The way southward lies through Galilee; but the time of Galilee's
visitation is now over, so Jesus avoids public attention as much as
possible, and gives Himself up to the instruction of His disciples,
especially to impressing upon their minds the new lesson of the Cross,
which they find it so very hard to realise, or even to understand. A
brief stay in Capernaum was to be expected; and there above all places
He could not hope to escape notice; but the manner of it is sadly
significant--no friendly greeting, no loving welcome, not even any
personal recognition, only a more or less entangling question as to
the Temple tax, addressed, not to Christ Himself, but to Peter: "Doth
not your Master pay the half-shekel?" (R.V.). The impulsive disciple
showed his usual readiness by answering at once in the affirmative. He
perhaps thought it was becoming his Master's dignity to show not a
moment's hesitation in such a matter; but if so, he must have seen his
mistake when he heard what his Lord had to say on the subject,
reminding him as it did that, as Son of God, He was Lord of the
Temple, and not tributary to it.
Some have felt a difficulty in reconciling the position taken on this
occasion with His previous attitude towards the law, notably on the
occasion of His baptism, when in answer to John's remonstrance, He
said, "It becometh us to fulfil all righteousness"; but it must be
remembered that He has entered on a new stage of His career. He has
been rejected by those who acknowledged allegiance to the Temple,
virtually excommunicated, so that He has been constrained to found His
Church outside the commonwealth of Israel; He must therefore assert
His own rights and theirs in spiritual things (for it must be
remembered that the "half-shekel" was not the tribute to Cæsar, but
the impost for the maintenance of the Temple worship). But while
asserting His right He would not insist on it: He would stand by His
disciple's word, and so avoid putting a stumbling-block in the way of
those that were without, and who therefore could not be expected to
understand the position He took. While consenting to pay the tax, He
would provide it in such a way as not to lower His lofty claims in the
view of His disciples, but rather to illustrate them, bringing home,
as it must have done, to them all, and especially to the "pilot of the
Galilean lake," that all things were under His feet, down to the very
"fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the
seas" (Psalm viii. 8, l. 10-12). The difficulty which some feel in
regard to this miracle, as differing so much in its character from
those wrought in presence of the people as signs of the kingdom and
credentials of the King, is greatly relieved, if not altogether
removed, by remembering what was the special object in view--the
instruction of Peter and the other disciples--and observing how
manifestly and peculiarly appropriate it was for this particular
purpose.
THE LITTLE ONES (xviii. 1-14).
The brief stay at Capernaum was signalised by some other lessons of
the greatest importance. First, _as to the great and the small in
the kingdom of heaven_. We learn from the other Evangelists that by
the way the disciples had disputed with one another who should be the
greatest. Alas for human frailty, even in the true disciple! It is
most humiliating to think that, after that week, with its high and
holy lessons, the first thing we hear of the disciples should be their
failure in the very particulars which had been special features of the
week's instruction. Recall the two points: the first was faith in the
Christ, the Son of the living God, and over against it we have from
lack of faith the signal failure with the lunatic child; the second
was self-denial, and over against it we have this unseemly strife as
to who should be greatest in the kingdom.
It is startling and most sad; but is it not true to nature? Is it not
after the most solemn impressions that we need to be most watchful?
And how natural it is, out of what is taught us, to choose and
appropriate what is welcome, and, without expressly rejecting, simply
to leave unassimilated and unapplied what is unwelcome. The great
burden of the instruction for the last eight or ten days had been the
Cross. There had been reference to the rising again, and the coming in
the glory of the kingdom; but these had been kept strictly in the
background, mentioned chiefly to save the disciples from undue
discouragement, and even the three who had the vision of glory on the
mount were forbidden to mention the subject in the meantime. Yet they
let it fill the whole field of view; and though when the Master is
with them He still speaks to them of the Cross, when they are by
themselves they dismiss the subject, and fall to disputing as to who
shall be the greatest in the kingdom!
How patiently and tenderly their Master deals with them! No doubt the
same thought was in His heart again: "O faithless and perverse
generation, how long shall I be with you? how long shall I suffer
you?" But He does not even express it now. He takes an opportunity,
when they are quietly together in the house, of teaching them the
lesson they most need in a manner so simple and beautiful, so touching
and impressive, as to commend it to all true-hearted ones to the end
of time. Jesus called a little child to Him, "and set him in the midst
of them." Can we doubt that they felt the force of that striking
object-lesson before He said a word? Then, as we learn from St. Mark,
to whom we always look for minute details, after having set him in the
midst of them for them to look at and think about for a while, He took
him in His arms, as if to show them where to look for those who were
nearest to the heart of the King of heaven.
Nothing could have been more suggestive. It perfectly suited the
purpose He had in view; but the meaning and the value of that simple
act were by no means limited to that purpose. It most effectually
rebuked their pride and selfish ambition; but it was far more than a
rebuke--it was a revelation which taught men to appreciate
child-nature as they had never done before. It was a new thought the
Lord Jesus so quietly introduced into the minds of men that day, a
seed-thought which had in it the promise, not only of all that
appreciation of child-life which is characteristic of Christendom
to-day, and which has rendered possible such poems as Vaughan's
"Retreat," and Wordsworth's grand ode on "Immortality," but also of
that appreciation of the broadly human as distinguished from the mere
accidents of birth or rank or wealth which lies at the foundation of
all Christian civilisation. The enthusiasm of humanity is all in that
little act done so unassumingly in heedless Capernaum.
The words spoken are in the highest degree worthy of the act they
illustrate. The first lesson is, _None but the lowly are in the
kingdom_: "Except ye be converted (from the selfish pride of your
hearts), and become (lowly and self-forgetful) as little children, ye
shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." A most heart-searching
lesson! What grave doubts and questions it must have suggested to the
disciples! They had faith to follow Christ in an external way; but
were they really following Him? Had He not said, "If any man will come
after Me, let him deny himself"? Were they denying self? On the other
hand, however, we need not suppose that this selfish rivalry was
habitual with them. It was probably one of those surprises which
overtake the best of Christians; so that it was not really a proof
that they did not belong to the kingdom, but only that for the time
they were acting inconsistently with it; and therefore, before they
could think of occupying any place, even the very lowest in the
kingdom, they must repent, and become as little children.
The next lesson is, _The lowliest in the kingdom are the greatest_:
"Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the
same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven." Again a most wonderful
utterance, now so familiar to us, that we are apt to regard it as a
thing of course; but what a startling paradox it must have been to the
astonished disciples that day! Yet, as they looked at the bright,
innocent, clear-eyed, self-unconscious little child, so simple, so
trustful, there must have come a response from that which was deepest
and best within them to their Master's words. And though the thought
was new to them at the time, it did come home to them: it passed into
their nature, and showed itself afterwards in precious fruit, at which
the world still wonders. They did not indeed get over their
selfishness all at once; but how grandly were they cured of it when
their training was finished! If there is one thing more characteristic
of the apostles in their after life than any other, it is their
self-forgetfulness--their self-effacement, we may say. Where does
Matthew ever say a word about the sayings or doings of Matthew? Even
John, who was nearest of all to the heart of the Saviour, and with Him
in all His most trying hours, can write a whole gospel without ever
mentioning his own name; and when he has occasion to speak of John the
Baptist does it as if there were no other John in existence. So was it
with them all. We must not forget that, so far as this lesson of
self-denial is concerned, they were only beginners now (see xvi. 21);
but after they had completed their course and received the Pentecostal
seal, they did not disgrace their Teacher any more: they did then
really and nobly deny self; and thus did they at last attain true
greatness in the kingdom of heaven.
* * * * *
So far we have what may be called the Saviour's direct answer to the
question as to the greatest; but He cannot leave the subject without
also setting before them the claims of the least in the kingdom of
heaven. He has shown them how to be great: He now teaches them how to
treat the small. The two things lie very close together. The man who
makes much of himself is sure to make light of others; and he who is
ambitious for worldly greatness will have little regard for those who
in his eyes are small. The lesson, then, would have been incomplete
had He not vindicated the claims of the little ones.
It is manifest, from the whole strain of the passage which follows,
that the reference is not exclusively to children in years, but quite
as much to children in spiritual stature, or in position and influence
in the Church. The little ones are those who are small in the sense
corresponding to that of the word "great" in the disciples' question.
They are those, therefore, that are small and weak, and (as it is
sometimes expressed) of no account in the Church, whether this be due
to tender years or to slender abilities or to scanty means or to
little faith.
What our Lord says on this subject comes evidently from the very
depths of His heart. He is not content with making sure that the
little ones shall receive as good a welcome as the greatest: they must
have a special welcome, just because they are small. He identifies
Himself with them--with each separate little one: "Whoso shall receive
one such little child in My name receiveth Me." What a grand security
for the rights and privileges of the small! what a word for parents
and teachers, for men of influence and wealth in the Church in their
relations to the weak and poor!
Then follow two solemn warnings, wrought out with great fulness and
energy. The first is against putting a stumbling-block in the way of
even one of these little ones--an offence which may be committed
without any thought of the consequences. Perhaps this is the very
reason why the Master feels it necessary to use language so terribly
strong, that He may, if possible, arouse His disciples to some sense
of their responsibility: "Whoso shall offend one of these little ones
which believe in Me, it were better for him that a millstone were
hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the
sea." How jealously He guards the little ones! Verily he that toucheth
them "toucheth the apple of His eye."
From the corresponding passage in St. Mark, it would appear that
Christ had in view, not only such differences of age and ability and
social position as are found in every community of disciples, but also
such differences as are found between one company and another of
professing Christians (see Mark ix. 38-42). This infuses a new pathos
into the sad lament with which He forecasts the future: "Woe unto the
world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come;
but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!" The solemn warnings
which follow, not given now for the first time (see chap. v. 29, 30),
coming in this connection, convey the important lesson that the only
effectual safeguard against causing others to stumble is to take heed
to our own ways, and be ready to make any sacrifice in order to
maintain our personal purity, simplicity and uprightness (vv. 8, 9).
How often alas! in the history of the Church has the cutting off been
applied in the wrong direction; when the strong, in the exercise of an
authority which the Master would never have sanctioned, have passed
sentence of excommunication against some defenceless little one;
whereas if they had laid to heart these solemn warnings, they would
have cut off, not one of Christ's members, but one of their own--the
harsh hand, the hasty foot, the jealous eye, which caused them to
stumble!
The other warning is: "Take heed that ye despise not one of these
little ones." To treat them so is to do the reverse of what is done in
heaven. Be their guardian angels rather, if you would have the
approval of Him Who reigns above; for their angels are those who
always have the place of honour there. Is there not something very
touching in this home reference, "My Father which is in
heaven"?--especially when He is about to refer to the mission of mercy
which made Him an exile from His home. And this reference gives Him an
additional plea against despising one of these little ones; for not
only are the highest angels their honoured guardians, but they are
those whom the Son of man has come to seek and to save. The little
lamb which you despise is one for whom the heavenly Shepherd has
thought it worth His while to leave all the rest of His flock that He
may go after it, and seek it on the lonely mountains, whither it has
strayed, and over whose recovery He has greater joy than even in the
safety of all the rest. The climax is reached when He carries thoughts
above the angels, above even the Son of man, to the will of the Father
(now it is _your_ Father; for He desires to bring to bear upon
them the full force of that tender relationship which it is now their
privilege to claim): "Even so it is not the will of your Father which
is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish."
TRESPASSES (xviii. 15-35).
The transition is natural from those solemn words in which our Lord
has warned His disciples against offending "one of these little ones,"
to the instructions which follow as to how they should treat those of
their brethren who might trespass against them. These instructions,
occupying the rest of this chapter, are of perennial interest and
value, so long as it must needs be that offences come.
The trespasses referred to are of course real. Much heartburning and
much needless trouble often come of "offences" which exist only in
imagination. A "sensitive" disposition (often only another name for
one that is uncharitable and suspicious) leads to the imputing of bad
motives where none exist, and the finding of sinister meanings in the
most innocent acts. Such offences are not worthy of consideration at
all. It is further to be observed that our Lord is not dealing with
ordinary quarrels, where there are faults on both sides, in which case
the first step would be not to tell the brother his fault, but to
acknowledge our own. The trespass, then, being real, and the fault all
on the other side, how is the disciple of Christ to act? The
paragraphs which follow make it clear.
"The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable;"
accordingly we are first shown how to proceed in order to preserve the
purity of the Church. Then instructions are given with a view to
preserve the peace of the Church. The first paragraph shows how to
exercise discipline; the second lays down the Christian rule of
forgiveness.
* * * * *
"If thy brother shall trespass against thee,"--what? Pay no heed to
it? Since it takes two to make a quarrel, is it best simply to let him
alone? That might be the best way to deal with offences on the part of
those that are without; but it would be a sad want of true brotherly
love to take this easy way with a fellow-disciple. It is certainly
better to overlook an injury than to resent it; yet our Lord shows a
more excellent way. His is not the way of selfish resentment, nor of
haughty indifference; but of thoughtful concern for the welfare of him
who has done the injury. That this is the motive in the entire
proceeding is evident from the whole tone of the paragraph, in
illustration of which reference may be made to the way in which
success is regarded: "If he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy
brother." If a man sets out with the object of gaining his cause or
getting satisfaction, he had better let it alone; but if he wishes not
to gain a barren triumph for himself, but to gain his brother, let him
proceed according to the wise instructions of our Lord and Master.
There are four steps: (1) "Go and tell him his fault between thee and
him alone." Do not wait till he comes to apologise, as is the rule
laid down by the rabbis, but go to him at once. Do not think of your
own dignity. Think only of your Master's honour and your brother's
welfare. How many troubles, how many scandals might be prevented in
the Christian Church, if this simple direction were faithfully and
lovingly carried out! In some cases, however, this may fail; and then
the next step is: (2) "Take with thee one or two more, that in the
mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established." The
process here passes from private dealing; still there must be no undue
publicity. If the reference to two or at most three (see R.V.) fail,
it becomes a duty to (3) "tell it unto the church," in the hope that
he may submit to its decision. If he decline, there is nothing left
but (4) excommunication: "Let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a
publican."
The mention of church censure naturally leads to a declaration of the
power vested in the church in the matter of discipline. Our Lord had
already given such a declaration to Peter alone; now it is given to
the church as a whole in its collective capacity: "Verily I say unto
you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and
whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." But the
question comes: What is the church in its collective capacity? If it
is to have this power of discipline, of the admission and rejection of
members--a power which, rightly exercised on earth, is ratified in
heaven--it is important to know something as to its constitution. This
much, indeed, we know: that it is an assembly of believers. But how
large must the assembly be? What are the marks of the true church?
These questions are answered in vv. 19 and 20. It is made very plain
that it is no question of numbers, but of union with one another and
the Lord. Let it be remembered that the whole discourse has grown out
of the strife with one another which should be the greatest. Our Lord
has already shown that, instead of ambition to be the greatest, there
must be readiness to be the least. He now makes it plain that instead
of strife and division there must be agreement, unity in heart and
desire. But if only there be this unity, this blending of hearts in
prayer, there is found the true idea of the Church. Two disciples in
full spiritual agreement, with hearts uplifted to the Father in
heaven, and Christ present with them,--there is what may be called the
primitive cell of the Church, the body of Christ complete in itself,
but in its rudimentary or germinal form. It comes to this, that the
presence of Christ with His people and of His spirit in them, uniting
them with one another and with Him, is that which constitutes the true
and living church; and it is only when thus met in the name of
Christ, and acting in the spirit of Christ, that assemblies of
believers, whether large or small, have any guarantee that their
decrees on earth are registered in heaven, or that the promise shall
be fulfilled to them, that what they ask "shall be done for them of My
Father which is in heaven."
These words were spoken in the day of small things, when the members
of the Church were reckoned by units; therefore it is a mistake to use
them as if very small gatherings for prayer were especially pleasing
to the great Head of the Church. It does indeed remain true, for the
encouragement of the faithful few, that wherever two or three are met
in the name of Jesus He is there; but that makes it no less
disappointing when the numbers might be reasonably expected to be very
much larger. Because our Lord said, "Better two of you agreed than the
whole twelve at strife," does it follow that two or three will have
the power in their united prayers which two or three hundred would
have? The stress is not on the figure, but on the agreement.
The words "There _am I_ in the midst of them" are very striking
as a manifestation of that strange consciousness of freedom from
limitations of time and place, which the Lord Jesus felt and often
expressed even in the days of His flesh. It is the same consciousness
which appears in the answer to the cavil of the Jews as to the
intimacy with Abraham He seemed to them to claim,--"Before Abraham
was, I am." As a practical matter also it suggests that we do not need
to ask and wait for the presence of the Master, when we are truly met
in His name. It is not _He_ that needs to be entreated to draw
near to us: "There _am I_."
So far the directions given have been with a view to the good of the
offending brother and the honour of Christ and His cause. It remains
to show how the offended person is to act on his part. Here the rule
is very simple: _forgive him_. What satisfaction, then, is the
offended party to get? The satisfaction of forgiving. That is all; and
it is enough.
It will be observed, indeed, that our Lord, in His discourse up to the
point we have reached, has said nothing directly about forgiveness. It
is fairly implied, however, in the manner of process, in the very
first act of it indeed; for no one will go to an offending brother
with the object of gaining him, unless he have first forgiven him in
his heart. Peter appears to have been revolving this in his mind, and
in doing so he cannot get over a difficulty as to the limit of
forgiveness. He was familiar, of course, with the rabbinical limit of
the third offence, after which the obligation to forgiveness ceased;
and, impressed with the spirit of his Master's teaching, he no doubt
thought he was showing great liberality in more than doubling the
number of times the offence might be repeated and still be considered
pardonable: "Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I
forgive him? till seven times?" It has been thought that some of his
brethren had been treating Peter badly, so that his patience was
sorely tried. Be that as it may, the question was not at all
unnatural. But it was founded on a fallacy, which our Lord cleared
away by His answer, and thoroughly exposed by means of the striking
parable which follows. The fallacy was this: that we have a right to
resent an injury, that in refraining from this we are forbearing to
exercise our right, and consequently that there is a limit beyond
which we have no call to exercise such forbearance. Our Lord by His
answer clears away the limit, and makes the obligation unconditional
and universal (ver. 22).
The parable shows the reason why there should be no limit--viz., that
all believers, or members of the Church, by accepting from God the
unlimited forgiveness He has extended to them, are thereby implicitly
pledged to extend a like unlimited forgiveness to others. There is no
duty on which our Lord insists more strenuously than this duty of
forgiving those who trespass against us, always connecting closely
together our forgiving and our being forgiven; and in this parable it
is set in the strongest light.
The greatest offence of which our fellow-man can be guilty is as
nothing to the sins we have committed against God. The proportion
suggested is very startling. The larger sum is more than two millions
sterling on the lowest computation; the smaller is not much more than
four guineas. This is no exaggeration. Seven times altogether for a
brother's offences seems almost unpardonable: do we never offend
against God as many times in a single hour? Then think of the days,
and the years! This is a startling thought on the one side; but how
cheering on the other! For the immensity of the debt does not
interfere in the slightest with the freeness and fulness and
absoluteness of the forgiveness. Verily there is no more satisfying or
reassuring presentation of the gospel than this parable, especially
these very words, which rang like a knell of doom in the unmerciful
servant's ear: "I forgave thee _all that debt_." But just in
proportion to the grandeur of the gospel here unfolded is the rigour
of the requirement, that as we have been forgiven so must we forgive.
While we gladly take the abounding comfort, let us not miss the stern
lesson, evidently given with the very strongest feeling. Our Lord
paints the picture of this man in the most hideous colours, so as to
fill our minds and hearts with a proper loathing of the conduct of
those he represents. The same intention is apparent in the very severe
terms in which the punishment is denounced: "His lord was wroth, and
delivered him to the tormentors." After this how awful is the closing
sentence: "So likewise shall My heavenly Father do also unto you, if
ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their
trespasses."
Is that tender name of Father out of place? By no means; for is it not
the outraged love of God that cries out against the unforgiving soul?
And the words "from your hearts,"--are they not too hard on poor frail
human nature? It is easy enough to grant forgiveness with the
lips,--but from the heart? Yet so it stands written; and it only shows
the need we have, not only of unmeasured mercy, but of unmeasured
grace. Nothing but the love of Christ can constrain to such
forgiveness. The warning was a solemn one, but it need have no terror
for those who have truly learned the lesson of the Cross, and welcomed
the Spirit of Christ to reign in their hearts. "I can do all things
through Christ Who strengtheneth me."
* * * * *
There is an admirable fulness and harmony in Christ's teaching on this
subject, as on every other. The duty of unlimited forgiveness is most
plainly enjoined; but not that weak forgiveness which consists simply
in permitting a man to trespass as he chooses. Forgiveness and
faithfulness go hand in hand. The forgiveness of the Christian is in
no case to be the offspring of a weak unmanly indifference to wrong.
It is to spring from gratitude and love: gratitude to God, Who has
forgiven his enormous debt, and love to the enemy who has wronged him.
It must be combined with that faithfulness and fortitude which
constrains him to go to the offending party and frankly, though
kindly, tell him his fault. Christ's doctrine of forgiveness has not
an atom of meanness in it, and His doctrine of faithfulness has not a
spark of malice. "The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then
peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good
fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy. And the fruit of
righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace."