My Dear Father:
In these letters to you I hope you will pardon the details which I
enter into, for it is my earnest desire that you should see everything
with my eyes, as if you had been present with me, in order that you may
be able to judge of the remarkable events of which I have undertaken to
give you a complete history.
After Rabbi Amos had reached the house in the wheat fields of Gilgal,
he kindly told us that he was ready to accompany my cousin Mary and
myself to the Jordan to hear the prophet. We had not ridden a great way
from the house when we overtook two men on foot, with staves in their
hands and wallets upon their shoulders. As we passed, one of them bowed
with respect to Rabbi Amos, who, from his rank as a priest and his
venerable appearance, always commands the homage of all men.
"Whither goest thou at such a pace, friend Matthew?" said Rabbi Amos,
returning his salutation. "Canst thou leave thy tax-gathering these
busy times to go into the wilderness?"
The person, who was a man of stout figure, with dark hair and beard
and a look of intelligence, but whose costume was plain and ill-worn,
smiled and answered:
"If a man would find the payers of tribute nowadays, good master, he
must not stay at home, forsooth, but go into the wilderness of Jordan.
Verily, this new prophet emptieth our towns, and we publicans must
remain idle in our seat of customs or go with the tide."
"And thinkest thou," continued my uncle, as the two men walked along by
the side of his mule, "thinkest thou this prophet is a true son of the
prophets?"
"He works no miracles, unless indeed the power of his preaching be a
miracle," answered Matthew.
"This man is an impostor. There can be no prophet unless he prove his
mission by miracles," suddenly said the companion of Matthew, speaking
up abruptly in a sharp and unpleasing voice. Now neither Mary nor I
liked the face of this man from the first. He was low in height, was
ill-featured, and his attire was mean; but he had a suspicious air,
combined with a cringing deference to Rabbi Amos, that made me think
he must be a hypocrite. He smiled with his mouth and teeth, but at
the same time looked sinister out of his eyes. An air of humility
seemed to me to be put on to conceal the pride and wickedness of his
character. He looked like a man who could artfully deceive to gain his
selfish ends, and who would kneel to you to overturn you. The sound of
his voice confirmed my first impression of him. Upon speaking, Rabbi
Amos fixed his eyes upon him, as if he did not like the manner of his
breaking in upon the conversation.
"What is thy companion's name, friend Matthew?" he asked aside, as the
other walked on ahead.
"His name is Judas, called Iscariot. He hath been engaged by me to bear
the moneys I collect in the country villages; and as we are to gather
taxes both at Gilgal and Bethabara, he cometh with me."
At length, dear father, after hastening the speed of our mules and
riding pleasantly for two hours along the verdant banks of Jordan, we
came in sight of a square tower of stone, peering above the trees
which marked the site of the village of Bethabara. "That tower," said
Rabbi Amos, "stands over a cave in which Elijah long dwelt. From the
summit of yonder hill, at the left, the prophet was caught up and
ascended to heaven upon the chariot of fire; and near where you see the
single rock, Elisha divided Jordan with the fallen mantle left him by
the ascending prophet of God."
While my eyes were fixed upon the hill, and my imagination presented to
me Elijah standing upon the chariot of heaven, disappearing amid the
clouds, there was an opening in the wood before us, and all at once
we beheld a scene that made my heart cease to beat, it was so new and
wonderful. Near the place the winding river takes a broad curve, and
the opposite village of Bethabara lies in the hollow of it, forming
the center of half a circle. This widely curving shore was alive with
the human heads that filled it. And of this vast multitude every eye
was concentrated upon the prophet. He was standing near the opposite
shore (the Jordan here is very narrow and can be forded), in the
water, addressing the countless assembly that stood opposite to and
half encircling him. Near him, behind, and on either side, sat his
disciples, upon the bank, at least a hundred in number, chiefly young
men.
The clear voice of the youthful prophet of the wilderness fell
distinctly on our ears, so great was the stillness of the vast
audience. To my surprise I saw John, the cousin of Mary, standing
close to the prophet, and listening with the deepest and most reverent
attention to every syllable he uttered. The subject of the prophet's
discourse was as before, and as always, the coming of the Messias. Oh,
that I could give you, my dear father, the faintest idea of the power
and eloquence of his language!
"Do you ask me if the blood of bulls and goats take not away sin? I
answer and say unto you, that the Lord hath said that he delighteth not
in these rivers of blood," he continued earnestly.
"For what, then, great prophet," asked one of the chief Levites, who
stood near him, "for what, then, are the sacrifices ordained by the
law of Moses? for what then the altar in the Temple, and the daily
sacrifice of the lamb?"
"For what?" repeated the prophet, with his eyes beaming with the
earnest light of inspiration; "for what but as types and shadows of
the real and true sacrifice appointed by God from the foundation of the
world? Think ye a man can give the lamb of his flock for himself? Nay,
men of Israel, the day has come when your eyes shall be opened. The
hour is at hand when the true meaning of the daily sacrifice shall be
understood. Lo, the Messiah cometh, and ye shall see and believe!"
There now came several persons towards him who desired baptism. While
he was baptizing these persons, both men and women, I saw appear
on a little mound near the tower, Lazarus, the brother of Martha,
accompanied by a man of about his own years, of an indescribable
dignity and grace of aspect, combined with an air of benevolence and
peace that at once attracted me.
He was wrapped in a vesture of dark blue cloth, which was folded about
his form; his head was bare, and his hair flowed like a Nazarene's down
about his shoulders. He seemed so unlike all other men, in a certain
majesty united with sweetness that marked his whole air, that I could
not withdraw my gaze from him.
The prophet at the same moment rested his eyes upon him, and as he did
so, I saw a change come over his face, as if he had seen an angel. His
eyes shone with unearthly brilliancy; his lips parted as if he would
speak, yet had lost the power; and then, with his right hand stretched
forth towards the noble stranger, he stood for a moment like a statue.
All eyes followed his and the direction of his stretched-out arm.
Suddenly he exclaimed, and oh, how like the trumpet of Horeb his voice
rang!--
"Behold!"
There was not a face in that vast multitude that was not directed
towards the little eminence.
"Ye have asked wherefore is slain the daily lamb," continued the
prophet. "The day has come when the lamb of sacrifice, which can take
away no sin, shall cease. Behold!" And here he stretched forth both
arms towards the dignified stranger. "Behold him who taketh away the
transgressions of men! He it is who, coming after me, is preferred
before me. He it is to whom I bear witness, as the Messiah, the Son of
the Highest! There stands the Christ of God! the only true Lamb, whose
blood can take away the iniquities of us all. He hath dwelt among you,
he hath walked your streets, he hath sat in your homes, and I knew him
not, till I now behold on him the sign of the Messiah!"
When the prophet had thus spoken in a voice that thrilled to every
bosom, we beheld the august stranger advance towards the prophet.
He moved on alone. Lazarus had fallen prostrate on his face. As
he continued to come forward, all was expectation in the immense
multitude. The mass of heads swayed this way and that, to get a sight
of his face, which I could see was serene, but pale and earnest. John,
the cousin of Mary, seeing him approach, lowly knelt, and bowed his
head in reverential awe and love. Those who stood between him and the
prophet moved involuntarily apart, and left an open path for him to the
water-side. He walked at a slow and even pace, with an air of humility
veiling the native dignity of his kingly port.
The prophet, on seeing him come near, regarded him, as it seemed to me,
with far more awe than all others.
"What wouldst thou of thy servant, O Messiah, Prophet of God, mighty
to save?" he said, in tremulous tones, as the stranger came even some
paces into the water towards him.
"To be baptized of thee," answered the Christ, in a still, quiet voice,
that was heard to the remotest bounds of the crowd. Never, oh, never
shall I forget the sounds of that voice, as it fell upon my ears!
"I have need to be baptized of thee; and comest thou to me?" answered
the prophet, with the lowliest humility and awe of manner and with
looks expressive of his amazement.
"It becometh us to fulfill all righteousness," answered Messiah,
mildly; and when he had said this, the prophet, though still with a
manner of doubt, and with the holiest reverence, administered then unto
him, in the sight of all the people, the like baptism which he had
administered to his disciples.
And now, my dear father, comes to be related the most extraordinary
thing that ever took place in Israel since the Law was given from Sinai.
No sooner did the baptized stranger go up out of the water, than there
was heard above all our heads a noise as of rolling thunder, although
the sky was cloudless; and when in great fear we looked up, we beheld
a dazzling glory far brighter than the sun, and from the midst of this
celestial splendor there darted with arrowy velocity a ray of light
which descended and lit upon the head of the Christ. Some of the
people said it thundered, and others that it lightened, but judge of
the amazement and admiration of all, and the dread awe that shook every
soul when, amid the glory above his head, was seen the form of a dove
of fire, with outspread wings overshadowing him as it were, and from
the heavens what was supposed to be thunder shaped itself into a voice,
which uttered these words in the hearing of every ear:
"This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased!"
At hearing these words from the skies a great part of the multitude
fell on their faces. Every cheek was pale, and each man gazed on his
neighbor in wonder and fear. When the majestic, yet terrible, voice
had given utterance to these words, the light disappeared, the dove
re-ascended to the skies and was lost to sight, leaving a halo of
divine glory resting upon the head of this "Son of God." He alone
seemed unmoved and calm amid all this awful scene, and going up the
river bank, disappeared mysteriously and suddenly from my earnest
gaze. At length, when men came a little to themselves, and would gaze
on him whom all knew now to be the Christ, no one could find him, so
effectually had he withdrawn himself from their homage.
Your affectionate,
Adina.