" the " synagogue — the principal if not the only one 
of the town) in which his poorer fellow- citizens might worship 
the God of their Fathers. Gentile as he was, he had evidently 
been brought to own and worship the Jehovah of Israel, and to 
become by faith a child of Abraham. WhUe a good and brave 
soldier, he refused to plunge into all the vices of Herod's wicked 
court. He rendered unto Ccesar the things that were Csesar's : 
but he also rendered unto God the things that were God's. 

He was kind to all around him. More than one of the words 
which Jesus had spoken that morning on the green hill of 
Hattin,— were true in his case. "But love ye your enemies, and 
do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward 
shall he great, and, ye shall he the children of the Highest" 
(Luke vi. 35). "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall ohtain 
mercy." 

It was no kindness the centurion wished done by Jesus for 
himself; but he had a servant (a slave) — so St. Luke speaks of 
him — who was lying dangerously ill. He was racked with pain, 
" grievously tormented ; " indeed ready to die ; and his master 
begged earnestly that Jesus would come and heal him. 

It is beautiful to read the officer's feelings towards his dying 
slave. "Re was dear to him," or as that word rather means, " highly 
valued." There were not many Eoman soldiers I fear at that age 
of the world who would be thus kind to their slaves. These 
were often captives taken in war ; — or, if not so, they w^ere bought 
with money ; and their masters thought they had a right to do 
with them just as they liked ; in other words, they treated them 
very cruelly. But this good soldier thought and acted far other- 
wise. His dying slave had proved a faithful and trusty dependant 
tu past years. The master will now change places with him. 



Seated night and day at his couch he will be himself " as one 
that serveth." 

Jesus at once said to the Elders of the Synagogue "/ ivill go." 

He had nearly completed His purpose, and indeed, " was not 
now far from the house " when the good Centurion sent some of 
his other slaves with a new message. What was this ? 

It was to say to Jesus not to trouble coming all the way ; but 
just to " speak the word," as He had done in the case of the 
nobleman's son. 

" Tell Him," was the message, " I am not worthy to ask so 
Holy a Teacher to come into my house, or under my roof. But 
just as I say to the soldier in my ranks or to the slave in my 
tent, * go,' and the man does what I bid him ; so, if the Good 
Physician only gives the command, that will be quite enough ; 
my slave will be restored." 

What humility this was in an officer of the proudest nation of 
the world, to utter such things of a companion of fishermen ! 

Doubtless, however, he must have known well about Jesus. 
More than likely he had listened to some of His teachings, and 
seen some of His miracles. Indeed, in that very synagogue which 
he had built, he may have witnessed (as we conjectured in a 
former chapter) the Prophet of Nazareth casting out the evil 
spirit. He could scarcely fail to have heard about the miraculous 
draught of fishes, about the crowds that had been cured after the 
Sabbath-sunset, above all, about the restoration of the nobleman's 
son. Some of these wondrous works must have convinced him of 
Christ's ability to heal ; — that, lowly as in one sense Jesus was, 
He had mightier than " a band of soldiers under him ; " — was 
" Captain of the Lord's host " — He was possessed of a power greater 
far than that of Eoman legions or the Eoman Caesar. He wlio by 
a distant word could raise up a child — could surely in the same 
manner cure a poor bond-slave ! 

How pleased was the Divine Healer with the perfect trust 
reposed in Him by this half heathen ! He said, " / have not 
found, no, not in Israel, such true faith as in this Roman soldier ! " 
What a beautiful testimony ! No, not among learned Scribes and 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 183 

Doctors ; not among rigid Pharisees with their rites and ahns and 
fastings and prayers : no, not even in Peter, or James, or Jolm, 
or in any of the loved band He had so lately chosen. 

Tlio officer might well be prouder of these words than of all 
the orders of merit which glittered on his breast; or than if 
he had gained a hundred battles ; or been borne in a chariot of 
triumph from the Campus Martins to the Eoman Capitol. 

On the return of the servants to the house, they found the 
simple faith of the soldier suppliant duly rewarded. Their master 
was happily seated by the side of the lately dying but now 
revivmg man's couch. Jesus had spoken the needed word. The 
slave was healed. 

That Eoman officer and his servant suggested a new thought 
to the Divine Physician. Jesus took the opportunity of revealing 
Himself as the Great Sun whose light was to " lighten the 
Gentiles ; " " And I say unto you, that many shall come from the 
east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham,, and Isaac, and 
Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven" (Matt. viii. 11), 



XXVII. 
He goes to |^am anti raises t^t OTttfob3f*s Son to life* 

Next day, the Master along with His disciples and a multitude 
of followers seems to have gone much further away from the 
Lake. He crossed the. mountains by the foot of Tabor — the 
graceful cone I have before described wooded with thorn and 
oak — and came down on the great plain of Esdraelon, which has 
been well called the golden granary of Palestine. 

On the south-west slope of the hill " little Hermon," was a 
village called ISTain, reached by a steep and rocky pathway. The 
meaning of Nam is leauty, or pleasantness ; and I do not wonder 



at the name, from the accounts given by those who have visited 
it, and gazed on the hill- views all around, with the wide " strath" 
below. 

If Jesus left the Lake in early morning, He would reach Nain 
about sunset. I daresay the place itself must have been well j 
known to Him, as it was only a few miles distant from Nazaretli. ! 
.^ He drew near to it, He must have been very tired and weary. 

" His lips were j^ale 
With the noon's sultry heat. The beaded sweat 
Stood thickly on His brow ; and on the worn 
.And simple latchets of His sandals lay 
Thick the white dust of travel." 

As He came nigh the gate of the little town, He and those 
with Him see another crowd in the distance. The mournful wail 
heard at the hour of sunset — the time the Jews were wont to 
bury — tells them a funeral is approaching. 

A very sad procession it was. A mother had lost her dear 
and only son. His bier, or open coffin, was carried by some 
sympathising neighbours. There was no covering on the pale 
young face. The sun was setting in crimson clouds over the 
steeps of jVIount Carmel. But his " Sun" — the Sun of his valued 
life — "had gone down while it was yet day." 

With a breaking heart the fond parent was walking with other 
weeping female friends in front of the bier. Had it been in 
Judea, the hired minstrels, wailing their loud dirges, would have 
been foremost, and the true mourners would have been behind 
the dead. But a writer familiar with ancient Jewish customs 
informs us that it was different in Galilee. The mother preceded 
the company which was carrying her loved one to his rocky 
grave. 

She was a Widow, too. The present was not her first sorrow. 
She had no husband to share her grief. Perhaps it was not very 
long since she had borne another bier along the same sad road to 
the same burial-ground. In doing so, her only remaining comfort 
may have been the thought of her dear boy being still spared. She 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 1 8 S 

would, perhaps, picture to herself the blessing he would he to 
her— cheering her lonely hours and kissing away her tears. She 
would say to herself, like Lamech, "This same shall comfort 
us." 

But the Angel of Death had come and taken him, too, away. 
She was left all alone. The one surviving light of her dwelling 
was put out. Without husband, or daughter, or son, the future 
is very dark and dreary to her. A great number of the villagers 
followed the procession ; some wearing sackcloth, some with rent 
garments, in token of sorrow. They evidently wish to show how 
much they felt for her af&iction. 

But there were others, not far off, who felt even more 
deeply for her. Little did that crowd of sympathising friends 
think that in the band of weary, dust-covered wayfarers from 
Capernaum now meeting them, there was One who could say, as 
no other could, " Learn thy fatherless children ; I will preserve them, 
alive, and let thy widows trust in me." 

Jesus, the tender-hearted Saviour, when He saw the gathering 
of mourners ; above all, when He heard, loud above their wailing, 
the sobs of the chief mourner, " He had compassion on her." His 
own heart, so full of pity, was stirred when he noted the tears 
streaming from her eyes. -Instead, as would have been the usual 
custom for strangers in meeting such a funeral, of allowing the 
bier to pass, and then in silence to join the crowd. He who was 
sent to heal the broken-hearted went at once up to the foremost 
portion of the procession, and whispered into the widow's ear 
the words, "Weep not." 

" "Wake not, O mother, sounds of lamentation ! 
Weep not, widow ! weep not hopelessly ! 
Strong is Mine arm. — the Bringer of Salvation ; 
Strong is the Word of God to succour thee ! " ^ 

His disciples wonder what He is going to do. They have seen 



Him perform many wonderful things. They have seen Him heal 
the sick, cure the palsied, open blind eyes, and cause the dumb 
tongues to speak. They have seen at His word the leper cleansed 
and devils cast out. But here is something He has never done 
yet. Can he raise up the dead ? Can He put colour into those 
pale lips, and life into those dull closed eyes, and restore warmth 
to that chill body ? He who is Brighter than the Sun has in 
many ways brought to hundreds " healing in His beams ; " but 
can these beams pierce the gloomy abodes of Hades ? Can He 
call on the Angel of Death to come back with the departed soul 
from the world of Spirits ? 

Yes. He can. He is " the Lord of Life." He stopped the 
procession, touched the bier, and at one word of divine power, 
" Young man, arise" the dead youth "sat up and hegan to speak." 

Oh ! what must she have felt, when the well-known tones 
were again heard which she thought had been hushed for ever ! 

A shout of praise rose from the assembled crowd. They glori- 
fied God for sending so mighty a Prophet. All that He had 
previously done was nothing to this — unlocking the very gates 
of the grave, and making the dead to hear His voice and live. 
" God," they exclaimed, " hath visited His people." 

What becomes of the young man ? Like James and John, 
Peter and Matthew, does he from that hour leave all, and follow 
Jesus ? The Great Eestorer has given him the precious gift of 
life. May we not expect that Jesus will likely claim that life as 
His own, and enroll him forthwith among the number of his con- 
stant attendants ? 

No. That kind and gracious Saviour saw that the restored 
one's appropriate and aj)i')ointed place was rather to go home, 
and 'be a comfort to a widowed heart. He could serve and love 
Jesus as well in discharging the tender duties of a son, as in 
doing the work of an apostle. He could be a " follower " of 
Christ as truly in the quiet cottage at Nain, as in " mission 
labour" in the cities of Judea or at the Lake-side in Galilee. 
And, therefore, it is beautifully added : " He delivered him to his 
mother !" 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 187 

' March, march ! the pale procession swings 

With measured tramp and tread ; 
Wo. wo ! yon gaping sepulchre 
Is calling for the dead. 

And bitter is the wail that weeps 

The widow's only joy, 
And vows to leave her broken heart 

Beside her gallant boy. 



Halt, halt ! — a hand is on the bier, 
And life stirs in the shroud ; 

Rise, rise ! and view the Man divine 
Who wakes thee midst the crowd. 

Home, home ! to make that mother glad 

And recompense her tears ; 
Home, home ! to give that Saviour-God 

A second lease of years." ^ 



XXVIII. 
I^e gags feinU bjortis to a tooman b3!}0 ixras a sinner. 

Aftee the wonderful miracle at Nain, Jesus, still with a crowd 
of loving followers, visits tor some days the towns and villages 
round about, teaching all the time, and then going back to 
Capernaum. 

A touching Gospel story comes in about this period, although 
I cannot tell you exactly the place where the event described 
occurred. Probably it must have been somewhere on the Lake- 
side. 

It was in the house of a proud Pharisee, who bore a name 
that seemed common at that time, — Simon. 

^ Quoted in Dr. Hamilton's " Lessons from the Great Biography." 



Jesus was invited to take His forenoon meal with him. We 
are not informed how it was this Pharisee came to ask the 
Saviour to go to his house. I dare say it was no more than the 
mere wish to see and to speak with One whose fame had become 
so great. It is evident, at all events, that it was no feeling of 
love or reverence for Jesus, which made him open his door to the 
Proj)het of Galilee. 

You may remember I told you, when speaking of the marriage 
at Cana, that the first thing the Jews were in the habit of 
offering to guests coming into their dwellings, was water to 
refresh them ; — water for the hand's, and a bath for the feet, and 
I may add, in the houses of the rich, ointment to put on the hair 
and beard. There were servants waiting, ready to do all this as 
the visitors one by one entered. While the master of the house, 
as a mark of honour, kissed any very special guest on both cheeks. 

Simon may have known Jesus to have been a man of humble 
birth, who had for many years, in an obscure village, earned His 
bread by the sweat of His brow ; and did not think it worth his 
pains to offer Him any one of these tokens of respect. At all 
events, after takmg off His sandals at the door, and, as was the 
custom, leaving them there, Jesus went to His place ; not sitting 
as we do, but reclining on a couch or sofa on a level with the 
table. His bare feet, still covered with the dust of the day's 
journey, were turned towards the door. 

When He was thus reclining on one of these couches, a sinful 
woman, from some city on the Lake, stole behind Him unobserved, 
and crouched down at His feet. She, too, had, doubtless, listened 
to some of the teachings of Jesus. Perhaps she had heard some- 
thing from His lips that had come home to her guilty heart ; 
some word which had shown her the greatness of her sins, and 
led her to sigh after a holier and a better life. She may have, 
perhaps, been led to think of her happy home, when, in the 
innocence of childhood, she had played round her mother's knee ; 
and how she had now broken that mother's heart. No sheep in 
all the fold was such a truant and wanderer as she was. 

Sin always leads to suffering and sadness. She may have felt 



her sin like a heavy burden. Who knows but she may have 
listened, among many other gracious sayings from the mouth of 
Jesus, to that which told her where alone the heavy burden could 
be laid down and her soul find peace, " Come unto Me, all ye that 
labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Oh it was 
just what she needed, Eest for her weary spirit ; she could not 
find it in her guilty life, or among her false and cruel friends. 
She said to herself, ' This is what I have been long seeking for i 
I am a weary one — none but God knows how weary ! How I 
would like to go with my sore, torn, bleeding heart to that great 
and good Teacher ! But will He receive me ? Will He listen to 
the cry of such a lost one as I am ? There may be other weary 
ones to whom He may give rest ; but my burden I fear is too 
heavy, my sins are too crimson and scarlet.' 

' I will try,' she said, ' I will haste me where I know He is 
gone, — to Simon's house. I will make the attempt there to get 
behind His couch, watch some moment when I can plead with 
Him, and ask if I can be forgiven the past, and live a better life 
for the future. I have heard others speaking of Him as " the 
Friend of sinners," I will make proof of it for myself ! ' 

She does so at once. 

According to the Eastern custom, the doors leading into the 
dining-hall were open. She steals in with some other stragglers, 
and weeps out, close at His feet, the tale of her sorrow. Again 
and again, perhaps, she tries to speak, but she cannot. The 
words tremble on her lips, and the hot tears chase one another 
down her cheeks. She feels as if it were impossible for one so 
vile, so guilty, to talk to one so pure and spotless as Jesus. 

Yet what will a soul in earnest not do ? A new thought 
occurs to her. She cannot speak to Him ; but she will endeavour 
to tell Him by a silent act what she cannot do by words. 

In the language of the touching story, " She washes His feet 
with her tears." Then she takes the long tresses of her hair, 
which are falling over her brow and neck, and she wipes His 
feet with them. ISTor is this all. She puts her hand in her bosom, 
and brings out a little jar or bottle. The bottle was white ala- 



I90 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

baster, full of costly ointment. She opens it, and pours it on the 
feet she had just kissed. 

Oh how broken was her heart ! Mary of Bethany at another 
time anointed with her box of ointment Jesus' head. But this 
sin-stricken woman feels she is not worthy to do this. The 
fed of the Holy One are all she dare touch. 

Simon is very angry. In his proud soul he hated the very 
sight of this woman. If she had come to liis couch and touched 
his feet, either with her hair or with her tears, he would have 
spurned her away. He has been watching all that she has done, 
without any pity in his cold nature. What cares lie for these 
burning tears of grief and shame ? " It is plain," he says (not 
aloud, but to himself), " that this Jesus is not the divine Prophet 
He is said to be. Were it so. He would have known what a 
guilty woman that is who has been bold enough to come near 
Him. He would have turned at once from her defiling touch." 

The Meek and Lowly One saw what was working in the 
Pharisee's hard heart, and He told him a simple parable story. 
Having done so. He adds a rebuke. " Sim'on," He said, " do you 
see this woman ? I came a way-worn traveller into your house. 
I left My sandals outside your door, thinking, when I entered, 
that one of your servants would have had the bath ready as a 
token of welcome. 81ie has made up for the neglect with her 
tears : she has bathed my weary feet, and wiped them with her 
hair. You gave me no kiss, as one Jewish Eabbi is in the 
habit of giving to another ; but ever since she crept behind the 
table, she has n*ot ceased to kiss my feet. My head with common 
oiive-oil, you did not anoint ; but she, in the fulness of her devo- 
tion, has poured out the costliest gift she has." 

Then He turns to the poor trembling one. Till now He had 
not spoken to her a word. He had allowed her in silence to 
urge her suit. But He who will not break the bruised reed, nor 
quench the smoking flax, says, with His kind, loving voice, " Thy 
sins are forgiven thee ; thy faith has saved thee ; go in peace." 

She did come weary, she has found rest ! Just as you have 
seen the sun shining on the broken-down battered flower, and it 



lifts its drooping head all " dewy with nature's tear-drops ; " — so 
He who is Brightee than the brightest sun in the natural 
heavens — the true SuN of Eighteousness — shone on her broken 
heart and raised it up again ! The poor castaway is floated to 
the Eock of Ages ; and she is there safe for ever ! Perchance 
she would often, as she thought of Jesus and of that hour of 
mercy, repeat to herself the words of David's Psalm — " He brought 
me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my 
feet upon a rock, and established my goings. And He hath put a 
new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: many shall 
see it, and fear, and shall trust in the Lord" (Ps. xl. 2, 3). 

If Simon, and his other proud and haughty guests, who had 
seen all that took place, were silent, cold, and joyless — this I am 
sure of, there was joy in Heaven that day among the angels of 
God over that one sinner that repented. Yes, there was joy in 
the heart of One higher than angels. Jesus was saying, lilce the 
shepherd in His own parable, as He laid the wanderer on His 
shoulders, " Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was 
lost." 

This whole story of grace and forgiveness seems thus to speak 
to us — 

" Pilgrim ! burdened with thy siu, 
Come the way to Zion's gate ; 
There, till mercy shut thee in, 
Knock, and weep, and watch, and wait 

" Knock— He knows the sinner's cry ; 
Weep — He loves the mourner's tears ; 
Watch — for saving grace is nigh ; 
Wait — till heavenly light appears." 



192 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

XXIX 
5^e sentifj a mpssapte to iolm the ISapttst. 

I SHOULD like to tell you of another occurrence which took place 
about this time, — a message that came to Jesus, and the reply 
Jesus gave to it. 

The sender of the message was one whom we have not heard 
of now for long — the good and devoted John the Baptist. 

I have already mentioned that John had been shut up by 
Herod in a dungeon in the land of Moab. How changed to him 
must his present life have been, away from the cheerful light , 
away from the gray rocks, and flowers, and murmurs of the 
mountain bee ; away from the singing of birds among the forests 
of terebinth and olive, that skirted his old desert home ! The 
balmy winds no longer played on his shaggy locks ; Jordan, with 
its wild music, no longer rushed at his side ; the stars, like wake- 
ful angels, no longer looked down on his leafy couch. He had a 
lake near him, — but its sullen surface was never broken with 
blue ripples. No fisherman's oars were heard on it in the moon- 
light — no fisherman's boat was moored on its briny shores. The 
very birds ceased their flight or hushed then songs over this " Sea 
of Death," as it was well named. 

Think of him in that low-lying prison ; its stifling heat, Like 
that of a furnace, — rough iron chains dangling at his side, oi 
fettering his limbs. 

It would seem, from what we are told, that he was not alto- 
gether forbidden to converse with the few disciples who still 
remained faithful to him. But, doubtless, the faces he most 
fiequently saw were very different from those of attached friends 
and followers. Stern gaolers who did not know what pity was ; 
tlie soldiers of Herod — the sentinels of his dungeon — pacing out- 
side with daggers slung by their side, and ready to use them if 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 193 

any attempt were made at flight. The hunted partridge on the 
mountains flying from place to place had a chance of escape. 
He had none. 

Sad often are the results, both to mind and body, in the case of 
those doomed for days and weeks and months to such cheerless 
captivity. Their eyes get red in their sockets, their, brain gets 
dizzy, their very souls become like the vaults where they are — 
full of gloomy horrors, almost driving them to madness and 
despair. 

Can we wonder if some hard thoughts had come into John's 
mind as he lay at night, sleepless, tossing on his pallet of straw ? 
Might he not say to himself, " Can I possibly have been deceived 
all this time ? Can it be I have mistaken Jesus of Nazareth 
for the true Messiah ? Oh, I wonder, can He really be ' the 
Lamb of God,' to whom I pointed so many of my disciples, who 
is to take away the sin of the world ? Or can the Holy Dove I 
imagined I saw, and the Divine Voice I imagined I heard pro- 
claiming Him to be God's ' Beloved Son,' be only false visions — 
airy dreams ? " 

John might thus further pursue his reflections : " Surely, if Jesus 
had been the Son of God, He would not leave me to pine and 
suffer in this dark fortress. If I have been told aright that He has 
been doing such wonders elsewhere, making the blind to see, and 
the dumb to speak, and the dead to live, why has He not come to 
the help of His old friend ? Why has He not sent some kind 
angel to break these cruel iron bars, and so permit me to go back 
to my great mission of warning from the wrath to come, and to 
point sinners to Himself as the Saviour ? If I have appeared, as 
He declared I had, in the spirit and power of Elijah, why has He 
not commissioned Elijah's chariot of fire and horses of fire to bear 
me away from hence, and set me once more by my loved rocky home 
in the Jordan YaUey ? If He had even sent me some kind words, 
it would have comforted me ; but for a whole year I have heard 
nothing from Him, and that, too, though He be only two days' 
journey from me : — not one message of mercy or of heart-cheer 
has reached me. The roar of the Uon in the Jordan jungles, the 



fiercer roar of the human lion in his den of sin at Tiberias, has 
no terror to me compared to the terror and sadness of this strange 
silence. It is worse than death ! If He had really been, as I 
had fondly thought, ' the True Light which lighteth every man 
that Cometh into the world,' would he not have sent a needed ray 
into this thick darkness ? " 

I have no doubt that besides these, there were other misgivings 
which crossed and troubled the mind of the good Baptist. Like 
most of his countrymen, he had imagined that the Messiah, when 
He came, would all at once set up a great Kingdom in Palestine. 
But, as yet, what had Jesus done ? The Eoman power and yoke 
were as galling as ever. Then, too, Jesus was not the strict and 
stern Eeformer John had expected Him to be. He had heard of 
Him joining in the mirth of a marriage-feast at Cana, and 
dining in the Pharisees' houses by the Lake-side. Where in 
all this was " the fan " that was to be in His hand, with 
which he was " thorouglily to purge the floor, and burn up the 
chaif " ? 

These, and such-like agitating reflections, had taken possession 
of the brave man's soul. I believe they came into the minds of 
John's disciples too. I believe it was as much for their sakes, as 
for his own, that he resolves to take means to have his doubts set 
at rest. 

" I cannot," he says, " remain in this sad state, not knowing 
whether I have been all the time believing a lie, — deceiving 
myself and deceiving others. The faith of my own disciples, 
too, is beginning to fail as well as my own." 

One day he calls to two of these, through the grated bars of 
his dungeon, as you see represented in our picture. 

" I know," we may imagine him saying to his trusted followers, 
" I know what hard thoughts you are thinking, and what hard 
things you are uttering. I do not blame you ; for they are 
destroying my own peace too, and greatly troubling me. Hasten 
without delay to Galilee, where Jesus of Nazareth is. Tell Him 
of our perplexities. Tell Him how needful to have our minds 
calmed and our doubts removed. Ask Him the plain question, 




'John calling unto him two of his disciples sefit them to Jesus " (Luke 

vii. 19) page 194 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 



195 



If He, really he the Christ ; or if toe must look for some other 
Messiah yet to come ? " 

The two disciples did as John told them. They sped away up 
the hot valley of the Jordan till they reached the place where 
Christ was sojourning. 

" Eabbi ! our imprisoned master has charged us to deliver this 
urgent message : ^Art Thou the Messiah that is coming, or do we 
look for another 1 ' " 

How did Jesus answer ? 

He replied in the most convincing of ways. He selected from 
among the crowd a number of those who were lame, blind, dumb, 
also some who had evil spirits, and " He cured them all." Then, 
having still further preached His great Gospel message to the 
poor people who were following Him, He turned round to the 
messengers, and said, " Go and tell John lohat things ye have seen 
and heard." 

The disciples went away, doubtless, very glad and joyful. It is 
supposed that, in addition to this first short reply, Jesus would 
likely send some other kind, and perhaps more special, messages 
to His much-loved friend. 

Might He not very possibly comfort him by telling that there 
was some gracious purpose in that gloomy prison life which 
seemed so mysterious; and that even if Herod should do his 
worst, and thus prevent their ever meeting again in this world, 
they would meet in the Father's house on high; that there, 
through all eternity, John would behold Him as ' the Lamb of 
God,' and, according to the beautiful name he gave himself, be for 
ever " the Friend of the Bridegroom." 

The sequel to this scene is interesting. The disciples of the 
Baptist had by this time started on' their journey back, and as 
they were seen receding in the far distance, how lovingly does 
Jesus, as He turns to the crowd around, speak of the character of 
His beloved Forerunner, who was now lying bound with chains, 
and about to suffer cruel death in a very few days. Never were 
there more touching words than those which were now spoken by 
the true David over his beloved Jonathan — " Among those that are 



196 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

horn of ivomen," said He, " there is not a greater Prophet than John 
the Baptist." 

When the two messengers reached the dungeon where the 
doomed man was, the replies they brought back must have been 
to him like a rift in the clouds, bringing a gush of radiant sun- 
shine from a lowering sky. He would be his own bold, brave 
self again : willing to live, willing to suffer, willing to die. And 
when the gloomy murderers at last stood before him with the 
bared sword, the sweet words of Jesus would smooth that awful 
death-pillow : " Blessed is he whosoever shall not he offended in me." 

John we have already spoken of as the Morning Star of the 
new Gospel Dispensation. Like his type in the natural heavens, 
how willingly he submitted that his own light should be lost and 
swallowed up in that of Him who was Brighter than the Sun. 
" He must increase, hut I must decrease," Yet, how beautiful, too, 
was the saying of Jesus — as " the less was blessed of the Better " 
— " He loas a burning and a shining light ; and ye were willing 
for a season to rejoice in His light ! " 



XXX. 

f^e Xmt\)ts bs Parables, anti tf)en crosses tf}c iLaite 
in a storm. 

Jesus has returned to the Lake. Its little bays and creeks — its 
fishermen's huts and peasants' hamlets, its villages with their 
gardens, vineyards, and palm-groves, must have had a home feel- 
ing to Him now. Again crowds gather on the shore, and from 
the deck of a large boat He preaches to them. 

His sermon that forenoon consisted of a number of sayings 
called Parables. 

A Parable, as you know, is a spiritual truth or lesson taught 
by means of a story : I may add, very generally too by means of 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 197 

a story culled from God's Great Book of outer nature ; something 
taken from the woods or rivers or plains or mountains or skies. 

People living in the East have always liked knowledge con- 
veyed to them in this way. Indeed, who among ourselves in our 
earliest years did not like to he addressed in the same manner ; 
and to have a dry lesson imparted by parent or teacher in the 
shape of a story ? 

Jesus knew that these simple Galilean people, gathered on the 
heach of Gennesaret, were children in their ways ; and He, there- 
fore, explained to them the great things about His kingdom by 
means of these parables. In other words. He took beautiful 
scenes and facts from that Great Book I have just mentioned, — 
the hills and fields, the corn and trees, the boats and nets, the 
flowers and the waters, — and made these convey thoughts about 
God and the soul. In the language of King Solomon they were 
like " Apples of gold, in pictures of silver" or they have been 
likened to a row of lovely pearls strung together on the thread of 
truth by Him who was " The Truth." 

We have not space to take separately this famous group of 
parables which Jesus now spake. You will find them given in 
full in the thirteenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel. I can 
only allude to the first. It was about a Soioer solving his seed. 

Jesus may have lifted up His eyes from the deck of the fishing 
vessel, and in the rich plains straight before Him, He may have 
seen a farmer busy scattering his grain upon the ground. In 
some places the seed lay on the hard footway, trodden by the 
passers-by. Birds circling above the sower's head darted down, 
and picking up the grains as they fell, bore them away. In 
some places the ground was rocky, — only a little shallow mould 
covered the surface of the naked stone, so that though the seed 
sown became speedily green, yet having no depth to take root, 
and no moisture, it soon withered under the hot rays of the sun. 
In some places (as I well remember seeing still in that same plain), 
there are thorns and thistles much sharper and larger than any in 
this country, likely the same kind of thorn which afterwards was 
twisted into a crown for the brow of Jesus. No wonder that any 



seed sown among them was speedily choked. In some places the 
ground was rich and good, bearing wonderful crops in its season. 

Jesus made that sower a type of Himself, scattering the good 
seed of the Word on the soil of different hearts ; — " Belwlcl a 
sower went forth to sow." 

We have these different soils in aU. our churches, and in aU our 
schools, I think I may add, in all our homes and nurseries ; — 
the hard ground, the stony ground, the thorny ground, the good 
ground. 

Oh happy those, whether young or old, who on the great 
reaping-day, when the angels put in their sickles, will be found 
to be part and parcel of that " honest soil " which has yielded a 
rich harvest to the glory of God. 

At the end of this Parable-sermon the sun was going down 
over the rocky hills behind Magdala. The birds that had all day 
been twittering among the branches or soaring above the corn-, 
fields — were now winging their flight to their shelters in tree and 
cave and mossy dell. The eye of Christ at that moment may 
perhaps have seen one of these birds sink singing into its nest. 

At the same instant a rich Scribe came, and said to Jesus that 
he would like to cast in his lot with Him, and to follow Him 
wherever He went. 

I dare say the man may have been sincere and earnest enough 
in what he said. But he spoke to One who knew his heart 
better than he did himself. Jesus saw that he would not be so 
ready as he thought, to leave aU his family comforts, and follow 
a houseless, homeless Saviour. So with that bird of the air in 
His eye, He answered in words thus rendered in your well-known 
hymn — 

" Every fox hath where to rest, 
Every little bird its nest : 
But the Great God the world who made, 
Hath not where to lay His head." 

Jesus must have been very weary after so long a day's labour. 
The crowds are still keeping around Him. They are unwilling 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 199 

to go away. But His kind watchful disciples see too well that 
their Master needs rest. So instead of walking along the beach 
as they intended, and spending the night at Capernaum, they push 
the boat from the shore, hoist the sail, and just as darkness is 
coming on, they are crossing the Lake to the opposite side. 

It is said in St. Mark " Tluy took Him emn as Re was:"— 
" Even as He was." The evening meal likely was not tasted. 
He had no warm clothing for the chilly night — no curtains for 
His couch, save the rough canvas of the fishing vessel. But it 
mattered not. He is not unwilling to go. Among the quiet hills 
across the Lake He can enjoy that repose which in the busier 
western shore cannot be obtained. 

Young readers, it is a touching picture surely we here have oi 
Jesus ! It shows us, among other things, that He was in every 
respect a Man, — partaker in all the sinless weaknesses of our 
frail, human nature. For so tired was He with His labours, that 
wrapped for warmth in a coarse fisherman's coat, He lay stretched 
in the hinder part of the boat. He rested His weary head either 
on the cushion of the helmsman, or as some think on the rough 
wooden rail at the stern, or perhaps with a coil of ropes, instead 
jf a soft piUow. There He fell asleep. 

It would seem that when they first started and took in their 
anchor, the sun had set peacefully — no cloud was in the sky, no 
ripple on the waves. But all of a sudden one of those storms, or 
squalls, which so often sweep that mountain Lake, came down 
upon them. The wind is howling, and the waves are running 
high. The rain too is coming down (as the original word implies) ; 
and the boat is pitching and tossing like a cork on the waters. 
Yet how calm, how deep are His slumbers ! The splash of the 
oars, the rising wind, the spray dashing over, the noise of the 
crew, do not disturb Him. Yes, I repeat, when I see the Saviour 
who died for me so fast asleep as to require the voice of His own 
disciples to unseal His closed eyes, it shows that He must have 
had a body subject to the very same weakness and weariness as 
that of any one of His people. 

The disciples are terrified. They were well accustomed to 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



sudden gusts. Many a rough night had taught them to ride fear* 
less over the waves of the Lake, and to sing cheerily their boat- 
man's song amid the darkness. But the present must have been 
no ordinary tempest. They are greatly afraid lest the fragile craft 
may be driven to pieces, or sunk in the watery gulphs. Cowering 
in terror they call to their sleeping Master, They wake Him up 
with the cry — " Lord, save us : we perish ! " " blaster, carest Thou 
not that we perish ^ " 

In the draught of fishes Jesus had shown His dominion over 
the fish of the sea. Now He is about to show that He is Euler 
of the sea itself. " The sea is His, and He made it " (Ps. xcv. 5). 
The only one in the vessel calm and fearless. He rises at once 
from His hard couch. By a single word, " Peace, he still," the rough ' 
hurricane ceases to blow, and the sea ceases from her raging 
— " Tliere is a great calm." He is the true Orpheus of classic 
fable, whose divine music in a moment chains the winds, rocks 
the monster billows to sleep, and unlooses every tongue in the 
vessel to cry out, " What manner of man is this ? " 

How easily His will is obeyed ! There is no other agencj' 
needed. He did not require to stretch out a rod like Moses ovei 
the waters ? No ; " He spake, and it was done." 

You remember the words of the Psalmist ? They might have 
been uttered by the awe-struck, adoring disciples now — " Lord 
God of hosts, who is a strong Lord like unto Thee ? or to thy faith- 
fulness round about Thee ? Thou rulest the raging of the sea : when 
the waves thereof arise, Thou stillest them " (Ps. Ixxxix. 8, 9). 

I have just told you of Jesus discoursing to the people by 
means of parables. By this tempest on the Lake, and by the 
hushing of winds and waves, He spake a parable-story of a diffe- 
rent kind to His fishermen disciples, and one they would never 
forget. Storms of human passion, prejudice, and hatred, more 
violent far than ever swept their native lake, would ere long have 
to be faced by them. " The floods of ungodly men " would " make 
them afraid." But in the midst of their sufferings and trials they 
would remember the voice of One " mightier than the noise of many 
waters, yea than the mighty waves of the sea." Yes, and in a yet 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 



sadder hour and power of darkness than any of these, they would 
hear the Master saying, in the old familiar words, " Peace he unto 
you" " Peace ! he still ! " (John xx. 1 9). 



XXXI. 

f^e pes t0 0atiara anlr cures tlje man intt!} tfje lesion of 
tiebtls. 

The last remark I made was, that there are storms which Jesus 
can calm, wilder and more furious than the wildest tempest on 
lake or ocean. He is gomg to show that He can do this now. 

He and His disciples had reached, by dawn of the next 
morning, the opposite shore, and cast anchor on its shingle. 

I remember the first time I saw these Eastern mountains a long 
distance off, they were glowing with the purple light of evening. 
But if I had been nearer they would have appeared by no means 
so beautiful. This country of Gadara is still at this day, as it was 
in the time of Christ, bare and rugged. The boatful of voyagers 
we have been following in thought, had left behind them the smil- 
ing fields, blooming flowers, and refreshing rills of the western 
plain, and were now within the barren territory of Philip the 
Tetrarch. Jesus often went to these lonely hills to pray ; but it 
was a bleak natural sanctuary compared to the retreats above 
Bethsaida and Magdala. The hills rose abrupt and naked from 
the water's edge, with only a few patches of green upon them. 
On their slopes were to be seen great herds of swine feeding ; 
animals which, you know, the Jews were by theii law forbidden 
to keep, being unclean. 

A hideous sight here meets the eye of Jesus. A man, whose 
wretched soul was possessed by evil spirits, rushes along one of 
these hillsides, then along the border of rough pebbles and shells 
between the precipice and the sea. He had his dwelling among 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



tlie rock-cut tombs, wliicli may still be seen among these cliffs. 
No shred of clothing had been left on his body. He was 
the terror of every one round about. They had tried at times to 
tame him, but to no purpose. Sometimes, for their own protec 
tion, they bound his hands with cords and ropes and chains. 
But the demons within him increased his bodily strength, and he 
snajDped these bonds asunder — tore them away as if they had 
been tow. In his fury he cut himself with the sharp limestone 
flints and spikes of shell which strewed the beach. A high road 
seems to have led from the nearest town or village down to the 
shore, but " no one now could pass that way " because of him. 
It was not during the day only that he roamed the neighbour- 
hood ; he continued his cries all night long ; startling the fisher- 
men in their lonely watch on the Lake. Occasionally he would 
rush to the deeper solitudes of nature round about, " driven by 
the Evil Spirit into the wilderness." Like that troubled sea 
which Jesus and His disciples had just left — he could not rest. 
It would seem as if he had been sent away as far as possible from 
his home, wherever it was, to this lonely place, until death would 
give to himself and to his friends the only terrible relief 

If there was " no man " that could tame this wild beast in 
human shape, there was One, more than man, who was able to 
do so. 

That One was nigh. The poor outcast comes kneeling implor- 
ingly at the feet of the kind Prophet of Nazareth. 

Oh, how Jesus always forgot Himself and His own comfort in 
order to do good to others ! 

He had just come out of the boat, after His troubled sleep, all 
drenched with the spray of tlie midnight storm, and His fast not 
broken. But He never thinks of His own wants. A wretched 
being claims His pity and His power. He could not bear to see 
a liuman frame, made as a Temj^le for His glory, converted into 
a habitation of devils. 

He commands the wicked spirits to come out of the man. A 
whole legion of them enter into a flock of swine that were browsing 
on the hill-top. These rush over the preci^jices into the Lake 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 203 

below, one after another, each following its blind leader, and were 
drowned in the waters. 

Then he, out of whom the devils were cast, who had been long 
the scourge and terror of the region, sat quiet as a little child, at 
the feet of his Great Deliverer. The raging lion became, at the 
word of Jesus, a gentle lamb ! 

What a calm after so terrible a storm ! 

" The man" we read, " out of whom the devils were departed, 
besought Him that he might he with Him." The Beightee than 
THE Sun had dispersed the thick gloom from his soul. Need we 
wonder if his first earnest wish were to " show forth the praises 
of Him who had called him out of darkness into His maevellous 
LIGHT " ? Need we wonder, moreover, that he should earnestly 
desire to leave the scene of his miseries ; that he should beg to 
be allowed to get into the vessel with Jesus and His disciples, 
never to leave them again ? He may well have feared lest these 
wicked spirits might find him out once more, and that his last 
state would be worse than the first. 

Did Jesus grant his petition ? 

No ; as we found in the case of the widow's son at Nain, He 
told him rather to go away home to his friends, and inform them 
of the great things that had been done for him. Obeying his 
Lord's command, the lately wretched being became at once a 
zealous missionary, proclaiming throughout the adjoining city the 
wondrous power of the Divine Healer. 

Jesus and His disciples crossed the Lake again, and found the 
crowd of yesterday waiting gladly to receive Him. 

A number of " little ships," we read, had sailed after Him, so 
far at least, the previous evening, but they had to put back 
owing to the sudden storm. When the friendly followers who 
were in these smaller craft saw Jesus once more, and heard from 
the lips of His disciples how it was that the waves had calmed 
so suddenly, they were more than ever impressed with the mighty 
works of the Master. How strange for that Lake of theirs, with 
which they were so familiar, to have its furious billows stayed at 



204 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

a word ! No Prophet since Moses had ever so ruled the stormy 
sea. 

And yet, too, there was much about this God-Man, this Man- 
God, they could not understand. So great, yet so humble, — so 
mighty, yet so weak, — stilling storms and tempests, and yet a 
weary sleeper, glad of rest in a fisherman's boat ! 

They had yet to learn the full meaning of that "' mystery of 
His holy incarnation," so comforting to His Clmrch and people 
in all coming ages. — " Our God, yet our Brother — our Brother, 
yet our God." 



XXXII. 

He cures tfje JBautjljtcr of Sairus. 

While Jesus was welcomed by the people lining the beach, there 
is one who is more anxious to get near Him than all the others. 
Jairus was a well-known person, what we would caU " a leading 
man," in the town of Capernaum ; for, as we have before noted, he 
was one of the rulers or cliiefs of the synagogue. When he was 
observed by the crowd, there is at once an opening made to let 
him pass through. 

From his pale face, and the tear on his cheek, it is evident that 
there is some great trouble oppressing him ; and that he is bring- 
ing his grief, whatever it was, to the Man of Sorrows. The 
Saviour could not fail to be well known to him. As I previously 
remarked, it is not unlikely the Euler was seated in his chair of 
honour in the synagogue, on the occasion of Christ casting out the 
devils from the man who was possessed ; also that he was one of 
those who went to plead in behalf of the good centurion's dying 
servant. As a fellow-townsman he could not be ignorant of the 
cure wrought on the nobleman's son. In these, and perhaps 
other cases, he had seen what the power of Jesus could effect, 
when vain was the help of man. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 205 

Sickness, and alas ! he much fears, death, the twin messengers 
which had been visiting the homes of others, have now come to 
his own. His daughter, doubtless one much beloved, " lay a 
dying!' It must have been a sad thing to see that young life 
ebbing fast away. The doleful word " no hope," whispered from 
one to another around her bed ! 

The father thinks of the One who alone can be of any avail in 
that hour of extremity. He says to himself, ' Jesus, the Great 
and Good Physician, is alone able to save my child. I feel 
assured, too. He will be willing. He will not turn away from 
my earnest pleadings. If He has stooped to heal a humble 
slave — a soldier's servant — surely He will not refuse to raise up 
the tender drooping flower of my home, and allow it to shed its 
fragrance once more around us.' 

There is not a moment to be lost ; for, like the grains you may 
have seen in the sand-glass, the sands of her little life would soon 
be run out, — the last of these were fast falling. He speeds along 
to the shore, as he sees the fishing-boat nearing it wherein Jesus 
is. In a moment he was kneeling down in an agony of prayer 
at the Saviour's feet, and saying, " Oh ! Master, come quickly to 
ray house ; my little daughter, who is only twelve years of age, is 
dying. Come, put your hands upon her that she may be healed, 
and live." 

Jesus at once said, " I will go." 

Think how glad Jairus must have been, as he felt that the 
footsteps of the Divine Teacher were closely following his own, 
and that in a very few minutes Jesus wiU be standing by the 
sickbed of his dear child ! 

But, in the meanwhile, the Gracious Healer is stopped on His 
way by another petitioner. 

We are not sorry to see another poor sufferer coming to get 
cured ; but at first we almost wish, for the sake of Jairus, that she 
had come at some other time than now; all the more so when 
we are informed that, during the pause which ensued, what the 
sorrowing father dreaded had really taken place, — the sands had 
run out, — the pulse of his child had ceased to beat ! 



2o6 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

You will ask, who was the needy suppliant who was now the 
cause of this delay ? 

It was a woman who stole through the crowd to try and get 
cured of her own disease. She had been ill for a very long time. 
And not only must she have been a great sufferer, but from the 
nature of her complaint, she may, by the Jewish Law, have been 
considered unclean, and strictly forbidden to join in religious 
ordinances. If she was a good and pious woman, as we have 
every reason to believe she was, — how very sad, in addition to 
her weakness and suffering, to be deprived for whole twelve 
years of the means of grace ! May we not think of her in 
her lonely hours often breathing out the fond, earnest prayer, 
"My soul thirsteth for Thee, my flesh longeth for Thee in a dry 
and thirsty land, where no water is ; to see Thy power and Thy 
glory, so as I have seen Thee in the sanctuary" (Ps. Ixiii. i, 2). 
She probably was in humble Hfe, and had not much money to 
spare. The little she possessed had been already spent in order 
to try and get cured. But all the doctors on the Lake-side 
had failed to do her any good. She was none the better, but 
rather the worse. 

She, too, resolves to try and bring her case to Jesus. She sees 
she has a chance now. It may be her only one. 

The difficulty is how to get near Him in the crowd. If she 
had been strong and well, she might have managed to push her 
way through, and to have knelt at His feet, like Jairus. But 
this she is unable to do. 

She says to herself, " Oh ! if I could only get near enough 
to touch the fringe of His garment, I am sure I should be 
healed." 

The Saviour knew all about her. He had noted her present earnest 
desires. He admired much the beautiful simplicity of her faith. 
He pitied alike her poverty and her helplessness. The Euler of 
the synagogue was rich and well known, but Jesus wished to 
show that in doing good to people He gives no preference to rank 
or station. So, before going to the house of Jairus, He imparts 
healinsx to this other sufferer. Her longimj to touch the border 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 207 

of the robe is effected. With a thankful heart she feels that the 
cure is complete. 

She tries to slip away unnoticed through the crowd. But 
Jesus, who felt the unseen touch, calls her back. He wished her 
to know that it was not the putting of her finger to the hem of 
His garment which had restored her, but her simple trust in His 
Divine power and mercy. He sends her away with His own 
loving blessing, " Daughter, go in peace." 

He proceeded then to the house of Jairus. 

I think I hear one of you repeat the remark already made, 
" What a pity Jesus had been thus stopped on the road ! How 
sad to think that during these moments of interruption death had 
done its work ! He might have reached the sickbed in time, had 
it not been for this new suppliant." And in truth during what 
seems the unfortimate delay, a message reached Jairus from his 
own house that his saddest fears were fulfilled. His tender 
child, perhaps his only one (like the one ewe lamb of the pro- 
phet's parable), had slept the sleep of death ! 

What a moment this must have been to that poor father ! the 
blessing of his home and his life cut down ; just at the age, too, 
most dear and attractive. How he would think of all he had lost ! 
How his heart would be like to break as he called to mind all her 
little ways — the sound of her joyful footstep, the music of her 
cheerful voice, her gentle hand often smoothing the wrinkles of 
care from his brow ; the pride of the present and the hope of his 
future ! He never dreamt of such a blow as this ! 

Yet how beautiful is his conduct. He does not speak of the 
lost time which had been caused by the cure of the other. He 
does not say, " Oh ! why did Jesus not come with me at once ? 
If He had done so, my child might have still lived, and been 
spared to be the comfort of my old age." No; not a fretful 
word comes from his lips. 

The messenger sent speaks harshly to the bereaved man. 
" Trouble not," he says, (fatigue not) " the Master ; save Him this 
needless coming to the house of death. It is too late for anything 
to be done now." 



2o8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Jairus seems to have been too afflicted to tell out his thoughts. 
But Jesus knew and noted the sore struggle in his heart. So, we 
read, He answered, " Hush, hush, do not he afraid : only believe. 
I shall raise your dear one to life again. You have just seen My 
power on a suffering woman — ONLY believe — and I will show 
you greater things than these ! " 

This case was different from that of the widow's son at ISTain. 
He was raised up to life, you will remember, in the presence of 
two crowds that met outside the gate of the village. Now Jesus 
acts differently. He found already, according to Jewish cus- 
tom, that the hired minstrels and players on funeral pipes had 
come to the house of the dead, making their pretended grief. ' 
They were crying aloud and beating their breasts, thus imitating 
a sorrow they did not feel. 

" The maid is not dead, hut sleepeth" said the Saviour. 

The paid weepers laughed at Him when He said so, and tried 
to scorn Him, for they knew she was dead, — that hers was the 
sleep from which there is no waking. 

Jesus never liked pretences of any kind ; so He first put out 
all these hired minstrels, and made the crowd remain outside too. 
Then He took with Him into the room His three favoured dis- 
ciples, — Peter, James, and John, — also the father and mother of 
the child. 

He stooped over the bed where she lay. Taking her hand, 
white with the chill of death, into His, He said, as the words 
tenderly mean, "Arise, my child ! " 

Instantly her spirit came back from the regions of the de- 
parted. She got up and walked. 

Oh, what a happy home that house of sorrow was in a moment 
made ! He had taken off their sackcloth, and girded them with 
gladness. 

Though we are not told, may we not hope and believe that the 
Euler's beloved daughter became from that hour a Lamb in the 
fold of the Good Shepherd ? May we not think of her now in 
His presence, one of the redeemed flock reposing amid the pastures 
of the Blessed, and led by Him to the living fountains of waters ? 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 209 

XXXIII. 

He f}ears of 3o|)n t|)0 Baptist's ©eatl^* 

Jesus, at this time, sent away His Apostles, two and two to- 
gether, on their first missionary journey. As there were twelve 
of them, they would he able to visit a good number of towns and 
\'-illages in a very short time. These lay all near one another 
round about the Lake. The Apostles had power specially given 
them to " heal the sick," and they were commanded to '' -preach 
the Kingdom of God'' Doubtless the message they carried from 
place to place would be mainly this : that the true Messiah had, 
in the person of their Divine Master, at last appeared ; and they 
wrought miracles in support of what they affirmed. 

They would go to the Gentiles in future years, and bear the 
same declaration to the vast heathen world. But now they were to 
go no further than the Jews — " the lost sheep of the house of Israel." 

Jesus told them, before setting out, of the trials they would 
have to endure. He said He sent them forth " like sheep in the 
midst of luolves." He spoke comforting words too. He assured 
them that confessing Him before men, He would at last confess 
them before His Father which is in heaven. 

He wished to teach them, as a special lesson, to trust God's 
gracious care and providence. Accordingly, they seem to have 
made little or no provision for their journey. They had not even 
the scrip or bag which was usually taken by travellers to carry 
necessaries. They had nothing but pilgrim staves ; and, best of 
all, their Master's blessing. 

After a few days they returned with joy, and gave an account 
of "what they had done, and what they had taught." They had 
reaped the first sheaves of a great future harvest. 

But an event of a very different kind had taken place. 





Some who read this book may "know, by pamful experience, 
what a very sad thing it is to have lost one of their dearest and 
kindest earthly friends and companions. 

Jesus had this heart-sorrow now. The mournfid news of the 
Baptist's death had just reached Him. That death was a cruel 
and dreadful one. A base woman, Herodias, who called herself 
the wife of Herod Antipas, though she was the wife of his brother 
Philip, hated John with all her heart ; and the cause of her 
hatred was as follows. 

John, as we well know, was a brave, faithful man, who had 
the fear of God, and no other fear. One day Herod, out of 
curiosity, had sent to see the strange Preacher of the desert. The 
spare, sunburnt man appeared in the Tetrarch's palace and pre- 
sence. More than likely, Herodias, as was the custom, sat on a 
purple throne of state by the Tetrarch's side. She had no thought 
or shame about her own wicked conduct. Many, perhaps most, 
would have been afraid to speak out honestly before all these gay, 
proud courtiers and rulers. Not so the Baptist. 

It mattered little to him that he was not attired in 'king's 
clothing.' I daresay some of the officers of the court smiled at 
his bronzed face and camel's-hair cloak and leathern girdle. He 
heeded not. Just as the great Elijah, many hundred years before, 
wearing a similar dress, had reproved Ahab and Jezebel ; so John, 
who had much of Elijah's spirit in him, felt that he was God's 
minister alike to rich and poor, kings and peasants ; and he 
boldly said to Herod, before all his lords and servants, " You do 
very wrong in having Herodias for your wife. She is the wife of 
another ; and your own lawful one, the daughter of King Aretas, 
is still alive." 

How angry you may suppose Herodias was, to hear a poor 
Jewish preacher speaking thus ! From that hour she resolved to 
have her revenge. She watched her opportunity, day after day 
and week after week, to secure John's murder. 

Her wicked design is accomplished at last, with the help of her 
own equally wicked daughter Salome. 

It was Herod's birthday ; and a great gathering of his lords, 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 



courtiers, and soldiers, took place to celebrate the occasion. The 
table was laden with a sumptuous feast; — golden .platters filled 
with meats and fruits, and golden goblets brimming with choicest 
wines. The banquet is over ; and the drunken guests remain in 
the dining-hall to finish the day's boisterous hilarity with music 
and dancing. The young princess, who seems to have inherited 
the early beauty and grace of her grandfather Herod the Great, 
entered among the revellers, and danced before them. The weak 
and wicked king was greatly pleased ; and, in a rash moment, 
he promised to give her anything she desired of him. 

Salome instantly went out to her mother, and asked her advice 
what she should demand of Herod. 

Herodias did not hesitate a moment. She was not content 
with saying merely that she wished John the Baptist to be killed 
secretly, and nothing said about it ; but she told her daughter to 
make the king promise to send an executioner with an axe to cut 
off his head, and bring it back on one of the golden dishes or 
platters to the banquet-hall. 

It has been thought probable that this feasting and dancing 
took place within the very castle (of Macherus) where John was 
confined. It seems to have been a building like many of the old 
" keeps " in our own country in former times, where the barons 
lived and feasted in splendour, while there were gloomy dungeons 
below in which they kept their prisoners. 

I need not add that the king did give the fatal order. 
Herodias, who may well be called a tigress in human form, only 
made too sure of her prey. 

You can imagine these last few terrible moments of John. 
The sound of suspected footsteps on the flight of steps leading to 
his gloomy cell : the heroic submission of the innocent prisoner : 
the flash of the sword in the darkness, and the hurrying up again 
amid the garish lights of the banquet-haU with the hideous gift 
for a Herodian princess ! It was the foulest murder of that age 
of crimes. 

We have reason to mourn over John's dreadful death; but in 
another sense no cause to do so, when we think of the exchange 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



he made from his dark dungeon to the bright mansions of heaven. 
He was among the first on earth to bask under the radiance of 
THE Greater Sun : — foremost among the privileged number who, 
in those Messianic times, " turned many to righteousness," and 
who are to shine as the stars for ever and ever. 

When the murder had taken place, Jewish writers say that the 
Tetrarch's wife gave orders to have the mangled corpse cast out- 
side the fortress walls, that it might be devoured by dogs. No 
wonder that that palace with its friglitful dungeon was called by 
the Jews "The Black Castle!" 

But John's sacred remains fell into more loving hands. A few 
of his select friends went to the dungeon, and " took his body 
and buried it." Where ? Perhaps in some rocky vault or cave 
near the scene of his preaching by the river banks. Perhaps 
near the spot where he had uttered the most joyous words of his 
life, " Behold the, Lamb of God ! " Then they hastened away as 
fast as they could along the Jordan Valley, to get comfort from 
One who, I think, I may well call " The Chief Mourner" of their 
murdered master. In the few touching words of the Gospel 
narrative, " The disciples took up the tody, and huried it, and went 
and told Jesus." 

When Jesus heard what had taken place, what did He do ? 
Just as I have known youthful mourners, who, when in great 
sorrow, like to be alone, save, perhaps, with their brothers and 
sisters, — so Jesus, with His human heart deeply wounded, 
desires to be at a distance from the crowds on the busy western 
shore. 

There is no spot all around where He can be so quiet as 
among the green hills on the north-eastern side of the Lake. So 
we read that, after meeting John's disciples and listening to the 
story of their tears, " When Jesus heard of it, He departed' thence 
ly ship into a desert place apart." His own disciples were with 
Him, but they would not intrude upon His grief Eather would 
they tenderly mingle their tears with His ; for many of them 
loved the good Baptist almost as much as their Master did. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 213 

There was anotlier who might well be pitied ; but in a very 
different way. You know, I daresay, who I mean ? 

I verily believe Herod could never, till his dying hour, get the 
thought of John's cruel end out of his mind. Shortly after this, 
he was living in a palace in Tiberias which was called " The 
Golden House." The sacred writer tells us his conscience smote 
him, and he was visited with horrible fears. He dreaded much 
lest Jesus might turn out to be none other than the great and 
good Baptist he had slain, come to life again. He would tremble, 
perhaps, lest at any moment the risen John might appear before 
him and say in the stern words of the old law — " With what 
measure, ye mete, it shall he measured to you again." 

The Greeks had a fabled female deity, the supposed daughter of 
' Night,' called Nemesis. She was said to be the avenger of wrong 
and the punisher of evil-doers, bearing a drawn sword in either 
hand. The Pagan fable had its own stern reality in the life and 
conscience of Herod. The memory of John's murder was in his 
case the ' N"emesis ' with flashing weapon, pursuing him wherever 
he went. The day indeed came at last, when the merited punish- 
ment he so much dreaded overtook him. " Vengeance is mine, I 
will recompense, saith the Lord.'''' In a few years he was banished 
from his throne, and died poor and detested in a foreign land ; 
while tradition says that Salome, the daughter of Herodias, who 
had done her mother's cruel bidding, fell into a lake in winter, 
and had her head torn from her body by the sharp blocks of ice. 

" Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not he unpunished " 
(Prov. xi. 21). "But the transgressors shall he destroyed together, 
the end of the wicked shall he cut ojf" (Ps. xxxvii. 38). 



214 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

XXXIV. 

^t feetis a CrobDti of jFi&e Eljousantf* 

Jesus was not allowed to enjoy the rest He so much needed, both 
for his weary body and His saddened spirit. Nor was He able, 
as He wished, to hear from the disciples in some peaceful nook 
on that quieter side of the Lake, an account of their mission. He 
felt that after their labours they required repose as much as He 
did. 

The vessel in which He and they were crossing was kept back 
by a head-wind, and after beating about, they landed near the 
spot where the Jordan enters the Sea of Tiberias. The mountains 
of Golan rose behind them. 

Though the place is called " a desert," we must not picture it 
as a wilderness of dry sand, for it abounded in rich pastures on 
which cattle were feeding under the shade of oaks, terebinths, and 
olives ; even a few peasants' and shepherds' cottages were seen on 
the hillsides with their little patches of garden. Only it was not 
peopled in the way the western shore was ; nor had many culti- 
vated fields. 

Some have thought that it was still several days before the 
Passover. But if others are right in supposing rather that it was 
the very day before the Passover was kept in Jerusalem, then it 
was held as a holiday all around. The fishers woidd have moored 
their boats and stored their nets ; the doors would be closed in 
the tanneries at Capernaum — the farm-servants would have left 
their fields, and the vine-dressers their vineyards ; the women 
their distaffs, the very schools would be emptied of their children. 
" There were many," we read, " coming and going." Whatever 
the occasion might be, these crowds of young and old from the 
western shore seemed to have thought they could not spend the 
day better than in going to meet the vessel that was bearing Jesus 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 215 

across the Lake. So we read that they went in haste by foot 
round the beach, along by the fringe of sand or by the camel- 
track ; — other cottagers and villagers joined them on the way, 
swelling the number. 

You may imagine how anxiously the fishing-boat was kept in 
view as it fought its way tlirough the waves. When the anchor 
was at last cast, a vast multitude had collected ; indeed as many 
as five thousand men, besides women and children. Those of them 
who had come from Capernaum must have walked upwards of 
four or five miles ; some had come further distances. 

Instead, then, of quiet, Jesus found Himself in the midst of a 
great crowd. 

We are told " when He, saiv them He was moved with compassion." 
He likened them to a flock of sheep that had no shepherd. 
So He resolved to act a shepherd's part to them ; — to lead them to 
"green pastures and still waters," and give them "meat which 
the world knows not of." In the words of St. Mark, " He taught 
them many things." 

We are not told what these things were. Since it was the 
eve of the Passover, He very possibly might unfold to them 
something about Himself, the true Paschal Lamb. 

I think, too, He could hardly help specially adverting to John 
the Baptist ; — His own kind heart was so full of His dear friend. 
He knew that very many of them loved John, and mourned sadly 
his cruel fate. It would be a rehef to the sorrowing Saviour to 
speak of this first of the " noble army of martyrs ; " — to point these 
thousands both to his holy example, and to the bright and happy 
world where his martyr-spirit had gone. He evidently spoke a 
long time to the multitude. We may well believe how many 
gracious words would come out of His mouth. Never did hours 
pass more pleasantly. 

But the night is fast coming on. The crowd are faint and 
weary. They have tasted nothing all day. There was no inn 
near, and no booths erected for the sale of loaves and fruit and 
wine. 

What was to be done ? Jesus, though He never seemed to 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



care about His own bodily wants ; — though He refused to change 
stones into bread for Himself when He was hungry, always 
thought of others. He did not like the idea of that crowd 
having been there all these long hours in the burning sun of an 
April day, without tasting a morsel of food. I daresay He would 
specially feel for the children who, we are told, were present. He 
would hear them telling their fathers and mothers how hungry 
they were, while their parents could do nothing for them. 

The disciples come to their Master in great concern. They 
urge Him without delay to send the crowd, old and young, away, 
before they got still more faint from want of food. 

But Jesus had other thoughts in His mind. 

There was one boy there, who had a basket slung on his 
shoulders. Its contents consisted of barley loaves and small 
fishes from the Lake. Some have thought this " little lad," as he 
is called, was going about the crowd selling his small store, and 
getting good prices for it : he had only five of the loaves and 
two small fishes left. Others think, from the way the story is 
told in the Gospels, that he was carrying the stock of provisions 
which the disciples had put up before they left Capernaum, and 
which they intended for their own evening meal. After the 
previous days of fatigue and hard work, the homely fare could 
not have been well spared for others. It would, moreover, be a 
mockery of the hungry crowd to attempt to dole out among 
them these few loaves and fishes. 

But they were enough for what Jesus wanted. 

He asked His disciples to bring what was in the boy's basket. 
He told them farther, to make all the men sit down in rows of 
fifties and hundreds. The crowd must have marvelled what all 
this meant. They knew there was nothing to eat. Yet the 
disciples were busy arranging them in lines and squares. They 
must have felt that something strange was going to happen, 
though they had no idea what it was. 

It must have been a wonderful banquet-hall this in outer 
nature ; — a far more beautiful one than Herod's, with all its 
gold and silver cups and dishes. The people had no seats or 



MERIDIA N BRIGH TNESS. 3 1 7 

benches. It was on nature's own loveliest couch, — a grassy 
slope, on which the groups reclined. 

We are told specially two things about the grass ; that it was 
very long (" much "), and also " green ; " not being yet scorched 
and browned with the heat of summer. Doubtless it was not only 
verdant with the rains of spring, but it would be sprinkled with 
the well-known flowers of that season. 

In front of this hillock — aU eyes turned towards Him, with 
marks of grief and weariness on His own face — stood Jesus. 

He takes the contents of the lad's basket; and, after lifting up 
His eyes to heaven. He brake them in pieces and gave them to 
the disciples, and then the disciples go round and round again — 
back and fore through the seated rows, handing to the multitude ; 
— for the word means they went on giving. 

The weary fainting crowd are aU revived. The little children 
who had looked so piteously a few moments before into their 
parents' faces, are now laughing away their tears as they receive 
their allotted portions. 

What a miracle ! That handful from the boy's basket, more 
than feeds these hungry thousands ! And when all are satisfied, 
there are twelve wicker baskets gathered of the fragments of fish 
and crumbs that lay strewn on the ground. The remains of the 
feast were thus greater than the provision at the beginning of it. 
The loaves had grown in the hands ®f the great and gracious 
Giver ! 

And now we may picture to ourselves that vast company rising 
from their green couches and about to depart to their several 
homes. And yet, too, they do not seem willing to go away. 
Why is this lingering ? 

One wish seems to have seized them all. To take Jesus at 
once and make Him a king ; — the king of the covenant nation ! 
These five thousand would form His bodyguard. As they 
marched through the Lake cities, thousands on thousands more 
would flock after Him. 

This was the Messiah these Galileans longed for. He was 
quite after their own hearts, Not a preacher like John, to teU 



them of tlieir sins ; — not a prophet, as Jesus had hitherto been, 
curing the sick and healing the diseased. But tliey liked miracles 
on the grand scale they had just witnessed. They would like to 
get bread from heaven without the trouble of baking it or buy- 
ing it. It was the forty years' wonders of the Sinai desert 
renewed, when the people got in abundance — manna and quails 
and gushing water. Gladly would the Jews of the Lake-side have 
their food thus daily meted out to them: — corn obtained without 
being sown, or gathered with the sickle, or ground by the mill- 
stones: — a rich feast spread merely by a word of power. They 
hailed a Divine Prophet who thus made their land to be, what it 
was called of old, " A land flowing with milk and honey." They 
remembered, perhaps, that the leader of the Israelites in the 
desert — their own great lawgiver — had said that God in after 
ages was to " raise up a Prophet like unto him." Surely this 
was He ! 

Can you not imagine the scene ? The excited crowd gathering 
around and shouting " Crown Him! crown Him! " 'Let us crown 
Him first in Capernaum, and then march straight to Jerusalem! 
There, at this gladsome season, the festive multitude will aid us 
in throwing open to Him the palace gates, and the children of 
Zion will be joyful in their King!' " Crown Him! crown Him!" 
is the loud ringing cry of young and old together. 

Jesus, however, steadfastly refuses the offer, and He silently 
withdraws fr(3m their sight. He tells His disciples not to mind 
Him ; but to go to their ship and cross the Lake. Meanwhile, 
as the shadows of evening are creeping up the hillsides, He 
ascends all alone the mountain, at the foot of which this miracle 
had been performed. 

As He climbs. He would see the crowd below, whom He had 
so recently fed, going away in companies back to their villages 
and farmyards and fishers' huts, singing their Paschal hymns, and 
praising Him who had spread a table for them in the wilderness. 
Most of them were walking by the road along the side of the 
Lake, but some had doubtless come from Tiberias, and would 
return there in their boats again. 



MERIDIAN BRIGHTNESS. 



219 



The sun had now set; and, if I am right as to the time I have 
supposed, the full moon that would be shining so brightly in 
Jerusalem and over all the land, had already risen. It would 
have otherwise been a dark journey for these multitudes ; but 
this great golden lamp would light them back through the 
winding creeks and across the rough boulder rocks which in 
that direction strew the shore. The same moonbeams would 
enable Jesus to see the little vessel below, with its Apostle-crew, 
bounding over the waves. I daresay they, too, would have 
willingly joined in the wish to put a crown on their Master's 
head. Doubtless it was to prevent them doing so, that He had 
told them at once to cross, and leave Him to go up the mountain 
alone. He was to be hailed at a later time (that very time next 
year as He rode across Mount Olivet) as " King of the Jews^' but 
not at present. His hour was not yet come. 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 



" AND IT SHALL COME TO PASS IN THAT DAY, THAT THE LIGHT SHALL 
NOT BE CLEAR, NOR DARK." — ZECH. XIV. 6. 

" AS THE NIGHT IN THE MIDST OF THE NOONDAY." — IS. XVI. 3. 

" AND NOW MEN SEE NOT THE BRIGHT LIGHT WHICH IS IN THE 
CLOUDS."— JOB XXXVII. 21. 

" UNTIL THE DAY BREAK, AND THE SHADOWS FLEE AWAY, I WILL GET 
ME TO THE MOUNTAIN OF MYRRH, AND TO THE HILL OF FRANK- 
INCENSE." — SOLOMON'S SONG IV. 6. 

" FROM THAT TIME MANY OF HIS DISCIPLES WiiNT BACK, AND WALKED 
NO MORE WITH HIM."— JOHN VL 66, 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 223 

XXXV. 

He ixialJts at nistjt on tije stormg ILafte. 

We have seen how Jesus told His disciples to take their boat 
and go straight across to "the Land of Gennesaret." They 
were evidently not willing thus to embark alone without their 
Master ; for it is said, " He constrained them to get into the ship." 
It looks as if He had to use gentle force before they would con- 
sent to be parted. He had good reasons, however, both regarding 
HimseK and them, for urging thus to set sail. 

We have hitherto been contemplating the mekidian beightness 
of the Divine SuN of Eighteousness. We have marked Him 
dispensing light and healing and blessing to the multitudes who 
rejoiced in His beams. We have even heard the shouts of those 
who wished to acknowledge Jesus then as King; in whose lips 
we might put the words of the great poet quoted in our title 
page, as they were ready to hail Him, as " Thou Sun of this great 
world both eye and soul!" But ominous clouds begin from this 
time to gather. And though no shadow from human wickedness 
and unbelief could really dim and obscure His heavenly glory ; 
moreover, though ever and anon we shall mark " the clear shining 
after rain;" — yet the sky of His future earthly life is never alto- 
gether without gloom. These clouds, relieved only by a few 
transient gleams before sunset, we shall find gradually deepening 
into the thick darkness of the close. 

The gratitude shown by the crowds He had lately fed would 
doubtless be cheering to Him. But He who saw the end from 
the beginning knew well that His enemies were on the watch, 
and that great trials and great conflicts were at hand. He fore- 
saw that on the very next day He would meet with much to 
make His heart sad. and that, too, even from those to whom He 



2 24 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

had just been so kind. Accordingly, with the light of moon 
and stars guiding His steps, He continues His way up one of 
the hills of Golan to be alone with His Father, and to receive 
a fresh baptism of the Spirit. We have abeady seen how tlie 
great " Captain of Salvation" — Himself about to be " made 
perfect through suffering " — valued, as much as any of the sons 
He brought to glory, the power of the weapon of " all ■prayer" — 
enabling Him to " withstand in the evil day." 

You can picture Him, then, gradually climbing the gentle 
slope. Perhaps He has reached some level spot which seems to 
invite alike to a sweet season of rest and divine communion, and 
from which, at the same time. He can watch, far below, the boat 
with His discijjles. 

The wind, which had been lulled in the afternoon, has again 
risen. Soon the full moon is sailing in the sky through great 
masses of white and black cloud ; and down below, the waves and 
their foam, tij)ped with her beams, look like crests of silver. 

It is evident that another of the storms I have before described 
has come upon the Lake. On this occasion it woiild seem to 
have swept down the rocky valley behind the village of Magdala. 
The vessel is tossed to and fro on the raging waters. 

If the disciples had had a fair breeze, they would very soon, 
by hoisting their sail, have reached the other side. But the 
wind had shifted since the morning. It was now against them ; 
and when midnight came they were beating about in the tempest 
— not more than half way across. They had to take down their 
useless sail, and toil as they best could with the oars. At three 
o'clock, long before sunrise, they were still at the mercy of the 
hurricane ; sheets of white spray dashing over the side and 
prow of the boat. 

How they must have missed their dear Lord ! How often 
would they think of the last storm on the Lake, when they had 
Him with them " asleej) in the vessel." Probably, with tears in 
their eyes, they would gaze in the direction of the hill up which 
He had gone, saying, ' Oh ! that He could now see us.' Better 
still, ' "Would that He were now with us ! Would that we 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 225 

could wake Him as before from His pillow, and obtain His needed 
help.' 

But had Jesus really forgotten them ? Was His hand 
shortened that it could not save ; was His ear heavy that it 
could not hear ? 

No ! His loving eye was every moment upon them. He 
was watching every wave that swept over their boat. As He 
knelt on the dewy grass of the mountain, though He was not 
praying with them. He was praying for them, that theh faith 
fail not. 

But what is this ? There is a break in the clouds, and the pale 
moonlight shows a figure moving calmly along the top of the 
water. It is approaching slowly towards them. Who, or what 
can it be ? "It is a spirit," they say one to another: — 'It is 
some evil angel walking on the waves ! ' As the wind roared and 
moaned around them, and the sea yawned beneath them, they 
dropped their oars and " cried out for fear." 

How glad they must have been when they heard a well-known 
voice, amid the dash of the billows, "Be of good cheer, it is I, he 
not afraid." 

It is their gracious Master ; they do not mind the storm any 
more. That voice is enough. 

" Bid me come unto Thee on the water," said Peter. 

" Come," was the reply ; and the bold disciple, drenched and 
dripping with the spray, walked on this strange pathway to go 
to Jesus. 

At first he was fearless ; but when he heard the wind sigh- 
ing, and looked at the black chasms at his feet, he took his eye 
off his Lord. " He was afraid and began to sink." 

What did he do ? Perhaps we might have thought in his 
terror, he would call to his brother Andrew, or to strong-minded 
James, or to kind-hearted John, to throw him a rope, or stretch 
out an oar. 

No ! Peter knows better. He looks to none of those with 
him in the boat. Having taken his eye for a moment off Jesus, 

p 



2,6 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

he lifts it again towards Jesus ; and even as lie was sinking he 
cried, " Master, save me ! else I must perish." 

His Lord put out the same loving hand that had healed so 
many with its touch. Then He gently rebuked Peter, and took 
him into the vessel. In a moment the wind ceased ; the waves 
were rocked to rest. Before they reached the other side, the 
moon was shining on the placid Lake, and as they anchored their 
little hoat on the strip of sand at Bethsaida, the sun was break- 
ing in the Eastern sky. " Truly Thou art the Son of God," was 
the saying of each one of that crew to their great and gracious 
Saviour. 

I am sure, whatever else they might forget, they never would 
fail to remember that storm, and the Voice that hushed it. This 
very time next year, they would be tossed on a more terrible sea 
of trial, far from the Lake of Galilee. But at that next Pass- 
over season, when the full moon was shining on the brook 
Kedron and on the Mount of Olives, would they not call to mind 
the moonlight on Tiberias, and the kind Master who came and 
stilled both the tempest and their fears, and brought them safe to 
land? 



XXXVI. 

^e preaclb^s in t!je ^gnagogiie at (iTapfrnaum* 

It was the Jewish Sabbath morning when the disciples and their 
Master reached the shore. They would likely go straight to 
Peter's house, and there take breakfast. 

How much would they need such refreshment ! Call to mind, 
young readers, how Jesus had been occupied the last twenty-four 
hours. He had gone for rest, the morning before, to the other 
side of the Lake. In the early part of the day He preached to 
the crowd and healed the sick. In the afternoon He fed the 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 227 

five thousand. At night He climbed the mountain for prayer. 
But even that had to be left, in order to go to the help of His 
storm-tossed disciples. His eyes had never been closed in sleep 
all night long. 

And now, after a hurried repast. He and His disciples repair 
at once to attend public worship in the " White Synagogue" on the 
hillside. 

Are we not constantly reminded how untiring Jesus was in 
doing His Father's will ! It was His one thought. The first 
saying of His early youth was echoed all through His life — 
" Wist ye not that I must he about My Fathers business ? " 
Shortly after entering on His public labours, His words are, 
" My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to finish 
His worh." And near to the close of His ministry He expressed 
this same life-motto in another form — " / must worh the worhs 
of Him that sent Me while it is day. The night cometh wherein 
no man can worh." 

On reaching the sjniagogue, it is crowded. No wonder ; for 
the news of the great miracle of the day before has already 
spread far and wide. 

There were numbers there who had yesterday sat on the green 
grass, and had ate of the loaves and fishes. There were many 
others from Capernaum and Bethsaida and Chorazin. Boats, too, 
had come in, the previous evening, from the more distant parts of 
the Lake. They had all gathered with one object, to see the 
great Wonder-worker. 

Jesus Himself is already in the place of worship. He is seated 
in the upper end, near to the Ark. The first part of the service 
being ended, He addresses the congregation, as we found Him 
doing ui the synagogue of Nazareth. He speaks to them of the 
subject nearest His own heart. 

You may remember I previously mentioned, that when in 
Palestine, among the blocks of stone and marble which strew the 
ground at Tel Hum, matted with brambles and thorns, I saw 
what are supposed, with great probability, to be the very ruins of 
this " White Synagogue." I may add, what is remarkable, that 



228 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

the lintel of the main entrance to the building is also lying there, 
amongst other fragments of pillars and friezes, with the pot of 
manna sculptured upon it. Some have ingeniously supposed 
that that lintel, with its carved emblem, may have suggested to 
Jesus the principal subject of His present discourse — the " True 
Bread from Heaven " — " the meat which endureth to everlasting 
life;" making the contrast — " Your fathers did eat manna in the 
wilderness, and are dead." I think, however, it is more natural, 
rather to connect the topic of the sermon with the feeding of the 
five thousand on the previous day. He would lead them away 
from thoughts about the earthly bread which He had then given 
them, to Himself, the true " Bread of Life." He knew that many 
had come that forenoon, not anxious about their souls, or wishing 
to become good and holy, but hoping for another feast of loaves 
and fishes, expecting the same mh-acle to be repeated. " Ye seek 
me" He said, " because ye did eat of the loaves, and were filled." 

He tells them that would bs a very poor gift indeed, apart 
from something greatly better. He asks them not to labour for 
" the bread which perisheth, hut for that which endureth to everlast- 
ing life." 

They are displeased at these sayings. They do not like to 
hear Him calling Himself " the Bread of heaven," and " the Giver 
of eternal life." When He told them, still further, that God was 
His Father, and that His Father gave Him power to raise up at 
the last day, they became more angry than ever. They did not 
care for these spiritual things. They wanted, above everything 
else, some great king, with pomp and purple, to mount the throne 
of Judea, and deliver them from the power of the Eomans. 

Among His hearers were hostile Pharisees from Jerusalem, 
who had come, all that long way, for the base purpose of 
" entangling Him in His talk." But even some, who had till now 
been the friends of Jesus in Gahlee, were beginning also to look 
coldly on Him. Indeed, we are told "from that hour, many (He 
had trusted) went back, and walked no more with Him." . 

The sky was too surely gathering clouds, and the disc of tha 
Glorious Sun obscured ! 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 



229 



Think of Jesus that forenoon, as He went outside the syna- 
gogue, feeling that saddest of sorrows — old, warm friends threaten- 
ing one by one to desert Him ! 

It was at this moment, when wearied after yesterday's long 
hours of labour, and with the sleepless night which had followed, 
hearing these hard words and seeing these scornful looks, that He 
turns with a deep sigh to the fishermen-friends at His side. He 
says, " Will ye also go away f Are ye also tired of your Master, 
longing to get back again to your boats and nets and places of 
custom ? " 

Peter, his eyes filled with loving tears, answers for himself and 
for all the others, " Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the 
words of eternal life. We believe, and are sure, that Thou art the 
Holy One of God." [Eevised Version.] 

These words must have been to Him "like cold water to a 
thirsty soul." 

There evidently, at this same hour, was a new and a very 
different cause of sorrow which filled much of the mind of Jesus 
— a new cloud, deeper, darker, sadder than any that had yet 
d imm ed His beams ; alas ! a cloud that had no " silver lining." 
In this respect a far more terrible trial was present to Him than 
the death of John. John He knew was in heaven, and He would 
soon, very soon, again meet there His loved and lost one. 

There was one of His own chosen twelve — one whom He had 
selected as " a friend " — who was now lifting up his heel against 
Him, and whose future was one of gloom and despair ! 

Poor Judas ! He had helped, the day before, to feed the 
hungry thousands. He had been one of the crew who had wit- 
nessed the stilling of the night-storm. But awful thoughts were 
beginning to take possession of his soul, Jesus knows that he will 
hy-and-ly hasely letray Him ! Amid the many crushing burdens 
which at this time the Master's kind heart had to bear, this was 
by far the heaviest. He could not keep it to Himself In tones 
of deepest grief He says, " Have nx)t I chosen you twelve, hut one of 
vou is a de'oil .^ " 



2 30 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Judas, perhaps more than any of the others, had been looking 
to Jesus as the Founder of a grand kingdom in Judea. He had 
hitherto nothing in his possession save the bag or purse which 
carried a few Eoman and Jewish coins not worth thinking about. 
His love of money had led him, perhaps, to dream of great riches 
— bags of gold instead of a few pieces of brass and silver. But 
now that Jesus had spoken so slightingly of " the bread which 
perisheth," he seems to see all his greedy schemes fading away. 
That sad hatred to his Master begins, which ended so miserably 
in " the, Field of Blood" 



XXXVII. 

I^e goes to Egre, Sibon, anti ©fcapiolis. 

Jesus seems to have remained some days longer with His dis- 
ciples at Capernaum, working miracles and healing the sick. 

He was beloved still by many ; but, alas ! the hatred and 
opposition to which I have referred, were manifestly also on the 
increase. Strange indeed it seems, that so much as one unkind 
look or word should have been given to the great and good 
Physician, who had no thoughts in His heart save those of com- 
passion, and who, during the past weeks, had turned the whole 
district into a " Bethesda " — a " House of Mercy ! " 

Satan seemed to have stirred up this enmity. His principal 
agents in the evil work were those same Pharisees from Judea. 
They were continuing to do all they could, and only too success- 
fully, to turn the villagers and citizens of the Lake against the 
meek and lowly One. They hated Him for saying He could 
forgive sins. They hated Him for making light of their traditions 
and rites, such as washing their hands when sitting down to 
meals. They hated Him, as we previously noted, for what they 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 231 

tliouglit was a breaking of tlie Sabbath, when He allowed His 
disciples, as they passed through, a ripe field of grain, to pluck 
some ears of the yellow corn, and rub them in their hands. 
They hated Him for dining with pubKcans and sinners ; and for 
daring to take one of these publicans and make him an Apostle 
and friend. Perhaps they hated Him, above all, for His plain. 
speaking, in calling themselves " Hypocrites." 

Oh, He could not bear to see these men making so much of 
mere outward things — adorning the tombs of their prophets, 
cleaning their cups, basins, and drinking vessels ; plunging their 
arms up to the elbows in water before eating — while they 
neglected pureness of heart and holiness of life. Their ambition 
was to s&eirrh to be good. His desire was to bring men to ho good. 

I wish you to note particularly this sudden and sad change of 
feeling towards Jesus, for it forms a turning point in His life. 
Not long before, when the disciples had gone up to the hill near 
Capernaum to fetch Him down, they could give as a reason " All 
men seek for thee ; " and when He did obey their request, He 
was followed by eager, louring, weeping crowds. IsTow it was 
painfully different. Few seemed to seek for Him or care for Him. 
The Pharisees were ready, if they could, to stone Him ; the syna- 
gogue was shut against Him. Herod and his courtiers, too, were 
secretly jealous and afraid of Him. Some devoted friends, aware 
of the peril He was in, had advised Him, for a time at least, to 
leave the district altogether. He does so : and directs His foot- 
steps towards the region in which the great Elijah found a similar 
refuge in times of trouble ; — I mean the country of Phoenicia, a 
narrow strip of territory north-west of Palestine, between the 
ridge of Lebanon and the sea. 

Crossing the mountains of East Galilee, Jesus never paused tiU 
He and His Kttle band have reached the borders of distant Tyre. 

He was the less averse to leave for a while the busy region 
round the Lake, as He was anxious for some leisure to instruct 
His Apostles in the great work they would have to carry on after 
He had left the world. 

Such times of rest and quiet, however, would seem with Him 



232 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



well-nigh impossible, l^ovr, as on former occasions, the fame of 
His mighty deeds had gone before Him, so that, as the sacred 
^vriter says, " He could not be hid." 

There was one woman especially, whose story of faith is beauti- 
fully told us. Either in some house where Jesus was seated, or 
else after He had just departed from its threshold, this " woman 
of Syro-Plioenicia " ran after Him, and implored His aid in behalf 
of her child. She was a heathen. Not only a heathen, but one 
of the Canaanites, — sprung from the nation that had so long 
fought with Israel in Canaan, and inflicted so many cruelties 
upon them. 

Yet she had evidently heard of the fame and miraales of the 
Prophet of Nazareth ; and, from what had been reported to her, 
felt sure that, Canaanite as she was, He would not reject her. 

She pleads with Him as " the Son of David " to " have mercy 
upon her, and heal her daughter." 

Jesus for a time is silent. He gives her no answer. 

The disciples, wishing to get rid of her, beg that He will effect 
zX once the cure she asks, and " send her away." They regard 
her presence only as a trouble. 

Their Master, in His reply, does not seem to afford her much 
encouragement, though it is with a gentle voice He says, " 1 am 
not sent, hut to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." 

Falling at His feet, she cried, " Lord, help me ! " 

But even still, instead of being melted with this new fervent 
pleading, He speaks in reply (not with His usual kindness and 
tenderness) of the Jews as " children" and of the Gentiles as 
" dogs ; " animals which, next to swine, the Hebrews abhorred. 
He says, " It will not do to give to dogs the bread which belongs to 
the children." 

Most people would have been grievously hurt at this. We 
expect to see her leaving in despair, — going home again, sick at 
heart, to her sad and anxious watchings. But she is not repelled 
by the hard saying ; or rather her faith has a ready answer. She 
replies, 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 233 

" Yes, Lord ; I willingiy put myself in the dogs' place. They 
only have the crumbs to eat which fall under the Master's table. 
I am a poor Gentile ; I am not worthy to have the bread. But I 
am more than thankful if Thou wilt let me have the dogs' por- 
tion, and pick up the crumbs which faR at Thy feet." 

What an example of simple trust and earnest pleading ! She 
seems to say in the spirit of him who would not let the wrestling 
angel go without a blessing, — 

" Master, speak ! Thy servant heareth, 
Waiting for Thy gracious word, 
Longing for Thy voice that cheereth ; 

Master ! let it now be heard. 
With the mxisic of Thy voice 
Speak ! and bid my child rejoice ! 

" Master, speak ! I kneel before Thee, 

Listening, longing, waiting still ; 
Oh, how long shall I implore Thee 

This petition to fulfil ! 
Hast Thou not one word for me, 
Must my prayer unanswered be '? 

" Master, speak ! though least and lowest, 
Let me not unheard depart ; 
Master, speak ! for Oh, Thou knowest 

All the yearning of my heart. 
I am listening, Lord, for Thee ; 
Master, speak, Oh speak to me ! " ^ 

The flood of love and mercy which had long been pent up in 
the heart of Jesus at last breaks forth. The Master does at 
last speak in tones ot wonted compassion, — 

" woman" He says, ^' great is thy faith. Be it unto thee even 
as thou wilt." 

When she went home, her daughter lay on the bed with the 
peaceful smile of a perfect cure on her face. She was a sufierer 
no more. 

1 " Ministry of Song." 



2 34 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

XXXVIII. 

I^e returns to tlje 5£ast of i\]t Hake* 

Jesus evidently did not remain long away from the Land of 
Israel. Indeed I do not think it is likely that He would do more 
than merely cross the heathen border. He may possibly have 
seen at a distance the temples and shrines of Baal, Ashteroth, 
and Hercides, the false deities which were there worshipped. He 
must have felt a strange interest in being within Gentile territory. 
As He gazed from the heights upon the blue waters of the ' Great 
Sea/ could He fail to think of " the Isles of Ghittim" and the 
bright and beautiful lands far beyond the distant horizon, whose 
inhabitants were then sunk in idolatry, bowing to false gods of 
wood and stone ; but who, in the course of ages, would come 
to love His name and be ready to suffer for His sake ? 

Be this as it may. He and His disciples slowly retrace their 
steps to Galilee. I say slowly, for they could not travel far at a 
time, as it was now the month of May, and the heat at that 
season was very great. 

Crossing probably through one of the valleys of the Lebanon, 
with its gnarled firs and hoary cedars ; and skirting the base of 
Mount Hermon, they would come down by the eastern bank 
of the Jordan to a half-heathen region called Decapolis. 

Decapolis is a Greek word which means " ten cities." The 
chief of these — Gadara, Hippo, and Bella — were principally 
peopled by Greeks. The district was ruled, as I have already 
told you, by Bhilip. 

When Jesus was last here, you may remember the people re- 
jected Him, and prayed Him to depart from their shores. The cure 
He had wrought, however, on the Gadara demoniac, doubtless 
gave Him now a much better reception. How could the in- 
habitants help being attracted to the Great and Gracious Bhy- 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 



235 



sician, when they saw, in the perfect cure effected on the man 
who had been the terror of their neighbourhood, proof of His 
divine and wondrous power ? A fierce lion had been tamed into 
a gentle lamb. 

Notwithstanding that it was harvest-time, when the people 
were busy with their crops, they flocked out to see Jesus and 
hear Him. They seem even to have remained nigh to where 
He was, by night as well as by day, — not returning to their 
homes, but (at the season when no rain fell) sleeping under the 
bright stars, and making the grass their couch. Doubtless He 
and His disciples did the same. 

He wrought many miracles among them. We are specially 
told by St. Matthew (xv. 30) that "Jesus went up into a moun- 
tain." And then he describes the crowds who carried their sick 
and diseased and dying friends up the hillside. It is a striking 
picture. Doubtless St. Matthew himself saw it, and it had fixed 
itself deeply in his mind. The Saviour, he informs us, was seated 
on the green turf. Down below were seen numbers toiling up 
the steep ascent. Some guiding the blind, some carrying the 
sick and the lame on mats or on litters. He even speaks 
of them " casting their friends down " at Jesus' feet : — as if 
each new company was in haste to be the first to listen to 
the healing word or to receive the healing touch. He cured 
them all. 

As the crowd had followed Him for days together. He repeated 
in their case a miracle, like the one of which I have already told 
you, by feeding four thousand on seven loaves and a few fishes. 
You can think, therefore, once more of a similar scene to that 
at Bethsaida : — the people seated in rows, with their harvest 
dresses on, and their faces bronzed with the sun : — the disciples, 
as before, going up and down the dense ranks, and giving them 
not only as much as they could eat, but again fiUing their large 
wicker baskets with the fragments that were over. 

The inhabitants of this Eastern region had no great favour for 
the Jews on the other side of the Lake ; but they could not with- 
hold their astonishment at the divine power exercised by the 



236 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Prophet of Nazareth ; so " they glorified " the God of the Jews — 
" the God of Israel." 

The last week could not fail to teach a new and startling 
lesson to Christ's own Apostles, though it was one they were slow 
to learn. Their Master had been preaching and working cures in 
Gentile lands. He had thereby given them their first instruction 
— and that too by His own example — in the great command He 
was afterwards to lay upon them, " Go ye into all the world, and 
preach the Gospel to every creature." 



XXXIX 
l^e goes to tfje roasts of Cesarea Pf)iltppu 

Aftee remaining some time in the region on the east of the 
Lake, Jesus crosses by boat along with the disciples to Magdala. 

Magdala, you may remember, was a village between Caper- 
naum and Tiberias, but much nearer Tiberias. It was situated at 
the south side of the chain of rocky hiUs which hem in the rich 
plain of Gennesaret: a miserable enough handful of hovels at the 
present day ; so miserable I had no desire to enter it. But 
it must have been beautiful in the time of Christ, embosomed in* 
its grove of palms. It looked right across what must have been 
the most fertile spot almost on earth — " The Plain" as it was 
called by the Lake-side people — with its fields of varied grain, 
its flowers of varied hue, and its birds of varied plumage. 
Glorious Mount Hermon rose in the background. 

The " clouds " I have described, which had compelled Jesus 
to take refuge elsewhere, were still hanging over the old scene 
of His labour, darkly and heavily as ever. The Pharisees, 
who had a few weeks before driven Him from Capernaum, were 
ready still to do Him all the harm they could, and to injure the 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 237 

effect of His miracles and teacliing. They had got the Sadducees, 
the Scribes, and the Herodians to side with them. These be- 
longed generally to the upper classes. They doubtless had spies 
to watch His movements. No sooner did they see the well- 
known boat crossing the Lake than they hurried round the path 
fringing the shore, and were at the little natural harbour of 
Magdala, waiting to receive Him. 

We are told " they asked of Him a sign." What did they 
mean by such a request ? 

They wished Him to perform some mighty works, in evidence 
of His claims to be ".a Teacher sent from God." 

Jesus declines to do so. He knew that they desired this, not 
to convince them of the truth of what He taught and what He 
did, but rather that they might try to discover something false 
and unreal in His miracles. He knew too well that the most 
wonderful deeds He could perform would not soften or remove 
their hatred. Even curing another demoniac, or raising from the 
dead another ruler's daughter or widow's son, might only increase 
their opposition. He said, on another occasion, " If they hear not 
Moses and the prophets, neither will they he persuaded although one 
rose from the dead." 

St. Mark tells us that, when Christ refused to give them this 
sign. He heaved a sigh. It told how deeply He felt being thus 
treated by these narrow minds and hard hearts, on the very 
shores, too, which once so befriended Him. 

Seeing, then, that it would only grieve His own spirit, as well 
as the hearts of His disciples, were He to wait longer amid these 
unkind looks and angry sneers, the Master at once enters, pro- 
bably towards the afternoon, the same boat which had brought 
Himself and His friends across the Lake. Hoisting the sail, they 
take a more northerly course. Passing Bethsaida, Capernaum, 
and Chorazin on the way, they land about sunset near the place 
where the first miracle of the loaves was performed. 

There must have been many a pang of sorrow in the human 
soul of Jesus during that voyage. He was bidding farewell for 
ever to Galilee as the scene of His preaching. He might pay it 



238 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

afterwards, as He did, a passing visit, but it would never again be 
His liome. A few weeks before. He was hailed as King, and 
might have been borne in triumph to a throne. Now He felt He 
was a lonely, deserted Pilgrim, escaping from those who had 
become cruelly faithless. You may remember an expression in 
one of the Psalms — " The sun hnoweth his going down." In 
another sense, and with a very different meaning in regard to the 
great Light of the World, was that saying now true ! 

There was one striking miracle (illustrated on the opposite page) 
which Jesus now performed on a blind man. at Bethsaida- Julias. 

The frequency of cures performed on the blind, recorded 
m the Gospels and Acts, is not anything strange to those who 
have been in the East. The loss of sight is there a much more 
common calamity than it is here. Some attribute it to the 
climate ; some to the glare of the sun. A writer mentions that 
" in Jaffa every tenth person is said to be blind." In the present 
case, we are told nothing whatever regarding the wretched being 
himself who was now brought into the presence of Jesus. We 
may fancy him a poor, ignorant, half-naked outcast. Yet, though 
unable to put the thought in words, doubtless, with all his igno- 
rance and degradation, he could feel, and feel deeply, in common 
with his fellow-sufferers, the plaintive sigh the great Master of 
Song puts into the lips of Israel's blind Judge — 

" Total eclipse ! no sun, no moon. 
All dark amidst the blaze of noon ; 
O Glorious Light ! no cheering ray 
To glad my eyes with welcome day ! 
Why thus deprived — Thy prime decree ? 
Sun, moon, and stars are dark to me ! " ^ 

One of the main points, if not the main point, of interest in 
the miracle, is Jesus (before performing the cure), taking the help- 
less creature " hy the hand," as He " led him out of the town," 




'He took the blind man by the hand, and led him out of the tow7i " (Mark 

viii. 23) (ppposite page 238) 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 



239 



away from the hard thoughts and unkind speeches that might 
have been uttered aloud in the throng of street or bazaar ; some of 
which, indeed, may have already fallen on the ear of the Gracious 
Healer. " And they hring a blind man unto Him, and hesought 
Him to touch him. And He took the blind man by the 
hand" (Mark viii. 22, 23). 

Oh, most touching picture ! We have heard of kings and 
queens stooping over the couch of beggary, or fetching water to 
dying lips. But here is the Lord and Giver of Life and Light 
linking His hand with that of one, alike in mind and body — 
inwardly as well as outwardly — in deepest daekness ! 

The man was restored. May we not hope that his eyes were 
opened to nobler visions than those of lake and river and moun- 
tain around him ? 

Jesus and His disciples now moved further north still. 

Had it not been for the sorrowful feelings I have described, 
this could not fail to be a very interesting journey. The road or 
track would lead along the banks of the river Jordan and lake 
Merom. They continued till they reached one of the loveliest 
places in the Holy Land. It is a city called in the Gospels 
Cesarea Fhilippi, so named by Philip, in honour of his master, 
Augustus Csesar. Its ruins are now called Banias. I believe, at 
the time at which Jesus visited it, it was one of those highland 
or upland resorts, to which the Lake people were in the habit of 
going in the heat of summer, when their own shores were burn- 
ing like a furnace. It was pleasant for them to be there refreshed 
with the breezes from Hermon, and to hear the streams, fed so 
copiously by the melting snows, singing their way down the 
deUs on their way to the rushing Jordan. Above the grotto in 
the rock, out of which the sacred river flows, Herod had erected a 
temple of fine white marble. 

I shaU never forget the pleasant afternoon I spent there, by 
the side of these streams, and under the groups of old olives. 
The wild bean especially, among other plentiful flowers, was 
scenting the fields close by. Hills there are in every part of the 



240 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Holy Land, but none such as you have at Banias. You are there 
at the very base of what they call in Syriac, " the Kingly Moun- 
tain ; " though the top is not visible, owing to the ' spurs ' or bold 
ridges it throws out on all sides. It was pleasing to be able to 
trace the footsteps of Jesus in such a place ! He who discoursed 
so often about the beautiful things in nature — the morning and 
evening sky, the vine, the sower, the fowls of heaven — would not 
be insensible to the glory and grandeur of scenes like this. After 
disputing with Pharisees, Sadducees, and Herodians, would not 
the rush of the arrowy river, as it bounded from a cave green 
with moss and fern, sound like music in His ear ? That of which 
Moses had a distant view from Pisgah, He was gazing upon close 
by — " that goodly mountain and Lebanon." The cliffs and rocks 
would look like the walls of a great temple " not made with hands." 
I shall tell you in our next, more about what Jesus said and 
did in this choice region of Palestine. 



XL. 

^t is confrssrti tig M% apostles to \sz tije <Son of tte 
Hifaing 6ot( 

Jesus does not seem to have entered the town of Cesarea Philippi. 
Indeed, He always avoided, when He could, even the working of 
miracles within walled cities. Both in His mighty deeds and in 
His teaching He greatly preferred green fields and mountain-sides 
and the pure air of heaven, Tiberias was the Eoman capital of 
the Lake, filled with splendid buildings and costly villas ; but we 
never hear of Him going into it, or once gazing on the " Golden 
palace " of its proud master. 

So it was now with Cesarea Philippi. He went to what is called 
in the Gospels its " coasts ; " that is, as we explained in reference 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 



to Bethleliem, some hamlets or villages in the outskirts ; perhaps 
pitching His tent, as travellers do still, on the mossy banks of the 
sacred stream, amid the terebinths and blossoming oleanders. 

As the gracious Master was walking in His disciples' company, 
somewhere nigh this spot, thinking of the clouds of sorrow that 
were mustering over His head. He put the question to them — 
" Wlio do men say that I, the Son of Man, am ? " 

The Apostles would, doubtless, have dearly liked, could they 
have done so, to reply, " Oh, all men believe in Thee as the 
Messiah of the Jews." 

But they felt they must speak the truth. He had asked them 
a simple question, and they must give Him a truthful answer. 

They told Him what they knew from mingling with people on 
the Lake-side. Some said He was John the Baptist, whom Herod 
had slain, now risen from the dead. Others thought He was the 
great Elijah come back in his fiery chariot, with power over life 
and death. Others thought, from the kindness He showed to the 
poor and distressed .and sorrowful — from His gentle ways and 
loving words — that He must be the tender, weeping Jeremiah. 
The Jews thought this latter prophet had hidden the sacred Ark 
and the Altar of Incense when the King of Babylon destroyed the 
Temple, and some of them now imagined he had risen from the 
grave in order to set these up again. 

Jesus knew too well about all these poor human guesses with 
regard to Him, and how far short they came of the truth. He 
listens in silence. He made no remark as to what His faithful 
followers had now said. But He wishes above all to know what 
their own thoughts and feelings are. He knew well that they 
were personally much attached to Him. He did not need to be 
assured of that. But He was anxious from their own lips, to hear 
their opinion regarding His claims to be Messiah and the Son 
of God. Could it be that they entertained no nobler views and 
ideas than others, about His character, dignity, and destiny ? 

Perhaps with the tear in His eye, and fetching another hea^'y 
sigh, He adds to His former question, " But whom say ye that I 



242 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Peter, in tlie name of all the rest, has a ready answer. What 
golden words they were ! He does not say " we hope " or 
" we think," but 

" Thou ART the Christ, the Son of the livtng God." 

Jesus made the well-known reply to Peter and to the Church 
in ever age. He points to Himself as the living Rock on which 
that Church was built, against which the powers and the gates of 
hell would never prevail. 

He told Peter how specially pleased He was with his declara- 
tion. Indeed, from that hour. He gave this Apostle, hitherto 
called Simoro, the new name of " Peter" (the Greek for the Hebrew 
word " Cei^has ") — the name, you may remember, Jesus, at their 
earliest meeting, had promised to bestow upon His ardent dis- 
ciple. The noble faith which he had shown in his present con- 
fession had made him fit to be one of the fouudation-stowes of the 
great spiritual building. It was as if His Lord had said, ' Simon ! 
thou hast given Me My true name and title — " the Son of the 
living God ; " 1 will give to thee also a new designation in 
token of My approval, and in order that in all future years thou 
mayest call this hour to mind, " Verily I say unto thee, That 
thou art Peter." ' 

In that moment of joy, when the faith of His dear disciples 
was secure and strong, Jesus takes the opportunity of telling 
what must have been to them sad and awful tidings. Deeper 
clouds still were brooding in the distant horizon. The announce- 
ment He makes is none other than this : — that He, the Bright 
Sun of Glory, is destined to undergo an awful eclipse, — that He 
is ere long to be given up to cruel suffering and death ! Yes, He, 
the " Prince of Life," is to he killed ! 

I say again, dear readers, what a shock would these tidings be 
to the faithful ones who were now walking by their Lord's side ! 
How the gentle John would be saddened ! How the thoughtful 
Thomas would be staggered ! How would all the others be dumb 
with terror and amazement ! 

One of their number, however, cannot keep silent. Always 



GATHERING CLOUDS. - 243 

ready to speak out his mind, Peter, with an unbecoming boldness, 
tells bis Master that He dislikes the thought of His going to 
Jerusalem thus to suffer and die. It would be contrary to all his 
ideas of the Messiah spoken of by Psalmists and Prophets — " the 
Mighty One," who was to be " set as King on His holy hill of 
Zion," and whose "name was to endure for ever." With this 
earthly throne in his eye, the Apostle gave way for the moment 
to his natural rashness. He said, " This, my Master, can never 
happen to Thee. Forbid the thought that ' the Son of the living 
God ' should ever be thus cruelly treated ! " 

Jesus had to deliver a severe rebuke to him for venturing to 
speak so " unadvisedly with his lips." 

And now, as the gates of Cesarea Philippi are in view, a crowd 
begins to gather round Jesus. Some in this crowd may possibly 
have been old hearers from the Lake, whose once ardent love to 
Him, as in the case of others, had cooled. They had sought Him 
for the bread which perisheth, and imagined they might secure 
worldly gain to themselves by becoming His disciples. 

It may have been specially to these He spake words which 
occur at this time, and which are among the most solemn He 
ever uttered — " What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole 
world and lose his own soul ? " He would, perhaps, also feel such 
a saying very needful to be addressed to those dwelling in a half- 
Greek, half-Eoman city, where there were many wicked scenes 
witnessed and many wicked deeds done, not familiar to the simple 
Jewish townsmen on the Lake. The very name Banias (Panias) 
spoke of the Greek god Pan, who was thought to live with his 
fabled wood-nymphs close by, and was worshipped with sinful 
rites. 

I shaU speak presently of a scene of wonderful glory which 
took place six days later, and was a fitting close to this brie.-^ 
retirement to beautiful Banias. 



244 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

XLI. 

%t ascrntis tfje JKount of ^ransficjuration* 

It is evening. The sun is setting over tlie Great Sea, as four 
figures are seen in the dusk, going slowly, first up the wooded 
valley north of Cesarea Philippi, and then climbing one of the 
bare, grassy slopes of what St. Luke calls " The Mountain " — the 
great mountain of Palestine — in other words. Mount Hermon. 

As they ascend higher and higher, they are gradually lost from 
view in the shades of night. It was Jesus, and His three favoured 
friends, Peter, James, and John. 

Six days before, the Master had told all the Apostles about His 
approaching sufferings and death. He saw that they were much 
cast down at the sad thought. Therefore, in order to sustain 
their faith. He is about to give to these selected three, as repre- 
sentatives of the others, a glimpse of His glory. 

We have named this section of our volume "Gathering Clouds." 
Though retaining the title, we have to mark here a sudden rift in 
the sky, and a burst of radiance, glorious, though transient. 

There is no story in all the life of Jesus more wonderful or 
more beautiful than this. It is the story of what is called " The 
Transfiguration!' 

The word means that Jesus was changed in His outward appear- 
ance. As we proceed, you will hear what that change was. 

Let us foUow, then, in thought, these four p3rsonages. "We do 
not know, and never can know, what spur or ridge of Hermon 
they ascended. I remember well, when at Banias, looking up 
" the Kingly Mountain," and seeing more than one round grassy 
shoulder of the hill which might possibly have been the spot. 

We may try and picture the scene. It is now night. No 
human footstep is heard. The shepherds have folded their flocks ; 
the birds have gone to theh nests. No sound falls on the ear, 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 



245 



save, perhaps, the occasional hooting of the otvI, or the cry of the 
jackal, or the murmur of the streams swollen with the melting 
snows, rushing down to the Jordan. The bright stars have all 
come out, and are gemming the sky with their lustre. 

Mount Hermon is to be made presently a palace of glory to 
receive its King ; and these twinkling stars, like silver and golden 
lamps, are lighting His way to it. 

I cannot tell you whether Jesus and His disciples were near 
the top of the mountain; but I think, from St. Mark's words, 
they must have been within view of the summit. At all events, 
they must have caught sight of the snow which lies during sum- 
mer as well as winter on its higher crests. The pale moonlight 
was falKng upon it. 

I think it adds much to the grandeur of the scene I am to 
speak of, thus to suppose that it happened at night. 

Perhaps you may ask me, how do I imagine it took place then, 
and not by day ? I answer, because we are told that, overcome 
with fatigue, the Apostles were "heavy with sleep ;" also that "the 
next day " (the next morning) " they came down from the hill " 
(Luke ix. 37). 

I may add another reason. It was at night Jesus generally 
went to some solitary place to pray ; and we are specially told 
that He was engaged in prayer now. " He went up into the 
mountain to pray, and as He prayed" (Luke ix. 29). 

This last statement forms the first part of the night-picture on 
which our eyes fall. A lonely figure is seen bending on the dewy 
grass. Jesus was then and there pleading with His Father, for 
Himself, for the Church, for the World — for you and for me. And 
it was " while He was praying " that all at once His countenance 
became radiant with glory. He who is " Brighter " than the 
brightest earthly luminaries, never shone with such dazzling 
lustre as now. "His face did shine AS the sun." This brightness 
spread to His very garments. " His raiment," we read, " was white 
and glistering ; " — " so as no fuller on earth could white them ; " 
— whiter than yon white snow up the mountain on which the 
moonbeams are falling (Mark ix. 3). He was like the Angel 



246 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

John saw, in the Book of Eevelation, "standing in the sun." 
Perhaps all around where He was kneeling, — the thorny Lushes, 
the green sward, the wild flowers, — would be lighted up with the 
same strange brilliance. 

But who are these two figures who appear in the midst of the 
brightness ? They are not the Apostles ; for Peter, James, and 
John are all three fast asleep on the long grass close by. 

It is Moses and Elijah, two of the greatest names of Old 
Testament Scripture. Who does not like to read the story of 
Moses, and the bush of flaming fire, or waving his miraculous rod, 
or standing amid the thunders and lightnings on the Mount with 
God ; and of Elijah, with his ravens at the brook, or offering his 
sacrifice on Mount Carmel, or ascending in his fiery chariot ? 

But whence have they come, and for what intent ? 

Could they have left their bright thrones in heaven, where the 
one had been fifteen hundred years, and the other a thousand, to 
descend all the way to the earth ? 

Yes, they have gladly done so, in order to give glory to Jesus, 
and to bear witness to Him as the Son of God and Saviour of lost 
and fallen man.^ 

The Apostles, while sleeping, suddenly feel a strange unearthly 
light playing on their eyelids. Is it a dream ? They suddenly 
start up. For a moment they are almost blinded with the lustre. 
When they are able to look around, on what or on whom do you 
think their eyes would first fall ? 

Yes, I am sure it would be on their dear Lord and Master. 

But how changed He is ! No one now would recognise His 
common dress, soiled with the constant journeyings, it was so 
brilliant. No one would know His face, with its marks of weari- 
ness and sleeplessness, care and sorrow ; it was so glorious 
and shining. Both dress and face are not only lighted, but light 
seems to come from them like a Sun giving forth rays. 

The astonished spectators next behold Moses and Elias. 

They are bright also ; but not so Bright as the Figure between. 

^ See the picture in our frontispiece. 



The One has the glory of the SUN, the two others have only the 
glory of the stars. 

The Apostles do not require to ask the question, " What are 
these arrayed in lohite robes, and whence came they." Though they 
had, of course, never seen these famous saints before, they appear 
to know at once who they were. They name both of them. How 
interested, surely, they must have been in gazing on the glorified 
persons of those whose history had been taught them from their 
earliest infancy ! 

Hitherto all seems to have been solemn silence. But the still- 
ness of midnight is now broken ; for these two bright messengers 
are speaking to Jesus, and Jesus is speaking to them. 

What do you supjoose would most likely form the subject of 
their converse ? 

Would it be the glory of the beautiful scene ? The roof of 
that great Temple of ISTature, with its thousand star-lamps, and 
high Hermon, like a great white altar ? 

Or, more likely, would it be about the bright heaven far above 
all these stars, from which Moses and Elias had come ? Would 
it be concerning the great God of Heaven and His holy angels — 
the pastures of the blessed and the living fountains of waters ? 

Or, perhaps, more probably still, would it be regarding the glories 
of the Master's Kingdom ? About His dominion being from sea to 
sea ; the kings of Tarshish and the Isles, the kings of Sheba and 
Seba coming from afar to bow before Him and offer Him gifts ? 

It was not with reference to any one of these. 

Strange to say, their converse was about Death. 

Death ! You would think the very last thing of which citizens 
of heaven, where death is unknown, would come to speak, or lihe 
to speak. 

Yes ! but their talk was concerning " the decease " of Jesus, 
which was soon to take place. It was about His decease, too, at 
Jerusalem. Not the sweet "sleep" which He gives to His Be- 
loved; but a violent, cruel, painful departure. He, at least, 
knew well what sort of a death it was they meant. He, at 
least, saw the crown of thorns and the awful cross ! 



24S BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

I have no doubt the Apostles, when they awoke from their 
slumbers, heard all this wondrous conversation. It was meant 
that they should hear it. 

Why do I say it was meant ? 

Just because they were very sad, and no wonder, at the 
thought of their loved Master being taken from them and killed I 
But when they listened to these two bright inhabitants of heaven 
speaking about the death of Jesus, and saying it was needful in 
order that the world might be saved ; then the disciples would 
have a burden taken off their minds. They would feel, ' if saints 
and angels loved to meditate on that deed of dying, — if all the 
heavenly host were interested in it, why should they think it 
strange, or give way to sadness ? ' 

Peter, as usual, was the first to break silence. 

It was a natural wish, but not a wise one. Hence the sacred 
writer says, " He spake, not knoiving what he said." He was so 
delighted with the scene on which his eye fell, — Jesus so glorious 
— and Moses and Ehas so glorious — that he called . aloud, " 
Master ! it is a pleasant thing for us to be here ! Let not these 
bright ones go away ! N"o such happy season have we ever had 
before. Do not let us return to dull ordinary life again. Could 
we not always live on this peak of Hermon, away from the plots 
of the Pharisees and the wiles of Herod ? Could we not go and 
gather boughs and branches from the valley hard by, and make 
three leafy booths — one for Thee, and one for Moses, and one 
for Elias ; no angry looks would fall upon us ; no unkind words 
would reach us. Make Hermon Thy throne, and let us reign 
with Thee here." 

In a word, Peter would like to have the Mount on which they 
stood made into a second Bethel ; angels travelling up and down 
as on Jacob's ladder between heaven and earth, bringing messages 
of love from the upper sanctuary. If Jesus could only remain 
there " Brighter than the Sun," — " glorious in His apparel," he 
thought He could have no better residence, no better place in 
the kingdom. 

The Master does not seem to make any reply to His bold 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 249 

disciple. But just as Peter had uttered his request, there is a 
new feature in the scene. 

Jesus, Moses, and Elias had hitherto been seen distinctly in 
the clear light which surrounded them ; but now a white fleecy 
cloud seems to come, they known not whence. 

First, the three glorified figures are lost in the cloud, as in a 
dense mist ; and then the disciples are hidden in it too. 

What think you that cloud was ? 

It was the Shechinah ; — " the Divine Glory " — the token of 
God's special presence. It was the very same cloud which rested 
of old on the tabernacle, and went in the form of a pillar before 
Israel in the desert. 

This formed the most solemn moment of all in the solemn 
spectacle. Jesus, Moses, and Elias had hitherto alone spoken. 
But now there is a Voice — a new Voice — that comes out of 
the cloud. It says — " This is My heloved Son, hear ye 
Him." 

It was the voice of God : — God the divine Father, witnessing 
to the Deity of His beloved Son. 

It was specially meant, too, that the Apostles should hear this 
voice. For even though the converse of Moses and Elias with Jesus 
had so far comforted them, yet you can quite believe they would 
be still troubled and downcast ^t the thought of their Master's 
death. They would feel as if they required higher than saints 
or angels to soothe their hearts and restore their faith. They 
might be tempted to say to themselves, ' How can this God-man 
die ? Can He be the Eternal Son of the Father if He is going 
to be slain by the hands of men ? ' 

The voice from " the excellent Glory " would, however, quite 
dismiss these fears and want of faith. The great God of the 
Pillar-cloud had spoken, and said, ' This Jesus, whom you call 
your Master : — this humble Man, whom the Galileans are reject- 
ing and despising, and who is soon to be killed in Jerusalem, is 
indeed My beloved Son — hear Him.' 

Yes, how glad they would be to listen to the assuring words ! 
How could they have one doubting thought about their kind 



2 50 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Saviour, when the voice of God had said, " in wliom I am well 
2 



And do you imagine it would only be the disciples who were 
glad to hear these utterances, and who would be strengthened by 
them ? 

They were doubtless intended also to strengthen and sustain 
Jesus Himself in the prospect of His dreadful sufferings. We may 
believe at Gethsemane and Calvary, Hermon, with its bright visions 
and glorious utterances, would be much before Him. He would 
remember the voice of His Father. He would remember, too, 
that wondrous talk about His decease ; how the eclipse of the 
Gkeat Sun was to prove the life and light of the M^orld ; — that 
like the myriads of stars above His head, would be the multitudes 
who by His death would shine in a brighter firmament for ever 
and ever ! 

The disciples had been able to gaze on the first part of the 
vision without terror. But at the second part, when the great 
cloud covered them, and the solemn voice was heard coming 
from its midst, they fell flat on their faces and hid them in the 
grass. Perhaps they felt, what they had not done previously, 
their loneliness. They were now screened from Jesus. He was 
lost from their sight in the canopy of glory. 

They continue in this posture until a gentle hand was felt 
touching them. They knew the touch well. They had often 
experienced the same before. The voice they knew even better, 
" AribC, be not afraid" 

They looked up. It was Jesus. The dazzling light — the 
bright messengers — the awful cloud, were all gone. They were 
alone once more with their dear Master ; who was attired again, 
not in garments woven with the sunbeams, but in His former 
lowly garb, as the Pilgrim Saviour ! 

They might have been afraid that Moses and Elias had come 
to fetch Him back to heaven. How happy they were when they 
found that they had their best Friend still at their side, and that 
they were walking in His loved company down the hill. The 
stars were vanished, but the " Sun of theii- souls " was still left. 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 251 

They might possibly have to face many new trials, but they had 
obtained a sight of the crown, and now they return to the foot of 
the mountain more than ever willing to bear the cross. 

The early rays of morning were breaking in the Eastern sky 
and tipping the snowy brow of Hermon ; the bu-ds were again 
singing their matin song ; the sheep were sprinkling themselves in 
the lower valley, or wending up the hill with their shepherd 
before them, as the three disciples and their Lord descend the 
grassy steps of that high altar. 

On their way down, Jesus expressly told them not to tell 
any one of what they had seen. He also foretold His rising 
from the dead. They wondered very much what this could 
mean. They spoke to each other, but did not like to question 
their Master about it. 

Some other scenes might by them be forgotten, but I am sure 
Mount Hermon never was. St. John, many long years afterwards, 
when he wrote his Gospel, says, " We leheld Jlis glory, the glory 
as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." And 
Peter, in his old age, when he was writing a beautiful letter to 
his converts, speaks of one place and spectacle which seemed to 
have fastened itself above all others in his memory. It was not 
the first look he got of Jesus on the banks of the Jordan ; nor 
some incident in His home at Capernaum ; nor the walk on the 
sea ; nor the Temple at Jerusalem ; nor Gethsemane ; nor Cal- 
vary. What, then, was it ? " We were eye-witnesses of His Majesty 
. . . when we were with Him in the Holy Mount I " (i Pet. L 
16, 18). 



252 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

XLII. 

fUe goes to fte JFeast of ^aiernaclrs. 

Jesus, having cured, a demoniac boy at the foot of the Mountain, 
■went for a little while again to the Lake-side. 

It was still very hot there. Those who had gone for cool- 
ness from its cities to the mountains, had not yet returned. So 
the Master and His disciples were able to have a time of greater 
quiet. As they had no other way of obtaining a living, it is 
probable that the Apostle-fishermen would go out with their boats 
and nets at night, and pursue their old calling. They would 
rest within doors in the fierce heat of the sun during the day, 
and listen to the teachings of their gracious Lord. 

This must have been with them a season of somewhat mingled 
happiness. All farewell meetings are sorrowful. The last gather- 
ing in the family cannot be a joyful one, just before the circle is 
broken, and the brother or sister go away never to come back to 
it, at all events, as a lionu. It was so now. Though Jesus was 
to return once more for a brief time, these were the last quiet home 
meetings He was to have on the shores of the Lake with the friends 
He most loved and clung to. The kind women who shared His 
company would doubtless, also, occasionally be present. It is 
not unlikely that Mary, the Mother of the Lord, may have been 
now with Him. Would He give her any idea of His coming 
conflicts and sufferings ? It is more probable, I think, that, until 
the time came. He would spare the saddest wound of " the Sword," 
which old Simeon had foretold would pierce her heart. She must, 
however, have had her own thoughts and fears. He, at least, 
knew only too well all that was before Him. " The clouds " were 
slowly but surely " gathering." He was to have six months of 
weary and anxious labour and teaching, principally in Judea and 
on the other side of Jordan, and these months were to end in cruel 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 253 

pain and death. This holy rest at His own city must therefore 
have been something like a Sabbath to Jesus. 

There is one beautiful picture given us of .these hours which 
never fails to interest all readers, young and old. 

It is evident that in the same house where He was, there were 
little children. How tenderly He speaks to them and deals with 
them ! There was one of their number on whom our attention is 
specially centred. The Saviour first took this child and set him 
down in the midst of the circle of friends who were gathered in 
the room. Then He folded him gently and lovingly in His arms, 
and said such kind words about him to the disciples. As if this 
were not enough, He warns them against offending one of such 
little ones that love Him and believe in Him. He farther assured 
them that the bright angels in heaven, who behold the face of His 
Father, have the charge of these, and rejoice to watch over them. 

I have at times wondered who this favoured child was ! I 
have often thought that all his life long he would never forget 
these wondrous moments. No son of King or Queen was ever 
so honoured as he. One of the Fathers of the Church says that 
this privileged little one was Ignatius, who, when grown up, died 
a martyr for the sake of Christ. Though we may not have much 
ground to believe the truth of this story, let us hope, at all events, 
that, whoever he was, he afterwards became a disciple and follower 
of so gracious a Master ; better still, that he is now singing the 
hymn of Heaven with a sweeter voice than he could sing it on 
earth — ■ 

" Safe in the arms of Jesus." 

We shall come to find that this was not the only occasion in 
which the Divine Shepherd showed His love for the tender 
Lambs of the flock. I heard a boy at a Sunday school once 
speak of Christ as " the King of Children ; " and that Sunday 
scholar said what was true. Jesus , seemed to have the charm 
which all kind and loving natures possess, of attracting the young 
to His presence. Sacred art has put youth and cliildhood of 
every age and in every possible attitude clustering around Him. 



254 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

securing His attention and seeking His blessing. Travellers in 
Palestine at the present day know how common it is, at the close 
of a long journey, for the women with infants in their arras or 
children at their side, to form a circle around the place of en- 
campment as the tent is being pitched and the fire lighted. May 
we not think of the meek and lowly Saviour, at frequent similar 
restings by the wayside at eventide, having like gatherings around 
Him ; the little ones from the adjoining hamlet seated on His 
knee or clinging to His bosom, listening with loving wonder and 
joy to His gracious sayings ? Can you recall some words of the 
Prophet Isaiah which seem to bring that picture before us better 
than any artist ever painted it ? 

" He shall feed His flock like a shepherd ; He shall rjather the 
lambs with His arm, and carry them in His hosom " (Isa. xl. 1 1 ). 

I may only add, it is thought that it was at this same time, 
when Jesus spoke so kindly to that young one, that He delivered 
also the Parable of " The Lost Sheep." Oh, how He loves the 
weak and helpless — the timid child or the poor lost sinner — who, 
lilce the sheep of the story, has strayed from the fold ! 

In the month of October, many people on the shores of the 
Sea of Tiberias were busy preparing to go up to Jerusalem to 
attend the Feast of Tabernacles. 

This Feast was what we might call the Jews' " Harvest Home." 
It took place when all the crops of the year were gathered in, 
and before the winter rains began to fall. The corn was housed, 
the grapes were plucked from the terraced vineyards, the olives 
were shaken from the olive-trees, and the olive-oil stored up in 
jars. It was a Feast of thanksgiving to God, who had " crowned 
the year with His goodness, and made all its paths drop fatness." 

Nor was this its only design. It was intended also to remind 
the Jewish people of the long wanderings of their Fathers in the 
wililerness, when they dwelt in tents, and of God's gracious care 
of them then. It was the gladdest by far of the Jewish festivals. 
It was their favourite feast. 

I think, my young readers, you would have liked to be in 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 255 

Jerusalem that month. Our churches, schools, and houses at 
home, are often decked out at Christmas time with evergreens, 
and hollies with their red berries. But this is nothing to what 
took place every autumn at Jerusalem. The streets were full of 
booths made with boughs of trees. Eopes were slung across 
covered over with branches. On the square tops of their houses 
there were arbours erected, beautifully green and shady. 

ISTor was this all. So great was the crowd from every part of 
the land, that the inhabitants were obliged for the time to go and 
live outside the gates of the city. Specially was the Mount of 
Olives and the slopes along the Valley of the Kedron covered 
with these ' Succoths,' as they called them. At the other great 
festivals, the people used huts made of goats' hair, similar to what 
the Arabs dwell in to this day ; but they were not allowed to have 
these now. They lived in arbours made of olive and willow, 
pine, myrtle, and palm. 

How beautiful " the Mount before the city " must have been ! 
It was as if in a night's time it had become a vast shrubbery or 
wood, so thickly were these green tents planted all over it. Peter 
must have referred surely to these leafy "tabernacles," when so 
lately we heard him say on Mount Hermon, " Let us make three 
tooths." 

For the purpose of directing the order of the observances 
during the Feast, also to keep the people cheerful and happy, the 
trumpeters of the Temple sounded the trumpets each day twenty- 
one times, or nearly twice in every hour. 

The gathering reminds us of our own Christmas in another 
way ; for members of families, separated during the rest of the 
year, now met together, in their holiday dresses, within these 
verdant walls — parents and children, brothers and sisters. 

You must not think, however, that the people remained in 
their tents. N"o ; they kept up a procession, nearly all day long, 
through the streets and the Courts of the Temple. Each carried 
some branches in their hands ; some held in their left hand a 
peach or citron ; but all had in their right, twigs of palm, willow, 
and myrtle, fastened sometimes with gold and silver strings. 



2S6 " BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

These they waved as they passed through the Courts of the 
Temple, and shouted " Hosanna ! " 

I must tell you more. Not only was it the hills and valleys 
round about that were thus beautified. At night, on the Temple 
platform, there were eight very large lamps erected ; or rather 
two high stands with four lamps on each of them. They were 
richly gilded and were fifty cubits high. They shed a ruddy glow 
on the pillars and cloisters, and even lighted up the Mount of 
Olives opposite with the glare. 

Instead of waving palm branches, as they did by day, the 
festive crowd at night bore in their hands blazing torches, amid 
the clashing of cymbals and the blast of trumpets. The Levites 
sat on the fifteen steps leading to the altar and sang the " Songs 
of Degrees; " while the women thronged the galleries (for it was 
in the Court of the Women these illuminations took place), and 
looked down on the torch-light dances. The night was well-nigh 
turned into day. 

Some have thought that if the festal multitudes were reminded 
in the forenoon part of the service of the " Pillar of Cloud " which 
led their Fathers of old, these blazing torches and lamps would 
call to mind " the Pillar of fire by night " which lit up the camp 
of Israel as they journeyed through the desert. 

It is evident Jesus was not present at the beginning of the 
Feast. He did not come up with the ordinary caravan from Galilee, 
but purposely waited till the crowd of Pilgrims had left, and then 
He and His disciples came quietly by themselves to Jerusalem. 

His hour was not yet come. He did not wish, before the 
appointed time, to hasten the gathering tempest. 

On reaching the Holy City, He seems to have gone straight to 
tlie Temple, and to have entered its crowded courts. 

He knew well He had many enemies among these multi- 
tudes, and that it would take little to draw down the lightning 
from the threatening clouds. But He had vast numbers, too, of 
interested friends : — not a few also there were from a distance, 
who though they had never met Him, were curious to see with 




" With Joy shallye draw water out of the wells of salvation " vis. xii. 3"! pao-e 257 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 257 

their own eyes the Great Wonder- Worker of Nazareth, and to 
witness His miracles. Accordingly, on His appearance, a stir was 
made ; for we are told the question had been asked again and again 
by the anxious throng — " Where is He 1 " 

" TJiis is Jesus ! " was whispered from lip to lip ; as they gazed 
on a countenance ' Brighter than the Sun,' yet wan with present 
and coming sorrow. 

He soon began to address the assembled crowd. He would be 
glad to have this new opportunity of acting the part of the Good 
Shepherd, and of speaking to the lost sheep of the House of Israel 
then collected in such numbers. 

As was to be expected from what I have just said, there was a 
division among His hearers : some liked Him, some disliked Him ; 
some said He was " a good man," others said He was " a deceiver 
of the people/' and would have used instant violence against Him. 
Ah, well might the meek and lowly, the guileless and innocent 
One, ask the touching question, as He listened to the mutterings 
of the storm, " Why go ye ahoiot to kill Me ? " 

The joyous festival lasted seven days. On the morning of each 
day, as the smoke of the early sacrifice rose from the altar (which 
was wreathed with sprigs of willow) a procession, headed by a 
priest, went dovm the steep pathway from the Temple to the 
Pool of Siloam. 

The pool is situated in a quiet recess at the base of Momit 
Moriah at the mouth of the Tyropceon Valley. It had very little 
water when T saw it, and was much disfigured with stones and 
mud. But it must have been beautiful at the time of Christ ; 
with blooming gardens around, and the sparkling pool itseK 
nestling in the rocks. Isaiah speaks of " the waters of Siloah that 
go softly" (viii. 6). These would be all the more peaceful, in 
contrast witli the noisy torrent of the Kidron rushing close by. 

On the occasion which I am describing, the officiating priest 
filled a golden bowl from the spring, and carried it, as seen in the 
accompanying picture, with music and song to the Temple court 
above. It must have indeed been a striking and picturesque 

R 



258 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

scene ; — the groups in their holiday dresses, — blue and white, red 
and yellow, as Easterns like to have them, — lining the flight of 
winding steps leading up the rocky ridge ; — each holding in 
the hand a festal branch, of which the palm was the favourite. 
Whenever the procession came in sight, the trumpets sounded, and 
the vast crowd took up the words of the Prophet, " Witli joy shall 
ye draw wateo- out of the wells of scplvation ! " 

On entering the Southern Gate, the Levites, in their white gar- 
ments, were gathered on either side, singing joyful festive Psalms. 
They chanted what is called ' the Great Hallel ;' and the people, 
old and young, round about, waved their palm branches and cried 
again " Hosanna ! " Specially loud were their voices when they 
came to the verse " Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good, he- 
cause His mercy endureth for ever." The procession then paused, and 
the water was poured into a silver basin at the base of the altar. 

The eighth was the last, and the greatest day of the Feast. The 
joy was greater then than on any of the other days. Seven times 
the priests walked round the altar singing their Psalms. 

Yes, it was an imposing sight. But Jesus well knew that, with 
all the seeming joy and happiness, there were many sad hearts too 
in the dense throng. Hearts broken with sorrow ; hearts crushed 
with sin. The pure waters of Siloam could do little in washing 
out dark stains from sinful souls, or in quenching the thirst of 
weary parched spirits. That golden goblet to such, would only 
be a " broken cistern that could hold no water." 

But He also knew what alone would do them good, and give 
them peace. By coming to Him and believing on Him — resting 
their guilty troubled souls on Him — they would be safe and 
happy for ever. 

So, standing perhaps on one of the high steps in order to be 
better seen and heard, the Divine Eedeemer cried with a loud 
voice " If any man thirst, let him come unto Me and drink." 

Do the words remind you of anything He ever said before ? 
Do they not recall what He spoke to the woman of Samaria at 
Jacob's well ? only now, the gracious invitation was given not to 
one, but to thousands on thousands. 



GATHERING CLOUDS. ' 359 

I have dwelt both in this and the former chapter, on the bright 
scene of the Feast of Tabernacles, because is it not interesting to 
think and to know that Jesus was there ? 

He mingled with the crowds. He heard the blast of the 
trumpets. He beheld the waving of the palm branches by day ; 
He saw the blazing torches and fires by night. He witnessed the 
golden goblet carried up from Siloam, and heard the words loudly 
shouted again and again which really and truly referred to Him- 
self, " Hosanna ! " (come, Saviour), " Blessed is He that cometh 
in the name of the Lord ! " How strange, these dense multitudes 
all praying for that Saviour to appear, who was then standing in 
their midst ! 

You may naturally be led to ask, what the result was of that 
visit of Jesus to the courts of the Temple on that " great day of 
the Feast ? " Did any Ksten to His gracious invitation, and 
accept the offer of this free salvation ? 

Some, we are told, heard His teaching with joy, and received 
Him as the promised Christ. " This," said they, " is the Prophet." 
Others were too proud to own so humble a Galilean as their 
Messiah. 

The chief Jews were very angry. They met in their great 
hall on the Temple hill, and sent out some guards, or officers, to 
seize Jesus. 

Why are these officers so long in coming back ? 

They had gone to the Temple court, where they found the 
Saviour speaking. But before laying hold on Him, they could 
not resist pausing for a few moments to hear some of the gracious 
things He said. So good, so gentle, so kind ; yes, and so divine is 
He, — they felt as if they could not dare to go up and close these 
holy lips, or bind these gracious hands. 

They return all alone without fulfilling the command of their 
masters. 

" Why have ye not hrought Him ? " the members of the angry 
council asked. 

" We could not," was the reply. " We have heard many reli- 
gious teachers, but ' never man spake like this man.' " 



26o BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Jesus went on preaching. He proclaimed Himself to be the 
Son of God, sent by His Father to redeem mankind. He warned 
His hearers that the time He would be with them was short, and 
that soon He would be taken away. 

The Feast of Tabernacles being over, the blazing torches and 
fires which had been seen for seven nights were extinguished. 
All was once more darkness in the Temple court and on the 
Mount, except the light which the moon and stars might afford. 
Perhaps it was in allusion to this, or rather in contrast with it, 
that Jesus said to the crowd before they separated, regarding 
Himself ; — " I am better than all other Lights. I am the only 
true Light. ' Brighter than the Sun itself.' " / am THE Light 
OF THE WoELD ! " (John viii. 1 2.) 

That last evening, on the dispersing of the -crowd, the Saviour 
appears to have gone and taken up His abode for the night some- 
where on the Mount of Olives. We are not told where this 
place of sojourn was. Was it with the keeper of the olive garden 
I have before referred to, at " a place called Gethsemane " ? or 
did He sleep in the open air, with the bright stars, like minister- 
ing angels, looking down upon Him ? 

We cannot tell. But His heavenly Father, in a better and 
diviner sense than in the case of any others, would "give His 
Beloved sleep" 



XLIII. 

Wtt cures a tilinti man, antr ticUbcrs tlje Paraile of t!)e 
^ooU <S{)cpl}crl3, 

On the Sabbath following the autumn festival, Jesus seems to 
have cured a blind man someM''here outside the Temple gate. 

We are not told that this blind person had asked Jesus to 
restore his sight. The disciples seem rather to have pointed him 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 261 

out to their Master, who at once proceeded to work a new mu-acle 
of mercy. He anointed the sufferer's eyes with clay, and then 
told him to go and wash in the pool of Siloam, the fountain at 
which they had so lately filled the Golden Pitcher. 

It must have been a trying thing for the poor man to grope 
his way through the narrow alleys and streets of Jerusalem lead- 
ing to the pool. Those he met, many or most of whom must 
have known him, would think it strange to see him with his eyes 
covered over with the moist clay. But he cared not what people 
thought or said. He did simply what Jesus told him to do. He 
believed the good Physician's word, and obeyed His directions. 
What was the result ? He came back from the pool with his 
eyes opened. " He went Ms way, and washed, and came seeing." 

The Pharisees were, as usual, very angry. They called Christ 
" a sinner." They returned to the old charge, that He had broken 
the law, because He had wrought this cure on the Sabbath. The 
wonted clouds of enmity and imbelief were again gathering. We 
can infer, from one sentence, the strength of their scornful hatred : 
— "As for this fellow, we hnow not whence he is." The blind man, 
however, stood up boldly for his Dehverer. The Pharisees wished 
him to deny Jesus, and, as they said, to " give God the praise " of 
his recovery. But he would not tell a lie against his own con- 
science. He had an upright as well as a grateful heart. He 
would not denounce the kind Healer who had wrought such a 
cure upon him. " Whether He le a sinner" said he, " or no, I hioio 
not ; this one thing I know, that -whereas I was Uind, now I see." 

The Pharisees for the moment turned their rage from Jesus on 
the restored man. They did the most cruel wrong which could 
be inflicted on a Jew. The sacred writer tells us, " They cast him 
out." Yes, I repeat, that was a terrible deed of vengeance. Do 
you ask me why ? A man " cast out " was considered unclean. 
He was, for the time that sentence was on him, not deemed 
worthy to be called an Israelite. He was not allowed to go to 
the Temple or synagogue. He was shunned and avoided by his 
nearest friends. His very parents and brothers and sisters were 
not allowed to speak to him ! 



2 62 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

But this object of the Saviour's mercy had now a Better than 
the best of human friends. That Friend found him out, and spoke 
kindly to him, when others had no words or looks but those of 
harshness. " Jesus heard that they had cast him out ; and when 
He had found him, He said unto him, Dost thou Relieve on the Son 
of God ? He answered and said, Who is He, Lord, that I might 
believe on Him ? And Jesus said unto him. Thou hast both seen 
Hi7n, and it is He that talketh with thee. And he said. Lord, I 
believe. And he loorshipiMd Him." 

It may seem, at first, strange, that immediately after Jesus had 
performed this cure, He delivered the striking discourse, related 
in the tenth chapter of St. John, about The Shepherd and the 
Sheep. You will naturally ask, Had the healing of this blind 
man anything to do with such a subject ? 

While I answer. No, I may tell you what I think may possibly 
have suggested it. 

I remember, one Sunday I spent on the Mount of Olives, being 
much struck and interested in meeting, half-way across the hill, 
a shepherd and his fleecy charge. The shepherd was going before, 
and the sheep were following. May not Jesus have noted a similar 
flock just at that moment, as He looked across to the green pas- 
tures of the Mount ? And not the flock only, and their leader ; 
but up the hill-slope He may have seen one of the many sheep- 
folds that were there, with the wicket-gate and the rough wall or 
enclosure round about, either formed of stones or of wattled 
boughs of olive and willow. 

If so, need I say the sight would abundantly supply Him with 
thoughts for this instructive parable ; enabling Him to speak 
words of rebuke and warning to the hostile Pharisees, as well as 
of comfort to His own disciples and to His people in all ages. 

The same beautiful image is often used in the New Testament : 
Jesus " finding " His sheep, " keeping " His sheep, " feeding " His 
sheep, " watcliing " His sheep, and finally " folding " His sheep 
amid the verdant meadows of heaven. 

In the present parable He reproves the false shepherds, — thoso 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 263 

whom He calls the " hirelings," — those who had no care or love 
for the flock, who were ready to flee when the wolf was near. He 
speaks of Hunself as " the Good Shepherd" who " lays down Ris 
life for the sheep." Towards the close of the parable. He describes 
the gate of the sheepfold (for long ages entered only by Jews) as 
tlirown open to all. He beholds people of every nation entering 
in, and becoming part of the Great Flock redeemed with His 
blood. " Other sheep I have" said He, " which are not of this 
fold : them also I must bring, and they shall hear My voice ; and 
there shall he onefold, and one Shepherd." 

Some of His hearers were evidently impressed. Not so, how- 
ever, the majority. What He had declared about the " other 
sheep " being welcomed into the fold, as well as regarding His 
relations to the Father, only seemed the more to stir up their 
enmity and hatred : — " Many of them said, He hath a devil and is 
mad. . . . Then the Jews took up stones again to stone Him " 
(John X. 20, 3 i). 

It is evident that the sky was becoming more and more 
charged with the coming storm. Every day " the floods of un- 
godly men " were increasing. But He, around whose head these 
clouds were gathering, had One on His side Greater than all that 
were against Him, and of whom it was sublimely said, " TIu 
clouds are the dust of His feet " (Nahum i. 3). 



XLIV. 
fUe goes to ffialtlrc, anti srntis out Sfbents JBfectplcs. 

Shortly after this, Jesus seems to have returned for a brief season 
to the north of Palestine. 

Space will not allow me to tell you about a number of events 
which happened at this time in the story of His life. It was. 



264 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

doubtless, His last visit to Galilee before His death. But it was 
not, like the former one, a quiet, bappy meeting with friends. 
It must have been in many ways full of sadness. His enemies 
here, too, as in Judea, were lying in wait for the Innocent Lamb 
of God : — nay, not a few of them thirsting for His blood. These 
enemies were composed of all ranks : from the highest to tbo 
lowest ; from jealous Herod Antipas, to the fickle multitude ; that 
same multitude many of whom used, in former times, to hang 
with earnest attention on His lips. 

No wonder that He no longer speaks to these ungrateful j^eople 
as He was wont to do (as He loved to do), in the still small 
voice of mercy and compassion. His words now rather remind 
us of what John the Baptist said of Him : — " Whose fan is in 
His hand, and He will thoroughly purge His floor." 

He cried " Woe ! ivoe ! woe I " over these guilty men and guilty 
cities, that had returned hatred for His kindness. He told them 
they were more sinful and ungrateful even than the inhabitants 
of wicked Sodom on which God had rained fire and brimstone. 
Tor if He had trodden the streets and done for the cities of the 
plain what He had done for the cities of the Lake, " they would 
have repented long ago in dust and in ashes." 

Sorrowful as the heart of Jesus was, He still bravely went on 
with His work of preaching and healing, till the time had arrived 
when He must set out on His last journey. 

He did not flinch or hesitate, on leaving the spot He had 
known so long and loved so dearly. Even though He knew all 
the dark days that were at hand, "He steadfastly set His face 
to go tip to Jertcsalem." He seems not to have taken the road 
by the Jordan valleys, which was pleasantest in winter, but went 
round by Samaria. 

In the course of the journey, which occupied some weeks. He 
spoke some of His most striking parables, such as that of the 
Unjust Judge and the Good Samaritan. Besides parables. He 
uttered many other solemn words and warnings. 

It would seem to have been about this time, and before leaving 
the shores of the Lake, that Jesus gathered His more faithful 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 265 

followers around Him, and from their number chose seventy 
disciples to go before Him from place to place, preaching the 
doctrines of the Gospel, and preparing the people to welcome 
Him in the different hamlets and towns through which He was 
to pass. 

We are not told the names of any of these seventy. They 
were doubtless plain humble men, gathered from the localities 
where Jesus was best known. They were not learned or wise. 
They had the love of the Master in their hearts, and that was 
better than all head learning. 

The Jews had divided the world into seventy nations, just as 
they themselves were divided into twelve tribes. By thus send- 
ing out seventy preachers, might not Jesus announce the great 
purpose He had in view, of conveying the message of salvation 
to " all the ends of the earth " ? 

These good, men started on their mission in pairs, or two and 
two together. They had no change of clothes, no bag to carry 
provisions, and no money in their purses. Nothing but their 
pilgrim staves, and simple faith in Him who had sent them. 

Picture their going from village to village and city to city, 
boldly proclaiming the coming King and kingdom, and working 
miracles in the name of their great Lord. Their experience was 
similar to His own ; and similar to that of His faithful ministers 
in every age of the Church. In some cases they found teachable 
minds ; in others, hard hearts. Some whom they addressed 
believed, others rejected the message. 

After a little time of absence, they returned to Jesus with 
an account of their work. They seem to have been astonished at 
their own success, and especially at their power in casting out 
devils. Perhaps He saw that they were inclined to be boastful 
and proud about this. He therefore says to them, "Do not so 
rejoice about the devils being subject to you. There is a matter 
which ought to make you far more joyful : rather rejoice that 
your names are written in God's Book of Life." 

The great and good Shepherd of the parable, however. Himself 
"rejoiced in spuit ! " Not only did He rejoice that, by means of these 



266 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN, 

under shepherds, stray shee^D had been brought back to the fold ; 
but He was happy to think that, if proud Pharisees and Scribes 
rejected His Gospel, the humble, the suffering, the poor, the 
lowly, had welcomed the " glad tidings." Lifting up His eyes to 
heaven. He uttered this beautiful prayer — " / tlianli Thee, 
Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou hast hid these things 
from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. 
Even so. Father ! for so it seemed good in Thy sight ! " 

Shortly after this time, Jesus seems to have crossed to a dis- 
trict on the other side of the Jordan called Perea. 

Perea was part of the highlands of East Palestine. David, I 
mentioned before, wrote and sang some of his most plaintive 
psalms there, when he was obliged to flee an exile from his 
throne ; and now the Son of David, like His royal ancestor, makes 
it a place of refuge from the wiles of His foes. 

Jesus, I need not observe, would not have gone away unneces- 
sarily from danger. He was not afraid. But His time — the 
time appointed for Him to suffer and to die — was not yet come. 
Clouds have still farther to gather, and evening shadows to fall, 
ere the Great Sun sets in darkness and blood. 



XLV. 

^e UfUbcrs tfje most irautiful of all "^i^ ^araMrs. 

Some have thought that it was among these wild mountain scenes, 
with their streams and pasture lands, that the divine Saviour 
spake the beautiful parable of "the Lost Sheep." He brings before 
us the wanderer iirst straying on the mountains ; then brought 
back on the shoulders of the shepherd ; the shepherd, on reach- 
ing his home — some quiet pastoral hamlet in the valley — calling 
together his neighbours, and saying, " Bejoice with me, for I have 
found my sheep which was lost." 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 267 

;N'o image of Jesus seems to have been so much a favourite in 
the early Church as this. In the place where the first Christians 
used to bury in Eome — " the Catacombs " — -the figure of the 
Shepherd, with His crook in His hand, and carrying the lost 
sheep, is frequently seen cut in slabs of stone. Eeligious painters 
of all ages have loved the same subject. Varied has been its 
treatment ; from that in the works of the early centuries and the 
middle ages down to the latest great picture in our own country, 
where the gracious Shepherd is represented with the feeble lamb 
which had strayed from the fold, nestling in His bosom, — a frag- 
ment of prickly thorn still clinging to its fleece, the mute evidence 
of its wanderings. 

If Perea be the scene of this parable, it would also most likely 
be that of the story which immediately follows in St. Luke's 
Gospel, and which, I think, I may well call the most wondrous 
and touching description of grace and forgiveness to be found 
in aU. the Bible. 

I refer to what i; known as " the Paralle of the Prodigal Son." 

Who does not love that parable ? Grown up men and women, 
over and over again, have read it. Old men and women have 
their Bibles often soiled and worn at that place, as if to mark 
how frequently they have turned to gaze on the picture that 
never tires. The young love to read it, because it is a story — 
though a very sad one — of youth. Even children are never 
weary of sitting on their mother's knee when that parable of all 
parables is told to them. 

You know it well. The happy home — the kind father and his 
two sons. The younger son wishing, like many foolish boys, to 
have his own way, thinking it would be nice and pleasant to do 
just as he liked. 

That son leaves his parents' dwelling, and goes off with his 
portion of money in his pocket to the 'far country.' I need not 
remind you of his misery. Once so happy, now so wretched. 
Once the hand of innocence linked in his father's, with servants 
to wait upon him, and a bed of down to sleep upon — the kiss of 



268 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

a father's love the last thing at night and the first to welcome 
him in the morning. Now all these things gone ! He soon had 
" ^jyerd his all." In some desolate, far-off wild, — perhaps amid the 
mud and mire of winter and the cold of biting winds, he is feed- 
ing swine. So greatly was he in want, that he would have been 
glad to have, for his own food, the hollow husks which the swine 
were eating. " But no man gave unto Mm." No kind voice was 
there to sj)eak to him ; no pillow for his aching head but the 
withered leaves or the grassy sod. He was free once ; now he is 
a slave. 

Though no ear can hear him in that lonely place, and no hand 
can help him ; yet, in his misery, he lifts up his eyes, streaming 
with tears, and cries — " I perish ivith hunger !" 

Suddenly, as if he awoke from a troubled dream, "he came to 
himself." As if a ray of light had flashed in the midnight dark- 
ness, he recalls the old, loved, happy home, with its scenes of 
mirth, — the halls where the banquet used to be held, the gardens 
where, amid the beauty and fragrance of flowers, childhood 
played ; oh, above all, the bright faces that used to smile upon 
him, and chief among these his \.m.^ father s — yes, the smile of 
the father he had forsaken, and whose heart he had well-nigh 
broken ! 

* Can I ever dare to return there again ? Can I dream of his 
tver receiving me back again ? iSTo ; impossible. I never, at 
least, can be his son. But glad, oh, how glad, should I be, if he 
would only take me in as a servant ! The meanest drudgery in 
the house would be happiness and freedom to me compared to 
this !' 

He says to himself, " I will try." " / will arise, and go to my 
father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, 
and before thee, and am no inore tvorthy to he called thy son: make 
me as one of thy hired servants." 

After saying so, he did not put off time. " Then he arose," 
and, just as he was, in his ragged dress and faint with hunger, he 
grasps his staff, and commences the long, weary journey. 

What is taking place all this time in his old home ? Has the 



father he has so wronged forgotten him ? or, more likely, does he 
hate him ? and if ever they met again would he have only words 
of harshness and cruelty to say to him ? Has he given orders to 
his servants that if ever the ungrateful boy comes to the gate, or 
knocks at the door, he is to be driven away with angry words, 
and told never to show his face there in future ? 

Oh no ! it is quite the reverse. That wronged and injured father, 
during the sad, weary weeks and months (or it may be years) of 
his son's absence, was always thinking about him, and had 
nothing all the while but love — a father's love — in his heart. 
The old man, it may be, had gone, time after time, to the top of 
the hill, that he might loolc eagerly along the far-stretching plain 
or valley, to see if there was any appearance of his lost child ' 

One day — one evening — he was thus standing on the hill- 
ridge, gazing wistfully, with his hand screening his eyes. He 
looks and looks again. 

At last he sees a black speck on the horizon. It comes nearer 
and nearer — nearer and nearer still. " Oh ! " he cries, with a 
gush of tears, " can it be ? — yes, it is ! — my son ! my long-lost, 
my dearly-loved son ! " 

He cannot wait a moment. Though the youth is yet a great 
way ofr, he descends at once down the slope. On — on — he still 
hastens, till at last the two meet, and are locked in each other's 
arms. 

For a few moments they cannot speak for weeping. 

The son is the first to stammer out some words. Wliat are 
they? 

We can only catch the broken utterances, "Sinned! sinned!" 
" Not worthy ! not worthy ! " " Have you the poorest servant's 
place to give ? even that is too good for me ! " 

The father does not give an answer to the speaker. But he 
turns round to some of tlie servants of the household, who had 
joined them, and says to them, " The very best robe in all my 
wardrobe, bring it for my boy, to put in place of these tattered 
rags. The best ring in my jewel-case, bring it for his finger, and 
sandals to cover his bleeding, blistered feet. Go and prepare a 



2 70 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

great banquet in my house. Kill the fatted calf; gather the 
minstrels into the hall for music and dancing and song. Invite 
all you can, to make it the gladdest feast I ever had — ' For this 
my son ivas dead, and is alive again ; he was lost, and is found! " 

I have elsewhere put the touching story into the following 
lines : — 

" Eetiirn, return, the way is long and dreary ; 
Return, return, wand'rer sad and weary ; 

Why so with sin beguiled ? 
Thy father's heart is breaking, 
With this cruel long forsaking, 

Come back, come back, my child ! " 

" Gladly I would, for with hunger 1 am perishing, 
Tlie memories of home still fondly I am cherishing, 

I'm weary in the wild : 
No Sabbath bells now ringing. 
No loving voices bringing 

Peace to this heart defiled ! " 

" Return, return, why any longer linger? 
There are sandals for your feet, and a ring to deck your finger • 

Your father reconciled, 
With pity will behold you, 
In his arme he will enfold you ; 

Come back, come back, my child !" 

" I come, I come, my heart with joy is beating ; 
I come, I come, as I hear thee thus entreating 

With accents fond and mild ; 
I thought myself forsaken. 
But to-morrow I'll awaken. 

Waken, once more, thy child ! " 

'• Oh joyful sight ! at last he is appearing ; 
Light up the festal-liall — the wand'rer is nearing ; 

Go let the board be piled, 
Let fatted calf be killed for him. 
And golden goblets filled for him 

I've found, I've found, my child !" 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 271 



XLVI. 

!le goes up ig Sertcfjo to Betfjang* 

Aftee an abode of some weeks in Perea, Jesus returns to 
Jerusalem. 

He was always longing to call more wanderers into His fold ; 
and knowing that many would be in the capital city at the Feast 
of Dedication, He undertakes this fresh journey. 

In going from Perea, there is only one way He could select. 
He must have come up the steep road leading from Jericho ; a 
road dreary in itself, and which then, as now, was the haunt of 
thieves or wild Arabs from the desert. I remember when jour- 
neying there, it was necessary, in order to secure safety, to pay 
"robbers' money," and to have a son of the chief shiekh as an 
escort. The first part of the rugged track is full of rough stones, 
and the ascent is fatiguing till the traveller reaches the Mount 
of Olives. 

Jesus would likely pause for the night at Jericho. If so, it 
would take between five or six hours next day to reach the 
heights around Jerusalem. It would not be so hot as in the 
previous months, for it was now the beginning of the Palestine 
winter (December). The country, and specially this part of 
Judea, would at that season be very bleak and bare. The pas- 
ture on the limestone hills would still be faded and bleached 
with the summer's sun. The " early rain " had fallen ; but it 
was the " latter rain " which refreshed the land. 

I have spoken of Jesus going to the neighbourhood of Jeru- 
salem, and not to Jerusalem itself. For I think it most likely 
to have been on this very occasion that a glimpse is given of a 
family circle, who are new to us and whose names have not yet 
occurred. 

We have already in earlier pages spoken of two Homes of Jesus. 



272 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Nazaeeth was His early, and Capernaum was His second, prin- 
cipal abode. But towards tlie end of the Gospel story, we are 
introduced to a third home, which in many ways shines out the 
brightest and loveliest of them all ; — Bethany. 

The former two, as you know, were far away from Jerusalem: 
— Bethany was very near it. I can truly say no place in the 
Holy Land did I visit with more interest, or indeed with such 
interest as this. 

I think you would like to hear an account of it, because it 
was the house of all others to which the Son of Man and Son of 
God seems to have gone most frequently, in the closing weeks of 
His life. When His heart was bowed down with sorrows greater 
than He had felt before, and the last closing terrible hour was 
nigh, oh how much He must have enjoyed the kind words and 
welcome which always greeted Him in that village ! How the 
Dove of Heaven must have rejoiced often to fold His weary 
wings in this peaceful " cleft of the rock ! " 

If you ask me what Bethany is like now, I could only tell you 
it is one of the most wretched villages in all Palestine, I might 
almost add in all the world. You can hardly picture the misery 
and filth of the poor creatures who live or herd together in these 
stony hovels. The hovels themselves, I am not wrong in saying, 
are worse than the worst Irish cabins. 

But this filth and wretchedness cannot rob Bethany of its out- 
ward beauty, and its abiding interest. 

I never can forget the first time I went to it by the steep 
path across the Mount of Olives. How often Jesus must have 
crossed by that very same footroad ! for the roads of Palestine 
cannot be much changed from what they were ; this one hardly 
could at all. On coming to the summit of the little ' pass,' I 
thought how His eye, which always so delighted in the loveliness 
of His own lovely world, must have rested on the wonderful view 
which there breaks on the sight. There are wooded knolls and 
clumps of olive, almond, and fig, close by ; — then the strange 
white wilderness beyond, going down, down, far below, in a suc- 
cession of natural terraces, to the deep valley of the Jordan. 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 273 

Then the gleam of the Dead Sea, sleeping in the hollow, like a 
huge mass of quicksilver; — and behind all this, the great giant 
wall of the Moab Mountains. Jesus, when He was carrying on 
His ministry in Jerusalem, generally took that pathway in the 
evening, just before sunset, when He had left His labours in the 
Temple, and ere the gates of the city were shut. I like to recall 
Him, who at another time spoke of the red glow of the sky, 
pausing to gaze on the glory of these Moab hills lighted up 
with the last fires of day ; — a mass of purple and gold, crimson 
and violet — colours never to be seen on our hills at home. 

The village of Bethany, though quite near Jerusalem, is en- 
tirely screened from it by the eastern slope of the Mount of 
Olives. It stands at the head of the steep road I have just 
spoken of, which leads down to Jericho and the Jordan. It may 
probably always have been the site of one of the watch-towers of 
Jerusalem, guarding the valleys which lead to the East from 
hostile armies. I have spoken of the trees which at the present 
day mingle with the white rocks and green sward around. But, 
in the time of Jesus, clusters of palms, which gave the village its 
name (•' House of Dates "), with their taU stems and hanging 
leaves, must have lent an additional loveliness to the quiet 
retreat. 

The house, which the Saviour so often made His home there, 
had three inmates — a brother and two sisters — Martha, Mary, 
and Lazarus. They all three loved Jesus, and Jesus loved them. 
They do not appear to have been poor. Some references in the 
Gospel story would seem, on the contrary, to show that they were 
weU off, and had rather a better house than the other villagers. 

Even now, in the rude hamlets of Palestine, there is a chief 
man called " Sheikh," who lives in a higher class dwelling than 
his fellow-villagers, and is known by his peculiar dress. Pos- 
sibly Lazarus may have been this head villager or Sheikh in " the 
town of Bethany." To this day, among its ruined houses, there is 
a larger one than the others, pointed out as " the Castle of 
Lazarus." Whether these fragments of ruined wall really formed 
the home of the family of Bethany, we cannot teU. I did not go 



274 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

inside ; — but travellers, if they choose to listen to idle tales, are 
still taken down by taper-light to a gloomy cellar below, which 
is shown as the room where Jesus sat at meat with the favoured 
household. We can be quite sure of this, however, that some- 
where at least among that cluster of stone and mud habitations, 
the Lord of Glory sojourned again and again when He was on 
earth ; that often, when very sad and downcast, it must have 
been to Him like a gush of sunshine in a dark day — when 
turning the corner of the Mount of Olives, His eye fell on three 
figures looking eagerly, either from their little garden or from 
the flat roof of their dwelling, for the coming of their Divine 
Guest. 

The first of these visits, I repeat, would seem to have taken 
l^lace now. We may think of Jesus, tired and travel-worn after 
that long weary journey on foot up " the Eobber's Way," reach- 
ing the home of His friends. 

He had, perhaps, come upon the inmates unexpectedly, which 
may account for Martha being bustled while putting the house 
in order, preparing the supper, and spreading the table. She 
was evidently the active member of the family, and took all the 
household cares upon herself. She was a true disciple of Christ, 
and from the reverence she had, she wished to show Him every 
kindness. 

But it would appear on the occasion of this visit, she was 
needlessly concerned as to getting ready the evening meal, and 
was rushing hither and thither about the house. It was alto- 
gether an unnecessary anxiety on her part. Bread and fruit, and 
a jar of water from the village well, would have satisfied all His 
desires. In the words of Jesus she was " troubled about many of 
these things " which to Him were indifferent. 

Mary, her gentle younger sister, on the other hand, remained at 
the feet of her Lord, drinking in heavenly lessons from His lips. 
There she sat on, hour after hour, as if she could never tire. For 
the meaning of the word is, she " kept on sitting." 

While He gently rebukes Martha for her well-meant bustling 
ways, and for a hasty speech about her sister ; He says of the 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 275 

latter — " Mary hath chosen that good part which shall not he taken 
away from her." 

This is our first glimpse into the Bethany home, but we shall 
come very soon to speak more about Jesus there, as well as about 
Martha and Mary and Lazarus. 



XLVII. 

fUe attetttrs i^t jFeast of IBetticatton, antr rettirns to Perea. 

Jesus would cross the Mount of Olives from Bethany to be 
present at " the Feast of Dedication." 

This, like that of Purim, was not one of the great or ancient 
feasts of the Jews. It had not been instituted for more than two 
hundred years. It was appointed to keep m mind the expulsion 
from the Temple, of wicked and profane Antiochus Epiphanes, by 
Judas the Maccabee with his few brave soldiers. Being connected 
strictly with these sacred courts in Jerusalem, it was not attended 
by many people from Galilee, so that the crowd assembled was 
by no means large. 

I have told you the feast took place in winter. It began a few 
days only before our Christmas, and lasted eight days. It was 
kept a good deal in the same way as the Feast of Tabernacles, 
especially by the carrying of palm branches, and, when the 
inclement season did not prevent, by having lights in the Temple 
court. Indeed, it was known by the other name of " the Feast of 
Lights." As in the case of most of the Jewish high days too, 
there was introduced the music of the lute and cymbal, and the 
blowing of trumpets. 

During the Feast of Tabernacles, in October, the weather was 
always bright and beautiful. But now the heavy early rains of 
Palestine had generally set in ; so that those who had assembled 



2 76 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

in the Temple were glad often to get under the shelter of the 
cloisters, and specially under the largest one, called 'Solomon's 
Porch! This porch was a furlong in length. It received its 
name owiiig to fragments of Solomon's great Building still being 
preserved amid the stones and cedar-wood of which it was com- 
posed. It was the first cloister which was entered from the Gate 
Shushan, and its lofty arches protected the worshippers both from 
the burnmg sun of summer and the heavy rains of winter and 
spring. I have told you before of the trophies of war that were 
hung in public view. These beautiful cloisters would seem, on 
the occasion of this feast, to have been decorated with the shields 
and banners, the swords and spears, which the brave Judas had 
taken from the enemy. 

The sacred writer informs us that, in accordance with the cus- 
tom I have just explained, " Jesus lualTied in Solomon's Porch." 

As He did so, groups of interested and excited worshippers 
and pilgrims gather round Him. The Pharisees, as before, form 
part of His hearers. They ask Him to declare plainly whether 
He were Christ or not. 

Jesus does not wish to be considered the Warrior-Messiah 
whom the Jews desired. He knew that they were longing for 
" a Prince of this world " — some hero with sword and shield, like 
that same Judas whose name was on every lip at the Peast of 
Dedication. 

No ! He wished to claim for Himself a far higher and nobler 
kingdom. As the Son of God, sent down by the Father to save 
the world, He claimed to be Divine. He tells these questioning 
Pharisees, " / and My Father are One." 

That word feU like a spark. The flame of their anger burst 
instantly and wildly forth. " He speaks blasphemy ! " is the 
shout of many voices. Heaps of rubbish and fragments of stone, 
from repairs going on in the Temple, were lying about. These 
were picked up by the Pharisees, just as they had been, nine 
months before, at the Feast of Purim ; and, with eyes gleaming 
with vengeance, they would have murdered Jesus on the spot. 
But they were too cowardly to put their threats into execution ; 



GATHERING CLOUDS. 277 

or rather, a Power not their own prevented tliem from doing so. 
Perhaps Christ's divine presence and majesty put a restraint on 
their wicked purpose, and caused the stones to drop from their 
hands. 

At all events. He passed through the crowd unharmed, as He 
had done before at Nazareth, Probably crossing the little bridge 
over the Kedron, and going up by David's foot-road among the 
oKve-trees, He would feel happy once more in the peaceful home 
of Bethany. 

Having spoken His solemn message at this winter feast, He 
sees that it would be well not further to rouse the passions of 
His Jerusalem enemies. He therefore does not return to the 
Temple again. He thinks it better not even to remain at 
Bethany. Those who desired His death might soon have found 
Him out in the house of Lazarus, and have raised a new tumult 
against Him. He goes down, therefore, the steep Jericho road 
with His disciples, and, crossing the Jordan, takes up His abode 
again in Perea. 



EVENING SHADO^VS. 



" BEHOLD NOW THE DAY DRAWETH TOWARD EVENING." — JUDGES XIX. 9, 

"the WATCHMAN SAID, *THE MORNING COMETH, AND ALSO THE 
NIGHT.'" — Is. XXI. 12. 

" I MUST WORK THE WORKS OF HIM THAT SENT ME, WHILE IT IS DAY ; 
THE NIGHT COMETH, WHEN NO MAN CAN WORK.'' — JOHN IX. 4. 

** THEN JESUS S.\ID UNTO THEM, ' YET A LITTLE WHILE IS THE LIGHT 
WITH YOU : WALK WHILE YE HAVE THE LIGHT; LEST DARKNESS 
COME UPON YOU : FOR HE THAT WALKETH IN DARKNESS KNOWETH 
HOT WHITHER HE GOETH. WHILE YE HAVE LIGHT, BELIEVE IN 
THE LIGHT, THAT YE MAY BE THE CHILDREN OF LIGHT. '"^OHN 

xii. 35, 36. 

"and THEY WERE IN THE WAY GOING UP TO JERUSALEM ; AND JESUS 
WENT BEFORE THEM : AND THEY WERE AMAZED J AND AS THEY 
FOLLOWED, THEY WERE AFRAID." — MARK X. 32, 



EVENING SHADOWS. 281 

XLVIII. 

Before f^e leabes ^erea f^e Messes Spittle Cfjtltiren, 

The " Gathering Glouds" are deepening into " Evening Shadows." 

" The sunny morning-glimpse is gone, 
That morning note is still ; 
The dun, dark eve comes lowering on, 
The spoilers roam at will." ^ 

It was now the middle of a Palestine winter. The winds that 
howled around the Divine Pilgrim in these uplands, and the rain 
which fell from the gloomy skies, reflected the increasing gloom 
and sorrow of His own spirit. Except the inmates of that kind 
Bethany home, now far off, and the handful of faithful disciples 
at His side, He could count on few real friends. He could not 
forget that what He last saw in the courts of His Father's House 
were eyes flashing with fire, murderous stones clenched in cruel 
hands, and fierce words, worse than all to bear. There was the 
ever-present thought, too, to which I have already referred, and 
which at this time must have been surely sadder than any other, 
that among those who were His daily and hourly companions, 
there was one His future Betrayer ! 

The very neighbourhood where He was, could not fail to make 
Him sorrowful. He must have had many sacred remembrances of 
John the Baptist, whose bold tones so often rang in the Jordan Valley 
hard by. John's eyes had for a whole year been closed in death, 
as His own would ere long be. The country people in these 
secluded highland valleys had known the Baptist well, and loved 
him much. They knew, too, the reverence John had for " the 
Lamb of God;" and many of them followed the footsteps of Jesus, 



and believed on Him, for John's sake. This was one ' rift in the 
cloud ' — one gleam in the darkening sky. 

Though I must pass over, without mention, several occurrences 
at this time in the life of Jesus, I cannot omit one of His sayings 
and doings specially interesting : all the more so, because it is 
put down as the last act and the last word of the Holy Son of 
God during His visit to Perea. It shows how the longer He was 
among the people, the more they loved Him. 

It was a repetition of the touching picture we have gazed upon 
before — Jesus folding in His arms some tender infants that were 
now brought to Him. The mothers of the district had seen how 
loving He was to aU — healing the sick, patiently teaching the 
ignorant, binding up the broken-hearted, entering the very houses 
of publicans and sinners, and inviting them to share His salva- 
tion. They thought to themselves, just as many other mothers 
in Judea and Galilee had done, ' If He be thus gentle and mer- 
ciful to grown-up people, will He have no kind word to speak to 
our little ones ? ' 

Knowing that He was on the point of leaving tlieir district, 
perhaps never to return, they came crowding around Him, bring- 
ing their children, that they might receive His blessing. 

The disciples might have known, from former experience, how 
glad their Master would be to welcome and embrace these tender 
lambs of the flock. But they were not so loving or kind as He. 
They thought that with His long journey before Him, and with 
the heavy burdens that were weighing Him down, these mothers, 
on the present occasion, at least, would only trouble Him. They 
wished to turn them away. They may have had their own ideas, 
too, as formerly, that the little children were not fit disciples and 
subjects for such a Kingdom as His. Why seek needlessly to 
engross His attention and occupy His time ? 

But the thoughts and wishes of the gracious Saviour were very 
different. He was far from being pleased with His disciples. 
He first "rebuked them ;" and then beckoning the crowd of mothers 
to His side, and taking the little ones, one after another in His 
arms (yes, the very youngest, too, in aU the crowd). He repeated 



EVENING SHADOWS. 283 

those dear words whicli most of you have been taught to learn 
by heart as your first Gospel verse — " Suffer the little children to 
come unto Me, and forlid them not, for of such is the kingdom of 
heaven." 

It is a beautiful incident this, surely, in the Divine life-story. 
Look at it ! It is the meek and lowly Jesus, not only repeating 
the encouraging saying just quoted, but as the little ones smiled 
fearless in His bosom, " He laid his hands upon them," in the 
ancient way of bestowing a special blessing. 

Ah, neither these Perean mothers nor children would ever, all 
their lives, forget that day ! Out of the mouths of many of these 
babes and sucklings praise would be perfected to Him otx earth. 
May we not farther think of some of them, or all of them, now, 
as among the holy, happy band around the Throne of Heaven, 
who are singing ' Glory ! glory ! glory ! ' ? 



XLIX. 

He Jrars of tt)e ©eatlj of iLa^arus, anti goes to Betfjang* 

What messenger is this coming in great haste to where Jesus 
was ? 

It is a man from Bethany, probably one of the villagers. He 
has come expressly all that long way, and has evidently some- 
thing very urgent to tell. 

It is a message informing Jesus that his friend Lazarus is very 
iU, It must have been a sudden sickness that had overtaken the 
brother of Martha and Mary, for we heard nothing about it when 
Jesus was so lately with them. 

Let us go in imagination to that home on the slope of Olivet. 
The two sisters have begun to feel uneasy about the one of all 
earthly relatives who was most dear to them. At first tliey 



284 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

never dreamt of danger. But as in many cases of illness, the 
ailment which at first seemed slight, got more severe. His 
cheeks became more sunk, his eyes duller, his pulse weaker. 
Their hearts now failed within them. Seated by his bedside, they 
look anxiously at one another, and scarcely like to whisper or 
avow what they both are beginning to fear. 

In their agony of mind they turn their longing thoughts to 
Him who is now" at a distance, — the Great and Good Physician ; 
— "the Meek and Lowly," yet the Mighty and the All-powerful 
Saviour. 

But is it not strange that He has not thought of theirh ? He 
knew, doubtless, all about the illness of His friend : — and such a 
friend. For I believe I am right in saying, that not even His 
own Apostles did Jesus love more than Lazarus. Why, then, has 
He not come ? Why has His footstep and gentle knock not 
been heard at their door ? And if He did not Himself hasten to 
that sickbed, they knew that He who could cure the nobleman's 
son at a distance, had only to speak the word, where He now 
was, and their brother would be restored. 

They cannot endure this silence — the anguish of delay. 
What do they resolve upon? 

They send a messenger down the Jericho road to Perea. The 
message he bears is a very short one, " Lord, hehold, he whom 
Thou lovcst is sick." They do not ask Jesus to hasten personally 
to their relief. They leave to Himself what is best to be done. 
But I thiak we may gather from the story, that they either 
expect or hope to be gladdened and comforted by His own 
presence. 

Lazarus becomes worse and worse. Death was evidently near 
at hand : a few hours more, and all will be over. You can think 
of Martha stealing again and again out of the darkened chamber 
to the roof of the house. She looks wistfully down the steep valley, 
longing either for the return of the person sent, or, what would 
be better still, for her Lord Himself She knows that every hour, 
every moment was valuable. " Why," she is ever inwardly asking, 
" oh, why does He thus tarry ? " 



The messenger at last comes back. But he has come all alone, 
and Jesus has sent no message ! 

' What ! ' the heart-broken sisters -would exclaim in sorrow and 
amazement, 'have you brought with you no word of healing nor 
even of sympathy to us from His own mouth ? ' 

Their grief is now at its height. The worst has taken place. 
The Kps and eyes of the dear brother are closed in death. 

The neighbours in the village, as was the custom, gathered in 
their house to sympathise with the bereaved. Friends from 
Jerusalem, some of these among the upper classes (priests 
and scribes), came also. There would be the hired minstrels, 
besides, wailing and beating their breasts in mock sorrow. That 
sweet, peaceful dwelling has become suddenly a house of lamen- 
tation and woe. 

Nor is this all. For after the shadows of death had fallen, 
these sisters, who must have known the touching story of the 
widow of ISTain, may have had a gleam of hope. But now even 
that is past. The last sad duty of all is discharged. In these 
hot countries the funeral takes place very soon after the death ; 
indeed, as I noted in speaking of the widow's son, the burial is 
completed, if possible, the very same day at sunset. Accordingly, 
the family cave or vault in the graveyard at Bethany had been 
opened ; the body of Lazarus was laid in its rocky-resting place, 
and the bereaved sisters had returned, bowed with sorrow, to 
their once happy, but now desolate home. 

At a time of bereavement and death, there are often some 
special words which dwell on the lips of the mourners, regardmg 
those that have been taken from them; words which, in their 
grief, have got hold of them, they know not how, and which they 
repeat over and over again almost without knowing it. What 
were these in the case of Martha and Mary ? 

" Oh, if He had been here, our Irother had not died." 

And where, you may well ask, was Jesus ? Where was He 
who loved Lazarus so much, and had such frequent joy in being 
his guest ? Can He have forgotten him at the very time when 
His presence and friendship would have been most needed and 



2 86 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

prized ? Was it like His kind heart still to be away ? Surely, 
you will say, if He sent no message, He will at all events start 
immediately after being told of the illness. What could have 
delayed Him on the road ? 

It does seem, at first, very strange, when we read as follows : — 
** When He had heard therefore that he xoas sick, He abode two days 
still in the same place where He was." 

What ! Lazarus sick, and Jesus not apparently caring ! A 
messenger specially sent to tell Him of the illness, yet Jesus not 
apparently caring! Saddest of all, Lazarus dead — Lazarus in his 
grave, and yet the kind, loving Master, who with a word could 
have healed him, still far away ! For two whole days He re- 
mained in Perea, as if nothing had taken place ! 

But Jesus has' ever wisdom and love in all that He does. 
He wished to teach Martha and Mary, He wished to teach His 
suffering people in all ages, the lesson — " Trust Me in the dark. 
If I do not all at once remove your trials from you, you may be 
sure there is some good reason for it." 

At last He tells His disciples that He is going up again to 
Judea to visit the home at Bethany. 

They say ' No : the Jews will stone Thee : it will be certain 
death to venture.' 

The Master replied, and His answer is a beautiful one, ' If a 
man wallcs under the light of God, with the sunshine of God's 
love upon him, feeling that he is doing his duty, he has never 
any cause to fear. It is only if he walks in the darkness of sin 
and unbelief and distrust, that he need be frightened and ai'raid 
of stumbling.' I should like you to read the very words of Jesus, 
— " Are there not twelve hours in the day 1 If any man walk in 
the day, he stumUeth not, because he seeth the light of this world. 
But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth, because there is no 
light in him." 

Thomas, one of the Apostles, was a cool, cautious man, more 
so than any of the rest ; but when he heard the brave words of 
his beloved Lord, he threw aside his natural calmness and re- 
straint and expressed himself willing to share every danger to 



EVENING SHADOWS. 287 

wMch Ms Master miglit "be exposed. ' If they stone Him/ he 
said, ' I am ready for His sake to be stoned too. Let us all be 
willing to give our lives for Him, if need be : ' " Lei us also go 
that we may die with Him." 

Jesus had broken the sad news about His friend to the dis- 
ciples. First He had told them that Lazarus " sleepeth ;" then 
more plainly, "Lazarus is dead." 

In awe and silence the little band proceed on their journey. 
Though little more than twenty miles from Perea to the Mount 
of Olives, they took four days to it. On the last of these they 
would likely rest for the night at the Good Samaritan's inn, half- 
way between Jericho and Jerusalem, and reach Bethany on the 
afternoon of the fourth day. 

Let us now return in thought to the scene of death. 

I think I see Mary, the younger sister, as in the accompanying 
picture, seated on the ground, barefoot and in tears, with rent 
dress and dishevelled hair — her sandals and muf&ed harp lying 
close by. The empty bed is at her side, with the now unowned 
ahhdh, so familiar to her eyes, hung above. The well-known 
pilgrim-staff, needed no more, rests on the vacant chair. The 
unused scrolls lie mute on the table, just as he left them. The 
jars with fragrant flowers and sweet herbs he loved to tend, 
now stand unheeded at the entrance-door. The sacred names 
of Jehovah, painted, as was often the custom, in Hebrew letters 
on the wall (Jehovah Jireh : Jehovah Nissi : Jehovah Shalom), can 
speak to the wounded one at present no silent word of comfort. 
Even the presence of sympathisers from village and city is hardly 
known to her. They seem to sit apart from the young mourner, 
as if afraid to intrude on the sacredness of her sorrow. She hears 
the hired wallers as though she heard them not. She sits — no 
jewel on her arm, no sandal on her feet — absorbed in the deeps 
of her own speechless grief. Nor does she seek to change her 
posture, unless it may be to rush for a moment to the window 
looking towards the Moab mountauis, — lifting her eyes to the hills, 
from whence, alas, cometh no help ! 



2 88 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Martha, on the other hand, cannot rest. She rises every now 
and then from her sister's side, and hastens up to the house-top, 
or it may be to some quiet nook in the garden, which overlooks the 
Jericho road, to see if she can descry anything of Jesus. Hearken 
to her. She is still repeating, half-aloud through her tears, " Oli, 
if He had been here, our brother would not have died ! " 

At last the well-known little company are seen in the distance. 
Soon they have reached the outskirts of the village, where you 
may think of them pausing after the fatiguing ascent under the 
shade of some olive and carob trees. 

Martha goes out by the wicket-gate to meet them, and perhaps 
to prevent them at present coming nearer the house : for she 
knew well the great danger Jesus was in from the Jews in Jeru- 
salem, She knew all about the stones they had so recently 
taken up to stone Him ; and as many Jews from the city were 
now in her home of sorrow, she might think it better to receive 
Clirist alone outside the town, and there unburden to Him her 
grief 

"When she reaches the Master's presence, the familiar words are 
the first she utters — perhaps some unkind thought of blame 
mingles with them — " Lord, if Thou hadst been here, our brother 
had not died." 

Jesus, however, has no ungracious saying in His reply. He 
comforts her. He tells her that " her brother would rise again." 

She says she knows that, — that he will rise at the last day. 
But that is not the comfort she desired now. If the grave had 
not closed over him, she would have dearly liked him back to be 
a living brother to her still on earth. 

Her Lord then utters one of those beautiful sayings which may 
well be written in golden letters — " I am the Eesuerection and 
THE Life. He that believeth on Me, though he were dead, yet shall 
he live." 

But Martha feels that she must not have all these words of 
comfort to herself. She hurries back to the room where INIary is 
still sitting, and whispers secretly to her the glad message — 
*' The Master is come, and calleth for thee ! ** 



Mary is not so prudent and cautions as her sister ; her grief 
has made her forget all about the Jews wishing to stone Jesus. 
With haste she rushes out of the house to meet her Lord. In a 
moment she is at His feet, while the same words which, like a 
strain of mournful music, had been ringing in both their ears, 
come also to her lips — " Lord, if Thou hadst been here, nfiy brother 
had not died." 

In the meantime, the Jews and the hired mourners who were 
in the house followed Mary outside. They did not hear what 
Martha had said to her. They thought she had followed her 
sister in order to weep at the side of her brother's grave. When 
they had reached the spot to which she had gone, to their amaze- 
ment Jesus of Nazareth was standing there ! 

I wonder what His disciples were thinking all this time ? 
They, too, could hardly fail to recall the scene at the gate of Nain, 
when the dead son was raised up. What was to hinder their 
Master "now, from raising up a dead brother ? 

Yes ; but the cases were very different. The widow's son had 
only died that forenoon. Lazarus had been dead four days : the 
grave had closed over him, and corruption had begun. 

It is very touching to read of the grief of these two weeping 
sisters. But what is most touching of all is when we are told 
that " Jesus wept ! " 

His human eyes were fiUed with human tears as He stood by 
His friend's grave and heard the sobs and heart-breakings around 
Him : thinking perhaps also of the miseries and sorrows which 
death and sin together had caused to the world. Surely these tears 
revealed alike how great was His grief, and how kind His heart. 

I need not dwell on the rest of the welL-known, touching story, 
— the gathering round the rocky grave, the prayer of Jesus to 
His Father, and the rolling away of the large stone at the 
entrance. Then, how, not as man, but as the great God, He cried 
with a loud voice, " Lazarus, come forth." 

Imagine the stillness of the crowd. Will the dead man hear ? 
Is his not rather a sleep far too deep to be disturbed — a sleep 
from which there is no awaking ? 

T 



290 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

There is a noise and a stir inside the vault. Oh, wonder of 
"wonders ! Lazarus was dead, but Lazarus now lives ! " And he 
that was dead came forth, hound hand and foot with grave-clothes ; 
and his face was hound about with a napki7i. Jesus saith unto 
them, Loose him, and let him go." 

You can only picture that happy return to the home close by, 
which is desolate no more : the risen man, with the flush of life 
on his cheek, restored to the embrace of his loved sisters ; and 
they \vith joyful hearts exclaiming, " This our brother was dead, 
and is alive again; he was lost, and is found." 

" From every house the neighbours met, 

The streets were filled with joyful sound ; 
A solemn gladness even crowned 
The purple brows of Olivet." ^ 

That delay of two whole days in coming to Bethany, at the 
time so strange, — Martha understands it all now. The words of 
Jesus make everything plain — " Said I not unto thee that if thou 
wouldst BELIEVE, thou shouldst SEE the glory of God ? " 

If He had cured Lazarus at once, or by merely sending a 
message (as He had done in the case of the nobleman's son and 
the Phoenician woman's daughter), how many lessons of comfort 
would have been lost to these sisters ; to those that stood by ; to 
the Church in every age ; and specially to all sad and broken 
hearts ? Think what a blank would have been in your Bibles 
if this story of sickness and death had not been there ; — Jesus 
coming, and weeping, and comforting ! 

Oh, when my young readers are brought to their first hour of 
grief, they will know what a precious chapter this is, about the 
saddened, and yet gladdened, Home of Betha>^ y ! 

' In Memoriam. 



EVENING SHADOWS. 291 



%t soesi to tfje tol»n of !Ep!)ratm, antr tijence to ^ertcfjo^ 

What a stir is caused in Jerusalem ! Two miles from the city, 
a dead man — a man for four days in his grave — has come to life 
again ! And it is Jesus of ISTazareth (who had been so nearly 
Himself stoned a few weeks ago), that has raised him u.p ! 

" Jesus must be the Messiah : — Jesus must be the Promised 
King," shout many. 

Others are only more enraged agaiast Him than ever. Some 
of these very Jews who had beheld with their own eyes the 
miracle at Bethany, instead, as they might well have done, of 
falling at His feet, and crying out ' My Lord and my God,' went 
straight from the house of Lazarus to plot His murder. 

That murder, indeed, was already secretly resolved upon by 
the great Jewish council ; at the head of which was Caiaphas, the 
High Priest, and his son-in-law, Annas. " If we Id Him alone" 
they said, " all men will believe on Sim." 

The Sadducees joined with the Pharisees in their dreadful 
purpose. The sect of the Sadducees did not believe in a resur- 
rection. They were, therefore, very angry at the alleged miracle 
of Lazarus being raised to life. 

The leaders of the council wished the dark deed done if pos- 
sible before the Passover. If they waited till the feast had 
begun, there might be many friends of Jesus present, who would 
take His part, and, perhaps, rescue Him from their vengeance. 

The Saviour would not have shrunk needlessly from danger. 
If it had been the Divine will. He would at once have bowed 
His head to the storm and said, as He did soon after, " Even so, 
Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight ! " But " the hour " of 
which He had so often spoken, had stiQ " not yet come." So He 
once more leaves Bethany, and goes to a small town or village on 



292 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

the hills at Bethel, near where Jacob slept and dreamed his 
dream. The name of the town was Ephraim. It was about 
twenty miles distant from Jerusalem. It looked down on the 
valley of the Jordan, and had a view of the grand Moab moun- 
tains, with which Jesus was now so familiar. 

The Master and His disciples remained in the breezy uplands 
of that district for some weeks. They had great need to turn 
aside and " rest awhile." And though one at least too well knew 
that the clouds were rapidly gathering for the last awful tempest, 
— here they enjoyed, brief and transient as it was, a season of 
perfect retirement. 

Doubtless, He who so much loved prayer, had many quiet 
hours of communion with His Father on these lone desolate hills. 
It would be a fitting time, too, away from the din of the city and 
the plots of His enemies, still farther to instruct His Apostles, in 
the near prospect of being taken from them, and of their being 
left to fight the battle alone. 

At last the appointed hour really has arrived. He must turn 
His steps towards the city and scene of His death. On leaving 
the place of their present sojourn, the sacred writer teUs us 
specially, that Jesus walked in front of His disciples. 

They followed at a little distance ; and as they followed Him 
" tlic]] were afraid." It was a new feeling to them ; for they had 
never before any cause of dread in the presence of so loving a 
Master. They knew, however, from His look of pensive sadness 
and His strange silence, that there was something, more than 
common, brooding in that great heart of His. 

The crowds are beginning to throng the green valley below, 
on their way to the Passover ; some on mules, camels, and asses ; 
some on foot, carrying branches of palm and myrrh, their voices 
tuned to the Paschal songs. It was again that season of the year 
we have more than once noted, when the corn was ripening, 
the birds singing, and the flowers gaily fringing every crag of 
white limestone. As The Twelve were still walking on by 
themselves, separated a few paces from their Master, Jesus 



EVENING SHADOWS. 293 

stops, and calls tliem near to Him. He has sometliing very 
solemn to say. 

He had told them often before of His coming sufferings, even 
of His approaching death. But He had kept from them till now 
the most startling part of the revelation. What was that ? 

It was, not only that He was to be betrayed and scourged, 
mocked, and insulted ; but, oh, most dreadful and shameful of all, 
He was to be ceucified ! It was the death reserved for the 
meanest slave. They all knew too well the horror of the words 
" Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree ! " 

Yet, too, how little did those disciples seem really to under- 
stand the full force of His announcement ! His own thoughts 
were about deep sorrow and humiliation — His anguish and 
bloody sweat, His Cross and Passion. They, poor, frail men, 
were dreaming still of some grand empire with crowns and 
thrones : about their Lord and Master being King, and they His 
" satraps " or courtiers. They began the old strife, as to " which 
of them should be the greatest ; " which should have the chief 
seats of honour nearest Him in the new kingdom. 

Alas ! they would ere long discover, that it was a far different 
crown and sceptre which were to be placed on the head and in 
the hands of their suffering Eedeemer. They thought they would 
be quite able to drink of His cup. We shaU come soon to find how 
hollow their boast was, and how sadly their ability failed them ! 

It was in all likelihood on a Thursday, that they had thus 
joined one of the bands of worshippers on one of the great 
roads of Palestine north of Jericho. There would probably be a 
number of their old Galilean acquaintances in the same caravan : 
they may have made previously some agreement to meet, and 
complete the rest of the journey in one another's company. We 
like to have beloved relatives with us or near us in a season of 
sore anxiety and trouble : it would be a comforting thought to 
the lone sad heart of Jesus, that so many of His dearest friends 
would be in Jerusalem at the time of His sufferings. Among 
the friends they had now joined would very possibly be the 
Mother of the Saviour ; His cousins ; and the holy women who 



294 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

ministered to Him, and wlio were ere long to minister more 
lovingly than ever at His cross and at His grave. We are specially 
told that Salome, the mother of James and John, was there. 

In many former years, that Passover journey had been a 
peculiarly joyous occasion to one, of that pilgrim band to whom I 
have just referred : — going up with her dear Son, first from 
Nazareth and afterwards from the Lake. But His manner, His 
appearance. His words, all tell her too faithfully now, as they had 
already done His disciples, that there is an hour of darkness and 
mystery at hand. She would still, however, as before, keep all 
these fears locked up in her heart. 

The caravan is coming near the famous city of Jericho. 



LI. 

f^e passrg tljroutj!) 3ertcf)o, anti cures Blmti Barttmcus* 

Jericho is now, like Bethany, a cluster of ruins. When there, 
a fellow-traveller and myself were asked by some of the wild- 
looking people to go and visit an old dying man in the middle 
of their village. We were in that way better able to see the 
wretchedness of their hovels, and to get a glimpse of their savage 
looks and life. In the present aspect of the place there is a sad 
change indeed from the City of lialsam and palm-trees, orange 
and olive groves. A whole forest of palms used to stretch from 
the outer walls to the Jordan, and for miles on every side. Now 
no tree is left to give a trace of the ancient name ; nor one relic 
of the balsam plantations, yielding the ' Balm of Gilead,' whose 
perfume had a reputation among all the bazaars and luxurious 
cities of the East, in the time of the Jewish historian. I could 
see little in the shape of vegetation, excepting the thorny nabk, 
and some dwarf bushes bearing beautiful little fruit of a red 



EVENING SHADOWS. 295 

waxy colour (" Apples of Sodom ? "). The only green sliady spot 
left near it, is the Fountain of Elisha, with its unusually clear 
gushing water. No remains are to be found of the vast buildings ; 
— the walls with their massive gates, and corner forts, — the 
temples and theatres and circus, wdth which Herod the Great 
had strengthened and adorned his favourite city, and upon which 
the eyes in that gathering of Paschal worshippers must now have 
fallen, as they were approaching its northern entrance. 

Jesus, we read, and the pilgrim company, " passed through " the 
city. The crowd was becoming gradually larger. They would 
seem to have been leaving the western gate fronting the Valley 
of Achor, when, amid the noise and turmoil, a voice is heard 
calling aloud. Who is this ? 

It is one of the row of beggars that were wont to sit, as they 
still do, outside the gates of cities in the East. His name is 
given to us, — Bartimeus the son of Timceus. 

That poor man's case was a very sad one. He was not only a 
beggar, covered with rags, and thankful for the smallest pittance 
from the passers-by ; but he w^as smitten with the blindness we 
have already found to be so common in the Holy Land. He had 
sat there for years in the brightest noonday, but that noon was 
all darkness to him. There was now the blue sky of April above 
him, but he saw it not. There was the green flush of spring on 
that great garden of South Palestine — a gorgeous carpet of daisies 
and anemones, yet he saw them not. There were the deep 
glorious shadows and crimson tints on the near mountains of 
Moab and Gilead, yet he saw them not. The very stars which 
glanced and gleamed like diamonds in the midnight heavens were 
all a dream to him ; he had heard about them — no more. Oh, how 
he longed like others, his fellow-sufferers, of whom we have pre- 
viously spoken, to have his eyes opened to enjoy God's best gift in 
outer nature — the sweet, blessed, cheerful light of day ! His rags 
and his beggary were bad enough ; but it was the life of perpetual 
darkness that was worst of all to bear: — every day groping his 
ivay to the same place ; the same hum of voices passing and 
repassing ; the same tramp of feet ; — soldiers from Herod's palace 



296 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

and barracks ; priests from this Levite city on their way to Jeru- 
salem ; Essenes from the desert, unsandalled and unshorn, mutter- 
ing their prayers as they flitted by ; pedlars hawking their wares ; 
workmen hastening to their work ; the women with their pitchers 
going to Elisha's fountain for water ; the merry laugh of children 
running by their side ; — he heard all this, but he saw nothing ! 

For days together, at this j)articular time of which I speak, 
there has been more of a noise and bustle, owing to the eager 
multitude flecking up to the greatest of the annual feasts. 

Blind men are very quick in hearing. Bartimeus hears it 
whispered among the crowd — " Jesus of Nazareth is coming ! " 

He is all eager to listen. The name and fame and miracles of 
Christ could not be strange to him. He, doubtless, had heard 
how that gracious Wonder-worker had already cured blind people, 
and given them sight, both in Judea and Galilee. 

There is no time to hesitate. "Jesus of Nazareth is passing hi/." 
If he does not speak to Him and plead with Him at once, he may 
lose the opportunity. It may be his one chance. It would have 
been his one, his last chance ; for we do not read of Jesus ever 
again coming or going that way. 

As the crowd are surgmg by, the blind man cries m the loudest 
tones he can, " Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me ! " 

Not only the general throng, but even the friends and followers 
of the Saviour, are displeased with the suppliant. They speak 
some angry words to him. They teU him to " hold his peace " — 
to cease his pleadings ; there was no time for the caravan to halt 
for such as he ! 

Does Bartimeus give heed to these silencing voices, and resign 
all hope ? 

No ; they may say what things they choose, they cannot hush 
the cry of faith. He only raises the accents of his voice higher 
and louder amid the buzz of the crowd, and shouts, " Jesus, thou 
Son of David, have mercy upon me ! " 

The Master, who had showed so lately His love for helpless 
babes and prattling children, now shows His love and pity for this 
friendless, stricken sufferer. He heard the voice : — that voice 



EVENING SHADOWS. 297 

stopped Him. It is a wonderful instance, surely, of what the cry 
and prayer of faith can do. Jesus stood still ! 

This was not all. He told those around Him to bring the 
suppliant near. 

Some of the kinder amongst them hastened to the blind 
man with the joyful words, " Be of good cheer ; rise, He calleth 
thee!' 

Bartimeus throws aside His ragged cloak, and comes to Jesus. 
The Saviour looks upon him with divine pity, and puts forth on 
his behalf divine power. His sight is restored ! 

*' Mourning, I sat beside the way, 

In sightless gloom apart ; 
And sadness heavy on me lay, 

And longing gnawed my heart. 
I heard the music of the psalms 

Thy people sang to Thee ; 
I felt the waving of their palms, 

And yet I could not see. 

" But words of Thine can never fail ; 

My fears are past and o'er : 
My soul is glad with light, — the veil 

Is on my heart no more. 
A sudden answer stilled my fear. 

For it was said to me — 
' sightless one ! be of good cheer ; 

Arise ! He calleth thee.'" ^ 

All the wonderful beauties of nature in a moment burst upon 
him — the sky, the clouds, the hills, the streams ! 

But I think there is One Object, above all others, his eye 
would most fondly rest upon. 

Yes, it would surely be Jesus Himself, his kind Deliverer. 
He cannot leave Him. He follows the footsteps of the gracious 
Physician, up the steep road, with songs of praise ; and many others 

^ Lyra Germanica. 



in the crowd, who had seen the miracle, break forth into thanks- 
givings also. I like the idea in a great picture I saw lately, of 
Christ entering Jerusalem in triumph, three days after. Barti- 
meus is there, waving his palm branch, and shouting his 
Hosanna to One Brighter than that bright sun his eyes had so 
recently for the first time beheld ! 

" I will praise Thee, Sun of Glory ! 

For tliy beams have gladness brought. 
I will praise Thee and adore Thee 

For the light I vainly sought ; 
Thou didst come my soul to cheer, 
Shme, Eternal Sunbeam, here !" * 



It was on this same interesting occasion that Jesus called 
Zacclreus the publican, and added him also to the number of His 
disciples. 

I remarked before, in speaking about St. Matthew, upon the usual 
greed and extortion of these publicans. The sight of them was 
most hateful to the Jews. Zaccheus would not likely be an 
exception to the general rule. 'No city in Palestine, indeed, gave 
a better opportunity for levying tax-money than Jericho. Fruits 
and perfumes alone (from its miles of tropical gardens) would 
yield to a greedy exactor an enormous revenue. But Christ once 
more shows what the power of His grace can do. 

You know the story well. The little man (for he was small 
of stature) climbing up among the thick branches of the avenue 
of sycamore-trees (" fig mulberries ") which lined the road : Jesus 
seeing him — calling him down — calling him by name — speaking 
kindly to him ; — yes, so kindly to a man who was thus hated by 
all others for his mean trade and mean ways ; — " 3fake haste and 
come dovjn, Zaccheus, for to-day I must abide at thy house." Then 
the narrative further tells, how the once grasping publican 
received the gracious Prophet and Healer as a guest at his table: 

^ Hymns from the Land of Luther, 



EVENING SHADOWS. 299 

how, touched by the loving heart and loving ways of Jesus, he 
resolved, from that .day henceforth, to end his base, cheating, 
covetous practices ; — to give the half of all he had to the poor, and 
to pay back, four times over, his past unfair and dishonest gains. 
Oh, what a happy word that was the Saviour of the guilty 
and the lost addressed to him — " This day is salvation come to this 



Jesus proceeds on His way from Jericho. 

It is along the same road He had now so often travelled, and 
which I have already described, — begmning with one of the 
grandest valleys in the south of Palestine, now called Wcidy Kelt. 
Eugged precipices are overhead, where eagles build their eyries, and 
splintered rocks are down below, where the winter torrent, fringed 
with oleander and thorn, rushes to the plain of Jericho : then 
the same treeless, dreary ascent for miles together, with not even 
so much as a tuft of grass, up " The Eobbers' Valley," to Olivet 
and Zion. 

Though steep. King Herod had made this road a good one. I 
daresay he had often himself driven by it in his chariot to and 
from Jerusalem. Pieces of the solid Eoman pavement still 
remain. 

There would only be two pausing places then, as now, for the 
refreshment of travellers. In these dry and thirsty lands, as you 
know, it is always where a well is to be found that the camels 
and asses are unladen and the tents are pitched. There happen 
to be only two such fountains in all that wild and burning 
stretch. The one at the Good Samaritan's Inn, of which I pre- 
viously told you, three hours from Jericho ; the other, just as 
beautiful Bethany begins to peep out from its nest of olives. 
This fatter has the touching name given to it of " The Fountain 
of the Apostles." I have called it the 'touching name,' because 
it seems to recall the picture of a tired and weary company of 
disciples and their Master thankfully resting on its rim of stone 
under the dripping rock. What was said of another Well, with 
whose interesting story you are familiar, was doubtless often 



300 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

equally true of this one, " Je&us heing weary with His journey, sai 
tluis on the well : " — asking, perhaps, some chance Betliany 
villagers, who had come to draw water, to let down their pitchers 
and allow Him and His travel-worn friends to quench their 
thirst. As we dismounted at that sacred stone-trough, under the 
ruined arch, could we help thinking of Him ? Fatiguing enough 
every traveller finds the hot journey even on horseback : — what 
must it have been to climb, as we know the Pilgrim of Pilgrims 
did, that sultry ascent on foot ! 

It was probably on Friday afternoon that Jesus reached Beth- 
any, and next day was the Jewish Sabbath. The vast caravan, 
with which He had travelled for two days, would now leave Him. 
Instead of turning (as Jle did) by the path to the right, which 
led to the village, the other festal worshippers would continue 
their way across the shoulder of the Mount of Olives. On the 
backs of their asses, mules, and camels, there would be slung a 
number of tent-poles and rolls of canvas. Before sunset (at which 
time the Jewish Sabbath began) these wooden poles and bundles 
would be taken down, and the Paschal tents would be pitched 
somewhere on the green grass of the mountain, or along the gorge 
of the Kedron. Many other similar huts would already be 
erected by those of the travellers who had arrived. Indeed at 
this sacred season there was quite a little pilgrim city outside 
the walls of Jerusalem, besides the vast multitude of strangers 
who were lodged in the houses within. 

The disciples would, doubtless, accompany Jesus to Bethany. 

How pleasant it would be for Martha, Mary, and Lazarus to 
welcome their kind Friend again ! How much they would have 
to speak about ! If He were loved before in that home. He 
would now be loved more than ever. 

And yet the hearts of the sisters could not fail to be oppressed 
with new and peculiar anxieties ; not only because of the danger 
to which their gracious Lord was exposed from the Jews in 
Jerusalem, but they knew that these same Jews were already 
plotting the death of their own dear brother also. The miracle 
of his resurrection had led many to believe on Jesus, and the 



EVENING SHADOWS. 301 

chief rulers disliked the thought of the most important witness 
to that deed of divine power being allowed to live. 

How lamentable was the wilful, wayward unbelief of these 
leaders of the nation ! They were, alas ! shutting their eyes 
against the Light of the Glorious Sun ! Again, how sadly did 
their case illustrate the words, we have more than once quoted, 
spoken to Mcodemus : — " This is the condemnation, that Light 
has come into the world, and men loved daekness rather than 
Light!" 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 

' AT EVENING TIME IT SHALL BE LIGHT." — ZeCH. XIV. 7. 

JESUS SAID, NOW IS THE SON OF MAN GLORIFIED, AND GOD IS GLORI- 
FIED IN HIM. IF GOD BE GLORIFIED IN HIM, GOD SHALL ALSO 
GLORIFY HIM IN HIMSELF, AND SHALL STRAIGHTWAY GLORIFY 

HIM."— John xiii. 31, 32, 

■ let not your heart be troubled : ye believe in god, believe 
also in me. in my father's house are many mansions : if it 
were not so, i would have told you. i go to prepare a 
place for you. and if i go and prepare a place for you, i 
will come again, and receive you unto myself ; that where 
i am, there ye may be also." — ^john xiv. i-3. 

' a little while, and ye shall not see me: and again a little 
while, and ye shall see me ; because i go to the father." — 
John xvi. i6. 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 305 

LIL 

f^e tg cntertameti at a jfeast in Betfjang. 

The Evening Shadows in the life of Jesns, as we have seen, were 
fast falling. He — the Di^dne Sun of Righteousness — was wading 
through storm-clouds : — these, too, increasing and deepening all 
over the horizon. But as bright rays, like parting smiles in death, 
are often observed, in outer nature, breaking through the gloomiest 
western sky ; — so it was in the closing scenes of the Great " Light 
of the world." One of these farewell gleams — " Gleams before 
Sunset " — we are to speak of now ; and others will follow. 

On the Sabbath evening (the day after the Saviour's arrival) 
there was a feast given in the Bethany Home, evidently in 
honour of the Divine Guest. It would seem as if the family 
had expected His coming, for many Jews had crossed the hill 
in order to meet Jesus as well as to see Lazarus. 

Though this supper was given by Martha, Mary, and their 
Brother, it is said to have taken place in " the house of Simon the 



I have no doubt you will ask, who was Simon ? 

I cannot positively tell you. It has been thought (and the 
idea is an interesting one, and not certainly improbable) that he 
may have been the father of the household ; — that being a leper, he 
had been obliged, hitherto, like all such sufferers, to live by him- 
self ; — but that Jesus — the leper's Friend, as we have already 
seen Him to be in far-off Galilee — had mercifully cured him. 

Simon's heart was full of gratitude to the Great Physician. 
If it were indeed the case that he was the head of the famOy, the 
good and gracious Prophet of Nazareth had restored to him also 
his own, his only son, the pride and joy of his home. A touch- 
ing picture would thus be brought before us ; the healed father 

u 



3o6 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

and the living son seated at the same table together, gazing with 
fond love and wonder on their Great Deliverer; — the voice of 
rejoicing and of salvation in that tabernacle of the righteous ! 

Jesus was reclining on a couch by the side of the table. All 
the rest of the family seem to have been present to the close of 
the entertainment, except Mary. Where has she gone ? 

By-and-by we see her coming behind her divine Lord. 
Kneeling down, she breaks a box filled with precious ointment ; 
so precious, as to be worth £io oi our English money ; then she 
pours its contents first on His head and then on His feet. Not 
content with this, she takes the long tresses of her hair, and wipes 
His feet with them. 

Even could the deed have been done in silence, it would soon 
have made itself known ; for the ointment was fragrant, and the 
whole house was filled with the odour. 

What a beautiful token this was of her devotion and love ! 
That alabaster casket was likely the most valued thing she had 
in her possession ; perhaps some gift she had received long ago, 
and which she had been treasuring iip to use on some fitting 
occasion. That occasion has now come. On whom can her 
grateful heart more joyously bestow it than on Him she had such 
cause to adore and reverence. She felt nothing could be too 
good or too costly to offer so kind and gracious a Saviour and 
Friend. In addition to what He had done for her own soul, she 
owed to Him what was to her the most valued life (or lives) in all 
the world. We shall presently see how gratefully that deed of 
love was accepted and acknowledged by Him who was the Object 
of it! 

While, however, Mary was busy bestowing her costly offering, 
the disciples looked at one another. 

They were poor men, and did not like to see valuable things 
thrown away. Their Master had taught them to be kind, and to 
give alms to the needy. He had praised a poor widow for put- 
ting her little mite into the Temple treasury-box. He had 
spoken severely about a rich man, who had neglected the poor at 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. ' 307 

his gate, and spent all upon himself, — on Ms dress, and Ms table. 
Only tMee days before, He had been pleased a!; hearing Zacchens 
say that he would give the half of his goods to feed the poor. 
It may have seemed strange, then, when they saw Mary breaMng 
her beautiful white casket, that Jesus should allow such waste. 
Might not the money have been better employed ? 

One of their number spoke Ms thoughts aloud. He was very 
angry about the matter, although his anger, as we shall presently 
find, proceeded from the basest motives. ' If I only had possessed 
tMs alabaster box,' said Judas, ' I might have sold it for a large 
sum.' " ISTot that he cared for the poor." If the box had really 
fallen into his hands, doubtless he would have managed to take 
for his own use a goodly portion, at least, of the money obtained 
for it. 

Jesus knew weU. the greedy purposes of that wicked man. 
He saw, too, that Mary was troubled about such ungenerous 
thoughts regarding her ointment. She, meek and lowly like her 
Master, is silent under these cutting sayings. But He who loved 
to see her gratitude and devotion, and who was cheered with this 
little gleam of Kght in His own " cloudy and dark day," is not 
silent. He speaks kindly words about her ; and at once puts an 
end to these captious objections. He said, " Do not trouble her ; 
she has done a good work in putting this ointment on My head 
and feet. It is as if she were anointing My body for My coming 
death and burial. Tlie, 'poor ye have, always with you, lout Me ye 
have not always!' 

Alas ! this incident was, as I have called it, but " a little 
gleam of light." The clouds speedily close again. 

Judas had hitherto appeared, like his brother Apostles, to love 
Ms Master. But what had now taken place, while it fatally 
crossed his hopes, revealed at the same time the hoUowness of 
Ms affection. The vile purpose in his heart gets the better of 
him. Tni shortly before this period, as we have seen, he had 
clung to the thought, ia common with the others, of Jesus found- 
ing a temporal kingdom. He would seem, moreover, to have had 



3o8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN, 

deeper and more selfish designs, in the prospect of such a king- 
dom, known only to himself. He had evidently, with cunning 
forethought, laid his plans to become its royal treasurer. By having 
charge of the King's money, he would have ample scope to satisfy 
his own avarice. But now all these covetous dreams and long- 
ings are at an end. He whom he had hoped thus to hail as a great 
Sovereign, had just spoken of His " dead body " and His " burial." 
Judas wished no such Lord and Euler as this. He was soon to 
show how poor and insincere the attachment was, that could be 
tampered with (yes, and lought), for a few glittering silver coins ! 

He left the feast in the house of Simon, and plunged out into 
the dark night. 

Going straight to Jerusalem, he has his first secret interview 
with the priestly leaders of the nation — entering into a shameful 
compact with them to betray his Lord for far less than the 
worth of Mary's alabaster box. For thirty Jewish shekels the 
ungrateful, mean-souled man, has agreed to deliver up the 
kindest and best of Masters. The paltry bribe was the price at 
which a slave could be ransomed ; or, to put it in another shape, if 
a slave had been accidentally gored by an animal, it was the sum 
which the master of the slave got as " compensation " from the 
animal's owner ! (Exodus xxi. 3 2). We shall come, farther on, 
to find how the base bargain was carried to completion. 

Such an act as that of Judas stands alone in the world's his- 
tory. And yet, let my young readers remember, that this miser- 
able traitor was at one time an innocent child playing at his 
mother's feet, with no thought of a future so dark with guilt and 
despair. His black crime reads, surely, a terrible lesson as to 
what one sin in the heart, if indulged, may lead. Judas loved 
money ; and see what were the results of his greedy thoughts and 
greedy deeds. The two texts resound over his grave with an 
awful warning — " Hardened through the deceitfulness of sin" — " II 
WERE BETTER FOR THAT MAN IF HE HAD NEVER BEEN BORN ! " 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 309 

LIII 

^t crosses in trtumpi} ttje Mount of ©Itbes* 

The first time I went to Bethany, I took the steep path which 
goes straight across the Mount of Olives from Jerusalem. This 
is the shortest way to it. But the principal road — ^what must 
have been in former days the great highway — winds along by the 
south side of the mountain. 

In coming from Jericho, after passing Bethany, this same road 
suddenly turns to the right, and the first glimpse of the Holy City 
is obtained. It there continues down a steep slope, at the foot of 
which there is a sharp angle, and then a gradual ascent. Tlie 
opposite summit being gained, a wonderful view reveals itself. 
Though the gorge of the Kedron is between, the whole of 
Jerusalem rises up aU at once like a beautiful vision, with its 
walls and towers and domes. 

The sight is striking, even now, and one never to be forgotten. 
What then must it have been in the time of which I am now 
speaking, when the glorious Temple was there in its full grandeur, 
with its gilded roofs and marble colonnades ; beyond it the great 
towers of Herod ; also Herod's palace, standing conspicuous, on the 
heights of Mount Zion ! Truly, in the words of the prophet, it 
must have looked " a crown of glory in the hand of the Lord, and 
a royal diadem in the hand of our God." 

Think v/ith what pride these crowds I have recently described 
must have gazed on all this ; think specially with what joy and 
wonder the youths, who had come up for the first time to attend 
the Feast, must have looked across to that " Jerusalem," whose 
name they had been taught to Usp and love on their mother's 
knee ! It must have been far more splendid than their best 
thoughts could have pictured it to be. How would the words of 
one of their favourite psalms come to mind, and perhaps be 



3IO BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



repeated aloud by many lips — " Beautiful for situation, the joy of 
the whole earth is Mount Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of 
the Great King ! " 

It is now the first day of the Passover week (corresponding 
with our Sunday). Many pilgrim bands and caravans are coming 
across at sunrise by this same road. They have been travelling 
all night by the light of the stars and of the Passover moon. 
Droves of lambs also, for Passover offerings, are occasionally seen. 
Some of these are on the highway ; others are resting beside their 
shepherds close by, and nibbling the young grass on the hillside. 
j\Iany of them would be set apart that same afternoon for sacri- 
fice. 

The early morning hours are now past. But what is this ? 

The crowds from the direction of Bethany seem all at once 
to have increased. It is not one group of travellers that is now 
seen ; many of them appear to have mingled, and are joining in 
loud exclamations as they come slowly along. 

There is some one in the midst, seated on an animal, numbers 
pressing around Him. Those who are leading the colt or foal 
have put their upper cloaks on its back, as a cushion or saddle- 
cloth ; others of the pilgrims are strewing their garments on the 
road to form a sort of carpet for this Eider. Their cry becomes 
more distinct as they come nearer. It is the shout of many 
voices — Hosanna ! Hosanna ! Hosanna I 

What can this mean ? "Hosanna" though but one word, was, 
as I formerly told you in speaking of the Feast of Tabernacles, 
the nation's brief prayer for its coming Messiah, and the nation's 
shout of welcome to Him. 

Need I tell you who it is who is thus riding along in royal 
state ? 

It is the Eedeemer coming in triumph from Bethany to Jeru- 
salem ! 

An old prophet, called Zechariah, had thus, many hundred 
years before, written about Him, and about this very day — 
" Rejoice greatly, daughter of Zion ; shout, daughter of Jeru- 
salem : behold, thy King cometh unto thee : He is just, and having 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 311 

salvation; lowly and riding upon an ass, and iipon a colt the foal 
of an ass." 

The prophet's words are now fulfilled. It is Jesus, and still 
" the meek and lowly Jesus." But He is coming as King to His 
own Zion. 

Lately, we spoke of Him as a weary, tired traveller, walking 
up the hot stifling valleys from Jericho on foot. Now He is 
mounted on the animal which the old princes and prophets, the 
rulers and judges of Israel, were wont to ride upon rare and 
public occasions. Horses were used in the chariots of war ; asses 
were used as symbols of peace. I should tell you that these 
latter are not the despised animals in Eastern countries which 
they often are with us. I was much struck with the beauty, and 
even grace, of some I saw in Palestine and Syria. 

Why, you may perhaps ask, did Jesus make use of one of 
these now ? He was not in the habit of having such help in 
His journeys. And, surely, there never was an occasion when 
He less needed it than the present, for He had enjoyed a whole 
Sabbath-day's rest at Bethany ; and Jerusalem, where He was 
going, was only the short distance of two miles. Nor, need I 
add, did He ever care about ' show ' or ' appearance.' You will 
remember one time, when they wished very much to make Him 
a King, He positively refused. Why then, at this particular 
season, does He ride in royal majesty, and be willing to receive 
the hosannas of the crowd ? 

I answer, first ; He wished, for once, to teU the Jews, who had 
rejected Him and tried to stone Him, that He was really the 
Son of God, and the Great Messiah. 

Nor was this His only or His chief reason. He was to suffer 
death that week, — to die for the sins of the world. He desired 
by this public entry into Jerusalem to attract attention to His 
Great Sacrifice, and to Himself the great Victim. He wished to 
show who the true Paschal Lamb really was, and to whom aU. 
these thousands on thousands of innocent animals which were 
to be killed, pointed. 

I may add another reason, — as He was in a few days to be 



312 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

stripped of robe and mantle and to be nailed to a cross of shame, 
He wishes, once pit^least, to give His own Apostles, and all His 
faithful disciples then gathered at the Feast, a glimpse of His 
royalty and glory. He permits mantles to be spread in homage 
on His royal pathway : He allows the crowd to indulge in shouts 
of royal welcome ! 

Just after the procession had left Bethany, they obtained that 
view, I have already described, of a part of the hill of Zion. It 
embraced the site of King David's palace, and also of his tomb. 
The rest of the city is meanwhile hidden by the shoulder of the 
Mount of Olives. But that glimpse is enough to remind them 
that Messiah was to be " King David's kingly Son," — the Son 
who was to " reign in righteousness ; " and they add, therefore, to 
their shout of Hosanna, — " Hosanna to the Son of David ! Blessed 
is He that cometh in the name of the lord. Blessed is the kingdom 
that cometh of our father David ! " 

Perhaps the disciples might once more be led to think in their 
simplicity that the doom of the Eoman has come, — that, after all, 
their dreams are yet to be made true, and their lowly Master is 
to become King of Judea. 

The crowd was gradually becoming larger. Those who, the even- 
ing before, had seen Jesus at Bethany, had returned to Jerusalem 
and spread the news of His arrival there. Many of the pilgrims 
inside the city, including a number of His own disciples, went 
forth to meet Him and to join the triumphal procession. As 
they flocked up the side of the Mount of Olives, they cut down 
branches of the fig and olive and palm from the groves and 
gardens all along the slope ; — trees which fell by the axes of the 
Eonians many years afterwards, and which have never grown 
again. These branches were spread alongside the Eider's way ; 
while the long fronds of the palm are waved before Him. 
Thousands of new voices swell the same cry, " Blessed is He that 
cometh in the name of the Lord!' 

You know, doubtless, of what palm-branches were the sym- 
bols ? 



They were a double emblem of gladness and of triumph. You 
remember the beautiful passage in Eevelation (written by one 
who was with his Master now on Olivet and witnessed the 
present scene), — where the happy white-robed company in heaven 
are spoken of as having the palms of joy and victory in their 
hands ? (Eev. vii. 9). 

The two processions, the one coming from Bethany, the other 
from Jerusalem, would probably meet down in that hollow at the 
angle of the road of which I have just told you. Those from Jeru- 
salem would then turn round and precede the Eedeemer : while 
those I have first spoken of would come after Him. St. Mark 
alludes; to this when he says — " They that went lefore, and they 
that followed, cried Hosanna." The two streams thus uniting, a 
shout, loud as the noise of many waters, went up. It would be 
heard among the Paschal tents pitched on the Mount, and echoed 
in the courts of the Temple. 

The words of the Angels' Hymn, sung at the birth of Jesus 
over the plains of Bethlehem, would beautifully mingle with 
David's name, and David's Psalm, " Hosanna to the Son of David. 
Peace in Heaven and GLORY in the highest ! " 

" Eide on ! ride on in majesty ! 
Hark ! all the tribes Hosanna cry : 
O Saviour, meek, pursue Thy road 
With palms and scattered garments strewed. 

" Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 
In lowly pomp ride on to die : 
Christ, Thy triumphs now begin 
O'er captive death and conquered sin." 

The procession advances, and the shouts get louder and louder 
as they reach that spot where Jerusalem comes in sight. 



314 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

LIV. 

I^e ixieeps obcr Srrusalrm, anti t!}rn enters ti)e Cttij* 

But something startling here takes place. 

When all the others are singing their loud songs and waving 
their emblems of triumph ; while every other eye is beaming with 
gladness, there is One filled with tears. 

It is the triumphant Saviour Himself. He reins in the animal 
on which He is mounted ; and gazing across on the walls and 
palaces, the Temple and towers, which have just risen in view, 
the tears flow down His cheeks ; — " When He came near, He 
hcheld the city, and wept over it !" 

Yes, how strange seem these tears ! We did not so much 
wonder at His weeping at Bethany, for that was a scene of 
sorrow and death, and He was the tender, sympathising man, as 
well as the Great God. But strange, in the midst of loud shouts 
of joy, — He, too, the hero of the hour, that we should read — 
"Jesus wept ! " 

Do you ask why He wept ? 

It is not difficult to answer. He knew, what none of these 
eager multitudes did, that, not many years hence, all that splendid 
vision would melt away ; that at a future Paschal feast the 
Eoman armies would be encamped on the very spot where the 
palm-branches were now strewn ; that millions would perish in 
the devoted city on which He now gazed : while of that snow- 
white Temple and these great walls, whose stones look as if 
giants had raised them, it would be too truthfully said — " There 
shall not be left one stone upon another that shall not he throvm 
do'ivri." Perhaps, more than all, He weeps because He thinks of 
tJie sin that will cause this misery, and bring about the entire 
i:uin of the nation ! 

These tears Christ shed were not ordinary ones. It is worth 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 315 

noting, that the word used about His weeping at the grave of 
Lazarus, is a different one from what is used about His weeping 
over Jerusalem. The one speaks of silent tears, the other of a loud 
lament, a bitter weeping as if His heart would break. If you 
read the passage for yourselves, you will see that the sorrow of 
Jesus was so great that it choked His words. He could not, 
for the sobs of grief, say all that He intended to say. " If 
thou" are His words, " hadst known, even thou in this thy day, the 
things that helong to thy feace" — then there is a stop, a pause, as 
if unable to finish the sentence — " tut now" He adds, " they are 
hid from thine eyes ! " 

When I stood on that spot in early spring, I remember well 
it was sprinkled thick with red anemones. The Christian pil- 
grims in Palestine call these flowers by the touching name of 
"the Saviour's blood-drops." He shed His tears on this spot, 
and He could almost see from it the olive grove, where, in a 
few days more, blood would fall in sacred drops from His brow 
and stain the green sward at His feet. 

After this affecting pause, the " King of the Jews " — for King He 
was — moves on. The procession descends the road to the right, 
past the Garden of Gethsemane. Crossing the brook Kidron, they 
enter the streets of the city. 

All there is noise and excitement. The people are leaning 
out of their windows, or stooj)ing over the ledge of their flat 
roofs. As they hear the shouts, and see the waving of the 
palm branches, they cry, " Who is this ? " 

Then the Temple - gate is reached. Jesus dismounts and 
enters it. 

For the second time He drives out the money-changers who, 
with their noise and shameless bargaining and traffic, had made 
His Father's house like a robber's den. 

When order was restored, He soon got a crowd of hearers 
gathered round about Him. But what dehghted Him most of 
all, were the Hosannas, which had ceased for the time on the lips 
of others, but which still arose from the lips of children in the 
Temple. 



3i6 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

The chief priests said nothing about the praise which had been 
uttered by grown-up Jews ; but when they heard the tender 
voices of the little ones take up the Hosanna-song, we are told 
" they were sore displeased." 

Jesus was not displeased. We may believe no garlands cast 
at His feet that day on the road from Bethany were half so 
beautiful as those thrown by the hands of young worshippers. 
No music that He heard that day was half so sweet to Him as 
when " the children of Zion were joyful in their King ! " He 
answered, " Ham ye never read. Out of the mouth of hales and 
sucldings, Thou hast perfected praise."^ 

What a beautiful incident this triumphant entrance of Jesus 
was ! How worthy of the Prince of Peace ! At that very time, 
Eome often had her great processions too, from her Capitol up to 
what she called ' The Sacred Mount.' But they were the pro- 
cessions of war-horses and war-chariots, — of w^eeping men and 
women, — of chained slaves, and wailing captives. How different 
from the present ! Who were some among the rejoicing multi- 
tudes that followed in the train of Jesus ? There were the 
cripples He had healed ; the blind whose eyes He had opened ; 
the lepers He had restored to health and home and friends ; the 
dumb whose lips He had unsealed. Each was bearing his palm- 
branch in this march of peace ! Yes, and as we have seen, 
children, too, are there, lining the royal procession with their tiny 
branches and flower-wreaths, attracted by the gentleness of the 
Divine Eider's ways and the sweetness of His voice. 

Alas ! Jesus too well knew, that before these strewn palm- 
leaves were withered, some of the voices which were now shout- 
ing Hosanna, would be crying " Crucify Him ! crucify Him ! " 

In the evening of the day He and His disciples went out to 
beloved Bethany. 

^ In the accompanying illustration, the Mount of Olives covered with tents, 
and the Hosanna road which the Redeemer had just ci'ossed, are in the dis- 
tance. The steep footpath leading to Bethany (that generally taken by Him 
and His disciples), is seen on the left, with the Garden of Gethsemane below. 



c^ -^ 




GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 317 



LY. 

%z foretells tjje ©rstruction of t|}e temple, anti is ftirtfjer 
ietrasetr lig Sutias. 

In the early morning, both of Monday and Tuesday, Jesus went 
into Jerusalem from Bethany, and taught in the Temple, On 
these two days He delivered some of His most solemn discourses 
and parables. 

He left the sacred courts on Tuesday afternoon never again to 
return. Can you remember the words which He said on thus 
leaving ? 

They were the most touchmg (I should rather say, the most 
awful) spoken during the whole course of His ministry. How 
different from the winning and tender sayings with which He began 
His teaching in the synagogue of Nazareth, when He spoke of 
Himself as being anointed by His Father to proclaim a gracious 
message to the poor, the broken-hearted, the captive, the blind, 
the bruised ! 

These proud Jews in Jerusalem would not listen to His plead- 
ings. They had turned a deaf ear alike to His earnest warnings 
and His loving invitations. He tells them that the hour of mercy, 
long offered to their guilty nation, is past and gone. They had 
despised all His counsel, and wo\ild none of His reproof. His 
heart is burning with grief and holy anger : — His eyes are filled 
with tears. And as He thought of the terrible woes He had done 
all He could to prevent, but which they had brought upon them- 
selves — the famine, the siege, the cruelties and tortures — He 
bursts out in these most mournful accents — " Jerusalem, Jeru- 
salem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent 
unto thee, hoiu often would I have gathered thy children together, 
even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would 
not ! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate." 



Jesiis then crossed the brook Kedron with His disciples. 

They sat down to rest a- while on the sward of the Mount of 
Olives. The hum of busy tents would be all round ; but they 
would choose one of the many green knolls, where, in the cool of 
the evening, they might converse without being disturbed. The 
Temple, of which every Jew was so proud, and whose ruin the 
Saviour had just foretold, was immediately opposite. He loved 
it much, as His Father's House. In its courts, thirty-three years 
previously. He got His first and earliest welcome from old age ; 
and, only two days ago. He received His last from infancy and 
youth — the cliildren who cried ' Hosanna.' 

He must have felt sad, indeed, as He gazed on these huge 
towers and battlements of white marble ; on these beautiful gates 
and pillars ; on that golden roof, now gleaming in the setting 
sun, and thought of all being soon levelled with the dust ! 

The disciples could hardly believe His words. As they, too, 
looked across the valley to the huge stones of the Temple wall, 
they said, ' Master, see what ^manner of stones and what luildings 
are here." (They might well be struck with the " manner " or 
size of the stones, for many of them were from twenty to thirty 
feet long.) 

■' There shall not he left one stone upon another that shall not he 
throw7i down I " 

In a few years, all that Jesus had said came quite true. 

It must, on the other hand, have been a joy to Him at this 
time — one of the brightest " gleams " towards the close of His 
earthly days — to go, evening after evening, to the peaceful home 
of Lazarus and his sisters. It was the place that most recalled 
His happy early years, when He used to pluck the spring flowers 
on the hills of Nazareth, and watch the sun going down over the 
distant sea. The affection of the family would remind him, too, 
more than anything since, of His mother's tender love. Though 
we are not told, it is, I think, more than likely she may have been 
herself now living in the home at Bethany. We know from the 
sacred writers that she was in Jerusalem on the Passover week. 
Having her own sad thoughts of what was going to happen, she 



would surely try to be with her loved Son as long and as much 
as she could. May we not think of her thus, each afternoon, 
watching His coming across the " olive-bordered way," and join- 
ing in the welcome to the simple evening meal ? He had read 
the words and known the truth of them (they would be dearer to 
Him than ever now) — "As one whom His mother comforteth" 
(Isaiah Ixvi. i 3). ■ 

On the Wednesday, He does not appear to have gone to Jeru- 
salem, but remained during the day and night at Bethany. 

We are not told anything as to how He spent these closing 
hours. He needed rest after all He had gone through the last 
three days. But it was more than rest He desired. He would, 
doubtless, seek out one of the many quiet nooks near the village, 
where he could, by prayer and communion with His Eather, pre- 
pare HimseK for His sufferings. When He lay down on His 
couch that night, it would be His last sleep ; at all events, His 
eyes would not close again till they closed in the sleep of death 
on the cross and in the tomb ! 

All the Apostles were either with or near their Master that 
day. There was one exception : — that was Judas. He had left 
Bethany and gone to Jerusalem. You can readily conjecture the 
reason of his sad journey there. Satan, we have already seen, had 
" entered into him," and filled his heart with gloomy, dreadful 
thoughts. You can follow him in imagination as he hurries along 
with his eyes bent on the ground. 

He goes straight to a building with a massive gate. On being 
admitted, he finds himself in a large pillared hall, where the 
seventy-one chiefs of the nation are assembled. They are looking 
very angry, and speaking very loud. It was a meeting of the 
Sanhedrim in the palace of the High Priest. The palace was on 
the south side of the valley of Hinnom, on a rising ground, 
still called " the hill of evil counsel." 

Judas was just the person whose help was now required, and 
whose appearance was welcomed. They had resolved on putting 



320 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Jesus to death. But they wondered how they could succeed in 
getting hold of Him. They dare not attempt to seize Him openly 
in the midst of the Feast, for there were many there who loved 
the Saviour, and who would have tried to rescue Him from their 
cruel hands. They would thus have created " an uproar among 
the people." Besides, even had there been no such danger, it 
might be difficult for them to find Him out among the great 
Passover crowds without some one to help them. 

Judas knew well the places where Jesus would most likely be 
discovered. He knew, above all, where He went to pray. He 
knew of one such favourite place near a garden on the Mount of 
Olives. In the stillness and darkness of night, and after the 
crowds of pilgrims had gone to rest in their tents and houses, he 
could easily contrive to have Him seized, and delivered into the 
hands of His foes. 

The great Council had already, four days before, as we have 
previously noted, entered into a nefarious bargain with the traitor. 
Of his own accord he now appears a second time before them, 
and by the offer of his base services relieves their perplexities. 

They agreed to pay him down the money whenever he sur- 
rendered the Saviour into their hands. 

There was a piece of ground which this covetous man wished 
very much to have. It was situated above the valley of Hinnom. 
His eyes would often fall upon it as he crossed the Mount of 
Olives with his Master : — he could see it at present from the 
High Priest's palace : — he had, perhaps, so far bought it with 
the money he had already stolen out of the disciples' purse. 
But that purse was now empty ; and he might fear that he would 
lose the field altogether. The shekels he received for betraying 
his Lord, and some more he would hope to obtain by-and-by 
from the same heads of the nation, would enable him to make 
sure of it. These, and other unlawful longings, lured him too 
sadly on to his soul's ruin ! 

I cannot tell you anything more about Judas that night — 
where he went, or where he slept. 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 321 

Would he dare go back to Bethany with the horrible secret in 
his gloomy soul ? He may have done so ; for, as we shall soon 
see, he had the baseness next day to take his seat at the Paschal 
table, just as if nothing had happened. Perhaps, too, he might 
think that, by going to the house of Lazarus, he would find out 
with certainty where Jesus was to resort the following night. 
Jesus might speak about going, as the betrayer expected, to 
Gethsemane, and he would lay his plans to arrest Him there. 



LVI. 

1^0 sentis tijjo of ^i% JBisctples to maJte reatig t|je ^assotrcr. 

It is now Thursday, probably the same day of the month on 
which the Hebrews killed their Passover lamb in Egypt, and 
sprinkled the lintels and door-posts of their houses with its 
blood. 

The previous evening had been a busy one in Jerusalem. 
Every head of a family, — husband, wife, and children, — were em- 
ployed in sweeping their dwellings, in order that no leaven might 
be found in any of them. They even lighted wax candles or 
torches, and searched every dark corner of their rooms (cupboards 
and presses), in case any particle might remain. The leaven was 
regarded as the type of sin, and the putting it away pointed to 
the necessity of purity of heart and life. The father of the house- 
hold carried a vessel in his left hand and a brush in his right, to 
collect any stray portions of what was so strictly forbidden. 
After the search was over, the vessel was put under lock and key, 
and its contents, soon aft^r, carefully destroyed by fire. Then 
they got ready the holiday clothes which were to be worn at the 
Paschal supper. 

On the morning of Thursday the disciples had come to Jesus 

X 



32a BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

and asked Him, " Where loilt Thou that we i^repare for Thee to 
eat the Passover ? " ^ 

There were ' family gathering.s ' during the Passover week, and 
specially on the night of the Paschal supper. Parents and chil- 
dren, brothers and sisters, cousins and friends from a distance, all 
met under the same roof. 

You will probably, therefore, expect to hear Jesus saying in 
reply, " I should wish our feast to take place where I am, in 
Bethany, among those I so dearly love." [Bethany was witliin 
the allowed distance from Jerusalem, for celebrating the Festival] 

He did not, however, say so. He evidently had a strong wish 
to eat that supper all alone with His own disciples. Not even 
was His mother to be there, or the brother and sisters of 
Bethany, or His cousins, or any of His most intimate friends from 
the Lake-side. His words are very decided — " With desire, I have 
desired to eat this Passover with My disciples, hefore I suffer." 

Accordingly, He called two of them, and said, 'Go together 
into the city of Jerusalem, and you will be directed there to the 
house where we shall keep the feast.' 

The two disciples thus sent were Peter and John. 

When they entered the gate of Jerusalem, the city was all stir 
and bustle. Crowds were hurrying hither and thither. They met 
fathers with their boys, who had just been at the sheep-market, 
or at one of the folds on Mount Olivet, to purchase their Paschal 
lamb. 



^ I may mention in this note, that I have not thought it necessary or desir- 
able to perplex the minds of my young readers with any reference to the 
much-debated question as to the time of this last supper of Christ with His 
disciples — though undoubtedly a Paschal supper, whether it Avere the great 
annual one, or whether, rather, it occurred in the evening preceding, and partook 
more of the nature of a private Passover-feast, celebrated twenty-four hour.? 
earlier than that of the nation. Though purposely abstaining from indicating 
any decided opinion, my leanings here, and as expressed elsewhere, are in 
favour of regarding the scene described as the ordinary Paschal supper. Any 
older readers who may feel interested, will find the question fully discussed by 
all the leading commeutaturs. 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET, 323 

You will not wonder at the turmoil, when I tell you that nearly 
a quarter of a million of lambs are supposed to have been killed 
at this one Passover. The lambs were taken up to the Temple, 
and sacrificed there. The . priests stood in a row in the Court of 
Israel, holding gold and silver basins, into which the blood was 
poured after the animals were slain. What a strange mixture of 
sounds there must have been ! The babble of the crowd, the 
bleating of the innocent lambs, the songs of the worshippers, the 
sacred music of the Levites, and the blast of the silver trumpets. 

The two disciples have hardly entered the East Gate, when they 
meet a man bearing on his shoulder a vessel of water. The man 
was a servant. Perhaps he had just come with his pitcher from 
the pool of Siloam. 

It is an earthenware jar he is carrying. Its contents may 
be intended partly for the purposes of the' supper, and partly for 
filling the basin or laver in which the feet of the guests were 



The Saviour had told Peter and John that they would be sure 
to meet this person, and when they met him they were to follow 
him to his master's dwelling. 

It is not likely that the master- was a stranger; more probably 
a friend and disciple. Jesus calls him "the good man of the 
house." Some think that in that same abode Christ may have 
eaten many Paschal suppers in former years, when He came up 
from JSTazareth with Mary, His mother. Also that it may have 
been the same room where we shall find Him appearing to the 
Apostles, when He rose from the dead three days after. 

Peter and John followed the steps of this water-carrier as they 
had been directed, perhaps up one street and down another, till 
they saw him pausing before a door. They ask to see the owner 
of the dwelling ; and when he comes, they say^ " The Master 
(your Master and ours) has this message — ' My time is at hand ; 
where is the guest-chamher where 1 shall eat the Passover with My 
disciples ? ' " 

Did the owner make any objection ? No. He seems at once 
to bid them and their Lord a kind welcome. 



324 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

The two disciples enter, and are led to a room by a flight 
of steps. There is a table in the apartment, and seats with 
cushions all round the table. The room seems quite prepared. 
The servant would likely put down his pitcher of water near the 
door, where there was the bath, and linen towels for drying the 
feet. 

The two disciples hasten either to Bethany to tell the Master 
that the supper is ready ; or possibly Jesus might be waiting 
•with the^ others at some appointed meeting-place on the Mount 
of Olives, so as to save Peter and John going all that distance 
back. 

The most of the pilgrims would be busy in their several dwell- 
ings preparing for their own Passover, so that Jesus would be 
able to enter the city, as He wished to do, quietly and without 
notice in the twilight. 

Judas had, however, found out where the supper was to be 
held, and he came as one of the guests. 



LVII. 

%t eats tfje ^assober toitt) l^is IBisciples* 

When the shadows of night had fallen, and the stars were shining 
in the sky, we see Jesus at the table of the Jerusalem house- 
holder, with His twelve disciples. They are reclining on the 
couches placed around. 

The supper. is ready.^ But why does the Saviour rise sud- 
denly and go towards the door of the guest-chamber, at which 
they had left theu' sandals on entering ? 



1 Not as in our English version, "Supper being ended," . . . but " Supper 
being prepared." — Alford. 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 



325 



The Apostles have omitted the usual Jewish custom after a 
journey, of having the feet washed before sitting down to meals. 
Alas ! it is the same sad story again ! They were jealous of one 
another; and disputed, like spoilt children, about the best places 
at the table ! The man to whom the house belonged was pro- 
bably engaged at a specially busy time : — he had left no servant 
to attend to this humble office for the refreshment of the guests ; 
while none of the disciples seem willing to take the servant's place, 
and fetch the water and towels. How is the omission rectified ? 

Does Jesus simply rebuke them for their pride, telling them 
how foolish they are, and ordering them to perform the required 
office? 

No. He gives them the severest, and yet the tenderest, rebuke 
He could. He felt the sadness of these envious quarrels at all 
times ; but specially now in the prospect of His Sorrows. With 
His own hands he fetches that basin with the water. He takes 
off His loose festive garment, and ties the towel, lying beside the 
basin, round His waist. 

The Apostles, doubtless, wonder very much what He intends 
to do. 

He ■ brings the brazen laver, and sets it down by the 
couch on which they were lying. He then Himself stoops to 
wash their feet, and wipes them dry with the girded towel, going 
round to one after the other. I believe, too, among the number, 
he included him who was in a few minutes to hurry away from 
that meeting to arrange final plans for his Master's death ! 

Oh, what a beautiful picture of humility ! What a gleam of 
holy love and condescension immediately before the great Sunset ! 
Immanuel — " God with us " — doing the meanest work of a slave, 
and teaching these foolish disciples the needed lesson of self- 
denial ! 

And now He has gone back to His place. He has untied the 
towel from His waist; and having put on His white garment 
again, the supper begins. 

We only know the position of one of the disciples at the 



326 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

sacred meal. It is that of the loving John. He was reclining 
at Jesus' right hand. His head was leaning on Jesus' bosom. 

Never was there a holier yet sadder feast on earth than this. 
While they are eating it, as we shall immediately find, the 
Master speaks many tender, loving words. He who is " Brighter 
THAN THE SuN " leaves behind Him never to be forgotten parting 
rays of blessing. They resemble the last streaks of vermilion 
and gold seen in the western sky — 

** Bright clouds are gathering one by one, 
And sweeping in pomp round the dying sun. 
With crimson banner, and golden pall, 
Like a host to their chieftain's funeral." ^ 

The disciples could never have been fonder of their Lord than 
now. 

Meanwhile, however, before we speak of this " golden vista," 
the clouds seem to gather : gradually a shade of sadness is seen 
creeping over the Heavenly face. 

Jesus had wept recently over Jerusalem; but the present is a 
grief of a different kind. It seems as if it were too deep for 
tears. How could He bear the look of the false man who was 
reclining with Him at the same table ? How harshly must the 
voice of the traitor have grated on the ear of Sinless Purity ! 
The Divine Master of the feast knew that " the poison of asps 
was under his lips." He was " troubled in spirit," and with a 
heart full of anguish, He makes the announcement to the guests 
around Him — " Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall 
hetray Me." 

The loving company are shocked and amazed. They are for a 
moment dumb. They are sure, however, that all they have heard 
must sooner or later take place, when their Lord' has prefaced 
His words with " Verily, verily." 



Sigourney. 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 327 

At last, not suspecting each other, but each suspecting him- 
self, they ask, "Lord, is it IV They never seem to have 
thought of Judas being the guilty one. Like many wicked men, 
he was clever and cunning, and kept them from supposing him 
to be a cheat and a deceiver ; — one who often took out of the 
Joint-purse money that was not his own. 

Jesus answers, that He will indicate who the unhappy man is, 
by a sign. He takes a piece of the cake of bread from the table, 
and dips it in the dish before Him ; then He lifts the dripping 
morsel and gives it to Judas. 

Judas stretches out his hand, and receives " the sop." Every 
eye of the company is now turned on him. The awful secret is 
out. It is he who is the Betrayer ! 

The wicked disciple can endure no longer the looks, and above 
all the ONE look, cast upon him ! He leaves the supper-table and 
che glare of the lighted room, and hurries out to the dark streets 
with a deeper darkness in his soul. 

Terrible, truly, it is to thmk that this is a man who had 
received nothing but kindness from Jesus ; who had, during years 
of close intimacy, seen the holiness and tenderness of his Master's 
life ; who had shared His daily meals, who had heard His daily 
prayers, who had listened to His daily teachings, who had been 
dealt with as a dear friend and brother. To him, Jesus had 
in vain spoken that parable, among others, — of " the Fool " who 
had sacrificed his never-dying soul for the sake of amassing some 
poor earthly riches ! 

He is on the way to earn his awful bribe — the bribe of 
innocent blood. The last words of Christ to him were — " Bo it 
quickly." He has made up his mind to act thus promptly. Oh, 
one might have hoped that the tender voice of his old ]\Iaster 
might even yet have melted his hard heart ; — that, bathed in 
tears, he would have rushed in agony to the feet of Jesus, con- 
fessed all, and begged to be forgiven. Alas ! he has become the 
slave of sin ! He has " sold himself to work iniquity ! " 

We all know the discomfort and restraint that is felt, even 



32 8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



when we are among friends, if there is one false or unkind 
person present ! Whenever the traitor Apostle had gone away 
from the upper room, there seemed a burden lifted off the spirit 
of Jesus. He even seems to contemplate with calmness and 
composure the thought of His own death being so near ; that 
death which was to procure the life of the world. Indeed, His 
tones of sadness are changed into those of subdued joy. The first 
of those bright parting " gleams " of which I have just spoken 
breaks through the surrounding clouds, as He exclaims — " Now is 
the Son of man glorified, and God is glorified in Him. If God he 
glorified in Him, God shall also glorify Him in Himself, and shall 
straightway glorify Him " (John xiii. 31, 32). 

Jesus now takes a portion of the bread on the table and 
some wine, and institutes the sacred rite called the Lord's 
Supper. 

He said to His disciples that He wished them, and His people 
in all ages, to keep His dying love in remembrance. He asked 
them to meet often with one another in the same way as He had 
done that night, and to break the bread and drink the wine. 
The broken bread would remind them of His broken, crucified 
body ; the wine would remind them of His poured out, precious 
blood. " Do this" were His words, " in remembrance of Me." He 
said over again, what He had done at the beginning of the supper, 
" / shall drink no more of the fruit of the vine, until I drink it 
new ivith you in My Father's kingdom." 

Then follow the many kind and gracious words of comfort. 

The sayings of a fond father at the hour of his death are 
always specially remembered by his children. Jesus was about 
to die. These, therefore, were His dying words. Yes, it seems 
exactly as if He were gathering His dear ones around Him and 
giving them His last benediction ! 

How subdued and hushed that little company must have been, 
when the annovmcement was made, " Hereafter I ivill not talk 
much with you ! " How doubly attentive would they be, lest 
any one farewell utterance or counsel should be lost ! 



GLEAMS BEFORE SUNSET. 329 

He tells them not to allow their hearts to be troubled; — to 
think of the many bright mansions where they would all at last 
meet in the Great Father's House in heaven. How loving and 
tender are the very names He gives them ! He calls them 
not ' servants/ nor ' Apostles ; ' — but " little children " and 
*' friends." After commanding them over and over to " love one 
another," He speaks 01 a blessed Comforter who would come 
down and fill the blank in their hearts after He was taken 
away. Many earthly fathers when they die leave gifts to their 
children — money, or houses, or lands. Jesus leaves His disciples 
something far better than any of these. " Peace / Uam with 
you, My peace / give unto you ! " 

The beautiful thing is, that though He has much greater cause 
for sadness, and much greater need of comfort, He thinks nothing 
about His own sorrows. All His thoughts are about consoling 
them. 

But suddenly the Divine Speaker pauses, as if He had heard 
some warning bell. 

The hour lias come at last ! He gets up from His couch. 
^^ Arise" says He, " Ut us go hence" 

So, after singing a Paschal hymn, the Apostle-guests silently 
obey the Master's call. They descend the stair to the streets, 
which are still filled with busy hurrying crowds. Then, going 
out by the East Gate, they would take the path along the 
Temple- wall above the brook Kidron. In the bright moonlight 
the eye of Jesus may possibly have fallen on a vine, in one of 
the many vineyards close by, with its tender early leaves. This 
may have led Him to speak of Himself as " the true Vine," and 
His people as " the branches." 

He reminds His disciples that He will soon be taken from them : 
but adds, that though for " a little while " they would not see 
Him, yet they would meet in " a little while " again. He seems 
to carry His thoughts forward to a happier meeting still, not on 
earth but in Heaven, when their joy no one would take from 
them. 



330 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN, 

With these and many other precious words, He sustains and 
comforts their distressed hearts and His own, till they have 
crossed the brook, and reached the entrance to a garden. 

The moon is now fully up, and shining beautifully on the 
olive-trees and on the great Temple rock. 



NIGHT W^ATCHES. 

' THE DAY OF THE LORD COMETH, FOR IT IS NIGH AT HAND ; A DAY OF 
DARKNESS AND OF GLOOMINESS, A DAY OF CLOUDS AND OF THICK 
DARKNESS." — JOEL IL I, 2. 

' I WILL COVER THE HEAVEN, AND MAKE THE STARS THEREOF DARK ; 
I WILL COVER THE SUN WITH A CLOUD." — EZEK. XXXII. 7. 

O MY GOD, I CRY IN THE DAY-TIME, BUT THOU HEAREST NOT ; AND 
IN THE NIGHT-SEASON, AND AM NOT SILENT."— Ps. XXII. 2. 

■ YOUR LAMB SHALL BE WITHOUT BLEMISH . . . AND THE WHOLE 
ASSEMBLY OF THE CONGREGATION OF ISRAEL SHALL KILL IT IN 
THE EVENING" (aS THE SUN GOES DOWN). — ExOD. XII. 5, 6 

' AND IT WAS ABOUT THE SIXTH HOUR, AND THERE WAS DARKNESS 
OVER ALL THE LAND UNTIL THE NINTH HOUR. AND THE SUN 

WAS DARKENED.'"'— Luke xxiii. 44, 45. 



NIGHT WATCHES. 333 



LYIII. 

He suf crs xx^ t!)e ffiarUen of ^Jetfisiemane* 

In our last, we pictured the moon shining brightly on the Master's 
path as He passed along the Kidron valley. 

In the figurative sense of the words, however, it was the 
Yalley of the Shadow of Death through which He was now walk- 
ing; — " This is the hour and power of darkness." The clouds have 
finally closed in. The night-watch of the Divine Sufferer has 
begun ! 

If you were to ask me what is the most sacred ground in all 
the world, I would answer, the G-akden of Gethsemane. 

It may be the longing of many of my young readers — (I know 
it was mine) — to see this hallowed place with their own eyes, 
— to look upon the very spot where the Blessed Jesus had to 
endure so much for our sakes. 

You may, perhaps, have pictured to yourselves in thinking 
about it, a quiet, retired hollow, close to the brook Kidron, filled 
with rugged old olives ; sitting under the solemn shade of 
which, you would be able to read the touching story of the 
Agony. 

In this you would be disappointed. The traditional Gethsemane 
is not in itseK interesting. It has been made very much into a 
modern garden, with a white-washed wall around it. Eight aged 
trees are the only things about the place which recall the past. 
Though they cannot date to the time of Christ, yet they serve 
to bring that night of all nights vividly before the thoughts of 
all who have seen them. I gazed on them from the opposite 
side of the valley, silvered with the light of the moon. This 
latter feature is at all events unchanged. These calm Eastern 
moonlit heavens, so truthfuUy described by the poet, are the very 



334 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



same as, eighteen and a half centuries ago, looked down on the 
Suffering Kedeemer — 

" How beautiful is night 
A dewy freshness fills the silent air : 
No mist obscures, no cloud, nor spec, nor stain, 

Breaks the serene of heaven. 
In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine 
Eolls through the dark blue depths ; 

How beautiful is night ! " ^ 

Though, therefore, no one can make quite sure that what is now 
pointed out was really the Garden of Gethsemane, we know at 
all events that somewhere near that very place, olive-trees hang- 
ing thick with dew silently beheld the mysterious anguish of 

Jesus ! 

The disciples, as I have already told you, have reached the 
entrance to the Garden along with their Master. 

It was now far on in the night, probably between eleven and 
twelve o'clock. All was quiet and still after the stir of that 
busy evening. Most of the lights in the houses and tents had 
been put out. The one great lamp of nature, of which I have 
just spoken, alone illumined the valley, with its rocks and trees 
and the white sepulchres crowning its cliffs — almost turning 
night into day. 

Jesus seems to have known the place well. Some think that 
it was an orchard or plantation belonging to one of His friends 
and followers ; and that this friend joyfully gave the use of it to 
the Saviour whenever He chose, for rest and prayer. He must have 
much missed, in Jerusalem, the silent hills around Bethsaida and 
Capernaum, where He so often bent His knees in devotion. 

There may have even been some house within the Garden, 
in which He sometimes lodged : — or, perhaps, the Homeless 
One, who once slept on the plank of a fishing-boat on the Lake, 



NIGHT WATCHES. 335 



may have more frequently made the sod His pillow, under the 
shade of the olives — the great stars gleaming through their 
branches. 

Jesus had His eleven disciples with Him. He told eight of 
them to tarry outside the gate, where it was more open. 

See how kindly He breaks what could not fail to make them 
sad. He dqes not wish to distress them by disclosing plainly all 
about the scene before Him. He speaks as gently as He could. 
He tells them only of His prayers, not of His sore anguish. 
" Wait here" He said, " till I go and pray yonder." 

The other three disciples He took farther into the olive-garden 
along with Himself, and instructs them also to remain where He 
has placed them. They are to sit on the grass and keep watch 
there. 

You doubtless know who these three were. They are Peter, 
James, and John. The same who were so lately with Him on 
the Mount, and who saw the Transfiguration. 

They would wonder much what was about to happen. Was 
their Master once more to be glorified on Mount Olivet, as He 
had been on Mount Hermon ? Had they not heard Him, only a 
few moments before, praying, " Father, glorify Thy Son " ? Yet 
they had listened to other very different words also. " All ye 
shall le offended because of Me this night, for it is written, ' / 
will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall he scattered 
abroad ! ' " 

They ask Him no questions, but wait on in silence. He Him- 
seK goes further into the dense shade. The distance He with- 
drew from them was about as far as one could cast a stone. He 
seems comforted with thinking that He has His three chief and 
most devoted friends so near. 

We surely see, my young readers, in this, the human heart of 
Jesus. A child when ill, and lying in the dark unable to sleep, 
likes to feel that its father or mother are by its bedside. Or the 
same child feels comforted during a storm of thunder when it 
buries its face in its mother's lap, or clasps its father's hands. So 



336 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

it was with Jesus now. As a Brother in our nature, it helped to 
lift the heavy burden off His spirit, the thought of having loved 
ones so close at hand, who would think of Him and feel for Him 
in His sore struggle. 

The Three seat themselves as He has told them. However 
brightly the moon may have been shining, the thick branches and 
foliage would screen the Divine Sufferer from view. He is all 
alone. No radiant cloud is around Him, as on Mount Hermon ; 
no " raiment white and glistering." As He kneels on the grass, 
He becomes very sad and sorrowful — " Sorrowful even unto 
death ; " as if this sorrow were so great, that if it had gone much 
further it must have ended in death. It was " a horror of great 
darkness : " He cannot even keep in a kneeling posture, He falls 
on His face — His forehead touches the bare ground. A great 
load seems to press upon Him. It was evidently anguish unlike 
any the world had ever seen. 

How very strange ! He who had hushed the winds and waves, 
cast out devils, and brought the dead to life, was now stretched 
helpless on the earth with •" strong crying and tears ! " 

He entreats, in tones of earnest prayer, that God, His Father, 
would take that fearful load off Him. 

He speaks as if a cup of awful woe had been put into His 
hands to drink ; and His prayer is, " My Father, if it be 
possible, take this cup away ! " Though the night was chill and 
frosty, drops of perspiration, like blood, stood on His forehead, 
and fell on the sod at His feet ! 

Strange, mysterious spectacle ! He who was " Brighter than 
THE Sun," crying out in a midnight of gloom — 

" The way is dark, My Father ! chuid on cloud 
Is gathering thickly o'er My head, and loud 
The thunders roar above Me. See, I stand 
Like one bewildered ! Father ! take My hand ! '' 

What do you think was that load and that cup ? 
There was no visible threat or violence : — there was no hand 
of man upon Him now, as afterwards on the cross of Calvary. 



NIGHT WATCHES. 337 



No cruel spear, or iron nail, or thorny crown pierced Him. We 
can discern nothing around, but the silvery olive-trees rustling in 
the nightly breeze. The bright starry heavens were above ; and 
His own disciples quite near. 

What pain, then, is this, from which He so shrinks as to 
wring anguish from His whole frame ? 

It was the sins of all His people that were then weighing Him 
down : " He loas wounded for our transgressions, He was hruiscd 
for otcr iniquities." " The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquities of 
us all." 

The Ancients had a fabled Atlas, who was said to bear the 
world on his shoulders. Jesus was the true Atlas. He was in 
an awful sense bearing on His soul the burden of the world's 
guilt ! 

After some time of sore agony He rises from the ground, and 
goes to where His disciples are, under the trees. Perhaps, when 
He reaches the spot, He expects to hear them talking about Him 
with pity and tenderness ; saying to one another, ' How can we 
best, in this hour of darkness, comfort Him who so lately spake 
such kind words of consolation to us ? ' 

Alas! He finds them "sleeping!" Even Peter, who had 
declared brave resolves about " never forsaking," had his eyes 
closed too. The sword he had taken with him to the garden to 
defend his Master is lying carelessly at his side. 

Jesus rose from His knees, and went, in the same manner, no 
less than three times to these faitliless watchers. But on each 
occasion He finds them thus asleep. " ^'Vllat ! " He says, with a 
trembling voice, " could ye not ivatch with Me ? " ' You promised 
to die for me, can you not watch with Me, your Master ; and that, 
too, even " one hour ? ' " 

" Simon," He said, " sleepest THOU ? John, who, two hours ago, 
leant thy head on My breast, sleejyest thou ? James, who saidst 
thou wast able to drink of My cup of woe, sleejjest tJwu ? " 

He might well say, " I looked for pity, and found none, and 
for comforters, and I found none !" 

Y 



338 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

How strange they should have been so careless and cold-hearted ! 
They had often seen their Master sorrowful, but never in such 
profound sorrow as now. And yet, too, how kindly He pities 
His poor tired followers, and makes allowance for their frailties ! 
Hear the merciful excuse He offers for them : — " They have the 
heart and the wish," He said, " to be kind to Me, and to watch 
with Me. But they are weary." " The, spirit, indeed, is willing, 
hut the flesh is weak." Most would have called it thoughtless and 
ungrateful slumber, He calls it " sleeping for sorrow ! " 

But if the best of earthly friends have failed Him, not so is it 
with heavenly Friends. 

All at once there is a sudden gleam among the olive-crees. 
What is this ? Is it only a brighter ray of moonshine that has 
struggled through the branches, and is lighting up the worn face 
of the Man of Sorrows ? 

No. It is a glorious Angel sent from above to strengthen 
Him. One of that bright band who sang His cradle-song over 
the plains of Bethlehem has come to support Him in His agony. 

What the Angel said to Jesus we are not told. He would, 
doubtless, tell Him that all Heaven was watching His hour of 
conflict. He might, perhaps, bring some special message of love 
from His Father, and encourage Him to do His Father's will. 
He would, perhaps, remind Him of the need there was of these 
sufferings " to bring many sons unto glory." He would speak to 
Him of the millions on millions who, by the drinking of that cup 
of anguish, would be saved I'or ever and ever. 

Mightier than any angel in this hour of lonely sorrow, was the 
support He obtained from His God and Father. He could say. in 
a truer sense than the afflicted Psalmist : — " / meditate on Thee in 
the Night Watches. Because Thou hast been my help, therefore 
in the shadow of Thy wings will I rejoice " (Ps. Ixiii. 6, 7). 

The greater His agony was, He only prayed the more earnestly 
for strength from Him. An Apostle tells us He prayed "unto 
Rim that was able to save Him from death, and was heard in that 
He feared!' 

Light breaks amid the thick darkness. That hour of prayer 



NIGHT WATCHES. 339 



has so soothed the spirit of Jesus, that, on going the third time 
to His disciples, with a calm, brave voice He says — ''The hour is 
come, Bise, let us he going." 

He had yet fifteen honrs of suffering before Him ere He cried, 
" It is finished ! " but in some respects the worst suffering of all 
was in that garden, and it was now over. 

When its gloomy hours were past, the Good Shepherd goes 
submissively forth to lay down His life for the sheep ! 



LIX 

f^e is seifetJ ig a troop of ^oltrters. 

"Voices, and the tramp of hurrying feet, are heard in the distance. 

Not only so, but flashing lights, too, are seen coming down the 
same steep path Jesus and His disciples had themselves taken a 
little while before. 

It looks as if a band of men were approaching, holding torches 
and lanterns in their hands. Some seem to be soldiers, some 
priests, some the common rabble of the city. 

The red glare reveals a figure in front, leading them on and 
telling them where to go. 

It seems strange to see lanterns and torches in the bright 
moonlight. It is evident they have taken these, in order that 
they may make all the surer that the person or persons, of whom 
they are in search, may not escape among the darker corners of 
the garden, or into the caves of the mountain. 

The band of captors have crossed the Kidron. They approach 
nearer and nearer till their faces are visible. There is new 
proof that they are not come on a peaceable errand, for some 
have swords, and some have clubs or sticks in their hands. 

There is one there we all know too well — the dark figure ii? 



340 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

front. It is Judas. He leaves the others, and hurries up to 
Jesus. He kisses the cheek that is still stained with the red 
drops of the agony, and says in doing so, " Hail, Master ! " 

Does he use this expression, think you, because he has 
repented of his crime — wishing his injured Lord to forgive him, 
and take him back again among the disciples ? 

Oh no ! It is only the sign that had been agreed upon, to let 
the troop know which among the little company was the doomed 
innocent Victim. It was the basest thing the heartless traitor 
had yet done. 

Do you remember what Jesus said to Judas ? 

" Judas, letrayest thou the Son of Man ivith a kiss ? " 

You may believe that when, in a few hours after, the meek 
face of the Sufferer was struck with the hands of the rufl&an 
soldiers, He did not feel these blows half so much as the mocking 
kiss of His old disciple. The pain of an enemy He could bear ; 
but " it was not an enemy that did. this !" 

The rest of the band are about to seize hold of Christ, and 
bind Him. The Divine Saviour comes out in the moonlight, and 
says, " Wliooii seek ye ? " 

They replied, " Jesus of Nazareth!' 

" I AM He." 

There must have been tones of heavenly majesty in His voice ; 
for these men, at the sound of it (and Judas among them), reel 
back with fright and fall to the ground, as if smitten down with 
a flash of lightning. 

What an opportunity for Jesus now to escape if He had willed 
80 to do, when the band of assassins are lying helpless on the 
earth ! How easily He might have withdrawn Himself to a dis- 
tance, as He had done more than once before ; and taken refuge, 
either in one of the quiet valleys where He had lately been, near 
Bethel, or further off in the glens of Perea ! 

But instead of doing so. He at once surrenders Himself. He 
has His hands tied together with ropes, and is made a prisoner. 
They show Him no more mercy than if He had been a commoD 
thief. 



^ 




NIGHT WATCHES. 341 



Peter is no longer asleep now. He has His sword firmly 
grasped in his hand, and seems resolved to sell his life dearly for 
his Master's sake. 

He attacks one of the band. He aims a blow at the man's 
head, and in doing so cuts off his right ear. Jesus heals it in a 
moment. He would show how kind He is in the hour of greatest 
unkindness — kind, not to a friend, but to an enemy. He then 
says to the too ardent Apostle, " Fut up thy sioord into its 
sheath ;" 'I could get myriads of angels to rescue me, if I chose 
now to ask My Father to send them. But I do not wish to 
escape. It is My Father who has mixed for me this cup of woe, 
and I am resolved to drink it to the dregs.' 

Again we are reminded how the loving, kind heart of the 
Saviour never fails Him. He seeks no boon for Himself. He 
does not ask His murderers to imtie His hands, spare His life, 
and let Him free. No ; but He has one request to make for His 
disciples. " Let these go away ! " 

Tou will be ready to remark, ' Oh, surely, even though He 
wished them to escape and ensure their own safety, the disciples 
would never do so : they will never leave their Master thus in 
the hands of cruel men ! ' You expect, rather, to see them faith- 
fully keeping by His side, and trying to whisper words of com- 
fort in His ear. 

Alas ! all of them ham forsaTcen Him and fled ! Some, perhaps, 
have hidden among the thickets and olive-groves of the Mount ; 
some may have hastened across to Bethany to tell the anxious 
inmates there of what had taken place ; but not one of them 
remains at his, post of honour and duty. No Apostle has the 
Lord near Him, but the false, hollow-hearted Judas ! 

It was just as He had foretold, a few hours before, on the way 
from the Paschal table — the Shepherd was smitten, and the sheep 
were scattered. "Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that 
ye shall he scattered every man to his own, and shall leave Me alone, 
and yet I am not alone, tecause the Father is with Me ! " 

Behold, then, the meek, patient, suffering, forsaken Lamb of God, 



342 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

•without a friend on earth to cheer Him, led on to the slaughter: 
His hands bound behind His ba^ck; — perhaps the crimson drops 
of the Garden still on His dress. He could not be murdered on 
the spot. There were some there who were ready to stone Him 
to death, as they did in the case of Stephen afterwards, nigh the 
same place. But the Eoman soldiers will see that He is first 
taken to be tried at a Court of Justice (or what was called a 
Court of Justice), and prevent this summary vengeance. 

Their torches and lanterns would now be put out ; so as not 
to attract attention as they convey their Victim to the palace of 
the High Priest. 

It is now late at night. 



LX. 

fie ts !irougf)t before ^nnas antr ^atapfjas. 

The meek and lowly Jesus, wearied and exhausted with the awful 
conflict in Gethsemane, is hurried along by the troop of soldiers. 
The streets of the city would now be sUent. 

Any stray people they met, would wonder what so large a 
band of armed men were doing at that hour. 

They take their bound prisoner to the house of Annas ; which 
seems to be open, and lighted in readiness for their coming. 

Annas was the father-in-law of Caiaphas the High Priest. 
He was seventy years of age, and venerable in appearance. But 
he was neither a good nor a happy man. He was a cunning 
covetous Sadducee ; and had more power than any other Jew in 
Jerusalem at that time. It does not appear why they took Jesus 
to his dwelling, unless it was that they were anxious to get his 
name and support in commencing their cruel purpose, — perhaps 
too, they may have required his authority to hold the Council 
of the Sanhedrim. 



NIGHT WATCHES. 343 



The meeting was called, though it was still the dead of night. 
It could not, however, lawfully assemble before the morning. 

The band of men who had seized Jesus do not seem to have 
been long at the house of Annas. Annas sent them on to the 
residence or palace of Caiaphas. 

This latter was a large building with a wall round it, and 
gates in front. A portress had charge of the gates. She opened 
them whenever the troop of soldiers appeared. 

Inside was a square court. The Divine Saviour was first 
brought into this open space, and then He was taken into a side 
room or hall. Most of those who had arrested Him waited in 
the court ; and as the night was cold, coming as they had done 
from the sharp air and drenching dews of the Kidron VaUey, 
they gathered round a charcoal fire to warm themselves. 

A number of Jewish priests and rulers had hastily met 
together in Caiaphas' house to examine the guiltless prisoner 
before the G-reat Council met. They tried to get some admissions 
from His own lips, so as to make sure of a sentence of death 
against Him. 

Jesus, I need not say, is now quite separated from His friends 
and followers. The sheep are scattered. And the Good Shepherd 
is standing all alone in the midst of fierce wolves, ready to tear 
Him to pieces if they can. Caiaphas, early morning though it 
stiU was, is present. He questions Him about His disciples and 
His doctrine. 

The Blessed Eedeemer answers, that He had never concealed 
anything ; that He had always spoken openly before the world, 
and kept His teaching no secret. " Why ashest thou Me ? " He 
said to Caiaphas, " ask them which heard Me" 

One of the servants got very angry at this reply, and said, 
" Dare you speak thus to the High Priest ? " and then struck 
Jesus a cruel blow on the cheek. 

It was a cowardly act, for the hands of the Divine Prisoner 
were tied with cords; but even had they been free. He would 
not have struck the man back again. He remains calm and 
placid. There is no trace of " the strong crying and tears " to 



which He gave vent a few hours ago in the Garden. " He, was 
oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth." All 
He says is, If I have spoken evil, hear witness of the evil ; hut if 
well, why smitcst thou Me? (John xviii. 23). 

There were false witnesses brought in to testify against Him ; — 
shameless men who put no value on speaking the truth, and who 
could easily be bribed to tell lies and swear falsely. The accusers 
got them to say things about Jesus which were not true. Oh if 
Caiaphas had asked not for false, but for true witnesses, how 
different would have been their testimony • 

Who, let me ask, would many of these true witnesses have 
been ? 

There would be the blind who had been made to see — the 
lepers that were cleansed — the wretched beings who had devils 
cast out from their bodies — the sorrowful who had been comforted 
— the dead who had been brought to life. 

He who had done all these kind things, and who never did 
or said an ■M-?ikind thing, does not attempt to answer the wicked 
falsehoods now spoken against Him. In accordance with the 
words of ancient prophecy, " He was as a lamb dumb before his 
shearers ! " 

Caiaphas was much displeased because Jesus was thus silent. 
Leaving his seat in a passion, and looking on the meek Prisoner, 
he says with a loud voice, — " Dost thou make no answer to these 
witnesses ? " 

Still* Jesus holds His peace. Then in a voice of smothered 
rage, the Higli Priest says, " / adjure thee hy the living God, that 
Tliou tell me whether Thou he the Christ, the Son of God ? " 

The Accused can be silent no longer. At last He speaks, 
and with calm dignity says, "/am the Son of God." And He 
added, " Hereafter shall ye see the Son of Man sitting on the right 
hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven " (Matt. 
XX vi. 64). 

Yes, He tells them plainly that He who ^is now standing 
with His hands bound behind His back, as if He were a base 
criminal, will then be seated on His great white throne. HisF 



NIGHT WATCHES. 345 

accusers will then change places with Him, and be prisoners 
at His bar ! 

The whole assembly is in an uproar. Caiaphas pretends to be 
horrified at the blasphemy Jesus has just spoken. He takes hold 
of his white priestly garment, and tears it from the neck down- 
wards. It is the sign of grief and anger. " Ye have, heard" he 
exclaims aloud, " Ye ham heard what He says, what do you resolve 
upon ? " 

All the judges reply, " He is guilty of death " — ' Worthy of 
death ! Worthy of death ! ' 

It was the first wild shout that told the nearness of the dread- 
ful end. 

Little did Caiaphas think that, forty years after this, his own 
children and grandchildren would miserably perish m the siege 
of Jerusalem. And that God in his case, as in the case of all 
wicked men, would make true His own solemn word — " Be sure 
your sin will find you out." 



LXI. 

He ts cruelly treated in tije |)ous;e of Caiapljas;, anti 
turnieti &2 l^zitx. 

I HAVE told you it was still early morning, and that some hours 
must pass before the Sanhedrim can meet. What does the heart- 
less Caiaphas meanwhile do ? 

He himself goes away . from the assemblage, and leaves the 
meek and gentle Jesus in the hands of these rude, unfeeling 
soldiers and servants, to be tormented as they please. 

We have known, in the recent history of the world, what dread- 
ful cruelties base and barbarous men delight to inflict on their 
fellow-creatures. It is bad enoueii to be cruel to the cruel ; but 



346 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

it is worse by far to be cruel to the good, the helpless, and the 
innocent. 

I am reluctant to describe all that was now inflicted on the sin- 
less Kedeemer. They led Him either into the open court, or into 
the guard-room. There they strike Him on the face, they jostle 
against Him ; they pull out the hairs of His beard ; — they put a 
bandage roimd His eyes ; and when thus blind-folded they asked 
in mockery, " Who smote tliee ? " They load Him with savage 
scoffs and jeers — they siJit upon Him — the greatest of insults 
among Eastern people. To every indignity their base minds and 
wicked thoughts can suggest He is subjected ! 

Little did they think in all this, they were fulfilling the words 
of prophecy : " / gave my hack to the smiters, and my cheeks to 
them that "plucked off the hair : I hid not my face from shame and 
" (Isa. 1. 6). 



Do you wonder where some of the disciples of the Blessed 
Sufferer are now ? 

I can only tell you about two of them. John seemed to 
follow close in his Master's steps. For immediately after the 
soldiers and their prisoner entered the gate of Caiaphas' palace, 
the portress allowed him to pass in along with them. He must 
have been a spectator of the foul and cruel affront when one of 
the officers of Caiaphas smote Jesus on the cheek with the palm 
of his hand. He had wished, not long before, for a much smaller 
offence to bring down lightning from heaven and consume a 
Samaritan village. It must surely, in the case of one whose 
soul was all fire, have been no small effort to remain silent 
under so base an outrage on the Being he regarded with an 
adoring love ! 

There was another who timidly hovered on the outskirts of 
the crowd a far way off, and who at last, through the influence of 
his brother Apostle, also got inside the gate. This was Peter. 
He is trembling with fear at what is taking place. His con- 
duct reminds us of the old scene on the Lake of Gennesaret, wl en, 
frightened at the stormy waves, he l^egan to sink. 



NIGHT WATCHES. 



347 



We see him seated by that same brazier I have mentioned in 
the middle of the court. He looks pale and agitated, and seems 
listening to every sound that comes from the inner room, where 
his Lord is. The soldiers and servants, who are gathered round 
this open fire, suspect, from his way of speaking, that he is one 
of Jesus' disciples. Specially the young woman who kept the 
gate — holding up her lighted lamp to Peter's face, makes quite 
sure that he was one of Christ's friends from Galilee : " Tliou also 
wast with Jesus of Nazareth." 

Then began Peter's sad fall. I shall leave you to read the 
mournful story for yourselves. He denied his beloved Master 
three times, and the last of the three times with oaths and curses. 
Yes ! siuearing ; uttering language we should expect to hear only 
on the lips of the roughest of the Eoman soldiers among whom 
He is seated. 

A cock crowing outside in the early morning, recalled to his 
mind the words of his Lord — " The cock shall not crow twice, 
hefore thou hast denied Me thrice." 

But there was something that spoke far more loudly to Peter 
than the crowing of that bird. As Jesus Himself, with His 
hands bound, was crossing over the open court. His ear heard 
these awful oaths. His eye fell on the poor erring Apostle. 

" The Lord turned and looked upon Peter." 

What a look was that ! A look of righteous anger ; but far 
more a look of sorrow and pity and love. It went like an 
arrow to the guilty man's heart. In a moment he was stricken 
down, humbled and saddened. He rushed away outside the 
porch, in the chill early dawn, weeping very bitterly. 

He never forgot those tears to his dying day. Better still, we 
know that he never forgot that look of pitying love. One of the 
old Fathers tells of him, that every time afterwards he listened 
to the crowing of a cock, he fell on his knees and wept. 

But six o'clock in the morning has now come ; so the cruel 
tormentors desist, for a while, at least, from their savage sport, 
and lead the Blessed Jesus, faint and bleeding:, along the streets to 



348 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

the " Paved Hall " in the Temple, where the Sanhedrim has now 
fully met. It was called ' the Paved Hall ' {Gazith) from being 
paved with square blocks of hewn stone. 

The judges, chief priests, and elders are seated on high benches 
around a circular chamber. Caiaphas, the spiritual head of the 
nation and the president of the Council, is seated in the central 
place. The Prisoner is brought to stand immediately opposite 
him. 

I need not describe what takes place. Very much the same 
questions are put, and the same answers given, as in the palace 
of the High Priest. Again, in meek majesty, Jesus declares 
Himself to be the Son of God. 

A shout goes up, " What need to ask farther, or to seek addi- 
tional witnesses ? we have heard from His own mouth" 

So, deli\^ering Him once more up to the guard, He is con- 
ducted across the Temple Court to another judgment seat. 



LXIL 

fie ts taltfn to ttjc palace of ^tlate* 

Who is this we see rushing up the Temple stairs ? His face is 
pale ; his eyes are flashing wildly, as if he had committed some 
fearful deed, and knew not what to do. 

He goes to where a number of the chief priests are assembled, 
who have just been at the Council, and are now come to attend 
the morning sacrifice. The man shrieks out in great terror — 
" Oh I have sinned dreadfully ! I have betrayed the Innocent ; 
and shed innocent blood ! " 

I do not require to tell you who this was. Satan had till now 
blinded the heart of Judas. But when the unhappy traitor saw 
the grievous tortures to which his kind and holy Master had beer 



NIGHT WATCHES. 349 

subjected, conscience smote him ; — his eyes were opened. He 
felt, when it was too late, how terrible was his ingratitude and 
guilt. The thirty pieces of silver — the price of his baseness — 
had been paid down to him. But now he could not endure 
the sight of these coins. So he hastens to those who had bribed 
him to commit the crime, and wishes them to take the money 
back. 

He receives poor comfort from these heartless priests and 
elders. They were annoyed at his intruding upon them at present. 
They were tired after a sleepless night : besides doubtless being ill 
at ease about the iniquity they were in the act of committing. 

" What have, loe to do with that .? " was the only answer the 
wretched man received. 

When he sees they only mock and sneer, after all he had done 
to help them in their dark deed, he opens a leathern bag at his 
side, and taking out the money, dashes it down at their feet on 
the pavement floor. 

His anguish of mind seems only to become worse. Descending 
quickly by the Temple gate, he goes to the brink of the hill above 
the Valley of Hinnom. There fastening a rope round the branch 
of a tree, in his utter despair he hanged himself. The halter 
broke ; his body fell over the rocks into the valley beneath : 
there was a pool of blood where the mangled remains lay. I do 
not think it likely that any one buried him. Like wicked Jezebel 
of old, his corpse would be left to the dogs of the city to devour ! 
Do you ask what became of the thirty silver shekels he flung 
from him ? 

The priests would not allow them to lie on the pavement ; 
neither would they allow them to be put in the Treasury-chest, 
because they were " the price of blood." So they completed the 
purchase of the fleld which Judas had coveted. They made it 
into a burial-place : and ever after, it bore the terrible name of 
AoELDMiA, " the Field of blood." 

This is truly one of the saddest stories in the Bible, perhaps I 
should say it is the very saddest story of all. 



350 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Pontius Pilate was at this time Eoinan Governor of Jndea. 

He generally lived at Cesarea, a city built on the sea shore 
in the plain of Sharon. But he always came up, during the 
Passover, to Jerusalem with a troop of soldiers, in case of any 
disturbance when so many peo]3le were gathered together. On 
these occasions he lived in a splendid palace erected by Herod 
the Great. From the description given by Josephus this must 
have been one of the most beautiful buildings in the world ; with 
vast walls and towers, porticoes of white marble, lovely gardens 
with shady alcoves, fountains, and fish-ponds ; its windows looking 
across to the Mount of Olives, whose slopes were not, as now, bare 
and treeless, but rich with varied foliage as any English park. 
The inside was as grand as the out. It had cedar roofs like the 
Palace of Solomon ; the floors and pavements were inlaid with 
precious stones. There were many vases of gold and silver seen 
all about the rooms and galleries. 

I do not think Pilate was a cruel man naturally ; but he was 
weak and selfish, and never scrupled about doing a bad action if 
he believed it would better himself or add to his power. Though 
he lived, as I have just said, chiefly at Cesarea (a place to which 
Jesus never went), I cannot think he could be ignorant about One 
whose fame had spread through all the land. He must have heard 
of Christ's miracles : His deeds of power and love and mercy. 
Though he would not trouble his mind on the matter, he could 
scarcely help knowing about the recent triumphal entry across the 
Mount of Olives ; for it had taken place since he came on his 
yearly visit. 

To this palace the meek and lowly Saviour is led through the 
streets of Jerusalem. The Jewish Council had no power of itself 
to kill Him. He must be tried by a Eoman court, and they must 
get His death-warrant signed by the Eoman Governor. 

On leaving the Sanhedrim, His accusers would conduct Him 
by the short way to Mount Zion, or " the Upper City," where this 
magnificent residence was. They would cross over the Valley of 
the Tyroj^ean by the famous bridge, which ever since the reign of 



NIGHT WATCHES. 



351 



Solomon had connected Mount Moriah and the Temple Tvith the 
adjoining hill of Zion. 

Though now full daylight, it was still, in the truest sense, a 
dark 'Night Watch' in the soul of the worn, faint, yet divine 
Sufferer. Many people are already gathered in the streets at 
that hour of the morning, and when it became known who the 
Prisoner was, the crowd quickly increased. 

We have reason to suppose that all the leaders of the Council 
were there, Caiaphas at their head. They would encourage the 
mob to follow. They knew well how easily they could manage to 
rouse the fierce passions of the multitude, against the Man who 
had dared to say that He would destroy their beautiful Temple in 
three days. 

Indeed the crowd are even now ready to vent their wild rage 
against the Blessed Jesus. They would, I believe, have torn Him 
to pieces, had he not been guarded by the Eoman soldiers : or 
rather, as we formerly found, protected and shielded by One 
mightier than all the legions and cohorts of the Eoman Csesar. 



LXIII. 

He appears tiffore Pilate anti fUerotr, 

They have reached the palace gates. 

Pilate would likely be asleep when they arrived. On being 
roused, he went at once to a balcony in front of his splendid 
mansion. This balcony we shall hear about more than once. It 
was called in Hebrew Gabbatha : a raised pavement composed of 
coloured stones and marbles. In the centre was the bema or Seat 
of Justice, from which the Eoman Judge delivered his sentence. 

Seeing so large a crowd on one of the days of the sacred feast, 
with the head men of the city, too, surrounding a Prisoner, Pilate 



352 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

at once knew it must be something very serious. He was aware 
how easily riots were created, and how difficult it was to put them 
down. He had done so more than once before ; but only after 
shedding the blood of the rioters and that of his own soldiers. 

He is told who the Prisoner was. 

Although he well knew how fickle the Jewish people were, I 
think surely his first thought must have been, how singular this 
sudden change in their feelings towards Jesus ; — the very person 
they had so lately welcomed and worshipped with royal honours ! 
Perhaps he had himself seen the carpet of palm-leaves over which 
the Saviour rode in triumph, still lying green on the highway across 
the Mount of Olives. 

The divine Son of God — the Lord of Glory — who had thus 
'•' made Himself of no reputation " — who had become for our sakes 
" a worm and no man, a reproach of men and despised of the 
people " — is now inside the Governor's palace. 

A few of His accusers likely go in with Him ; but the bulk of 
them remain outside the gate. Why is this ? You would think 
they would be desirous not to lose sight of their Yictim, but would 
wish rather to hear all that took place at His trial. 

The reason is told us. It is because Pilate is a Gentile. If 
these Jews entered the house of a Gentile during the Passover 
they would be regarded as defiled, and would in this way be 
prevented taking further part in the Paschal Feast, which lasted 
seven days. 

The Governor, therefore, to save tlieir scruples, goes out to the 
balcony I have spoken of, and speaks to the priests, rulers, and 
crowd, gathered in the street below. 

Till now they had been noisy, as all crowds are ; but when he 
appears in his toga (the Governor's robe of office), there is a hush 
to hear what he has to say. 

He asks them what they want, and what are the charges they 
have to prefer against Jesus. 

Their answer does not satisfy him. They do not Ijring against 
the Prisoner any particular accusation. Pilate haughtily answers — 



NIGHT WATCHES. 353 



" Be it so. If you do not choose to tell me His crime, tlien, 
as a Eoman judge, I shall not consider the case. You had better 
take Him, and judge Him according to your own laws." 

Their passion is roused at his reply, and they proceed to accuse 
the Blessed Eedeemer of being " an evil-doer," of " calling Him- 
self a King," of " perverting the nation" (that is, of trying to break 
loose from the power and authority of Eome), and forbidding 
others to pay tribute-money to Ctesar. 

Pilate returns, meanwhile, from the balcony, and goes to the 
Judgment Hall, into which Christ had been led. This hall would, 
doubtless, be one of the great public chambers of the palace. 
Its cedar waUs would be covered with the emblems of Eoman 
power and Eoman justice. There would be, as on the raised 
pavement, a chair or seat for the presiding magistrate, and a 
guard of soldiers at the entrance. 

The Eoman Governor and the holy Jesus stand here face to 
face, and, probably, are welL-nigh alone. 

The only charge brought by the accusers which Pilate cares to 
sift is the last one. Accordingly he asks the meek Prisoner, in 
a half-compassionate, half-scornful tone, "' Art Thou the King of 
the Jews ? " — " Thou, with Thy mangled face and bleeding brows 
and tattered raiment ; art Thou foolish enough to call thyself a 
Jewish King, and to claim a right to this splendid palace where 
now Thou standest so helpless ? " 

The suffering Son of Man answered him, that He was a king, 
and that He had a kingdom ; but it was " not of this world." It 
did not consist in crowns and jewels, in sceptres and palaces, 
in armies and chariots. It was a kingdom over the hearts of 
men. 

The Eoman knew nothing about such a kingdom as that — a 
kingdom which had no sword to protect it. He would, doubtless, 
say to himself, " There can, at all events, be no possible danger to 
my rule in the harmless dream of this mild, simple peasant- 
Prophet." 

Although, however, he did not own it, Pilate must have been 
impressed (how could it be otherwise ?) with the strange words 

z 



354 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

and the noLle bearing of tins mysterious Person before him. How 
superior in loftiness of soul to the very best among those who 
were clamouring for His life ! 

You can imagine to yourselves the dense mob still surging 
round the palace gate. In that multitude, doubtless, there must 
have been not a few friends and loving followers of Jesus. John 
may have been there. Perhaps even Peter may have been hover- 
ing nigh, with his miserable broken heart ; yet yearning with love, 
too, towards the kind Master he had denied. A gleam of hope 
may have shot through their breasts when they heard Pilate say, 
" I FIND IN Him no fault at all." 

But it was a gleam : no more. 

The chief accusers were more fierce than ever. They answered 
Pilate that this Man was a leader of sedition. He had stirred up 
strife and tumult all the way from Galilee to Jerusalem. 

Galilee ! 

That word was at once seized by the Governor. Galilee ! " la 
He a Galilean ?" he asks. 

They reply that He is so — Jesus from Nazareth. 

This at once leads to a new turn in the trial. Pilate has 
nothing to do with Galilee, and the ruler or tetrarch of that 
northern division of the land happened to be now himself in 
Jerusalem. He had come upon the pretence of keeping the 
Passover ; more lilvely, however, only to enjoy the festive season, 
— not in the sacred sense of the word, but as a change from the 
gay and wicked lile he led at the Golden House at Tiberias. 

Pilate is very glad of any excuse to get rid of so puzzling 
a case, which aimed at the death of an innocent individual. 
So he resolves to send Jesus, as a Galilean, to be tried by 
Herod. 

Both priests and crowd would be vexed at this delay. They 
had thought that the Governor of Judea would make short work 
of the matter; and by at once issuing an order have gratified 
their vengeance. Sadder still must have been the thought of this 
new scene of suffering to Christ Himself. Picture Him aoaiu 



NIGHT WATCHES. 355 

led along the public streets amid tlie taunts of the unfeeling 
crowd ! 

He is taken to Herod's mansion, in a part of the city called 
Bezetha, and He there stands in Herod's presence. 

Ycu will remember having already heard of Herod in the pre- 
vious story of Jesus' life. He was the same base man (Herod 
Antipas) who had beheaded John the Baptist. It was the first 
time the Holy and the Just One had ever seen the murderer of 
His beloved friend. It must have been a trial, indeed, to Jesus 
even to look on this wicked prince. Perhaps He refused to cast 
His eyes upon him. At all events, we know He declined to 
answer any of the questions which Herod put from idle curiosity. 
He had answered Pilate's questions ; but now He remained 
speechless and silent. The music of that voice which had stilled 
wind and waves — which had spoken healing and life and peace 
to the poorest and most degraded of the people — never broke 
upon the ear of this blood-stained tyrant. 

Herod proved now that he was a coward as well as a mur- 
derer. He refused to condemn Jesus and put Him to death. 
Why ? Because he knew how many at the Lake-side still loved 
the Prophet of Nazareth ; and if he were to kill Him, his own 
life would be in danger when he went back to his palace in 
Tiberias. All he does, then, is only to indulge the passions of 
his savage nature, by joining his " men of war " in mocking and 
" setting at nought " the Heavenly Saviour. 

I cannot think that among these men of war were any tridy 
great Ptomans. ISTo really brave men would have been guilty of 
such cruelties. Herod himself, had he been worthy of the name 
of king, would have scorned such treatment. But, I repeat, he, 
too, jeered at the Blessed Jesus, and encouraged his unfeeling 
soldiers to cover Him with insult. 

You can picture this divine Son of Man, clad in a robe of 
mockery, led back again to Pilate's palace. It would seem to 
have been not the Judgment Hall but " the Pavement " to which 



356 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

on tins occasion Jesus is conducted. The Governor seats himself 
on the tribunal. He is evidently troubled about the Prisoner 
being returned on his hands from Herod. Again he tells the 
chief priests, elders, and people that, after sifting their charges, 
he could find no fault in Him ; that he had sent Him to the 
Tetrarch of Galilee, who had dismissed Him (just as he was dis- 
posed to do) as innocent, and not worthy of death. 

Pilate seems more wishful than ever to release Jesus. If that 
excited crowd had been made up of priests and rulers alone, he 
knew that he would have little chance of succeeding. But he is 
in hopes that " the common people," who used to hear the Pro- 
phet of Nazareth " gladly," and who had lately given Him so 
kingly a welcome on the Hosanna road, would support his efforts 
in another attempt to save a guiltless life. 

He was met still with the shout, " Away with this Man ! " 

Would it be about this time that a servant of the palace comes 
in haste to the tribunal ? He has an urgent message to deliver 
into the ear of his master. 

It is a message from Claudia, the wife of Pilate, who has had 
a strange dream that morning. She dreamt of this very crowd 
that was now surging before the palace gates. She had seen in 
vision that same gentle Prisoner. Her urgent request is, " Beware 
thou do nothing to that holy and just person ! " 

Pilate's own sense of justice, his wife's dream, perhaps the 
very look of meek majesty before him — all these make him 
shrink from the dreadful wrong he was urged to commit. 



NIGHT WATCHES. 357 



LXIV. 

f^e is giben up fig Pilate to &e crucifietn. 

Pilate makes yet one other bold attempt to rescue the Sufferei 
from His cruel foes. 

It had been the Governor's custom, in order to please the Jews, 
to bestow a free pardon on some prisoner at the time of the Pass- 
over. The selection of the prisoner to be thus released rested 
with the people. 

He makes a similar offer now. 

He had just said to the mob in front of his palace regarding 
the Accused, " / find no fault in Him at all ; " when, therefore, 
he asks, " Whom will ye that I release to you ? " he is in hopes 
their hearts will be melted ; and that in pity for the Man he has 
again and again pronounced to be innocent, they will at once 
petition for the discharge of Jesus of Nazareth. 

In order to make quite sure they would select Him, he names 
another — a well-known criminal — called Barabbas. They will 
surely not hesitate between that meek and harmless Galilean and 
a foul robber and murderer, who had broken the laws both of God 
and man. To spare a notorious criminal — one taken red-handed 
in crime — and give one so kind and gracious up to the doom and 
death of a slave, is surely quite impossible. 

Alas ! the priests and elders had too easily turned the tide of 
popular feeling. They had stirred up the worst passions of the 
Jewish rabble. All cry out, " Not Jesus, hut Bardblas ! " 

In a few moments the prisons of Antonia have opened their 
gates. The soldiers have struck off the heavy chains from the 
hands and limbs of the convicted murderer and set him free ; 
while the mob still continues to cry out regarding the innocent 
Jesus, " Crucify Him, Grucify Him ! " 



" Why, what evil hath He done t " asked Pilate, shocked at their 
unfairness and fanatical rage. 

Louder still rose the shout, " Ci^cify Him, crucify Him ! " 

" / am innocent, then," he said, adopting the words used by his 
wife, " of the blood of this just Person ; see ye to it. " 

" His hlood," was their reply, " le on us, and on our children ! " 

Pilate comes into his Judgment Hall again. He asks his 
servant to bring him a small laver filled with water, in which he 
washes his hands. It was a sign that he would have no share in 
an unjust sentence. 

Alas ! his hands were not clean ; for he proceeded to do a very 
base, wicked, and cruel thing. Though he had told the Jews he 
had found nothing in the Prisoner worthy of death, he yet " took 
Jesus and scourged Him ; " — yes, scour yed the Man he felt and 
pronounced to be innocent ! 

Nor was this all. He delivered Him for sport up to his band 
of soldiers in the barrack-room. They throw a purple or scarlet 
robe (probably a cast-off military cloak) over His bleeding 
shoulders : — they cut some branches from the hard, prickly thorn- 
bushes that are so familiar still to the traveller in Palestine ; — 
which we have seen, indeed, on the rugged sides of Mount Zion. 
With these they make something resembling a crown, which they 
put on His head ; — the thorns piercing the meek brows. They 
further mock Him by putting a reed in His hand to serve for a 
sceptre, and then, in derision, they bow their knees and call 
Him King. 

" See Him stand ! while cruel fetters 

Bind the hands that framed the world ; 

While aronnd Him bitter mocking, 
Laughter, and contempt are hurled. 

Heathen rage and Jewish scorn, 
Meekly for our sins are borne ! " 

But I draw the veil over the dreadful scene. If devils 
wickedly triumphed, it was enough to make angels weep. 



NIGHT WA TCHES. 359 



What did Jesus do all this time ? I shall answer again 
in His own words, which we have already quoted. " I was not 
rebellious, neither turned away hack. I gave My hack to the 
smiters, and My cheeks to them that plucked off the hair : I hid 
not My face from shame and spitting." 

Even Pilate's cruel heart is touched. He brings out to the 
people the pale, bruised, insulted Saviour, wearing His robe and 
crown of thorns. He is in hopes, even yet, that spectacle of woe 
will make them relent. So, conducting Him once more to the 
steps in sight of the crowd, he says, " Behold the Man ! " 
' Behold the Man of your own race and nation,' ' the Man,' he 
must have felt too, who has been alike so patient and Godlike ; 
so different from every other prisoner that had ever stood at his 
bar. Oh, it might have melted the hardest, to see this kind and 
gracious Being — this Lamb of God — who had spoken nothing all 
His life long but loving words, and done all his life long nothing 
but loving deeds, now standing faint with loss of blood, and 
quivering with pain ! 

But the fiendish frantic cry goes up louder than ever, " Crucify 
Him, Crucify Sim !" 

Pilate feels it hopeless to try and pacify their clamours— so 
he says, " Take ye Sim and crucify Sim, for I find no fault in 
Sim." 

These coward priests and rulers, however, do not wish to bear 
the blame of the death they so desired. They wish still to get 
the authority of Pilate. So they return to ' the charge : — " Se 
made Simself the Son of God, and hy our law Se ought to die." 

This having no effect, and seeing that the Governor was bent on 
releasing Him, they try yet another artifice. Pilate had just said 
to them, " Behold your King." Their reply had been the miserably 
insincere one, " We have no King hut Qje&a.r." They knew well 
how the Governor dreaded giving any offence to the wicked 
Eoman Emperor Tiberius. " If thou let this Man go" was their 
final, knowing, fatal retort, " thou art not Caesars friend : luhoso- 
ever maketh himself a king speaketh against C^sau." 



36o BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

That appeal was too much for the selfish man : — a charge 
uttered in presence of his own soldiers ! 

" No friend to Coesar ! ! " If a whisper reached the length of 
Eome, and the ears of the Emperor, that Pilate refused to punish 
a usurper; chains and fetters like these he had seen taken off 
Barabbas might be put upon himself 

What ought he now to have done ? If he had been a truly 
brave, noble, high-minded man, he would have shielded innocence 
at any price, even though it had lost him his place and his palace. 

But he basely truckles to the shouts and fury of the multitude : 
and after three hours' torture, both of mind and body, Jesus ia 
given up, and led away to be crucified ! 

" Now the heavy doom is spoken, 
Pilate's feeble pleading ceased ; 
Jesus for the cross is chosen, 
And Barabbas is released ! 
Ah ! there is no loving word 
Not one voice of pity heard ! 
But the loud and frenzied cry, 
* Crucify Him, — crucify ! ' " 



MIDNIGHT. 



THE SUN WAS SET." — GeN. XXVIII. II. 

' THE SUN AND MOON SHALL BE DARK, AND THE STARS SHALL WITH- 
DRAW THEIR SHINING." — Joel IL lo. 

'thou hast laid me in the lowest pit, in darkness, IN THS 
DEEPS."— Ps. LXXXVIII. 6. 

' A land of darkness, as DARKNESS ITSELF ; AND OF THE SHADOW OF 
DEATH."— Job X. 22. 

' AND WHEN JOSEPH HAD TAKEN THE BODY, HE WRAPPED IT IN A CLEAN 
LINEN CLOTH, AND LAID IT IN HIS OWN NEW TOMB, WHICH HE HAD 
HEWN OUT IN THE ROCK: AND HE ROLLED A GREAT STONE 7 
THE DOOR OF THE SEPULCHRE." — MaTT. XXVII. 59, 6o. 



MIDNIGHT. 363 



LXV. 

fie 10 taj^ten to (fTal&arg. 

We pass from the Night Watches of Gethsemane, with their after 
hours of mockery and torture, to the Midnight of deepest dark- 
ness which gathers round the cross of Calvary. Not only do we 
watch THE Gkeat Sun going down ; but in the words of one of 
the later prophets, the very stars seem to have " withdrawn their 
shining." 

Let it be with devout and adoring reverence that we gaze on 
this closing scene : — Jesus, the patient Lamb of God, nailed to 
the accursed tree ! 

In a picture of the Crucifixion by one of the pious painters of 
the Middle Ages, the front of the cross on which the meek and 
Lowly Saviour suffered is not seen. The artist wisely felt that it 
was a subject too awful to attempt. He has, therefore, hidden 
from view altogether the pale, drooping face and the tortured 
frame. Nothing is visible but the back part of the cross, and 
the dark shadow it casts on the ground, A great modern French 
painter (Ger6me) has carried this idea even farther. In his treat- 
ment of the same subject, no Sufferer is presented to view. The 
eye is first and chiefly arrested by the shadow of three crosses 
falling on the hill slope, — the centre shadow being the deepest 
and broadest of the three. But the faces of those passing by oi 
standing near, as they gaze upwards on some countenance not 
seen, tell truly and effectively the awful story — more effectively 
and touchingly, indeed, than if he had loaded his canvas with all 
that is often so ghastly in the works of Italian painters. He 
helps the spectator farther to read his meaning — to understand 
this eclipse of the all- Glorious Sun — by the unearthly gloom 
which drapes the landscape, and the pale sickly hue which covers 
the very buildings of Jerusalem. Nothing else claims attention 



in the picture, save some streaks in the distant Eastern horizon. 
Bars of lovely roseate-cloud help to remind those gazmg on the 
scene of anguish and horror, that that mysterious darkness is not 
to last for ever — but that ere long " the shadow of death will be 
turned into the morning ; " and " a new enlightened world " "will 
be able to sing the well-known lines of Wesley, — 

" Love's redeeming work is done ; 
Fought the fight — the hattle won : 
Lo ! our Sun's eclipse is o'er ; 
Lo ! He sets in blood no more ! " ^ 

If it were not needful, in a life of Jesus, to include the story 
of " His Gross and Passion," I would willingly, lil^e these painters, 
leave it entirely out. I shall, however, try at least to dwell as 
little as possible on the details of bodily pain. 

The spectacle is both so awful and so humbling, that before 
I speak of the closing hours of Him who endured all this grief 
and woe that we might live for ever, let me, in a word, recall to 
your minds who that pale, weary, tortured, dying Sufferer really 
was. He seems nothing more than a helpless cruelly-used man. 
But it makes the scene all the more mysterious, when you carry 
in your thoughts the name given to Him in the great hymn so 
dear to old and young — 

" Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ, 
Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father." 

Or rather, to give the words- on which these and all " Passion 
liymns " are founded — " Who, being in the form of God, thought it 
not robbery to be equal with God ; but made Himself of no reputa- 
tion, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and loas made in 
the likeness of men ; and being found in fashion as a man, He 



^ A similar reverential treatment has suggested itself to our artist, in th« 
accompanying illustration, altogether apart from the above remarks. The 
three crosses are seen, but they are " afar off." 




There were also women looking on afar off" ^Mark xv. 40) . (opposite page 364) 



MIDNIGHT. 365 



hitmlled Himself, and became obedient unto death, EVEN THE 
DEATH OE THE CEOSS!" 

About nine o'clock in the morning, a crowd is seen coming out 
of Pilate's palace. He has given the fatal order. The news 
soon spreads abroad that Jesus is about to be killed. The death 
inflicted by the Jews on their criminals was by stoning. But 
the Son of Man and Lord of Glory, as He Himself had foretold 
His disciples, is to be crucified. 

Crucifixion, as I have previously remarked, was deemed the 
death of greatest shame. It was a punishment only inflicted on 
the meanest of the people, — on slaves, or on captives taken in 
battle. No Eoman citizen, however great his crime, could be 
sentenced to so degrading an end. It was called " the accursed 
death of the cross." 

It soon became evident that the report regarding the doom of the 
meek and lowly Saviour is true. The noisy crowd is coming 
along the narrow street crying out, " Crucify Him ! " A band of 
soldiers is headed by an officer on horseback, followed by the 
chief priests and rulers ; and in the midst is God's own innocent 
Son, the loving Christ of Nazareth. 

How He has " laid all His glory by ! " The Prince of the 
kings of the earth carries on His shoulder a beam of wood ; — 
the rough portion of a tree on which He is presently to be nailed. 

I think you will say, " Is it possible ? " Even though He 
were no more than a mere man — " is it possible ? Can this be 
the very same, who, five days before, was welcomed into the city 
with shoutings and rejoicing ? Where are now the crowds who 
spread their leafy carpets on the Hosanna road, and caUed Him 
King ? " 

The weight of the wooden cross is too much for Him, after all 
the torture of mind He had endured ; the night-watch of agony — 
the sleeplessness and scourgings. He falls exhausted on the hard 
street pavement with the cross above Him ! 

The soldiers seem to shrink from touching that hateful beam, 
or helping to ease the Sufferer of the burden. What do they do 1 



366 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



A sable-coloured man i'rom Africa, a native of Cyrene, attend- 
ing the Passover, happens to be coming in from the country just 
as the procession has made its way outside the city gate. The 
soldiers seize hold of him, and compel him to bear the cross of 
Jesus. 

Was this, do you suppose, out of kindness or pity ? 

No ; I rather think it was only prompted by cruelty. They 
were afraid Christ might die from very weakness before He 
reached Calvary ; and they would lose the base gTatification of 
watching His slow sufferings. 

This Cyrenian was honoured in being made to share the shame 
of Jesus. It was said that from that day and hour he joined 
himself to the sinless Lamb of God, by whose side he walked, 
and that his two sons became members of the early Christian 
Church. 

You can follow then, in thought, the gathering crowd along 
what well might be called the " Dolorous " or " Sad Way." Ee- 
leased from the heavy weight, Jesus walks on, surrounded with 
taunts and jeers. Probably, as was the custom also — though not 
mentioned in the story of the Gospels — a Eoman soldier went 
before Him with a trumpet, proclaiming the crime for which He 
was going to die. 

Amid the noise of the rabble, and the tread of feet. His ear 
caught the sound of something like people weeping. On turn- 
ing round, who does He see ? 

It was the first drop of comfort in His bitter cup. Some of 
the women of Jerusalem, who had been led to own Him as their 
Master, Saviour, and divine Friend, are close behind. They dare 
say nothing : but He knows all that they are feeling towards 
Him by the tears they shed. When He fell under the burden of 
the cross, He may first have heard their bitter sobs. It was a 
proof not to be mistaken of tender, holy love and sympathy. 

He turns round His pale, blood-stained face, and speaks to 
them calmly and gently, yet in tones of intense sadness — 
" Daughters of Jerusalem" says He, " do not tveep for Me, rather 



MIDNIGHT. 367 



I for yourselves and for your children." ' Eather weep over 
the sorrows and sufferings your nation will have to endure for 
all their sins ; and specially for the crowning crime of My death.' 
Ah, how terribly fulfilled, in less than forty years, were His 
words of pity and woe ! The day did come, when thousands on 
thousands of Jews (" themselves and their children ") were 
crucified by order of Titus the Eoman general. The historian 
tells us, indeed, that so vast were the numbers of these poor 
sufferers, that there was scarce room for the crosses to stand 
where they were planted on the slopes around the city. Then, 
surely, the prayer of Christ's enemies was answered in a way 
they never thought of when they uttered it, " Ris blood be on us, 
and on our children I " 



LXVI. 

His sufermss on tfje ^ross &egtn. 

Jesijs is not the only Victim who is to be crucified that memor- 
able Friday. 

In order, perhaps, to attract a dense crowd, so as to make His 
death as widely known as possible, two other criminals are also 
brought from their cells. They are bound with ropes, and are 
walking in the same dismal procession. They are supposed by 
some to have belonged to the fierce robber-band of which Barab- 
bas was captain. One who has vividly pictured the scene, has 
thus represented Barabbas following his unhappy fellow-bandits 
to Calvary: — 

" I joined the crowd, that streaming through the gate 
Passed on to Golgotha. I stood and watched 
The three led forth to death. All faint and weak, 
And sinking 'neath the burden of His cross, 



368 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

The Prophet Teacher came. The other two 
Were sharers with me in my outlaw life ; 
With me had plundered, revelled, dwelt in caves ; 
Or in the forest depths of Gilead's hills, 
With me had dared defy our Roman lords." ^ 

It was still early — about the time of the morning sacrifice. 
The procession must have been some little distance from the 
Temple ; but in the pauses of the noise and babble of the crowd, 
the ear of Jesus may have caught the blast of the silver trumpets, 
reminding of the sacred Paschal season. 

At last a halt is made. They have reached a bare gloomy 
place, outside the walls of the city, named Golgotha. It was 
called so because, probably, it was a low hill of rounded shape, 
something in the form of a skull. It was the ' Tyburn ' of 
Jerusalem ; the place where thieves and robbers and murderers 
were executed. 

I repeat, that I shall not pain you by describing minutely all 
that now took place. Enough to say, that the body of the 
Blessed Jesus was nailed to the cross. The cross was then 
inserted, with a cruel jerk, into a pit or socket dug in the ground. 

The hours of intense suffering have begun, and the glaring sun 
is beating on His unsheltered head ! 

The four soldiers on duty while away the time by dividing the 
clothes that had been worn by Jesus amongst them. There are 
two garments. His upper vestment they tear into four parts ; 
" to each soldier a part." But the one beneath, worn by the poor 
of Galilee, and which was " woven without seam," they do not 
divide. There may possibly, unknown to them, have been a 
sacred value and interest attached to this seamless garment. 
Who knows but it may have been one woven for Him by His 
own mother in the evening hours in the humble home of 
Nazareth, or in some dwelling by the Lake-side ? For this the 
soldiers cast lots. Little did they think that even in this small 
matter they were fulfilling a prophecy contained in the 2 2d 

^ Professor Pluuiptre's " Jesus Bar-abbas." 



MIDNIGHT. 369 



Psalm — " They 'pierced my hands and my feet. I may tell all my 
hones; they look and stare upon me. They part my garments among 
them, and cast lots upon my vesture" (ver. 16, 17, 18). 

Then these heartless guards resume the stern duties assigned 
to them. A crucifixion was nothing new to men who were 
accustomed to shed blood like water. 

Meanwhile, the lips of Jesus are heard to breathe an earnest 
prayer in the midst of His anguish. What are the words of it ? 
Is it a prayer like that He poured forth in the Garden of 
Gethsemane, that if possible the cup might pass from Him ? Is 
it a petition that His Father would send a legion of angels to 
smite down His cruel murderers and deliver Him from lingering 
torture ? 

No, it is a prayer, indeed, for His enemies ; but it is a prayer 
for mercy on their souls ; — a prayer of kindness and compassion, 
uttered, too, at the very moment when the nails were cruelly 
tearing His hands and feet. How the language must have struck 
these Eoman soldiers ! Not bitter curses, as they were wont to 
hear from the lips of those they crucified ; but an earnest entreaty 
on their behalf. No wonder that tradition speaks of some of 
them becoming afterwards Christians — brought to use very 
different words from those they once would have uttered : — " God 
forbid that we should glory save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus 
Christ ! " 

The custom was to place over the cross the name and the crime 
for which the criminal suffered. These were generally printed, 
too, on a wooden label. This label was, sometimes, previously 
fixed round the prisoner's neck on the way to the place of execu- 
tion. Large words are inscribed in black letters on a board above 
the sacred head of Jesus. Pilate had ordered them to be put in 
three languages, so that all might be able to read them: — 

"THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS." 

In all the sad scene there is only one touch of pity mentioned 
on the part of His crucifiers. It seems to have been usual, during 
a crucifixion, to dull the sense of pain by giving some drops of 

2 A 



370 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

myrrh, mixed with vinegar (or the sour wine of Palestine). This 
was offered to the suffering Lamb of God. He merely put it to 
his lips, — no more. Why, do you suppose, did He thus refuse ? 

It was because He did not wish to deaden suffering. He re- 
solved to drink the bitter cup, put into His hands for the world's 
redemption, to its dregs. The two thieves beside Him would 
likely accept gratefully the mixture, and thus have the severity of 
their death-pangs materially diminished. Not so with Jesus. He 
heard every cruel jest, every mocking word. He saw the crowd 
making light of his tortures. He desired no relief till He had 
paid the fullest wages of sin. The Captain of our Salvation Avas 
" made ])erfect through suffering : " — " He endured, as seeing Him 
who is invisible." How exactly the words, spoken i 5 oo years 
before, in the same Psalm from which I have already quoted, were 
fulfilled : — " All they that see me laugh me to scorn : they shoot out 
the lip, they shake the head, sayiiig, He trusted on the Lord that he 
would deliver him : let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him " 
(ver. 7, 8). 

And so we read in the story of the Gospels, how the unfeeling 
passers-by only wagged their heads in derision, saying, " Come 
doiuu ! Come down ! Thou who didst say Thou wouldst destroy 
our beautiful Temple and build it in three days, show us that 
Thou hast the power by now saving Thyself, and descending from 
Thy cross ! " 

Even the chief priests and elders joined in the taunt, — " He 
saved othej^s. Himself He cannot save ! " 

Nor was it the coarse crowd, the savage soldiers, and the en- 
raged X->riests and elders alone, who were thus loading Him with 
jeers and insults. Even the two thieves at His side added their 
unpitying challenge — " If thou he the Messiah, save thyself and us." 
Listen once more to the prophetic words of Jesus in the 2 2d 
Psalm. How it describes the scene ! " Many lulls have compassed 
me : strong hidls of Bashan have beset me round. They gaped upon 
me with their mouths, as a leavening and a roaring lion. I am 
poured out like water, and all my hones are out of joint : my heart 
is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my howcls " (ver. i 2, 13, 14). 



MIDNIGHT. 37 1 



Yes, wherever His eye turns He can see nothing but these 
" roaring lions." On either side of Him is a dying, blaspheming 
felon. Beneath him are the rude soldiers. Before Him the 
mocking crowd. And, worst of all, unseen by mortal eye, is th& 
' roaring lion,' Satan himseK — assailing the meek, sinless Saviour. 

Yet all this time not a word of anger or complaint escapes His 
lips ! 

We are told that at such scenes of crucifixion the poor victims 
were often heard, either shrieking out with pain, or, as I have 
already said, cursing their tyrants and crucifiers as they implored 
in vain for mercy ; but the gentle Lamb of God is still, as we 
found Him in the Garden, -" dumb before His shearers." " He 
opened not His mouth." 

" Still pours along the multitude ; 
.Still rends the heavens the shout of blood ; 
Hands clenched with rage — their vestures torn, 
The curse, the taunt, the laugh of scorn, 
All that the dying hour can sting 
Are round Thee now, thou thorn-crowned King ! 

" Yet cursed and tortured, taunted, spurned, 
No wrath is for the wrath returned, 
No A'engeance flashes from His eye, 
The Sufferer calmly waits to die ; 
What say those lips by anguish riven] 
' God, be my murderers forgiven ! ' " ^ 




372 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



LXVII. 

W parKons t|)e penitent Ei)ief, anU commentrs l^is Mot|)cr 
to ti}e care of 3o|}n. 

Perhaps it may have been this Godlike silence and holy calm, 
this meekness and patience of the Blessed Jesus, which led to the 
next incident in these awful moments. 

One of the two thieves continues railing at the sinless One 
by his side. But the other has ceased to do so. He has come 
rather to pity Him; — to pity Him, because he knows He is 
innocent, and is suffering wrongfully. 

He first addresses and reproves his wicked comrade. " We 
receive," he says, " the due reward of our deeds, hut this Man hath 
done nothing amiss." 

But he more than pities Jesus. In that hour, when every 
other voice is raised against Him, that dymg thief pleads for 
Him! 

He may probably have heard often before of the name — 
" Jesus of Nazarethy Who knows but that from some den or 
cave, where he and his robber band were lurking for their prey — 
perhaps the black caverned crags in the dell of Arbela ; perhaps 
the brigand haunts in " the Bloody way " on the road to Jericho — 
he may have mingled with the crowd where Jesus was ! Who 
knows but that, unknown to his comrades in crime, he may have 
listened to one or more of the gracious words which came out of 
the mouth of the Holy Teacher, and witnessed one or more of His 
mighty deeds ? Now, as he tvu^ns his dying eye towards the 
sacred face on the centre cross, he reads the title — " Jesus of 
Nazareth, the King of the Jews." He trembles. He believes ! 
He calls that dying One " Lord!' He speaks of His " kingdom ;" 
the kingdom Pilate had smiled at. He prays to Him ; he asks 
Jesus to " rememler " him ! 



MIDNIGHT. 373 



Jesus had not spoken up to this time. But He speaks now. 
All the jibes and taunts of H s foes He has heard in silence. But 
when the prayer of a poor hell-deserving outcast reaches His dying 
ear — the lips of love are unsealed. In words which have proved 
like a gleam of light to many in the thickest gloom of the daik 
Valley, he says, " Verily I say unto thee,. To-day shalt tliou he with 
me in Paradise ! " 

Is it not a beautiful thought, Jesus and the dying thief He had 
saved, entering Paradise together ? The pierced hands of Jesus 
opened the golden gate of mercy to the chief of sinners ! 

But what all this time of the Saviour's disciples and friends ? 
How dreadful for them to think of their dear Lord thus suffering ! 
Not a few of them, too, beheld Him thus hanging between heaven 
and earth — a spectacle to devils and angels and men — dying in 
slow agony ! 

Some of these kept at a distance — " beholding afar off " — not 
venturing, either by sign or by word, to show how deeply they 
felt. Chief among them were some women from the Lake-side, 
the same, perhaps, I have already spoken of, whom He had joined 
in the pilgrim caravan at Jericho that very day week. Others 
were nearer. They had gradually made their way through the 
crowd till they stood as close as they could under the cross. 
Their presence must have been as comforting as that of the Angel 
who was sent to strengthen Jesus in Gethsemane the night 
before. 

There was one female in that crowd who surely to Him 
had a deeper interest than all the rest. It was Mary, His 
own mother. She was there along with her sister and Mary 
Magdalene. 

Ah, now, surely, had come at last to her the sad hour, of which 
aged Simeon had spoken thirty-three years before ! She is near 
the foot of the cross, gazing on her pale, bleeding Son. One of 
the very oldest Christian hymns, called the ' Stahat Mater,' the 
English translation of which may be familiar to some of you, 
thus recalls the touching scene and moment — 



374 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

" At the cross, her station keeping, 
Stood the mournful mother weeping, 
Where He hung — her dying Lord ; 
For*her soul, of joy Lereaved, 
Bowed with anguish, deeply grieved, 
Felt ike sharp and piercing sword." 

How she would think of all He had been to her in the past ! 
How different this hour from those sunny days at Nazareth, when 
in His sacred boyhood He roamed the flowery hills, or sat pensive 
by her side in the evening twilight, or wrought with His own 
hands the livelong day to supply her wants and repay her early 
love ! 

Jesus sees her. He gazes upon her in silent compassion and 
tenderness. In the midst of His dying agonies His filial love is 
deep as ever. What does He do ? What does He say ? 

He unburdens His heart of His one earthly wish — His one 
earthly anxiety. It is that she, His beloved mother, would be 
6X3ecially cared for. He desh^es to spare her more suffering. He 
cannot bear to think of her remaining where she is — a spectator 
of still deeper anguish — knowing, as He does, that His own 
darkest hour of woe had yet to come. 

At Mary's side there is another friend very dear to Jesus. It 
is the Apostle John. 

" Woman," said He, with a faint but most tender voice, as He 
points to the loving disciple, " behold thy son." 

And then He makes over to John this most precious earthly 
charge — " Son, behold thy mother." 

They both understood His wish that they should leave together 
the scene of sorrow. Yet it must have been hard, too, for ]\iary 
to take at such a moment her last farewell. What a look of 
anguish that must have been when she raised her eyes, hitherto 
bent on the ground, and gazed for the last time on the ghastly 
face that strove in its agony to give a parting fond look, if not 
smile, of affection ! How He would think, too, of all she had 
been and done to Him — the hours of earliest infancy in Bethle- 
hem ; the days at Nazareth ; the nights when she had ofttimes 




And from that hour, that disciple took her unto his own home " (John 

xix. 27.) pagez7S 



MIDNIGHT. 375 



sung over His slumbers her holy temple-song ; the hours of sick- 
ness in which she had soothed his aching head ; the thirty bliss- 
ful years they had spent together, each one of which had added 
to her claims on His filial love ! 

Obedient to His silent wish, the beloved disciple takes the 
sorrowful mother of Jesus away from the scene. Her bent form 
and slow step and pale cheek tell how deeply the sword had 
pierced. How different does she look now from what she was 
when we first knew her as the young maiden in her village home ! 
John gently supports her, and, with her arm linked in his, he 
took her from that hour to his own home in Jerusalem. You 
see them in the accompanying picture reaching the portals, whose 
side-stones were still red with the sprinkled blood of yesterday's 
Paschal lamb. 



LXYIII. 

He stivers amttr t!}e tiariEtncss, anU at last i&oi»s fUts 
t)ratr ixi treatfj. 

Although now truly midnight to the Soul of Jesus, the fierce 
sun of noon is pouring down his rays on the three victims on 
the three crosses. 

But suddenly the bright blue sky becomes dim and cloudy. 
A thick darkness settles all round Jerusalem. It looks almost as 
if that glorious orb in the outer world had hid his face, ashamed 
to gaze on the sufferings of his Almighty Maker ! 

You remember the strange brilliance of the nightly heavens 
at the birth of Jesus ; when shining hosts of angels seemed to 
have fetched down lamps from the upper sanctuary to light up 
the plains of Bethlehem ? Now it is the reverse. Nature, which 
then put on her white vestal garments, clothes herself at mid-day 
in sackcloth and mourning. No wonder ! That sun had wit* 



376 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

nessed many dreadful scenes since he first shone on the beautiful 
earth, but never a scene like this. 

" The sun paled in a fearful hour, 
The stars might well grow diia. 
When this mortality had power 
So to o'ershadow Him." 

The darkness continues for three hours. During the time it 
lasted, all was still. The crowd seemed awed, and the Divine 
Sufferer, too, remained in speechless agony. Silence and gloom 
brooded over the scene. 

At the end of these three hours, there is a loud wail heard 
rising from the central cross. It is Jesus uttering the bitterest 
cry that ever arose from earth to heaven — " My God, my God, 
WHY HAST Thou forsaken Me ? " 

The awful soul-sorrow of Gethsemane has come back to Him. 
We never can know all the mental anguish of those three hours 
of darkness which ended in that wail of woe ! 

The assaults of Satan were terrible, but most terrible of all 
was the hiding of His Father's countenance. The cruel tortures 
of man were bad enough. These He could bear : — these He had 
borne without a word of complaint. But when the Father's 
loving face appears to be veiled, we seem to hear Him say, in 
the words of the old Patriarch, " Have pity upon Me, have pity 
upon Me, ye my friends ; for the hand of God hath touched 
Me!" 

Oh deepest of all deep mysteries ! The " Light of Lights " — 
" Brighter than the Sun " — " dwelling in the light which no man 
can approach unto " — undergoing such an eclipse as this ! — exclaim- 
ing, not of human foes or hostile devils, but bemoaning to His own 
Divine Father — " Thotc hast laid Me in the lowest pit, in dar^Jcness, 
in the deeps. Thy wrath lieth hard upon Me, and thou hast afflicted 
Me with all Thy waves " (Ps. Ixxxviii. 6, /). 

We never can explain — we never can fathom — the full mean- 
ing of that desertion. Doubtless He speaks as our Sin-bearer. 
He felt the burden of the world's guilt laid upon Him — " He hare 



MIDNIGHT. 377 



(MT sins in His oiun lody on the tree." In such a sense, but in no 
other, could it be that God had " forsaken Him." Never for a 
moment could the Father cease to love His dear Son. Hence, in 
the very thickest darkness, Jesus clings to the joyfid assurance — 
« Mt God ! " 

It is now drawing towards afternoon. The crosses had been 
erected nearly six hours. 

" / thirst," feebly exclaimed the dying Eedeemer. It was the 
only boon which, during all that long time, He had asked for 
Himself. 

A jar was standing close by, filled with the sour wine I have 
already mentioned which was taken by the Eoman soldiers. One 
of these, touched more than his fellows with pity at seeing such 
goodness along with such suffering, ran and put a sponge on the 
end of a reed, and, dipping it into this vessel, raised it to the 
parched lips of Jesus. 

Immediately after that, the dying Saviour utters just one word. 
It is three words in our Bible. It was only one in the language 
He used: — " It is finished !" The Great Sun of Eighteousness 
is just setting amid the shadows of death ! 

" Thou noble CoiTntenance ! 

All earthly suns are pale 
Before the brightness of that glance 

At which a world shall quail ; 

How is it quenched and gone ! 

Those gracious eyes grow dim ! 
Whence grew that cheek so pale and wan ? 

Who dared to scoff at Him ? " i 

** It is finished ! " Yes ; but it was the shout of victory ! It 
was proclaiming that Satan was overthrown — that the Great 
Eedemption of the world was completed — that peace had been 
made through the blood of His cross — that, "having overcome 

1 Paul Gerhardt 



378 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

the sharpness of death, He had opened the kmgdom of heaven to 
all believers ! " 

Then, having commended His spirit into the hands of His 
Father, He bowed His head on His breast. 

You sometimes hear of people who, from very great grief, are 
said to " die of a broken heart." It is thought by many able 
writers this was really true of Jesus : — that owing to His awful 
mental sorrow — far more killing than bodily pain — His heart 
was actually ruptured. 

Did He not Himself say, in the words of the 69th Psalm, 
" Reproach hath broken my heart " ? 

Though all is quiet and silent now on that cross, Nature is not 
silent. 

Does she not seem to say, in her own dumb language ; — ' That 
dying, that dead Man, is the Great God ' ? 

While the heavens are still darkened, the whole of the city of 
Jerusalem is shaken with an earthquake ; the solid rocks are split 
in twain, and the graves are opened. 

The High Priest, too, was startled in the midst of his devotions 
in the Temple by the effects of this earthquake. The rocky hill 
of Moriah, on which the Temple was built, quivered under it. 
Just at the time of the evening sacrifice, when the smoke was 
going up from the altar of incense, the curtain which hung down 
in front of the Holy of Holies was rent in twain, torn from top 
to bottom. It was the sign and signal that the earthly priesthood 
was at an end : that " the way " was now open " into the Holiest 
of all by the blood of Jesus." 

But to return to the scene on Calvary. 

Those who hitherto had only mocked, now look up to that 
meek head drooping on the cross, and as they beat their breasts, 
exclaim, " Truly, this was the Son of God ! " 

One of those who uttered this confession was the officer, or 
Centurion, commanding the troop of soldiers. He had seen the 
darkness, and felt the earthquake shock. These two things alone 



MIDNIGHT, 379 



must have greatly startled and astonished him. But he had seen 
something more anmzing still. He had watched, for six long hours, 
the words and actions of that central Sufferer. He had often seen 
soldiers die as heroes amid the horrors of war. He had at times 
seen the gladiators or miserable captives, who were torn by wild 
beasts in the Eoman amphitheatre, bearing themselves bravely in 
the midst of cruel pain ; but he had never seen so holy a death 
as this ; — such patience, such gentleness, such submission ! There 
were indeed no outer rays of brightness ; — no halo, or radiant 
circlet, such as the Christian painters make around the sacred 
head, to assert or indicate His Deity. But there was a brightness 
and halo more wondrous still. It was " the beauty of holiness." 
The divine glory shone in His every look and word through that 
suffering flesh. It compelled a stern warrior to own Him first as 
a " righteous man ;" and then to add, " Surely he must be " (what 
I have heard them call Him in mockery) " the Son of God ! " 

Even some of the vulgar mob, who had waited during aU 
these dreadful hours, returned to the city smiting on their breasts, 
awed by the look and bearing of the crucified Jesus : not a few 
of them, we may well believe, shocked at the inhuman cruelty of 
His murderers. 



LXIX. 

f^e is talten liobm from ti)e Cross anU lailr in a Eom&« 

Three o'clock was past, and the Jewish Sabbath began at sunset. 
As the law would not allow of dead bodies being taken down 
from the cross during Sabbath hours, the Jews asked as a favour 
of Pilate, that the soldiers should hasten the deaths of the prisoners, 
so that their corpses might be removed at once, and not be left tc 
pollute the sacred day. 



38o BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

The two thieves were still alive. Crucified criminals were 
known indeed to linger on in their agony for days together ; so 
the soldiers take iron hammers or clubs, and break tluir legs first. 
When they come to the centre cross, they find Jesus is dead 
already ; His eyes are quite closed. Accordingly, they do not 
mar His sacred body. They thus fulfilled a prophecy about Him 
as the true Paschal Lamb : that though His blood was to be 
shed, and His flesh pierced and torn, yet " a lone of Him should 
not he hrohen." 

But one of the soldiers takes a spear and plunges it into His 
side, reaching the heart. It was to make quite sure that life was 
gone. A stream of blood and water flows out of the gash which 
the spear has made. 

The remainder of the story is shortly told. Joseph of 
Arimathea, a rich man, and a secret disciple, makes offer of a 
new tomb which he had built in his own garden. He went him- 
self to Pilate, and got leave to convey the dead body of Jesus to 
this sepulchre. The Jews then, like the Jews in Jerusalem at 
this day, had their places of burial adjoining the city. Nothing 
struck me more than the thousands of white grave-stones, mingling 
with old mouldering ones, all along the Valley of Jehoshaphat, on 
both sides of the Brook Kidron up close to the Eastern wall. 

Although the tomb was prepared by Joseph for himself, he felt 
it an honour indeed to give it as a royal chamber for " the King 
of the Jews." The name of this pious man will always be loved 
and honoured for what he did. The disciples and friends of 
Jesus, so helpless at this trying hour, must have been solaced by 
knowing that the lifeless body of their dear Lord had been 
tenderly cared and provided for. Pilate, I daresay, would only 
have scorned a request from them ; but he was not loath to grant 
a favour to this wealthy citizen. 

The bodies of the two thieves would likely be thrown into 
some pit in the VaUey of Hinnom, there to be devoured by the 
dogs that prowled about the city. This was the usual fate of 
those who suffered death for their crimes. The grave of Jesu? 



MIDNIGHT. 381 



was in the peaceful retirement of a private garden, amid the sweet 
fragrance of the flowers He loved so well. 

Both Joseph and Mcodemns were members of the very council 
that condemned Christ. They not only refused, however, to consent 
to the wicked act of the Sanhedrim ; but they thus openly told, by 
a deed as kind and generous as the other was base, how strongly 
opposed they were to the cruel death of a just and innocent 
Prophet, and would have no share in the crime. It was a bold 
thing for them to do. Perhaps had either Joseph or Nicodemus 
been alone, they would have felt unequal to the task. But the 
one brave-hearted and truth-loving man would help on and 
encourage the other. When the disciples are scattered like timid 
sheep, the body of their dead Shepherd is rescued from devouring 
wolves by those we should have least expected to interfere — two 
wealthy Jewish strangers : " Se made His grave with the wicked, 
and with THE EICH in His death ! " 

You can, doubtless, recall the only other time we have heard 
the name of Nicodemus. It was when he came to see Jesus 
timidly by night. Now he comes boldly and without fear in the 
open light of day. There is a beautiful candour and love of truth 
in this " man of the Pharisees." Unlike most of those of his 
class, he had the fear of doing wrong, and the wish to do what 
was fair and just and right. Tradition says, that shortly after this, 
he became himself a disciple of Jesus, and was baptized by the 
hands of Peter and John. Christ had told him in that midnight 
converse how God had " so loved the world " as to " give His only 
Begotten Son." He had seen and learnt surely on the Cross of 
Calvary what that " so " meant. " As Moses had lifted' up the 
serpent in the wilderness " (other words of Jesus to him that same 
night), so had he seen the Son of Man "lifted up." It is 
pleasant for us to think of him as one of those of whom Jesus 
speaks when He said — " And I, if I he lifted wp on the cross, will 
draw all men unto Me." Mary of Bethany, with the contents of 
her alabaster-box, anointed her Lord for His Ijurying. What Jesua 
said of her on that occasion may at all events be said with equal 
truth alike of the good and kind Joseph, and of his brother Jew — 



382 • BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



that " Wlieresoever this Gospel shall be preached in the whole 
world, there shall this deed be told for a memorial" (Matt. 
xxvi. 13). 

The soldiers take out the iron nails which, eight hours before, 
had been driven into the hands and feet of Jesus ; and Joseph, 
along with jSTicodemus, wrap the Body in a roll of fine linen, and 
embalm it with sweet spices. The fragrant myrrh and pounded 
aloes, brought by Nicodemus, are placed all through the folds of 
the shroud. It was a costly offering, for its weight was a hundred 
pounds. The Head was wrapped round with a separate linen 
napkin pure white. 

It is now soft evening light. The darkness of three hours ago 
has passed. The sun is nearing the western horizon as the 
precious burden is laid in its tomb. That tomb, I need hardly 
tell you, was not, like our graves, dug in the ground. It was a 
cave or small cavern hewn out of the solid rock. The sepulchre 
was new ; no body had ever been laid there before. It would 
seem also to have been very near the place of crucifixion. They 
rolled a great stone to the opening to keep all secure. 

Two sorrowful women from the Lake-side are watching at a 
little distance. If the body had been cast, like that of other 
criminals, into a common pit or grave in the open field, they 
could not bear to have been thus near. But in the quiet of that 
garden, away from public traffic, they can sit in pensive sorrow, 
and gaze on the spot which holds their 'loved and lost.' They 
have their own purposes of coming, after the Sabbath is over, with 
other fragrant spices to complete the embalming. Meanwhile 
they are too tearful and sad to be of any help ; and they 
feel they may well leave this first hasty burial in the hands 
of others. 

The darkness was already gathering as these two sorrowing 
friends, perhaps others with them, left the hallowed spot, and 
went, with little thought of rest or sleep, to their various homes. 
The other women had already gone into the city to buy spices 
before the shops were closed. They would thus be in readiness. 



MIDNIGHT. 383 



after the Sabbath's forced rest was ended, to return to their holy 
labours at the tomb. 

I may well end by saying, Oh marvellous story ! "We noted, 
at the beginning of this volume, the condescension of Jesus in 
coming into the world, not as a full-grown man, but as a feeble, 
helpless Babe — laid in a manger, and hanging on His mother's 
breasts. We have to note the same, regarding the manner of His 
death as that of His birth. If it was needful for Him to die as 
a great sacrifice for sin. He might have died in solitude. He 
might have ascended the heights of Hermon, as Moses did those 
of JSTebo, and with no ruffian taunts or cruel jests sounding in His 
ear, but with His own disciples around Him, He might have 
yielded up His spirit to His Great Father in heaven. 

But He wishes here, also, to show the marvels of His con- 
descension. He submits, not to a hero's, but to a felon's end. 
He dies the most cruel and shameful of deaths. 

" Bound npon the accursed tree, 
Taint and bleeding, who is He ? 
By the eyes so pale and dim, 
Streaming blood and writhing limb, 

*' By the last and bitter cry, 
The Ghost given up in agony ; 
By the lifeless body laid 
In the chamber of the dead. 

" Lord ! our suppliant knees we bow. 
Son of God ! 'tis Thou, 'tis Thou I"^ 

" Ye hnow the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, though He 
was rich, yet for our sakes He became pooe (stooped to the lowest 
depths of shame and suffering), that we through His ^poverty might 
he rich I " 



1 Milman. 



384 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

LXX. 

f^tS Eomfi is bjatttjcti iig a ffiuartr of SoItJtcrs. 

Jesus was laid in Joseph's rock-hewn sepulclire, on Friday, before 
sunset. 

The Jewish Sabbath has now passed, on which day all " rested, 
according to the commandment." It was the saddest Sabbath 
in the world's history. Think what must have been the feelings 
of the disciples of Jesus during its long hours — thdr Lord lying 
dead I Think of the sorrow of His many other devoted friends — 
those from the Lake-side — those at Bethany and elsewhere ! 
Think, above all, of His loved mother's anguish of soul. She 
could say, in sadder tones than those of the aged Patriarch, 
" / AM bereaved ! " 

It must have been sorrow, too, in the midst of much outer joy. 
In Jerusalem that Sabbath day was an high day. Not only was 
it the Passover Sabbath, but it was the day before the Festival of 
" First Fruits." A vast number of people, old and young, went 
out in the evening to some field near the city, where priests, 
appointed by the Sanhedrim, gathered a sheaf of new corn. This 
sheaf was taken next morning, with the sound of music and amid 
crowded streets, to the Temple, and there waved before the altar: 
an ox with gilded horns and an olive-wreath on his head going in 
front of the priestly band. 

But the blast of the trumpets, and the singing of Paschal 
and harvest hymns, must, in the case of all the followers of Jesus, 
have been music and songs to " heavy hearts." The city was 
bright with the glorious sun of a Palestine spring, but the true 
" Sun of their souls " had set in darkness and death. So stupified 
were His disciples with sorrow, that they seem to have forgotten 
all about the saying of their dear Lord, that He was to rise again 
from the grave. 



MIDNIGHT. 385 



It is not unlikely" that on this Sabbath, — to them of gloom and 
woe, these trembling ones had shut themselves in the same upper 
chamber where they had so lately listened to their Master's 
tender farewell words of comfort — the gracious voice they feared 
they would never listen to again. How they would talk through 
their tears about yesterday's awful scene ! how they would dwell 
on the happy, holy past — the days of loving friendship and 
sacred joy never more to return ! 

At the close of that Sabbath, while the streets of Jerusalem 
would be ringing with the festal mirth I have just described, a 
watch, not of Jewish, but of Eoman soldiers, clad in armour, have 
been placed at the tomb where Jesus was laid. Possibly they 
may have been the same soldiers who, the day before, were set on 
guard at the cross, and who witnessed so heartlessly the scene of 
agony. They pace by turns up and down aU night in the silent 
garden. 

Why have these soldiers been sent there ? 

It was owing to a request made to Pilate by the chief priests 
and rulers, to prevent the possibility of friendly hands, in the dark, 
stealing the body of Christ. They were afraid, if the disciples 
effected this, they might try to make the people believe that their 
Master had actually come to life again, as He had predicted. 

You will remember that Jesus, more than once, told His Apostles 
about His rising from the dead the third day : specially in the 
course of that memorable journey when, for the last time, they 
were on their way to Jerusalem. 

Nor was it to His own immediate followers alone He had 
spoken of that event. When the Scribes and Pharisees came, 
asking Him to give them " a sign," He replied that " no sign 
would be given to them but that of the prophet Jonas " — " For 
as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's helly, so 
shall the Son of Man he three days and three nights in the heart of 
the earth." 

The Pharisees remembered these words well, and were now 
uneasy about them. Hence all the pains and precautions they 
take to make the sepulchre sure. 

2 B 



386 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

The guard of soldiers, along -with the priestly enemies of Jesus, 
put a seal upon the stone which covered the mouth of the tomb. 
They probably attached to both tomb and stone a strip of parch- 
ment or leather, and fastened it to either end with a seal. This 
seal, I may add, was generally not of wax, but of baked clay ; 
and after it was affixed it would be quite impossible for any one 
either to enter the sepulchre or to go out of it, unless the stone 
were violently displaced. 

With this sealed stone, and these watchful sentinels, then, at 
the grave's mouth, the enemies of Jesus can keep their minds at 
rest. The seal could not be tampered with ; and it would be 
certain death to any Eoman soldier to sleep at His post. 

We must not suppose that all the interest about that tomb 
was confined to a handful of disciples and friends. The name of 
Jesus must have been on many thousand lips that Sabbath in 
Jerusalem. He was well known now through all the land. 
Some believed Him to be a Teacher sent from God ; others, a 
Prophet ; others hailed Him as " Son of David," and Heir to the 
throne of Israel ; others believed that He who could still the sea, 
and cure the sick, and cleanse the leper, and raise the dead, must 
be nothing short of Divine. Very many more than all of these, 
knew Him, whether He were man or God, to be good, and holy, 
and loving, and tender-hearted. Could they fail to be indignant 
at the shameful fate to which He had been subjected yesterday 
and the day before ? His seizure by soldiers at night ; His three- 
fold trial, with all its wrongs ; first His fainting under the beam 
of the cross, and then His being nailed to it in anguish ? Could 
they fail to have heard of the rocks being rent, or to have seen 
the darkening of the sun ? These things were not done in a 
corner. 

Yes, we may be sure that for the dead Saviour there was many 
a pitying, sympathising thought among the Paschal crowds that 
memorable Sabbath. 



MIDNIGHT, 387 



LXXI. 

%\% S^omb is fountf rmptg 65 ttje flolg SEomen, antr 
bisitcD &13 ^eter anti Soljn. 

It is not yet the dawn of the third morning. The stars are still 
shining. I daresay the soldiers, chilled and weary with their 
long night-watch, are longing for daylight. 

Something suddenly takes place. These sentinels — yes, the 
brave Eoman soldiers — are seen rushing into the city ! Men 
that never turned their back on any foe in the field of battle are 
frightened now ? 

What has caused this fear ? 

They have felt another earthquake similar to that which 
occurred two days before. As the ground shook on which they 
were keeping watch, the large stone at the mouth of the tomb of 
Jesus snapped the seals with which it had been bound. An 
angel in snow-white raiment, and whose face was bright as tlie 
lightning, rolls it back from the entrance, and seats himself upon 
it. 

The heathen soldiers, in superstitious terror, fall in a faint 
to the earth. They become " as dead men," when they see this 
glorious being in " armour of light" seaj;ed on that slab of rock. So 
soon as their senses recover, they hurry away, as I have just told 
you, in the dark, to give the alarm. 

But daybreak is now drawing nigh. There is a faint streak 
of light in the Eastern sky : the top of the Mount of Olives is 
just tipped, and no more, by the first rays of the rising sun. In 
this grey of morning-dawn, when the birds had hardly wakened 
up to their early song ; when the dew was lying thick on the 
grass of the garden, and diamond-drops were hanging on every 
bush and tree, three figures are seen approaching with timid yet 



3SS BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

eager steps. They are carrying in their hands small jars or 
caskets ; also some rolls of linen cloth. 

They are the women of Galilee, who had been last at their 
dear Lord's cross ; they are now first and earliest at His tomb. 

They had been waiting anxiously for the dawn of the morn after 
the Sabbath, that they might come to complete what had been 
done in haste two nights before — anointing the body of Jesus. 
In one sense there was no need of any more embalming, after the 
costly offering of Joseph and Nicodemus. But " many waters 
cannot quench love." These devoted female disciples wished to 
show that theirs was no common affection ; and this was all they 
could do to testify how deeply they mourned their loss. They 
have brought with them the ointments which they had prepared 
in the failing light of Friday. 

It is evident that they had no dream of ever seeing their 
Beloved Master alive again. 

The names of these pious women are Salome, the mother of 
the Apostle John, and, perhaps, Joanna ; Mary Cleophas and 
Mary Magdalene. The mother of Jesus was not among them. 
We may weU suppose she was too weary and overcome with 
sorrow, to be able for this new effort of strength. It was to 
them a holy, but a most mournful errand : — I daresay their sleep- 
less eyes were dim and red with weeping. If they were never to 
see Jesus in life, they had come to take a last view of the face 
that had looked so often and so tenderly upon them ; and to lay 
their ointments on the torn but sacred brow. Then, after swath- 
ing the body, they would return home to feel more than ever 
their loneliness and desolation. 

They are conversing with one another as they enter the 
garden gate and draw near to the sepulchre. Although there are 
four of them, they begin to remember that they have not the 
strength of men. They begin to think of the difficulty of getting 
the huge stone removed which they had seen on the Friday night 
rolled against the door. They do not appear to have known 
anything about the guard of soldiers which had been placed there 
])y Pilate. 



MIDNIGHT. 389 



But what is this ? Dim dawn of morning though it be, their 
eyes cannot deceive them. The work is already done which they 
had desired. The stone is abeady rolled aside. The sepulchre 
is open ! 

Mary Magdalene is overcome with fright. She thinks at once 
of the tomb having been entered and pillaged, and of the sacred 
body having, perhaps, been hurried away to the common grave of 
criminals. She rushes at once back to the city. On finding 
Peter and John, she tells them what her eyes have seen — " They 
have taken away" she says, " the Lord out of the sepulchre, and we 
know not where they have laid Kim." 

She feels her weakness as a woman to do anything to recover 
the stolen body ; but, with their ready help, it may not be too 
late to find out the robber-band who have committed the daring 
deed. 

Meanwhile the other women, whom Mary had left in the 
garden, are braver than the soldiers. They go forward with 
anxious beating hearts to the open tomb. 

They look in. It is not in one sense empty. There is some 
one there. But it is not the voice they are wishful to hear 
which greets them. It is that of an angel. He looks like a 
young man, and is clothed in a long robe of white — the emblem 
of gladness. 

He quiets their minds. He uses the very word which was 
wont to be so often on the lips of their loving Master — " Feae 
NOT;" adding, "for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. 
He is not here ; He is risen, as He said. Come, see the place where 
the Lord lay ! " Then he farther bids them go as fast as they 
can, and not only tell the joyful news to the disciples, but also 
that, as a good and kind Shepherd, Jesus is to "go before them 
into Galilee " (the pleasant and much-loved Lake-side again), 
where He will once more meet them. 

There is one name in the angel's message which surely spea]s:s 
very lovingly of the unchanged heart of the Master. He sends 
that message to all the disciples, but there is only one He speci' 



390 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

ally singles out among them. Unless you had previously known 
the selection, would you not have been disposed to say, ' Surely 
it must be John ; — John His best beloved friend ; — John who 
has had the privilege of being intrusted with the most hallowed 
of charges ! ' 

But it is not so. Of all the scattered sheep of the fold, it is 
to the truant wanderer a message of forgiveness is sent : — " Go 
and tell Peter ! " 

The three females, whom the angel addressed, sped back as 
he had bidden them to the city. They are full of joy, as well as 
awe, and are in such breathless haste that they speak to no one 
they meet. 

Can we wonder that when they enter the upper room, the/ 
gathered disciples refuse to credit so strange, so wondrous a story ? 
That the poor trembling sheep, scattered in " the dark and cloudy 
day," would not believe that the Shejiherd they had seen torn by 
ravening wolves had come to life again ! It seemed like a 
foolish and idle tale. 

Our attention is next directed to two men hastening in the 
direction of Joseph's garden. One is in front of the other ; for 
he is younger and fleeter of foot. I think I need not ask you 
who these are. 

No sooner had Mary Magdalene found Peter and John, than 
they started off in haste to know for themselves what had taken 
place. 

John reaches the tomb first. He pauses at the entrance, and 
seems afraid to do more than look in. He gazes with mingled 
wonder and alarm. 

But the other, the brave and now penitent Peter, cannot be 
content with resting outside. As a Jew, he will become unclean 
by touchmg the place where the dead has been laid. But what 
is that to him ? He at once enters, — John following. And 
what do they see ? 

They observe, first, that the body of their buried Master is 



MIDNIGHT. 391 



evidently not there : tlie tomb is empty. Then the same thought 
naturally occurs to them as it did to Mary; robbers must have 
entered it at night and stolen Him away ; perhaps for the sake of 
getting possession of Joseph's costly myrrh and aloes. 

But, on looking round, this supposition cannot be correct. 
Robbers would never have taken the pains to fold up so carefully 
the grave-clothes. The swathing-bands were in one part of the 
cavity: — the linen napkin that had been bound around His 
thorn-crowned head was carefully folded up and laid by itself 
in another part. There was no sign of haste or confusion, which 
would have been the case had thieves forced their way in and 
made off with the body. 

The Beloved Apostle was the first of the two to entertain the 
thought of Jesus having indeed Himself risen. " He, saw and 
heheved" 

" And the disciples," we read, " went away again to their own 
home." 

I have often thought of that morning walk of these two chief 
friends ; — their strange bewildering joy ! ' He must be alive ! ' 
* Shall we indeed see Him. then once more ? ' ' He told us that 
we would.' ' The " little while and ye shall not see Me," is past ; 
and did He not add, " a little while and ye shall see Me ? " 
That little while is surely come now ! Oh, that we only knew 
where we could find Him ! Oh, that we could see Him coming 
to us as He did of old on the stormy Lake, and hear the sweet 
accents of His own voice — " Fear not, it is I, be not afraid ! " ' 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 

" WEEPING MAY ENDURE FOR A NIGHT, BUT JOY COMETH IN THE 
MORNING." — Ps. XXX. 5. 

" AND HE SHALL BE AS THE LIGHT OF THE MORNING WHEN THE SUN 
RISETH, EVEN A MORNING WITHOUT CLOUDS." — 2 SaM. XXIII. 4. 

" THE LIGHT OF THE SUN SHALL BE SEVENFOLD, AS THE LIGHT OF SEVEN 
DAYS, IN THE DAY THAT THE LORD BINDETH UP THE BREACH OF 
HIS PEOPLE, AND HEALETH THE SmOKE OF THEIR WOUND." — 
Is. XXX. 26. 

" AND VERY EARLY IN THE MORNING, THE FIRST DAY OF THE WEEK, 
THEY CAME UNTO THE SEPULCHRE AT THE RISING OF THE SUN. AND 
THEY SAID AMONG THEMSELVES, WHO SHALL ROLL US AWAY THE 
STONE FROM THE DOOR OF THE SEPULCHRE? AND WHEN THEY 
LOOKED, THEY SAW THAT THE STONE WAS ROLLED AWAY ; FOR IT 
WAS VERY GREAT," — MARK XVI. 2-4. 

"fear not ye: for I know that ye seek JESUS, WHICH WAS CRUCI- 
FIED. HE IS not here : FOR HE IS RISEN, AS HE SAID. COME, SEE 
THE PLACE WHERE THE LORD LAY." — MaTT. XXVIII. 5, 6. 

•• WHO HATH ABOLISHED DEATH, AND HATH BROUGHT LIFE ANP 
IMMORTALITY TO LIGHT."— 2 TiM. I. lO. 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 395 



LXXII. 

He repeals f^imsclf to Jlarg iHagtialette, anU to Peter. 

Once more we may return to the words — " Watchman ! what of 
THE NIGHT ? Watchman ! what of the night ? " 

" The Watchman said, the mokning cometh ! " 

Oh happy day for a benighted world ! The Bkighter than the 
brightest earthly sun has come forth from His chamber of death, 
rejoicing more than ever " as a giant to run his course." He 
has " turned the shadow of death into the morning." " The 
darkness is past and the true LIGHT now shineth ! " 

In the golden radiance of the first Easter, let us go in thought 
and contemplate — The Great Suneise ! 

Mary Magdalene, the most faithful and devoted of the female 
followers of Jesus, has returned to the tomb after all the others 
have left. 

It was surely a brave thing for her to do : to go back by her- 
self to that garden with its lonely grave. But she cannot bear 
to be away. Her tear-dimmed eyes tell how deeply concerned 
she is. " Mary stood without, at the sepulchre, weeping." 

Gaining courage, she stoops down, and looks in to the hollow 
cavern. If He be indeed taken away, — if rude hands have stolen 
the dear remains, she will at least be permitted the mournful 
satisfaction of beholding the spot which so lately contained what 
she loved most in the world. She wiU see the stony pillow 
whereon lay the pale face she expected to have bathed with her 
tears ! 

All is stillness. 

The angel forms, I have already spoken of, had not been seen 
by Peter and John. But they appear again to Mary. There are 



396 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

two of them. They are clothed in white. One is seated where 
the head of Jesus had rested, and the other at His feet, as if still 
keeping watch over the Lord of men and angels. The Eoman 
soldiers were terrified at the vision of one, angel : — Mary is not 
afraid at the sight of these two. Sorrow will not permit fear to 
get the better of her. She seems scarcely conscious of their 
presence. Her mmd was quite taken up with the one thought — 
" Where her Blessed Lord could be." 

They speak to her. They say, in compassion for her great 
grief — " Why weepest thou ? " 

She replies in the very same words she spake to Peter and 
John — " They have taken away my Master out of His grave. 
Oh ! tell me where they have laid Him ? " 

Angels could not comfort her — Angels could not heal her 
wounded spirit. But there was One near at hand who 

COULD ! 

At that moment Mary seems to feel as if a third person were 
nigh. On hearing a footfall, she turns round and sees a solitary 
Figure standing close by the tomb. 

HaK-blinded by her weeping, she can think only of Joseph's 
gardener come to begin his morning's work. 

She speaks to the Stranger of the one anxiety that was 
burdening her heart. S^e must know surely something about that 
tomb being empty, and of its having become no longer the grave 
of her Lord but the haunt of angels ! 

He, too, gently asks the cause of her tears. 

" If thou have home Him hence," she replies, " tell me where thou 
hast laid Him, that I may take Him away." Yes, her love was so 
great, she feels that she would have power for anything ; that 
even a woman's arm would be strong enough to bear the dead 
body. 

She little knew to whom she was speaking. Her tears were 
like a veil that hid the reality from her sight. 

One word, spoken by the supposed gardener, reveals the well- 
known Voice and Presence ! 



THE GREA T SUNRISE. 397 

" Weeper ! to thee how bright a morn was given. 
After thy long, long vigil of despair ; 
When that high Voice which burial rocks had riven, 
Thrilled with immortal tones the silent air. 
Never did trumpet royal blast declare 
Such tale of victory to a breathless crowd, 
As the deep sweetness of one word could bear — 
Mary ! " 

She at once replies in an ecstasy of joy, 

Eabboni ! 

Bah was the Chaldean word for ' great.' Eabhi was a strongei 
form of the same word, ' greater,' ' dearer.' But Eabboni was the 
intensest form of all. It expressed strong devotion and love. It 
was the name which naturally gushed from Mary's trembling 
lips — " My great One ; — mij greatest ; — my lest ; — my fondest 
Master I " 

It was the voice of her Beloved ! Tte same voice that first 
spoke peace to her troubled soul, and cast out the seven devils that 
had long ruled her wretched body. He now "calleth His own sheep 
by name, and leadeth her out." He is fulfilling His own sweet 
promise, contained in the prophecy about the smitten Shepherd and 
the scattered sheep — " / will turn mine hand upon the little ones." 

And how kind the manner in which He reveals Himself to her ! 
Not in dazzling, terrifying glory, as the Great Conqueror of death ; 
but as " that same Jesus" — the Brother-man — the old Friend of 
the Galilean shores : — so humble in appearance that she mistakes 
Him for the servant or keeper of the garden ! 

But could she possibly after all be deceived? Might it not be a 
mere vision in her fevered brain, — not a reality ? She will at all 
events make sure of this. 

She rushed forward ; — putting forth her hand to touch Him. 
She will clasp in adoring reverence the feet she had so often 
followed by the Lake-side, and from her humble home at 
Magdala, but which she had last seen pierced on the cross. 

With calm, divine majesty, Jesus tells her not to touch Him ! 



398 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

The body she gazed upon was the same as ever ; and yet it was 
not the same. It was a spiritual body ;^glorified by His victory 
over death. " Touch Me, not" He says. 

At the same time He commands her to " go to His Brethren" 
and to tell them not only of His having risen from the tomb, but 
that He is soon to ascend to Heaven, to " His Father and 
their Father, to His God and their God." 

How beautiful is the name Jesus here gives to His disciples ! 
He had just risen victorious over the grave. No earthly conqueror 
had ever gained such a triumph as this. But to show that His 
love and affection are unchanged, — that He is the meek and 
lowly Saviour still, — He calls them not even ' disciples,' — not 
even ' friends,' — but ' Irethren ' : — " My brethren." 

Mary is not slow to do what her blessed Master had told her. 
She, too, hastens to the city with the joyous tidings, " / have seen 
the Lord ! " 

What a privilege was hers ! to be the first preacher of that 
gladdest truth a lost world has heard, " The Lokd is kisen 
INDEED ! " God rewarded her watchful love. She had " waited 
on Him and been of good courage," and He had " strengthened 
her heart." 

The other women, shortly after this interview with Mary 
Magdalene, were similarly honoured. Jesus met them, and said, 
" All hail ! " 

What a glad morning that must have been to all these varied 
friends and disciples ! Yes, and, I repeat, for the Church of 
Christ to the latest ages of time ! That divine " SuN," who had 
so lately gone down in the darkness of the tomb, has risen never 
again to set ! 

" Oh ! Day of days ! Shall hearts set free 
No minstrel rapture find for Thee 1 
Thou art the Sun of other days, 
They shine by giving back Thy rays." 

Need I say, there surely must have been one among the number, 
that Eesurrection day, happier than all the rest ? It was the lovin(T 



THE GREA T SUNRISE. 



399 



mother of Jesus. What must have been John's joy, to whom she 
had been so affectionately committed from the cross, when he 
reached his own house that early morning, and brought her the 
thrice glad news — " Your Beloved Son was dead and is alive 
again ! " Salome, John's own mother, was one of the three 
women who had gone early to the sepulchre. She would also 
confirm the wondrous tidings which her son had brought. 
Weeping had endured for the past two nights, but joy came in 
the morning. The Psalmist's words would have a new meaning 
to all of them on this great Christian Sunday ; — " This is the day 
which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and he glad in it." 

Some time during these memorable hours, but we are not told 
when or where, Jesus met the Apostle Peter. How kind, thus so 
soon to speak with the guilty one who had so basely denied His 
Master, and to assure him that his risen Lord had been "patient 
with him, and forgiven him all ! " 

What, it may occur to you to ask, are the chief priests and 
rulers doing now ? Has the resurrection of Christ convinced 
them, too, of their guilt and crime ? Do they also come, and, 
falling at His feet, " own Him as the divine Son of God ? " 

No : they try basely to bribe these Ptoman soldiers, just as 
they had done Judas. They gave them money to circulate the 
shameful falsehood — that they had slept on guard; and that the 
disciples of the buried Jesus of Nazareth had really come by nigkt 
and stolen His dead body I 



BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 



LXXIII. 

W joins tlje tbjo JBisctplcs on tfte hian to lEmmatts, 

Towards the afternoon of that same eventful day, two men are 
seen passing out of the Joppa gate on the west side of Jerusalem. 

Probably they have just been with the company of Apostles 
and other friends gathered in the upper room, and are now re- 
turning at the close of the Passover feast, to their own house in 
the country. 

We see at once, as they are walking slowly along, engaged in 
earnest talk with one another, that they are dejected and sad. 
Their sadness would be in striking contrast with the mirth and 
joy of others. They would likely be overtaken by not a few 
who had been, that morning, in what was called the procession of 
the " Biccurim" at the gathering of the first-fruits in the valley of 
Eephaim; — Paschal groups, carrying their osier baskets, fuU of 
the gladness of that glad season, " joying according to the joy in 
harvest." But there is no brightness in the faces of the two 
travellers. 

I need hardly ask you what they are talking about, and what 
is the cause of their heavy sorrow ? 

There was just one theme — one thought — in the hearts and 
lips of the friends of Jesus this day. " They talked together of all 
these things which had happened." 

Can we wonder at their dejection ? If any one of us had a 
dear friend, the news of whose death we had just heard, how 
grieved we should be ! Even if that friend had loving relatives 
gathered round his bed to smooth his dying pillow, still we should 
feel sad. But if that same friend had been made to suffer cruel 
pain and torture, how deep and intense our heart-sorrow would 
be! 

It was thus with these two wayfarers that afternoon. The 



2HE GREAT SUNRISE. 401 

kindest Friend they ever had, had been seized by murderers, and 
nailed to the cross. They may probably have watched the 
dreadful scene with their own eyes : they may have gazed for 
hours on that pale suffering face on Calvary, and felt how power- 
less they were to render any relief. The whole was fresh on 
their minds and memories, for only two nights had since passed. 
What else could they do, but deeply mourn ? 

While they are proceeding on their journey, a Stranger joins 
them, and takes part in the conversation. He asks them what 
they are musing upon, and why they look so sorrowful during the 
days of a feast at which all were wont to be joyful ? 

He inquires of them so kindly, that they tell Him frankly 
about the burden of woe pressing on their hearts. 

They tell Him in simple language the entire story of the 
shameful death and crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth. They add, 
what to them, perhaps, was the saddest of all, that they had 
hoped at one time this crucified Man of Calvary was the Messiah 
Eedeemer, they had so often and so earnestly longed for ; who 
was to deliver the nation of Israel and reign as King in Zion. 

Their hopes had vanished with His death. They wonder now 
how they could have allowed themselves to be deceived as they 
had been. And yet, they had heard a strange story too about His 
empty tomb. Some female acquaintances of theirs had gone that 
morning early to embalm His body. They not only found His 
sepulchre deserted, but angels were within it, who told them, 
most astonishing of all, that Jesus was alive. 

The Stranger, in reply, talks to them at great length. In doing 
so, He purposely veiled their sight, that they might not at first 
know Him. He gently rebuked them for then' want of belief, 
and for their slowness of heart. He showed them out of the 
writings of their own prophets, beginning with Moses, that it was 
necessary for the promised Christ (in order to redeem the world) 
to submit to death, just as Jesus had done. 

Though Cleopas and his feUow-villager were doubtless weU 
acquainted with the Old Testament Scriptures, the unknown 
Wayfarer gave what was to them quite a new explanation of text 



402 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

after text, and passage after passage, with reference to the suffer- 
ings and glory of Messiah. He specially showed how it was 
necessary that His glory should be preceded by suffering. 
" Why," He seems to say to them, " have you such thoughts in 
your hearts, because Jesus of Nazareth was subjected to anguish 
and humiliation ? Did you expect that He would come as a 
mighty warrior with helmet and sword, shield and banner ? or 
did you expect Him to appear as a king with a sceptre in His 
hand and a crown on His head, and the palace of Zion for a 
home ? If you did, you have mis-read your own prophets. They 
told you beforehand that He was to have none of these things, 
but the very reverse. They told you, that in order to save your 
souls. He was to come, a Man of sorrows — a slain Lamb — a 
smitten Shepherd : — to be wounded — bruised — chastised ; — to 
have stripes laid upon Him — and finally to die and be laid in 
the grave. Instead of surrendering aU hope, and giving way to 
sadness and despondency because of His cross and suffermgs ; 
that lowly and despised One is the very Messiah you ought to 
have expected," — " Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, 
and to enter into His glory ? And beginning at Moses and all the 
prophets, He expounded unto them in all the Scrip)tures the thi7igs 
concerning Himself" (Luke xxiv, 26, 27), 

I do not suppose these disciples had so much as a thought 
about the road they were travelling, and the beauties of nature all 
around them, even though it was the bright season of the I'ales- 
tine year : — that same season which has now often been referred 
to in the preceding pages, when the Spring flowers were at their 
best and loveliest. Some of the trees were in fuU leaf, — others, 
like the hawthorn, were loaded with blossom and fragrance; 
the valleys were covered with corn ; every grove was filled with 
song, from the trill of the finch to the sweet notes of the cuckoo. 
They had far different themes, however, to engross their attention 
than budding vines and fig-trees, or the little hills rejoicing on 
every side. Mile after mile is passed, new valleys open upon 
them, sprinkled with blue flax and campanula, crimson anemones 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 403 

and white daisies. But they walk with their eyes, now bent on 
the ground, now turned to the earnest Stranger. Who can He 
possibly be ? They have just come, as I have supposed, from 
the gathering in the upper room. But all that the desponding 
disciples there said, had tended rather to chill their hearts ; 
— while this fellow-Traveller has cheered, comforted, refreshed 
them. From no lips, save those of One, had they ever heard 
such sweet and precious words. It was that One who was now 
talking with them, though they knew it not ! 

And now they have reached the village to which they are 
going. It was called Emmaus — a word which is supposed to 
mean " a warm bath useful for heahng." 

If you ask me ' where Emmaus was ? ' I can only reply that 
its situation has hitherto been, and still is, a matter of great 
uncertainty. The party of able men who are now exploring 
Palestine, have lately brought to light the most probable site yet 
suggested, in a vaUey eight miles south-west of Jerusalem. If 
this turns out to be the right position, the road these two disciples 
now pursued would be out by the Bethlehem Gate, passing the 
very walls within which their Lord was born, and along the 
Eoman highway, which then skirted the famous pools of 
Solomon. The enormous roots of oak-trees discovered, would 
seem to indicate that the now comparatively barren hills around 
were then clothed with timber. After the Stranger joined them, 
the mouth of a valley would be passed, likely then, as it is described 
now, "well watered and filled with lovely shady gardens of 
orange and lemon." By-and-by they would come to a wall of 
limestone where there is a clear spring ; nigh to which, at the 
present day, are the ruins of a village called Khamesa. 

This may or may not be the true site of Emmaus. But at all 
events Cleopas and his friend pause at a humble door in some 
such retired village, bearing the latter name. 

It is evening Light, with the beautiful sunset-glow on the hill- 
tops aroimd. 

The Stranger seems about to part with them, and to make as if 
He would go on farther. They are grieved to lose His company ; 



His words had greatly comforted their hearts, and revived their 
dying hopes. 

They said to Him — "- Oh do not leave us ! Do not go away ! 
Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent." 

The unknown Friend obeys their request, and enters the house 
with them. They are happy He has done so ; for it wouM seem 
to indicate His purpose to tarry with them till the morning ; and 
thus they would be enabled to prolong their converse together till 
midnight, on these holy themes which had made their walk of 
eight miles appear so short. 

The table is spread for refreshment, or perhaps for the usual 
evening meal ; and as was the wont among the Jews, they gave 
the Stranger the place of honour. 

There was some Paschal unleavened bread on the board. In 
the course of the simple repast. He took the bread in His hands, 
and, before they began to eat. He blessed it, and divided it in two 
pieces, and gave to each of His fellow-travellers a piece. 

In a moment they perceived who He was. Strange they had 
been so long in making the discovery ! But something about 
Him ; — perhaps the tones of His voice ; — perhaps the wound- 
marks on His hands as He breaks the bread ; — perhaps some 
radiant light on His sun-like countenance — reveal that it was 
none other than Jesus Himself ! 

Yes — all that the women had told them is true, — more than 
true; for they only could inform them that the sepulchre was 
empty ; but Cleopas and his companion have seen the risen One, 
and conversed with Him. 

They have scarce had time, however, to recover from their 
wonder and joy when He has left them. The couch on which He 
had blessed the bread is empty. He has vanished out of their 
sight ! 

This only was a fresh evidence and assurance as to who their 
mysterious Guest was. They looked at one another and said — 
" Did not our heart hum within us while He talked luith us by the 
way, and while He opened to us the Scriptures ? " 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 405 

LXXIV. 

f|£ appears iSmz to tijose satbereU in tlje llpper 3^oom* 

What do these two disciples do ? 

They had just had a journey of seven or eight miles. They 
must have been tired and weary, not only with the walk, but 
with their longer hours of grief and sorrow. They doubtless had 
intended to spend the night at Emmaus. But they are so glad at 
heart, they cannot rest until they have gone back all the long 
distance to Jerusalem after sunset, that they may confirm the 
news to the anxious friends of Jesus. 

You can imagine that if they had travelled slowly out to their 
village- home, how speedily they would hurry over hill and dale in 
returning, till they reached the Joppa Gate again. The same road 
they had pursued, had, in long years gone by, been often traversed 
by the most splendid of all the Kings of Judah. Black blocks of 
basalt are still there, over which his chariot, with magnificent 
white horses, was driven almost daily to his favourite gardens at 
Urtas. It had been trodden that day by One who, though 
in lowly garb and surrounded with no royal retinue, was really 
and truly ' Brighter ' and more illustrious than even " Solomon 
in all his glory ! " 

It was now late in the evening. The Paschal crowd the 
travellers had met in the afternoon were aU dispersed : the road 
was quiet and deserted. 

On reaching the upper room the door was locked ; for the timid 
disciples were afraid of what the Jews might do. But it would 
be quickly opened when Cleopas and his companion made known 
who they were, and what their errand was. 

You can picture the scene which followed. ISTot only were the 
Apostles present, but we are told also a number of other 



4o6 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

disciples — " they that were with them." We can only guess who 
these others might he. Douhtless there were some men and 
women from the Lake-side ; — perhaps the family of Bethany — 
the risen Lazarus and his two sisters. Who knows but Zaccheus 
and Bartimeus, from Jericho, may have been drawn thus far from 
their own homes by gratitude and pity. It may be also, 
Nicodemus, and Joseph of Arimathea, who had both been 
getting braver every hour. And if her grief allowed her, might 
not John have brought thither his most sacred charge ? Might 
not the mother of Jesus have been there to listen in a gladder 
form to His own words from the cross, " Woman, heliold thy Son ! " 
Would she not perchance remember how long, long ago (no less 
than twenty-one years since), she had "for three days sought Him 
sorrowing ; " — three days in great trouble and torture of mind, 
thinking she would never see Him again ; when lo ! on the third 
day, she and Joseph were gladdened by finding Him alive ; — 
hearing His voice in one of the Temple courts, telling that He 
was about His " Father's business." Now this early picture and 
experience is repeated. Three days of sadness and gloom are 
turned, like the other, into wondrous joy. It is the Father's 
business which has again hidden Him from her sight for three 
days in the grave. But the third day has now come. That 
business is completed. He could say, " / have glorified Thee on 
the earth ; I have finished the work Thou gavest me to do." 

When the two men first enter the little assembly, they find 
that many present are in fear and doubt and wonder; knowing 
not what to think or believe amid the varied, strange, conflicting 
reports. 

With glad hearts they must listen now to the news, " We have 
seen the Lord ! We have spoken to Him. He appeared to us as 
a traveller, and we have walked with Him along a country road. 
We have sat at meat with Him in our own village, and received 
bread broken by His own blessed hands ! " 

If any, notwithstanding what they have just heard, still 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 407 

continue to doubt : — these doubts will be immediately set at rest. 
For, all at once, Jesus Himself — the Eisen One — the Lamb of 
God so lately sacrificed — appears to them ! The door of the 
chamber where they were assembled was fastened ; but his 
glorified body could not be shut out by any locks or bolts. With 
no sign or sound ; — no apparently undoing of latch or opening of 
door, He stands in the midst of the little gathering, and utters 
His old, well-known word, " Feace he unto you." It must have 
recalled, at least to the ten Apostles, the special blessing which, 
four days previously, He had given them at the last Supper. That 
" PEACE " had since then been finally secured — "peace through the 
Mood of His cross." 

When Jesus thus suddenly presented Himself they were at 
first fearful. They thought he was a spirit,- — ^just as some of 
them had done on the midnight waves of the Lake a year 
before. 

But He calmed their fears — " Why," said He, " are ye troubled, 
and why do thoughts arise in your hearts ? " He showed them His 
wounded hands and feet, still fresh with the prints of the nails. 
He showed the open spear- wound in His side. He tells them to 
touch Him, in order to satisfy themselves that He was possessed 
of a real body of flesh and bones, though a glorified one : 
" Behold 3fy hands and My feet" He says, " that it is I Myself." 
For the same purpose He eats a piece of broiled fish and some 
honeycomb before them ; and then finishes some earnest words 
by giving the twofold message they were to deliver : — " that 
repentance and remission of sins should he preached in His 
name among all nations." That great mission was to " begin at 
Jerusalem." They were to make the first offer of His pardon and 
salvation to the people of the very city that had slain Him! 

He repeats His blessing, "Peace he unto you" and then breathed 
on them, and said — " Beceive ye the Holy Ghost." Having done all 
this, He seems to have suddenly vanished out of sight again, just 
as He had entered the room. 

Oh what a happy meeting ! Hesitation and unbelief have now 
given way to a gush of holy joy and full faith. All questionings 



4o8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

and doubts are at an end. They could say, as St. Paul said soon 
after, " It is Christ that died, yea rather that is risen again." 
Then truly were the disciples " glad when they saw the Lord." 
Do you not think that through their tears they would sing Psalms 
of praise, — praise to the great and gracious Father in heaven, who 
had fulfilled His own promise, spoken in one of these Psalms 
regarding His Son, that He would not " leave His soul in hell, 
nor suffer His Holy One to see corruption " ? The peace which for 
days had fled from their hearts, and, I may add, the rest needed 
for their weary bodies, would now return. They could have had 
little repose since that terrible Thursday evening. — But He, whose 
voice and presence has allayed their misgivings, would anew give 
to " His beloved, sleep." Surely even Mary 'could that night lay 
down her head tranquilly on her pillow. She might sing her old 
song once more, with a new and more glorious meaning — " My 
soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God, my 
Saviour ! " 

Thomas, one of the disciples, was not present along with the 
others. He would not credit the news that Jesus was risen. 
On the contrary, he had given up all hope, and had remained for 
seven days in this unhappy state of mind — his brother Apostles 
doing their best, in vain, to convince him. He sadly and gloomily 
said to them, " Except I shall see in His hands the print of the 
nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my 
hand into His side, I will not believe" (John xx. 25). 

The following Sunday evening, Christ again suddenly appeared 
to the disciples, and Thomas was of the number. The same kind 
words were repeated by Divine lips as on the evening of the 
Eesurrection. 

Jesus knew that Thomas was upright, honest, and brave. Was 
it not this disciple who, devoted to His Master, had said once, when 
others were trembling and fearful, " Zet us also go, that we may dit 
with Him" The Eisen One asks him to reach forth his finger, 
and touch the wounds in His hands and side. Thomas at once 
surrenders his unbelieving thoughts. He did not even wait to 



touch the body of Jesus — his old Master's presence and voice 
were enough : he exclaimed, " My Lord, and my God ! " 

Jesus wished, by the offer He made of touching Him, to con- 
vince the doubting Apostle, and any others who might share his 
misgivings, of the reality of His human nature — that He had risen 
with an actual human body. Thomas not only now believes 
this, but, in doing so, he avows his belief in the still higher truth 
of the Saviour's Deity. He calls Him, in devout reverence, not 
only " My Master," but " my God." For you must observe that 
his exclamation is not the mere cry of wonder and astonishment. 
It was a confession of his faith. The words were, in his lips, 
the same as those of the "Apostles' Creed " are in our own — " 1 
believe . . . in Jesus Christ, Sis only Son, our Lord." 

In after years, not one of the disciples were said to be more 
faithful than Thomas. Ever after that hour of the second Sun- 
day evening, he became " strong in faith, giving glory to God." 
There is a tradition of his having gone to some countries far east 
of Palestine, and of his suffering mart3rrdom for the sake of Jesus 
either in India or Persia. 

Christ, on the present occasion, very gently rebuked him. But 
His rebuke contains for us, and for all who love the Saviour's 
name, one of the most precious utterances that ever came out of 
His mouth : " Thomas, hecause tJiou hast seen Me, thou hast believed, 

BLESSED AEE THEY THAT HAVE NOT SEEN, AND YET HAVE BELIEVED ! " 

The bustle of the Passover Feast was now over. The Apostles 
and friends of Jesus soon returned to their distant homes. They 
must have carried with them there a wondrous tale of love and 
suffering and triumph ! 

The crowds of modern pilgrims to the Holy Sepulchre, prize, 
above all, the sight of the miraculous flame which superstition 
kindles every Easter day on the Saviour's tomb. The tapers they 
light with this " holy fire " are speedily extinguished, in order that 
they may retain them as precious relics. They are sacredly pre- 
served on their persons or in their dwellings till their last hour 
arrives. Then they are kindled afresh, and burned beside their 



4IO BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

death-pillow, irradiating, as they suppose, the dark journey when 
they pass through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 

The disciples had now, in a nobler and better sense, carried 
away with them from their Lord's tomb " the holy flame." The 
old prophetic voice had been joyously fulfilled — " Arise, shine, for 
thy Light has come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee ! " 
and with a different meaning from that which the same prophet's 
words, in another passage, convey — " The Light of Lsrael shall he 
for a fire, and His Holy One for a fame " (Is. x. 1 7). With the 
gladdening assurance that He who was to them ' Brighter than 
the Sun ' had dispelled all their doubts and darkness, they might 
well cheer their homeward way with the words of the HaUel, 
sung so lately in very different circumstances — • 

" God is the Lord, ivhich hath showed us Light : 
[or " kindled for us the flame."] 
Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar. 
Thou art my God, and I will praise Thee : 
Thou art my God, I will exalt Thee. 
give thanks unto the Lord; for He is good: 
For His mercy endureth for ever." 



LXXV. 

f^e !5!)ob3S fUttngrlf to ^10 i9ts:iples; on tfje iLafee=sf}orf. 

We need not wonder at the Apostles directing their footsteps to 
the Lake-side. For, you will remember, a message had been 
sent to them by their Divine Master, as well as by the angels 
who appeared in His empty tomb, that He was to "go lefore 
them into Galilee." 

On their return, they take up their old employment as fisher- 
men. They have now no longer a common purse, and they must 
toil lor their daily bread. 



They would be glad of the change from the awful and exciting 
scenes so lately witnessed in Jerusalem. It must have been a 
relief to be away from a city whose very gates and streets seemed 
stained with innocent blood — to find themselves by day treading 
once more the quiet pebbly beach, and at night, under the starry 
sky, watching the ripple of the familiar waves, or letting their 
nets down for a draught. 

Gennesaret must have been dearer to them than ever. Besides 
being their home, it was the place in all Palestine they connected 
most with their loving Lord. It was there He had summoned 
them first to leave all, and follow Him. Every hill, from Mount 
Hattin with its double top, to Mount Hermon with its crown of 
snow — every nook of the winding shore, from the palm-groves of 
Magdala to the grassy slopes of Bethsaida, recalled His name and 
presence. The flowers which bloomed on the wayside and on 
the mountain slopes, the very birds which sang and twittered 
among the branches, or winged their flight over the Lake, brought 
to mind His sacred words. Here is the spot where He wrought 
a mighty miracle. There is the field of corn which suggested the 
parable-story of the sower sowing the seed. Here are the silent 
hills, with their thorny glades, where He went to pray. There is 
the turn in the road or the street where He invited the weary and 
the heavy-laden to come and have rest. There, where their fish- 
ing-boat is just crossing. He came to them in the midst of the 
howling wind and storm, and said, " Fear not, it is I." 

We must not think that the Apostles, by taking thus to their 
craft and nets again, had their hopes clouded and enfeebled as to 
Jesus being the Messiah, or that they had abandoned thoughts of 
going as His missionaries to spread the good news. No ; they 
would only continue their toil till He met them, in accordance 
with His gracious promise, and until they received from His own 
lips further directions as to the future. 

One evening seven of them set out " a-fishing " on their inland 
sea : Peter and John, James, Thomas, Nathaniel, and two others 
whose names are not given — possibly Andrew and Philip. They 



412 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

seem to have taken their large fishing-boat, towing a small one 
behind. 

We can well imagine where their thoughts were, and what 
their converse was in these night-watches. " Shall we see Him 
soon ? or may some weeks probably still elapse ere we have the 
joy of welcoming Him ? and when He does appear to ns, where 
or what will be the place of our meeting ? Will it not likely 
occur in some quiet resort, where He may speak to us all alone ? 
Will He not possibly come, too, on the ' first day of the week,' 
as He did in the upper room in Jerusalem, and breathe upon 
us His blessing ? Or, as we saw Him glorified on Mount 
Hermon, is it improbable that it may be on the same beautiful 
hill, perhaps on the same spot, we shall see His glorified body 
once more, glowing with snow-white lustre, His face ' shining as 
THE Sun ? ' " 

They have not dreamt of the likelihood of His coming to them 
in their every-day ordinary work and toil. 

These seven fishermen had a disappointing night of it. They 
had let down their net during these long hours with no result. 
They had not so much as one fish in the hold of the boat. They 
are tired and sleepy and hungry. Doubtless, all they had gone 
through during the past weeks would make them feel more than 
usually fatigued and downcast. 

In the grey dawn of morning, when nature was still slumbering ; 
when no bird was on the wing, and no light in the hamlets ; 
when the dull mist was still hanging on the mountain tops ; they 
pull their boat towards the nearest shore. It was likely to a 
part not far from Bethsaida, having a rim of broad and pearly 
sand. 

There is only one solitary Figure standing on the beach. The 
Stranger can scarcely at first be discerned in the glimmering dusk. 
As they draw closer, there seems a fire of " charcoal " burning, 
aided, perhaps, with the leaves and driftwood strewn on the 
shingle. They would probably imagine that this was only some 
other fisherman like themselves, who had finished his night-work 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 413 

on the Lake, and was now in the act of preparing his breakfast. 
Or, as there was no boat apparently near, he may possibly be 
some stray traveller who has been benighted ; who, when he heard 
the near splash of oars, waits to obtain direction for his journey ; 
or, perhaps, after a long fast, expects, when the boat is moored, to 
share some of the spoil they have taken in the Lake. 

The way He speaks to the approaching boatmen seems to 
confirm their suspicion. After the manner which Eastern people 
have of addressing one another. He says — 

" Children, have ye any meat ? " " Have you caught any fish ? " 

They were likely still a good way out from land. But in the 
quiet morning air, His voice sounded clear and distinct. They 
answer "No." 

" Cast" He says, as if He had seen a shoal of fish going in 
that direction, " cast your net on the right side of your boat, and ye 
shall find" 

It may have seemed a useless thing to do : but they thought 
they might as well take the Stranger's advice, and attempt this 
last venture. On letting down their net, a great number of fishes 
are immediately enclosed. The net is so heavy "ih^j cannot pull 
it up again into the boat. 

All this was the work of a few moments. But even a few 
minutes in the East make a rapid change in the light. The sun 
had now topped the Gadara hills. The Eigure, up to this time 
dimly visible, is now plainly revealed. 

John's quick ear had been the first to catch the music of 
the Master's voice. 

" It is the lord! " says he to Peter, with trembling joy. He not 
only knew the voice, but, doubtless, he remembered another full 
net and " draught of fishes " two years and a half before. Some 
have supposed that he was first assured of the glad truth by 
observing a miraculous radiance around the face on which he 
gazed ; — something akin to the glorified aspect he had last 
witnessed in the upper room in Jerusalem ; something feebly 
resembling, what he afterwards, in far more dazzling vision, 
beheld in Patmos, "a Countenance like the sun shining in its 



414 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN, 

strength." As it is, however, expressly stated in the inspired 
narrative, that " Jesus stood on the shore, hid the disciples knew 
not that it was Jesus ; " is it not sufficient to imagine, that the 
light of early day falling direct on the Divine-human counten- 
ance, along with the tones of the voice, were made, without any 
siipernatural agency, the joint revealers of the glad surprise ? 
Nature's morning-lamp, lit in her own great Temple, disclosing 
to these early worshippers the Person and glory of her Great 
High Priest ! 

Peter had his loose fisher's coat thrown aside ; but in a 
moment he took it from the deck of the boat, and girt it about 
him. The strong man, with his brawny arms, is seen cleaving 
his way through the gentle swell of the wave towards the beach. 
He swam a hundred yards. There, wet and dripping as he was, 
he cast himself at Jesus' feet. The other six disciples land in 
the little boat, dragging behind them the net with its ample 
contents. The larger vessel could not be brought to shore, owing 
to the water being shallow. 

They have all now landed, and the captured fishes are pulled 
up the shelving bank. They are even counted, — i 5 3 of them. 
But though they were so many and so large in size, not a mesh 
of the net is broken. 

" Cojne to your morning meal" said the Eisen Eedeemer. 

They did not require to prepare on " the fire of coals " any of 
their own newly- caught fish. Some were there already, broiling 
on the hot embers along with cakes of bread. 

Do you ask where Jesus had got these things ? It seems 
enough to reply, that He, who on the banks of that lake could 
feed five thousand men on a few loaves and some small fishes, 
had only to speak the word, and land and sea would furnish the 
needful provision for such a repast. 

Oh how like the old loving ways of the Master! watching 
them afar off in the midnight darkness, and having this gracious 
supply quite ready for them ; so that they had no fuel to collect. 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 415 

or fire to kindle, or bread and fisii to prepare. It was all 
waiting for these weary inen ! 

Jesus, with His own hands, gives to each a portion. In tearful 
silence they must have looked on the Hands with the deep gashes 
of the nails still upon them. How they must have been reminded 
of a recent very different spectacle from that quiet sunrise on the 
Lake ! How it must have recalled, too, many holy and sacred 
occasions when they had sat with their Lord at similar wayside 
meals in days gone by; when He had called them "children:" 
when He had shared their frugal fare, in the early morning, before 
they began the labours and fatigue of the day, or in the hush of 
the evening, after a hot day's travel among the hills and dusty 
roads of Galilee ! How often had they reclined, as they were doing 
now, — boulder or grassy turf serving alike for couch and table ! 

There was something, however, at present different from any of 
these former times ; — something about Him that awed them with 
reverence; for not a word seems to have been spoken. They 
appear for the time dumb in His presence ; none of them durst 
ask, " Who art Thou?" 

Breakfast is over. The sun will by this time have risen high 
above the eastern hills, and flooded the Lake with molten gold. 
The first breeze of morning may have begun to stir the waters, 
and the little rippling waves are making their soft, gentle music 
on the beach. As they gather around the ashes of the fire, Jesus 
begins to speak ; and there is one of the number whom the 
Master very specially addresses. It is he who had plunged into 
the water, and swam first ashore. Three times over He puts the 
question to Peter — " Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me ? " 

1 need hardly ask the reason of that question being thus 
repeated ? You remember weU the threefold denial of this once 
faithless, but yet loving and beloved Apostle. The Saviour, in 
His kind way, does not mention the denial in words ; but He 
takes this significant method of recalling it. 

Peter felt the rebuke. He was peculiarly grieved when, for 
the thio'd time (bringing to mind the saddest of his three denials), 



4i6 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

Jesus said unto him, " Lomst thou Me ? " With all his heart and 
soul he makes answer, "Lord, Thou knowest all things, Thou 
knowest that I love Thee." 

Jesus tells him, as the best proof of his love, to go, in all time 
to come, and act the part of a shepherd of souls. " Feed," He 
says, in the tender words of the original, — " Feed Mt/ little lambs, 
feed My sheep." 

Peter's risen Lord lifts, too, the veil from the future ; and 
warns him that he will be called, in after years, to suffer and 
die for His sake. Indeed, He foretells the very manner of his 
death ; that when he became " old," he would " stretch out his 
hands " on the cruel cross. 

Peter wished much to know what would afterwards happen to 
his oldest friend — his dearest life-companion — John. " IVliat 
shall he do ? What shall his lot he ? " Will he have a hard and 
rough path to tread, and a death of suffering to die ? or will his 
be " a taking of rest in sleep ;" will he be borne gently to heaven 
on the wings of loving angels ? 

" What is that to thee ? " said Jesus : " leave that to Myself ; — 
Follow thou Me." Thou didst once before say, " / am ready to 
folloia Thee to death ; " — ' Do so now.' 

Peter from that hour was true to his Master's bidding. He 
lived ever after a brave and noble life, and died a hero's death. 

This is surely a beautiful story, my young friends, of Jesus 
meeting His disciples in the early morn ! It seems a picture of 
what He will do in the case of all His dear followers, whether 
young or old. After the long night of death is over, and the 
dawn of glory breaks, He will meet them on the heavenly shore ; 
call them " children ; " spread a glorious banquet for them ; and 
make them happy for ever in His own presence and love ! 



7'HE GREAT SUNRISE. 4^7 



LXXVI. 

f^e meetg ^iht l^untfrett Brethren on a JHountatn in Galilee, 

Does Jesus converse with any of His other disciples and friends 
again in Galilee after His resurrection? or was this, which I 
have just described, His only meeting with them ? 

ISTo. On some mountain He had appointed, a large farewell 
gathering takes place of all His dear followers. 

I cannot tell you where the mountain was. It may have been 
on one of the wooded glades of Tabor. It may have been at the 
scene of the Transfiguration on Hermon. More likely still, it 
might be either on Mount Hattin — " the Mount of Beatitudes," or 
on one of the nearer green hills surrounding the inland sea, and 
which looked down upon the chief sphere of His labours. It 
would, at all events, doubtless, be some quiet spot, where (as we 
found on the similar, but more private occasion of His eating the 
Passover) He could best gather around Him, like a kind father, 
the children He loved, and address to them solemn parting 
words. 

We are not told any particulars about this assemblage. We 
can only picture in our minds what it would be, and who came 
to it. There were five hundred people there, young and old 
(i Cor. XV. 6). 

With what glad hearts they would obey the invitation ! Most 
of those present would likely be from the towns, villages, and 
hamlets on the Lake ; but some, too, would come from a distance. 
They would willingly undergo any amount of fatigue or toil to 
behold and hear their dear Lord again. 

You can imagine them gradually gathering. The lame He had 
healed, the sick He had restored, the blind He had made to see, 

2 D 



4i8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

the sorrowing ones whose broken hearts He had bound up. We 
can even venture to think of a few special names with which we 
are now familiar. There might be Jairus, with his loved daughter 
gently leaning on his arm. There might be the maniac of Gadara, 
clothed and in his right mind, now a calm and loving believer. 
There might be the good centurion, with his restored servant ; the 
widow of Nain, with her son walking by her side ; sympathising 
adherents and followers even from " The Golden House." There 
might, moreover, be the holy female disciples from Magdala and 
Capernaum — Mary, Joanna, and Susanna ; also the sinful woman 
from the city, who washed the Lord's feet with her tears. All 
these, with many others, might be assembled that memorable 
morning on this new Gerizim — "the hill of blessing," conscious 
that they were for the last time in their divine Master's presence. 
It must, indeed, have been with mingled feelings that they 
repaired to this quiet temple of nature, to receive a farewell bene- 
diction from the Great High Priest before He left the court of the 
earthly sanctuary for " the Holiest of all." Perhaps a truer com- 
parison of this gathering, would be to the closing scene in the 
Temple of Jerusalem on the Day of Atonement. Jesus, having 
entered within the veil with the offering of His own blood, now 
comes forth to bless His waiting people. 

The five hundred may have been seated in rows on " the green 
grass," just like the five thousand at Bethsaida on the occasion of 
the miracle of the loaves. As they are waiting eagerly for His 
appearance, all at once the Saviour manifests Himself. It was 
after the same manner as He had done m the upper room in 
Jerusalem on the evening of the first Christian Sunday, — in 
glorified human form. We are not told how these vast crowds 
received Him. But we know that His own chosen Apostles 
went down on their knees before Him in silent adoration : 
although doubt still lingered in the minds of some of them (Matt 
xxviii. 17). 

He does not refuse their reverence and worship. He does not 
say, with the angel in the Book of Eevelation, when John fell 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 419 

at his feet to worship him, " See, thou do it not, for I am thy 
felloio-servant ; worship God." No ; Jesus, as God, accepted the 
homage of those in that mountain assembly by whom He was 
best beloved ! 

With what breathless attention they would listen to the tones 
of the voice they knew so well ! 

We are not told all the gracious words He spake to them. 
We have only a very few of these recorded ; but they are most 
precious and comforting. 

"All power," saith He, "is given unto Me in heaven and in 
earth." 

Many there, had seen Him not long before — "the Man of 
sorrows" — undergoing grief and cruelty and pain — dying on a 
cross. But now He is the " Captain of Salvation," who has been 
" made perfect through sufferings." Being invested with this 
'AU-poiuer' as the reward of these sufferings, He turns to His 
Apostles, — the chief officers of His great army, and gives them 
what an old writer calls their " marching orders " — " Go and teach 
all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the 
Son, and of the Holy Ghost." 

The first use the Eisen Jesus makes of His kingly rul e is to 
break down the wall between Jew and Gentile. The tidings of 
salvation are to be borne to every land and every shore. Pilate 
had written above the cross — " King of the Jews ; " but He had 
put the title in the three great languages of the world — Latin and 
Greek, as well as in Hebrew. " All kings " were to fall down 
before Him — " all nations " were to serve Him. To revert to one 
of the earliest sayings of this volume in connection with the 
Divine infancy, that Bright Sun was to be " a Light to lighten 
the Gentiles" as well as " the glory of His people Israel." The 
commission, moreover, was not, ' Go and subdue with the sword;' — 
not ' Go and conquer with armies ; ' — but " Go and teach." They 
were to tell these nations the good news He had spoken, and the 
glorious doctrines He had taught. Like David in his combat with 
Goliath, they were to take nothing in their hands but the simple 



420 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

sling of faith, and the smooth pebbles from the running stream of 
truth. " Out of weakness they would be made strong." 

Beautiful, above ,^11, are the very last words spoken on this 
occasion by Him who was still " the meek and lowly Jesus." 
They contained the best and kindest promise He could have 
given. It was the promise of His own presence, love, and Messing. 
As if He had said, ' I am soon to leave you ; and yet, in the best 
sense, I shall never leave you.' It was a promise to the Church 
He had purchased with His blood, embracing remotest ages — 
" Zo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world." 

Having uttered these sayings, He withdraws from sight, and 
the crowds disperse to their different homes again. It was a day 
and a scene not one there would ever forget. 

There was one private interview after this, which took place 
between Christ and one of His apostles. It is mentioned twenty 
years after by St. Paul. It was a meeting, not with John, nor 
with Peter, but with his cousin James, the son of Mary Cleophas. 
Often, at the close of life, people have a great fondness for the 
friends of youth. They cling to old attachments ; and, sometimes, 
as the best proof of friendship, they send for such companions of 
their early years, not only to take a sacred farewell, but perhaps 
also to tender some kind parting advice or counsel, which they 
would not think of giving to others. 

May it not have been with something of these feelings that 
Jesus met James all alone ? He was the last we read of, who 
saw the Lord q^lite alone. He had been His associate in child- 
hood and youth. He had known Him far longer than any of 
the other disciples. 

It seems to give us a new and beautiful glimpse as to how 
real the human nature of the Saviour was, that He appears, last 
of all, to the old school companion and boy-friend He had at 
Nazareth. It has been supposed, that possibly a very different 
object in such a meeting, may have been to prepare James for 
the post he was soon to take, of Chief Pastor of the Church at 
Jerusalem. Could another desire in the heart of the Eisen 



THE GREAT SUNRISE. 421 

Eedeemer also be, to ask His human relative to share with John 
a tender interest in His dear mother's well-being ? We are not 
informed. It may have been so. We may fe^l assured that inter- 
view, would always form a sunny spot for the good apostle to 
look back upon. This we know, that he afterwards lived a very 
holy life. He wrote the Epistle in our Bibles which bears his 
name. He was, some years after, cruelly stoned to death. Who 
can tell but Jesus may have said something at this private con- 
ference which may have made him brave and courageous in that 
trying hour ? 

I have just alluded, for the last time, to an honoured name 
which has frequently occurred in these pages : — that of the 
blessed mother of our Lord. Did she die in Jerusalem ? or in 
more distant Ephesus ? We cannot be certain. There is a 
touching tradition of the Early Church, though no more than 
a tradition, that she was buried, at her own request, by the 
loving hands to whom she had been committed, in the Garden 
of Gethsemane. 



DAW^N OF ETERNAL DAY. 

" THY SUN SHALL NO MORE GO DOWN." — Is. LX. 20. 

"so THEN, AFTER THE LORD HAD SPOKEN UNTO THEM, HE WAS 
RECEIVED UP INTO HEAVEN, AND SAT ON THE RIGHT HAND OF 

GOD." — Mark xvi. 19. 

"lift up YOUR HEADS, O YE GATES ; EVEN LIFT THEM UP, YE EVER- 
LASTING DOORS ; AND THE KING OF GLORY SHALL COME IN. WHO 
IS THIS KING OF GLORY? THE LORD OF HOSTS, HE IS THE KING 
OF GLORY." — Ps. XXIV. 9, ID. 

"the CITY HAD NO NEED OF THE SUN, NEITHER OF THE MOON, TO 
SHINE IN IT ; FOR THE GLORY OF GOD DID LIGHTEN IT, AND THK 
LAMB IS THE LIGHT THEREOF." — ReV. XXL 23. 



DA WN OF ETERNAL DA Y. 425 



LXXVII. 

f^e i% taltcn up to l^eaben tit a Clotiti. 

In the preceding section, we have stood in thought by the 
sepulchre in the garden, and watched the Great Sunrise. 

We are told in one of the Jewish sacred writings, that the 
priests on duty in the Temple, during the last watch of the night, 
looked eagerly, morning after morning, for the sun's earliest ray 
tipping Mount Hebron — a conspicuous hill south-east of Jeru- 
salem. When its summit caught the longed-for beam, the cry 
burst forth — " Barkdi ad Chebron ! " — " The light of day appears 
on Hebron ! " This was followed by a blast of trumpets, 
answered in the distance with a peal of bells. The rising sun 
was the signal for the commencement of the services within the 
sacred courts. 

The true Light of Day, — " above the brightness of the sun " — 
has risen from the gloom of the grave and of death. But His 
rising, too, is only the signal for the commencement of the loftier 
services of the Temple above, in the New Jerusalem — " the house 
not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." With a higher 
than earthly meaning may it be said, " In them hath He set a 
tabernacle for the SuN ; . . . His going forth is from the end of 
the heaven, and His circuit unto the ends of it " (Ps. xix. 5). " For 
Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which 
are the figures of the true ; but into heaven itself, now to appear 
in the presence of God for us" (Heb. ix. 24). Our last glimpse 
of that All Glorious Sun, whose course we have sought reverently 
to trace, will be as He vanishes from sight within the Golden 
Gates. His ascension to Heaven was truly, to His glorified 
Church, the dawn of Everlasting Day ! 

" The sweet Story of old," then, is drawing to a close. Forty 



426 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

days have passed since Jesus rose from the dead, and He is about 
to return to His Father. 

A little while before the Feast of Pentecost, the disciples seem 
to have gone back from Galilee to Jerusalem. We find them 
once more with their Master ; probably they are in " the upper 
room" — the same chamber which had so many memories of 
gloom and doubt, as well as of peace and joy. 

They leave it for the last time in His company. On frequent 
occasions before, had they journeyed together. They have their 
final walk now. It is along the same footpath they knew and loved 
so well. Their risen Shepherd, we read, " Ud them out." They 
knew not where He was going ; but they followed Him trustfully ; 
although, in doing so, they may have had at the same time their 
own strange sad thoughts as to what was about to happen. 

They cross the brook Kidron, and climb the steep road lead- 
ing across the Mount of Olives to Bethany. They do not enter 
the village, but apparently strike off the beaten track to one of 
the quiet heights near it, and where the noise and din of the 
neighbouring city could not be heard. 

I remember well when there, looking around and wondering 
where that most sacred place could be on which the human foot- 
steps of Jesus last rested ! No one can tell. I sat down with 
a friend on a grassy knoll, which might possibly answer to it, 
and read the story of the Ascension. I shall, at all events, ever 
think of that spot in connection with the great closing scene in 
the life of the Divine Saviour. It was a short way from the 
road, on the side or ridge of a little valley. There were frag- 
ments of worn limestone rocks scattered about with heath grow- 
ing upon them, and numbers of oUve, fig, and almond-trees, — the 
last in full blossom. Bethany was hid in the hollow to the right. 
There was a grand view in the far distance, deep, deep down, 
of the Jordan Valley and the Dead Sea. Above was a sky of 
unclouded blue. 

The Blessed Lord and His followers, as they walk across the 
hill, are engaged in earnest conversation. 



DAWN OF ETERNAL DAY. 427 

" Master" say they, " wilt Thou at this time restore again the 
hingdom to Israel ? " 

Perhaps the question was suggested as they stood for a 
moment near the top of Olivet and gazed on the glorious Temple, 
with Herod's towers and palaces behind it. Notwithstanding 
all they had heard from Jesus' lips, to the last they still seem 
to have clung to the hope of His driving away the hated Eoman, 
and reigning on the ancient throne of David ! 

He replied to them — "Do not inquire about the times and 
seasons." He told them He had nobler and better work for them 
meanwhile to do. They are not to expect an earthly kingdom: 
they are rather to prepare others for a heavenly and eternal one. 
And so He renews the great commission He had previously 
given, that they are to "Preach the Gospel to every creature." He 
enjoins them to " begin at Jerusalem ; " then to go to Judea ; 
then to Samaria ; then to " the uttermost parts of the earth." 
He told them, further, not to return at present to the Lake-side ; 
nor yet to start at once on their great work of teaching and 
preaching ; but to wait at Jerusalem till Pentecost ; when the 
Holy Spirit would be poured out upon them, and they would 
have new power given them from on high. 

All His directions being completed, the gates of Heaven are 
thrown open to receive Him back. 

The songs of angels are already floating in His ear, yet still 
His loving thoughts are with those He is to leave behind ! 

He lifts up His hands (the hands with the print of the nails 
still upon them), and blesses His Apostles. While in the act of 
blessing, His glorious and glorified body begins to move from the 
earth. 

Slowly He ascends in the deep, calm blue of that hot summer 
sky. A cloud, similar to the one we saw on Hermon, comes 
down to meet Him, Without wing or chariot-wheel. He is 
borne up in that bright white covering. Higher and higher it 
mounts, till it becomes a speck, and is lost from view. 

In this glorious vanishing of the Great Sun to shine in 



42 8 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

brighter worlds, I am reminded of a poet's description of His 
type in the heavens — 

" And then, in glorious pomp, the Sun retired 
Behind that solemn curtain, and His train 
Of crimson and of azure and of gold 
"Went floating up the zenith, tint on tint, 
And ray on ray, till all the concave caught 
His parting benediction ! " 

Or in the similar words of another — 

" Then the cloud rose sunward 
Ever brighter, higher, 
Ever floated onward 

Towards the Gates of Fire. 

" All its being belted 
With a glory bright, 
Into heaven it melted 
In a dream of light. 

" And when earth was covered 
With its twilight shroud, ' 
Still a radiance hovered 
Nigh the vanished cloud." 

The disciples feel for the first time that they are orphans. 
They gaze steadfastly upwards, dumb with silence. ISTo trace of 
their dear Master is to be seen. There was nothing but the stUl 
silent air above and around them. The last glimpse they had 
was that of His hands extended in blessing. But it was enough 
to tell them that no distance, no space, no time could ever 
separate them from His love ! 

When they turn their straining eyes back, however, to the 
green mountain-slopes around, they feel they are not alone as they 
had imagined. Two angels are standing behind them. They 
speak some comforting words. They address them as " Men of 
Galilee." These bright messengers may, perhaps, before this 



DAWN OF ETERNAL DAY. 429 

time, liave sped on ' angel-visits ' to Jesus on some of the silent 
mountains of Galilee, where He was wont to pray. 

What is the consoling message which these two shining ones 
deliver ? 

It was that this same Jesus — the meek and the lowly Saviour — 
who was now taken to Heaven, would " so come again in like 
manner ; " when He would say to His Church and people — " Come, 
ye hlessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from 
the foundation of the ivorld." 

All the eleven fell down on the green turf, not to worship the 
angels, but to worship Him who had been received up into glory ! 

It was a wondrous moment. When these eleven men were 
lying dumb and speechless on the grass of an earthly hill, all 
Heaven was stirred to receive back her crowned Mediator. The 
adoring ranks of angels made way for Him as He passed up the 
golden streets to sit down for ever at the right hand of God ! On 
this same Mount of Olives, a few weeks before, there had been a 
triumphal procession, amid the waving of palm branches, into the 
earthly city ; — but what was it to this glorious entry of the Divine 
Conqueror within the heavenly portals, among a multitude 
" clothed in white robes, and palms in their hands." 

The Apostles rose from their knees to go back again across the 
Mount. With what feelings do you suppose they will return ? 

Oh, I am certain ypu will think and say, * It will be with eyes 
filled with tears, and with hearts ready to break. It will surely 
be with them as with those who have come from seeing the vessel 
sail with their eldest and best-loved brother to a far distant land ; 
or like those who are returning to their desolate home after laying 
the head of an honoured parent in the grave.' 

Yet, strange to say, that was not the case. We read, " They 
returned to Jerusalem with great joy ! " We look for tears and 
we hear songs. We look for them daily in the sacred courts, 
doing little else than mourn their unspeakable loss ; but we 
read, " They are continually in the Temple, peaising and blessing 
God ! " 



430 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

How was this ? Birds sing in sunshine. Now that " the Siin 
of their souls " had vanished from their sight, how could they thus 
wake their tongues to melody ? 

I answer — The many promises of Jesus ; the parting blessing 
of Jesus ; along with the saying of the angels, had all greatly 
comforted them. They would think, doubtless, with grateful joy 
over the three happy years they had spent in the service of their 
Master, and enjoyed His gracious love. They would think of the 
Divine Spirit He had pledged to send when He went away ; whose 
presence was to atone for His own loss and absence, and who was 
to " abide with them for ever." Above all, they would dwell on 
what the shining messengers had told them, that He himself would 
come again as a Brother-man : or, as in His own tender words a 
few weeks before — " / will come again and receive you unto Myself, 
that where I am there ye may he also ! " 

In many a future day and future year, how often would these 
disciples think of that farewell hour, that farewell look : — the 
extended hands — the loving blessing — the ascending cloud — the 
angel promise ! 

They would say to one another, not in the words, but in the 
thought of the poet — 

" No fear but we shall soon behold, 

Faster than now it fades, that gleam revive ; 
When issuing from His cloud of fiery gold 

Our wasted frames feel the true Sun and live !"* 

One of these devout gazers thus speaks of " that blessed 
hope " with holy joy, and prays about it with earnest longings, 
many years after. It was the one glad thought of his life. 
It took all the gloom away from his prison home. " Behold, 
He cometh with clouds !" . . . " Bven so, come, Lord Jesus, come 
f" 



Young readers ! wlio have followed me in the foregoing chap- 
ters, I would seek, ere closing, to remind you yet once more (as I 
have sought to do frequently) of the golden thread running all 
through this wondrous Story of the most wondrous of lives, — 
that this meek and lowly Jesus, who was born at Bethlehem ; who 
lived in the village of Nazareth, and toiled at daily labour there ; 
who agonised in Gethsemane, who was crowned with thorns, who 
bled on Calvary, who was laid, pale and silent, in Joseph's garden- 
tomb — was none other than the mighty God ! He was not, as 
some unworthily speak of Him and think of Him, merely a good 
and holy Prophet — one of the illustrious teachers or sages of 
humanity, like Socrates or Solon, Seneca or Solomon ; — one of 
many bright and glorious stars which have appeared from 
age to age. No ; He is the great central Sun, around whom 
these stars all revolve. " His goings forth have been from of ohl, 
from everlasting." His name is what the ablest and noblest of 
human teachers never dared to assume — "IMMANUEL, God 
WITH us." 

" Great is the mystery of godliness : God was manifest in 

THE flesh, justified IN THE SPIRIT, SEEN OF ANGELS, PREACHED 

UNTO THE Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into 

GLORY ! " 

As you take a yet parting gaze on this Divine Vision, are you 
able to say, " We heheld His glory, the glory as of the Only- Begotten 
of the Father, full of grace and truth " ? The famous statue of 
Memnon, on the plain of Thebes, was said, under the influence of 
the sun's morning rays, to emit strains of music. Happy for you 
if, in life's young morning, you have been made the subjects of a 
grander, diviner reality — if, shone upon by One " Brighter than 
the Sun," you give out from your earliest years the tuneful 
melody of a holy, pure, devoted life, saying, " My voice shalt thou 
hear in the morning, Lord ! In the morning will I direct my 
prayer unto Thee ! " Thus paying your " morning sacrifice," you 
will be able to look forward with joyful hope to that better 
world, where the happy myriads who bask under unsetting beams 
are said to sliine " as the brightness of the firmament " and (in 



432 BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. 

the reflected light of the True Sun) " as the stars, for ever and 
ever." 

" No cloud upon its radiant joy, 
No shadow o'er its bright employ, 

No sleep — no night, 

But perfect sight, 
The Lord our everlasting Light ! " 

** And the Lamb is the light thereof ! " — Does not this assertion 
seem to intimate (what was already said in the beginning of this 
section), that Jesus will never cease to be the Sun of His 
Eedeemed Church in Heaven ? Yea, more ! that the glories of 
the Godhead will, during the ages of eternity, be seen and gazed 
upon through the softening light and lustre of His glorihed 
humanity ? — 

*' Oh who shall bear 
The blinding glare 

Of the peerless Light that shall meet us there ! 
If without a screen 
At one burst be seen 

The Presence in which we have ever been ? 
What eye can gaze 
On the unveiled blaze 
Of the lustrous throne of the Ancient of Days ] 

" Arm of the Lord ! 
Creating Word ; 

Whose glory the silent skies record, 
Who hast set Thy name 
In scrolls of fame, 
On the firmament's all-encircling flame ! 

•* I gaze o'erhead 
Where Thy hand hath spread 
For the waters of heaven, their crystal bed ; 
And stored the dew 
In its depths of blue, 
Which the fires of the sun come tempered through. 



DAWN OF ETERNAL DAY. 433 

" As soft they shine 
Through that pure shrine, 
So beneath the veil of Thy flesh divine, 
Will beam the Light 
That were else too bright, 
To fall on a ransom'd mortal's sight ! " 

Be this, meanwhile, the closing petition of all whose eyes have 
traced the preceding pages. They are words specially befitting 
the lips of those still breathing the air of life's early hours — 

" Light ! whose beams illumine all, 
From twilight dawn to perfect day, 
Shine Thou before the shadows fall 

That lead our wandering feet astray ; 
At morn and eve Thy radiance pour, 
That youth may love and age adore !" 

« Then shall the eighteous shine foeth 

AS THE SUN, 

IN THE Kingdom of theie Fathee" 

(Matt, xiii 43). 



THE END. 



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