XI.

"Art Thou He?"

(MATTHEW XI.)

"He fought his doubts and gathered strength,

He would not make his judgment blind,

He faced the spectres of the mind

And laid them;--thus he came, at length,

"To find a stronger faith his own,

And Power was with him in the night,

Which makes the darkness and the light,

And dwells not in the light alone."

TENNYSON.

John's Misgivings--Disappointed Hopes--Signs of the Christ--The

Discipline of Patience--A New Beatitude

It is very touching to remark the tenacity with which some few of

John's disciples clung to their great leader. The majority had

dispersed: some to their homes; some to follow Jesus. Only a handful

lingered still, not alienated by the storm of hate which had broken on

their master, but drawn nearer, with the unfaltering loyalty of

unchangeable affection. They could not forget what he had been to

them--that he had first called them to the reality of living; that he

had taught them to pray; that he had led them to the Christ: and they

dare not desert him now, in the dark sad days of his imprisonment and

sorrow.

What an inestimable blessing to have friends like this, who will not

leave our side when the crowd ebbs, but draw closer as the shadows

darken over our path, and the prison damp wraps its chill mantle about

us! To be loved like that is earth's deepest bliss! These heroic

souls risked all the peril that might accrue to themselves from this

identification with their master; they did not hesitate to come to his

cell with tidings of the great outer world, and specially of what He

was doing and saying, whose life was so mysteriously bound up with his

own. "The disciples of John told him of all these things" (Luke vii.

18, R.V.).

It was to two of these choice and steadfast friends that John confided

the question which had long been forming within his soul, and forcing

itself to the front. "And John, calling unto him two of his disciples,

sent them to the Lord, saying, Art Thou He that cometh, or look we for

another?"

I. JOHN'S MISGIVINGS.--Can this be he who, but a few months ago, had

stood in his rock-hewn pulpit, in radiant certainty? The brilliant

eastern sunlight that bathed his figure, as he stood erect amid the

thronging crowds, was the emblem and symbol of the light that filled

his soul. No misgiving crossed it. He pointed to Christ with

unfaltering certitude, saying, This is He, the Lamb of God, the Son of

the Father, the Bridegroom of the soul. How great the contrast between

that and this sorrowful cry, "Art Thou He?"

Some commentators, to save his credit, have supposed that the embassy

was sent to the Lord for the sake of the disciples, that their hearts

might be opened, their faith confirmed--and that they might have a head

and leader when he was gone. But the narrative has to be greatly

strained and dragged out of its obvious course to make it cover the

necessities of such an hypothesis. It is more natural to think that

John the Baptist was for a brief spell under a cloud, involved in

doubt, tempted to let go the confidence that had brought him such

ecstatic joy when he first saw the Dove descending and abiding.

The Bible does not scruple to tell us of the failures of its noblest

children: of Abram, thinking that the Egyptians would take his life; of

Elijah, stretching himself beneath the shadow of the desert bush, and

asking that he might die; of Thomas, who had been prepared to die with

his Lord, but could not believe that He was risen. And in this the

Spirit of God has rendered us untold service, because we learn that the

material out of which He made the greatest saints was flesh and blood

like ourselves; and that it was by Divine grace, manifested very

conspicuously towards them, that they became what they were. If only

the ladder rests on the low earth, where we live and move and have our

being, there is some hope of our climbing to stand with others who have

ascended its successive rungs and reached the starry heights. Yes, let

us believe that, for some days at least, John's mind was overcast, his

faith lost its foothold, and he seemed to be falling into bottomless

depths. _He sent them to Jesus, saying, Art Thou He that should come_?

We can easily trace this lapse of faith to three sources.

(1) _Depression_. He was the child of the desert. The winds that

swept across the waste were not freer. The boundless spaces of the

Infinite had stretched above him, in vaulted immensity, when he slept

at night or wrought through the busy days; and as he found himself

cribbed, cabined, and confined in the narrow limits of his cell, his

spirits sank. He pined with the hunger of a wild thing for liberty--to

move without the clanking fetters; to drink of the fresh water of the

Jordan, to breathe the morning air; to look on the expanse of nature.

Is it hard to understand how his deprivations reacted on his mental and

spiritual organization, or that his nervous system lost its elasticity

of tone, or that the depression of his physical life cast a shadow on

his soul?

We are all so highly strung, so delicately balanced. Often the lack of

spiritual joy and peace and power in prayer is attributable to nothing

else than our confinement in the narrow limits of a tiny room; to the

foul, gaseous air we are compelled to breathe; to our inability to get

beyond the great city, with its wilderness of brick, into the country,

with its blossoms, fields, and woodland glades. In a large number of

spiritual maladies the physician is more necessary than the minister of

religion; a holiday by the seaside or on the mountains, than a

convention.

What an infinite comfort it is to be told that God knows how easily our

nature may become jangled and out of tune. He can attribute our doubts

and fears to their right source. He knows the bow is bent to the point

of breaking, and the string strained to its utmost tension. He does

not rebuke his servants when they cast themselves under juniper bushes,

and ask to die; but sends them food and sleep. And when they send from

their prisons, saying, Art Thou He? there is no word of rebuke, but of

tender encouragement and instruction.

(2) _Disappointment_. When first consigned to prison, he had expected

every day that Jesus would in some way deliver him. Was He not the

opener of prison-doors? Was not all power at his disposal? Did He not

wield the sceptre of the house of David? Surely He would not let his

faithful follower lie in the despair of that dark dungeon! In that

first sermon at Nazareth, of which he had been informed, was it not

expressly stated to be part of the Divine programme, for which He had

been anointed, that He would open prison-doors, and proclaim liberty to

captives? He would surely then send his angels to open his

prison-doors, and lead him forth into the light!

But the weeks grew to months, and still no help came. It was

inexplicable to John's honest heart, and suggested the fear that he had

been mistaken after all. We can sympathize in this also. Often in our

lives we have counted on God's interfering to deliver us from some

intolerable sorrow. With ears alert, and our heart throbbing with

expectancy, we have lain in our prison-cell listening for the first

faint footfall of the angel; but the weary hours have passed without

bringing him, and we have questioned whether God were mindful of his

own; whether prayer prevailed; whether the promises were to be

literally appropriated by us?

(3) _Partial views of Christ_. "John heard in the prison the works of

Jesus." They were wholly beneficent and gentle.

"What has He done since last you were here?"

"He has laid his hands on a few sick folk, and healed them; has

gathered a number of children to his arms, and blessed them; has sat on

the mountain, and spoken of rest and peace and blessedness."

"Yes; good. But what more?"

"A woman touched the hem of his garment, and trembled, and confessed,

and went away healed."

"Good! But what more?"

"Well, there were some blind men, and He laid his hands on them, and

they saw."

"Is that all? Has He not used the fan to winnow the wheat, and the

fire to burn up the chaff? This is what I was expecting, and what I

have been taught to expect by Isaiah and the rest of the prophets. I

cannot understand it. This quiet, gentle life of benevolence is

outside my calculations. There must be some mistake. Go and ask Him

whether we should expect _another_, made in a different mould, and who

shall be as the fire, the earthquake, the tempest, while He is as the

still small voice."

John had partial views of the Christ--he thought of Him only as the

Avenger of sin, the Maker of revolution, the dread Judge of all. There

was apparently no room in his conception for the gentler, sweeter,

tenderer aspects of his Master's nature. And for want of a clearer

understanding of what God by the mouth of his holy prophets had spoken

since the world began, he fell into this Slough of Despond.

It was a grievous pity; yet let us not blame him too vehemently, lest

we blame ourselves. Is not this what we do? We form a notion of God,

partly from what we think He ought to be, partly from some distorted

notions we have derived from others; and then because God fails to

realize our conception, we begin to doubt. We think, for instance,

that if there be a righteous God, He will not permit wrong to triumph;

little children to suffer for the sins of their parents; the innocent

to be trodden beneath the foot of the oppressor and the proud; or the

dumb creatures to be tortured in the supposed interest of medical

science. Surely God will step out of his hiding-place and open all

prisons, emancipate all captives, and wave a hand of benediction over

all creation. Thus we think and say; and then, because the world still

groans and travails, we question whether God is in his high heaven.

Like John, men have a notion, founded on some faulty knowledge of

Scripture, that God will act in a certain preconceived way, in the

thunder, the whirlwind, and the fire; and when God does not, but

pursues his tender, gentle ministries, descending in summer showers,

speaking in soft, still tones, distilling in the dew-drops, winning his

empire over men by love, they say--"Is this He?"

II. THE LORD'S REPLY.--"In that hour He cured many of diseases, and

plagues, and evil spirits; and on many that were blind He bestowed

sight." Through the long hours of the day, the disciples stood in the

crowd, while the pitiable train of sick and demon-possessed passed

before the Saviour, coming in every stage of need, and going away

cleansed and saved. Even the dead were raised. And at the close the

Master turned to them, and with a deep significance in his tone, said,

"Go your way, and tell John what things ye have seen and heard; the

blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and

the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good tidings

preached to them. And blessed is he, whosoever shall find none

occasion of stumbling in Me."

(1) _It was Indirect_. He did not say, I am He that was to come, and

there is no need to look for another. Had He done so, He might have

answered John's intellect, but not his heart. After a few hours the

assurance would have waxed dim, and he would have questioned again. He

might have wondered whether Jesus were not Himself deceived. One

question always leads to another, so long as the heart is unsatisfied;

hence the refusal on the part of our Lord to answer the question, and

his evident determination to allay the restlessness and disquietude of

the heart that throbbed beneath.

God might, had He so willed, have written in starry characters across

the sky the Divine words, "I am Jehovah, and ye shall have no other

gods beside Me"; or He might have flashed it, and obliterated it to

flash it again, as the electric cylinders which serve the purposes of

advertisements in our large cities by night. This might have awed the

intellect, but it would not have convinced the heart. Were this God's

method, we should miss the benediction on those who have not seen and

yet have believed. We should miss the discipline of waiting until our

doubts are dissolved by the Spirit of God. The intellect might be

temporarily overpowered with the evidence; but the soul, the heart, and

the spirit, would miss the true knowledge that comes through purity,

faith, and waiting upon God--the deepest knowledge of all. Besides,

though one were to rise from the dead, and come to men with the awe of

the vision of the other world stamped on his face, they would not

believe. The evidence of the unseen and eternal must be given, not to

the startled physical sense, but to the soul. Some other deeper method

must be adopted; the heart must be taught to wait, trust, and accept

those deep intuitions and revelations which establish the being of God.

(2) _The Answer was Mysterious_. Surely, if He were able to do so

much, He could do more. The power that healed the sick and lame and

blind, and cast out demons, could surely deliver John. It made his

heart the more wistful, to hear of these displays of power. He had to

learn that the Lord healed these poor folks so easily because the light

soil of their nature could not bear the richer harvests; because their

soul could not stand the cutting through which alone the brilliant

facets which were possible to his could be secured. It was because

John was a royal soul, the greatest of woman born, because his nature

was capable of yielding the best results to the Divine culture, that he

was kept waiting, whilst others caught up the blessing and went away

healed. Only three months remained of life, and in these the

discipline of patience and doubt must do their perfect work.

That is where you have made a mistake. You have thought God was hard

on you, that He would help everybody but you; but you have not

understood that your nature was so dear to God, and so precious in his

sight, and so capable of the greatest development, that God loved you

too much to let you off so lightly, and give you what you wanted, and

send you on your way. God could have given you sight, made that lame

foot well, restored the child to health, and opened the iron prison

door of your circumstances. _He could_; but for all eternity you will

thank Him He did not, because you are capable of something else. We

are kept waiting through the long years--not that He loves us less, but

more; not that He refuses what we ask, but that in the long strain and

tension He is making us partakers of his blessedness. John's nature

would presently yield a martyr and win a martyr's crown: was not that

reason enough for not giving him at once the deliverance he sought?

(3) _The Answer was Sufficient_. Together with the works of

beneficence, the Lord drew John's attention to words he seemed in

danger of forgetting; "Strengthen ye the weak hands, and confirm the

feeble knees. Say to them that are of a fearful heart, Be strong; fear

not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of

God. He will come and save you. Then the eyes of the blind shall be

opened; and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped; then shall the

lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb shall sing; for in

the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert."

"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." The Lord strove to convince the

questioner that his views were too partial and limited, and to send him

back to a more comprehensive study of the old Scriptures. It was as

though Jesus said, "Go to your master, and tell him to take again the

ancient prophecy and study it. He has taken the sterner predictions to

the neglect of the gentler, softer ones. It is true that I am to

proclaim the day of vengeance; but first I must reveal the acceptable

year. It is true that I am to come as a Mighty One, and my arm shall

rule for Me; but it is also true that I am to feed my flock like a

Shepherd, and gather the lambs in my arm."

We make the same mistake. We have but a partial view of Christ, and

need to get back to the Bible afresh, and study anew its comprehensive

words; then we shall come to understand that the present is the time of

the hiding of his power, the time of waiting, the time of the gentler

ministries. Some day He will gird on his sword; some day He will

winnow his floor; some day He will ride in a chariot of flame; some day

He will sit upon the throne and judge those who oppress the innocent

and take advantage of the poor. We have not yet seen the end of the

Lord: we have not all the evidence. This is our mistake. But our

Saviour is offering us every day evidences of his Divine and loving

power. Last week I saw Him raise the dead; yesterday, before my eyes,

He struck the chains from a prisoner; at this hour He is giving sight

to the blind; to-morrow He will cast out demons. The world is full of

evidences of his gracious and Divine power. They are not so striking

and masterful as deeds of judgment and wrath might be--they need a

quicker eye, a purer heart to discern; but they are not less

significant of the fact that He liveth who was dead, and that He is

alive for evermore. And these are sufficient, not only because of the

transformations which are effected, but because of their moral quality,

to show that there is One within the vail who lives in the power of an

indissoluble life.

III. A NEW BEATITUDE.--"Blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended

in Me." Our Lord put within the reach of his noble Forerunner the

blessedness of those who have not seen and yet have believed; of those

who trust though they are slain; of those who wait the Lord's leisure;

and of those who cannot understand his dealings, but rest in what they

know of his heart. This is the beatitude of the unoffended, of those

who do not stumble over the mystery of God's dealings with their life.

This blessedness is within our reach also. There are times when we are

overpowered with the mystery of life and nature. The world is so full

of pain and sorrow, the litany of its need is so sad and pitiful,

strong hearts are breaking under an intolerable load; while the battle

seems only to the strong and the race to those who, by some mysterious

providence, come of a healthy, though not specially moral or religious,

stock. And if the incidence of pain and sorrow on the world be

explained by its ungodliness, why does nature groan and travail? why

are the forest glades turned into a very shambles? why does creation

seem to achieve itself through the terrific struggle for survival?

God's children are sometimes the most bitterly tried. For them the

fires are heated seven times; days of weariness and nights of pain are

appointed them; they suffer, not only at the hand of man, but it seems

as though God Himself were turned against them, to become their enemy.

The heavens seem as brass to their cries and tears, and the enemy has

reason to challenge them with the taunt, "Where is now your God!" The

waters of a full cup are wrung out in days like these; and the cry is

extorted, "How long, O Lord, how long?"

You and I have been in this plight. We have said, "Hath God forgotten

to be gracious? Has He in anger shut up his tender mercies?" From our

prison-cell we send up the appeal to our Brother in the glory: "Help

us; for if Thou leavest us to our fate, we shall question if Thou art

He." We are tempted to stumbling. We are like to fall over the

mysteries of God's dealings with us. We are more able than ever before

to appreciate the standpoint occupied by Job's wife, when she said to

her husband, "Curse God, and die."

Then we have the chance of inheriting a new beatitude. By refusing to

bend under the mighty hand of God--questioning, chafing, murmuring--we

miss the door which would admit us into rich and unalloyed happiness.

We fumble about the latch, but it is not lifted. But if we will quiet

our souls like a weaned child, anointing our heads, and washing our

faces, light will break in on us as from the eternal morning; the peace

of God will keep our hearts and minds, and we shall enter on the

blessedness which our Lord unfolded before the gaze of his faithful

Forerunner.