(MATTHEW XIV. 12.)
"When some beloved voice, that was to you
Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,
And silence, against which you dare not cry,
Aches round you like a strong disease and new,--
What hope, what help, what music will undo
That silence to your sense? Not friendship's sigh,
Not reason's subtle count.... Nay, none of these!
Speak, Thou availing Christ!--and fill this pause."
E. B. BROWNING.
"Tell Jesus"--The Sin-Bearer--The Resurrection of Jesus--The Followers
of John, and of Jesus--"He is Risen!"
We have beheld the ghastly deed with which Herod's feast ended--the
golden charger, on which lay the freshly-dissevered head of the
Baptist, borne by Salome to her mother, that the two might gloat on it
together. Josephus says that the body was cast over the castle wall,
and lay for a time unburied. Whether that were so, we cannot tell;
but, in some way, John's disciples heard of the ghastly tragedy, which
had closed their master's life, and they came to the precincts of the
castle to gather up the body as it lay dishonoured on the ground, or
ventured into the very jaws of death to request that it might be given
to them. In either case, it was a brave thing for them to do; an
altogether heroic exploit, which may be classed in the same category
with that of the men of Jabesh-Gilead, who travelled all night through
the country infested by the Philistines to rescue the bodies of Saul
and his sons from the temple of Bethshan.
The headless body was then borne to a grave, either in the grim, gaunt
hills of Moab, or in that little village, away on the southern slopes
of the Judaean hills, where, some thirty years before, the aged pair
had rejoiced over the growing lad. God knows where that grave lies;
and some day it will yield up to honour and glory the body which was
sown in weakness and corruption.
Having performed the last sad rites, the disciples "went and told
Jesus." Every mourner should go along the path they trod, to the same
gentle and tender Comforter; and if any who read these words have
placed within the narrow confines of a grave the precious remains of
those dearer than life, let them follow where John's disciples have
preceded them, to the one Heart of all others in the universe which is
able to sympathize and help; because it also has sorrowed unto tears at
the grave of its beloved, even though it throbbed with the fulness of
the mighty God. Go, and tell Jesus!
The telling will bring relief. Though the great High-Priest knows all
the story, He loves to hear it told, because of the relief which the
recital necessarily imparts to the surcharged soul. He will tell you
that your brother shall rise again; that your child is safe in the
flowery meadows of Paradise; that those whom you have loved and lost
are engaged in high service amid the ministries of eternity; that every
time-beat is bringing nearer the moment of inseparable union.
It is not, however, on these details that we desire to dwell, but to
use the scenes before us as a background and contrast to magnify
certain features in the death, grave, and abiding influence of Jesus of
Nazareth.
I. CONTRAST THE DEATH OF JOHN AND THAT OF JESUS.--There were many
points of similarity between their careers. These two rivers sprang
from the same source, in a quiet glen far up among the hills; lay in
deep lagoons during their earlier course; leapt down in the same mighty
torrent when their time had come; and for the first few miles watered
the same tract of country.
It would be possible to enumerate a large number of identical facts of
the life-courses of the two cousins. Their births were announced, and
their ministries anticipated, under very special circumstances; Mary
was unmarried, and Elisabeth past age--and an angel of the Lord came to
each. John seemed, to the superficial view, the stronger and mightier
of the two; but Jesus followed close behind and took up a similar
burden, as He bade the people repent and believe the Gospel. They were
alike in attending no prophetic school, and avoiding each of the great
Jewish sects. Neither Hillel nor Shammai could claim them. They had
no ecclesiastical connections; they stood aloof from the Pharisees and
Sadducees, the Herodians and Essenes. They attracted similar
attention, gathered the same crowds, and protested against the same
sins. Rearing the same standard, they summoned men from formality and
hypocrisy to righteousness and reality. They incurred the same hatred
on the part of the religious leaders of their nation, and suffered
violent deaths--the one beneath the headsman's blade in the dungeons of
Herod's castle, the other on the cross, at the hand of Pilate and the
Roman soldiers. Each suffered a death of violence at the hand of men
whom he had lived to succour; each died when the life-blood throbbed
with young manhood's prime, and while there was sweet fragrance as of
early summer; each was loved and mourned by a little handful of devoted
followers.
But there the similarity ends, and the contrast begins. With John, it
was the tragic close of a great and epoch-making career. When he died
men said--Alas! a prophet's voice is silenced. What a pity that in a
moment of passion the tyrant took his life! Let him sleep! Rest will
be sweet to one who expended his young strength with such spendthrift
extravagance! Such men are rare! Ages flower thus but once, and then
years of barrenness! But as we turn to the death of Jesus, other
feelings than those of pity or regret master us. We are neither
surprised, nor altogether sorry. We do not recognise that there is in
any sense an end of his work--rather it is the beginning. The corn of
wheat has fallen into the ground to die, that it may not abide alone,
but bear much fruit. Here, at the Cross, is the head of waters, rising
from unknown depths, which are to heal the nations; here the sacrifice
is being offered which is to expiate the sin of man, and bring peace to
myriads of penitents; here the last Adam at the tree undoes the deadly
work wrought by the first at another tree. This is no mere martyr's
last agony; but a sacrifice, premeditated, prearranged, the effects of
which have already been prevalent in securing the remission of sins
done aforetime. This is an event for which millenniums have been
preparing, and to which millenniums shall look back. John's death
affected no destiny but his own; the death of Jesus has affected the
destiny of our race. As his forerunner explained, He was the Lamb of
God who bore away the sin of the world. The Lord hath laid on Him the
iniquity of us all.
But there is another contrast. In the case of John, the martyr had no
control on his destiny; he could not order the course of events; there
was no alternative but to submit. When he opened his ministry, he had
no thought that such a fate would befall. As he stood boldly forth
upon his rock-hewn pulpit, and preached to the eager crowds, do you
suppose that the idea ever flashed across his mind that his path,
carpeted with flowers and lined on either side with applause, could end
in the loneliness of a desert track, lying across a barren waste where
no man dwelt or came, and where the vast expanse engulphs the last cry
of the perishing? But, from the first, Jesus meant to die. If, eight
centuries ago, you had seen the first outlines drawn of the Cologne
Cathedral, whose noble structure has been brought to completion within
only the last decades, you would have been convinced that the completed
fabric would enclose a cross; so the life of Jesus, from the earliest,
portended Calvary. He had received power and commandment from the
Father to lay down his life. For this cause He was born, and for this
He came into the world. Others die because they have been born: Jesus
was born that He might die.
In his great picture of the Carpenter's shop, Millais depicts the
shadow of the Cross, flung back by the growing lad, on the wall,
strongly-defined in the clear oriental light. Mary beholds it with a
look of horror on her face. The thought is a true one. From the
earliest, the Cross cast its shadow over the life of the Son of Man.
He was never deceived as to his ultimate destiny. He told Nicodemus
that He must be lifted up. He knew that as the Good Shepherd He would
have to give his life for the sheep. He assured his disciples that He
would be delivered up to the chief priests and scribes, who would
condemn Him to death, crucify, and slay. Man does not need primarily
the teacher, the example, nor the miracle-worker; but the Saviour who
can stand in his stead, and put away his sin by the sacrifice of
Himself. When the soul is burdened with the weight of its sins, and
the conscience is ill at ease, whither can we turn save to the Cross,
on which the Prince of Glory died!
What answer and explanation can be given to account for the marvellous
spell that the Cross of Christ exerts over the hearts of men? You
cannot trace it to the influence of early association merely, or to the
effect of heredity, or to the fact of our having come of generations
which have turned to the green hill far away, in life and death;
because if you take the preaching of the Cross to savage and heathen
tribes, who have no advantage of Christian centuries behind them,
whenever you begin to explain its significance, the sob of the soul is
hushed, and its dread dissipated. Tears of anguish are changed into
tears of penitence. The shuttles of a new hope begin to weave the
garments of a new purity. No other death affects us thus or effects so
immediate a transformation. And may not this be cited as the proof
that the death of Jesus is unique; the supreme act of love; the gift of
that Father-heart which knew the need of the world, and the only way of
appeasing it?
II. CONTRAST THE GRAVE OF JOHN AND THAT OF JESUS.--Men have alleged
that the Lord did not really rise from the dead, and that the tale of
his resurrection, if it were not a fabrication, was the elaboration of
a myth. But neither of these alternatives will bear investigation. On
the one hand, it is absurd to suppose that the temple of truth could be
erected on the quagmire and morass of falsehood--impossible to believe
that the one system in the world of mind which has attracted the true
to its allegiance, and been the stimulus of truth-seeking throughout
the ages, can have originated in a tissue of deliberate falsehoods. On
the other hand, it is a demonstrated impossibility that a myth could
have found time to grow into the appearance of substantial fact during
the short interval which elapsed between the death of Christ and the
first historical traces of the Church.
In this connection, it is interesting to consider one sentence dropped
by the sacred chronicler. He tells us, that when Herod heard of the
works of Jesus, he said immediately, "It is John the Baptist--he is
risen from the dead." Herod could not believe that that mighty
personality was quenched, even for this life, by that one blow of the
executioner's sword. Surely he had risen! There was a feverish dread
that he would yet be confronted by the murdered man, whose face haunted
his dreams. His courtiers, ready to take the monarch's cue, would be
equally credulous. From one to another the surmise would pass--"John
the Baptist is risen from the dead."
Why, then, did that myth not spread, until it became universally
accredited? Ah, there was no chance of such a thing, for the simple
reason that there was the grave of John the Baptist to disprove it. If
Herod had seriously believed it, or the disciples of John attempted to
spread it, nothing would have been easier than to exhume the body from
its sepulture, and produce the ghastly but indubitable refutation of
the royal delusion.
When the statement began to spread and gain credence that Christ had
risen from the dead; when Peter and John stood up and affirmed that He
was living at the right hand of God; if it had been a mere surmise, the
fond delusion of loyal and faithful hearts, an hallucination of two or
three hysterical women--would it not have been easy for the enemies of
Christianity to go forthwith to the grave in the garden of Joseph, and
produce the body of the Crucified, with the marks of the nails in hands
and feet? Why did they not do it? If it be said that it could not be
produced, because it had been taken away, let this further question be
answered: Who had taken it away? Not his friends; for they would have
taken the cerements and wrappings with which Joseph and Nicodemus had
enswathed it. Not his enemies; for they would have been only too glad
to produce it. What glee in the grim faces of Caiaphas and Annas, if
at the meeting of the Sanhedrim, called to deal with the new heresy,
there could have been given some irrefragable proof that the body of
Jesus was still sepulchred, if not in Joseph's tomb, yet somewhere
else, to which their emissaries had conveyed it!
It is difficult to exaggerate the significance and force of this
contrast. And the devout soul cannot but derive comfort from comparing
the allegation of the superstitious king, which could have been so
easily refuted by the production of the Baptist's body, with that of
the disciples, which was confirmed and attested by the condition of the
grave which, in spite of the watch and ward of the Roman soldiers, had
been despoiled of its prey on the morning of the third day. Herod
expected John to rise, and gave his royal authority to the rumour of
his resurrection; but it fell to the ground still-born. The disciples
did not expect Jesus to rise. They stoutly held that the women were
mistaken, when they brought to them the assurance that it was even so.
But as the hours passed, the tidings of the empty grave were
corroborated by the vision of the Risen Lord, and they were convinced
that He who was crucified in weakness was living by the power of God.
There could, henceforth, be no hesitation in their message to the
world. "The God of our fathers hath glorified his Son Jesus, whom ye
denied in the presence of Pilate, when he was determined to let Him
go.... But ye killed the Prince of Life, whom God raised from the
dead." Thank God, we have not followed cunningly-devised fables. "Now
is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits of them that
slept. And as by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of
the dead."
III. THE CONTRAST BETWEEN THE EFFECTS OF THEIR TWO DEATHS ON THE
FOLLOWERS OF JOHN THE BAPTIST AND OF JESUS RESPECTIVELY.--What a
picture for an artist of sacred subjects is presented by the
performance of the last rites to the remains of the great Forerunner!
There was probably neither a Joseph nor a Nicodemus among his
disciples; certainly no Magdalene nor mother. Devout men bore him to
his grave, and made great lamentation over him. He had taught them to
pray, to know God, to prepare for the Kingdom of God. They had also
fasted oft beneath his suggestion; but they were destined to experience
what fasting meant, after a new fashion, now that their leader was
taken away from them.
The little band broke up at his grave. Farewell! they said to him;
farewell to their ministry and mission; farewell to one another. "I go
back to my boats and fishing-nets," said one; and "I to my farm," said
another; and "We shall go and join Jesus of Nazareth," said the rest.
"Good-bye!" "Good-bye!" And so the little band separated, never to
meet in a common corporate existence again.
When Jesus lay in his grave, this process of disintegration began at
once among his followers also. The women went to embalm Him; the men
were apart. Peter and John broke off together--at least they ran
together to the sepulchre; but where were the rest? Two walked to
Emmaus apart; whilst Thomas was not with them when Jesus came on the
evening of Easter Day. As soon as the breath leaves the body
disintegration begins; and when Jesus was dead, as they supposed, the
same process began to show itself. Soon Peter would have been back in
Gennesaret; Nathanael beneath his fig-tree, Luke in his dispensary, and
Matthew at his toll-booth.
What arrested that process and made it impossible? Why did the day,
which began with a certain amount of separation and decay, end with a
closer consolidation than ever, so that they were, for the most part,
gathered in the upper room; and forty days after they were all with one
accord in one place? Why was it that they who had been like timid
deer, before He died, became as lions against the storm of Pharisaic
hate, and stronger as the weeks passed?
There is only one answer to these questions. The followers of Jesus
were convinced by irrefragable proofs that their Master was living at
the right hand of power; nay, that He was with them all the
days--nearer them than ever before, as much their Head and Leader as at
any previous moment. When the shepherd is smitten, the flock is
scattered; and this flock was not scattered, because the Shepherd had
recovered from his mortal wound, and was alive for evermore.
And surely the evidence which sufficed for them is enough for us.
Again and again, in dark hours, when I have longed to have the
demonstration of sense added to that of faith, it has been an untold
comfort to feel that sufficient evidence was given to the Lord's
disciples to persuade them against their contrary expectations and
unbelief; to hold them together in spite of every possible inducement
to disperse, and to transform a number of units into the Church,
against which the gates of hell have not been able to prevail. If they
were convinced, we may be. If their eyes beheld and their hands
touched the body of the risen Lord, we may be of good cheer. Their
behaviour proves that they were thoroughly convinced. They acted as
only those can act whose feet are on a rock. They knew whom they had
believed; and they had no doubt that He would perfect the work which He
had begun. What He had begun in the flesh, He would perfect in the
Spirit.
In after days Peter spoke of Him as the Prince, or File-leader of Life;
and suggests the conception, that through all the ages He is marching
on through the gates of death and the grave, unlocking them for us, and
opening the pathway into the realms of more and more abundant life.
Let us follow Him. It is not for us to linger around the grave: even
John's disciples forbore to do this. But let us join ourselves by
faith with our Prince and Leader, our Head and Captain, as He waits to
succour us from the excellent glory, sure that where He is, we too
shall be; but in the meanwhile we are assured that He is not in the
grave, where loving hands laid Him, but risen, ascended, glorified--our
Emmanuel, our Bridegroom, our Love and Life. "The Lord is my Shepherd,
I shall not want: ... He leadeth me, ... He maketh me to lie down;
... He restoreth my soul.... Though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, ... Thou _art_ with me."