Teaching was the great business of the life of Christ during the days
of his public ministry. He was _sent_ to teach and to preach. The
speaker in the book of Job was thinking of this Great Teacher when he
asked--"_Who teacheth like him_?" Job xxxvi: 22. And it was he who
was in the Psalmist's mind when he spoke of the "good, and upright
Lord" who would teach sinners, if they were meek, how to walk in his
ways. Ps. xxv: 8-9. And he is the Redeemer, of whom the prophet
Isaiah was telling when he said--He would "_teach us to profit_, and
_would lead us by the way that we should go_." And thus we know how
true was what Nicodemus said of him, that "he was a _teacher sent
from God_." John iii: 2. Thus what was said of Jesus, before he came
into our world, would naturally lead us to expect to find him
occupied in teaching. And so he _was_ occupied, all through the days
of his public ministry. St. Matthew tells us that--"Jesus went about
all Galilee, _teaching_ in their synagogues." Ch. iv: 23. Further on
in his gospel he tells us again that "Jesus went about all the
cities, and villages, teaching in their synagogues." Ch. ix: 35. When
on his trial before Pilate, his enemies brought it as a charge
against him that he had been--"_teaching_ throughout all Jewry." Luke
xxiii: 5. We read in one place that--"the elders of the people came
unto him _as he was teaching_." Matt. xxi: 23. Jesus himself gave
this account of his life work to his enemies--"I sat _daily_ with you
_teaching_ in the temple." Matt. xxvi: 55. And so we come now to look
at the life of Christ from this point of view--as a Teacher. There
never was such a Teacher. We do not wonder at the effect of his
teaching of which we read in St. John vii: 46, when the chief priests
sent some of their officers to take him prisoner, and bring him unto
them; the officers went, and joined the crowd that was listening to
his preaching. His words had such a strange effect on them that they
could not think of touching him. So they went back to their masters
without doing what they had been sent to do. "And when the chief
priests and Pharisees said unto them--Why have ye not brought him?
The officers answered, _Never man spake like this man_." Jesus was
indeed--_The Great Teacher_. In this light we are now to look at him.
And as we do this we shall find that there were _five_ great things
about his teaching which made him different from any other teacher
the world has ever known.
_In the first place Jesus may well be called the Great Teacher,
because of the_--GREAT BLESSINGS--_of which he came to tell_.
We find some of these spoken of at the opening of his first great
sermon to his disciples, called "The Sermon on the Mount." This is
the most wonderful sermon that ever was preached. Jesus began it by
telling about some of the great blessings he had brought down from
heaven for poor sinful creatures such as we are. The sermon begins in
the fifth chapter of St. Matthew, and the first twelve verses of the
chapter are occupied in speaking of these blessings. As soon as he
opened his mouth and began to speak a stream of blessings flowed out.
It was a beautiful thought, on this subject, which a boy in
Sunday-school once had. The teacher had been talking to his class
about the beginning of this sermon on the mount. He had spoken of the
sweetness of the words of Jesus, when "He opened his mouth and
taught" his disciples. "How pleasant it must have been, my dear
boys," said he, "to have seen the blessed Saviour, and to have heard
him speak!"
A serious-minded little fellow in the class said, "Teacher, don't you
think that when Jesus opened his mouth, and began to speak to his
disciples, it must have been like taking the stopper out of a scent
bottle?" I cannot tell whether this boy had ever read the words of
Solomon or not; but he had just the same idea that was in his mind
when he said of this "Great Teacher," "thy name is _as ointment
poured forth_." Cant, i: 3. We perceive the fragrance of this
ointment as soon as Jesus opens his mouth and begins to speak. If we
had been listening to Jesus when he began this sermon, saying:--"
Blessed are the poor in spirit; blessed are the meek; blessed are the
pure in heart; blessed are the peace-makers"--and so on till he had
spoken of _nine_ different kinds of blessing, we might have thought
that he had nothing but blessings of which to tell. It would have
seemed as if his mind, and heart, and lips, and hands were all so
filled with blessings that he could do nothing else till he had told
about these. And the blessings spoken of here are not all the
blessings that Jesus brought. They are only specimens of them. The
blessings he has obtained for us are innumerable. David says of them,
"If I would declare and speak of them they are more than can be
numbered." Ps. xl: 5. And these blessings are not only very numerous,
but very _great_. Look at one or two of these blessings that Jesus,
the Great Teacher, brings to us. He says, "Blessed are they that
mourn, for they shall be comforted." Jesus came to bring comfort to
the mourners. Hundreds of years before Christ came the prophet Isaiah
had said of him that he would come to "_comfort all that mourn_." Is.
lxi: 2. And to show how complete this blessing would be which he was
to bring, Jesus said himself--"_As one whom his mother comforteth_
--_so will I comfort you_." Is. lxvi: 13. A young girl was dying.
A friend who came in to see her said:
"I trust you have a good hope."
"No," she answered, distinctly; "I am not hoping--I am certain. My
salvation was finished on the cross. My soul is saved. Heaven is
mine. I am going to Jesus."
What a great blessing it is to have comfort like that!
When Jesus was speaking to the woman of Samaria, as he sat by Jacob's
well, he compared the blessing of his grace to the water of that
well. Pointing to the well at his side, he said: "Whosoever drinketh
of this water will thirst again. But whosoever drinketh of the water
that I shall give him, shall never thirst; but the water that I shall
give him, shall be _in him, a well of water, springing up unto
everlasting life_." John iv: 13, 14. This is one of the most
beautiful illustrations of the blessing Jesus gives that ever was
used. It is a great blessing to have a well of clear, cold water in
our garden, or near our door. But, only think of having a well of
water _in our hearts_. Then, wherever we go, we carry that well with
us. We never have to go away from it. No one can separate between us
and the water of this well. Other wells dry up and fail. But this is
a well that never dries up, and never fails. This well is deep, and
its water is all the time "springing up unto everlasting life." How
happy they are in whose breasts Jesus opens this well of water!
Coleridge, the English poet, in writing to a young friend, just
before his death, said:
"Health is a great blessing; wealth, gained by honest industry, is a
great blessing; it is a great blessing to have kind, faithful, loving
friends and relatives, _but, the greatest, and best of all blessings
is to be a Christian_."
One of the most able and learned lawyers that England ever had was
John Selden. He was so famous for his learning and knowledge that he
is always spoken of as "the learned Selden." On his deathbed he
said--"I have taken much pains to know everything that was worth
knowing among men; but with all my reading and all my knowledge,
nothing now remains with me to comfort me at the close of life but
these precious words of St. Paul: 'This a faithful saying, and worthy
of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save
sinners;' to this I cling. In this I rest. This gives me peace, and
comfort, and enables me to die happy."
William Wilberforce was another of the great and good men who have
been a blessing and an honor to England. When he was on his deathbed,
he said to a dear friend:
"Come, let us talk of heaven. Do not weep for me. I am very happy.
But I never knew what happiness was till I found Christ as my
Saviour. Read the Bible. Let no other book take its place. Through
all my trials and perplexities, it has been my comfort. And now it
comforts me, and makes me happy."
Here we see "this well of water springing up unto everlasting life."
And Jesus, who came to tell us of this water, and to open up this
well in our breasts, may well be called, "the Great Teacher," because
of the great blessings--of which he tells.
_In the second place Jesus may be called "the Great Teacher" because
of the_--GREAT SIMPLICITY--_of his teachings_.
I do not mean to say that we can understand every thing that Jesus
taught. This is not so. He had some things to speak about that are
not simple. He said to his disciples, "_I have yet many things to say
unto you, but ye cannot bear them now_." John xvi: 12. This means
that there are some things about God, and heaven, of which he wished
to tell them, but they were too hard for them to understand, although
they were full-grown men. And so he did not tell them of these
things. But even among the things that Jesus did tell about, there
are some which the wisest and most learned men in the world have
never been able to understand or explain. Some one has compared the
Bible to a river, in which there are some places deep enough for an
elephant or a giant to swim in; and other places where the water is
shallow enough for a child to wade in. And it is just so with the
teachings of Jesus. Some of the most important lessons he taught are
so plain and simple that very young people can understand them.
We have a good illustration of this in that sweet invitation which
Jesus gave when he said,--"_Come unto me, all ye that labor and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest._" Matt. xi: 28. Very young
people know what it is to feel tired and weary from walking, or
working too much, or from carrying a heavy burden. And, when they are
too tired to do anything else, they know what it is to go to their
dear mother and throw themselves into her arms, and find rest there.
And, in just the same way, Jesus invites us to come to him when we
are tired, or troubled, that our souls may find rest in him. We come
to Jesus, when we pray to him; when we tell him all about our
troubles; when we ask him to help us; and when we trust in his
promises.
"Was there ever gentlest shepherd
Half so gentle, half so sweet,
As the Saviour, who would have us
Come and gather round his feet?
"There's a wideness in God's mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There's a kindness in his justice
Which is more than liberty.
"There is no place where earth's sorrows
Are more felt than up in heaven;
There is no place where earth's failings
Have such kindly judgments given.
"There is plentiful redemption
In the blood that has been shed;
There is joy for all the members
In the sorrows of the head.
"If our love were but more simple,
We should take him at his word;
And our lives would all be sunshine,
In the sweetness of our Lord."
The prophet Isaiah foretold that when Jesus came, he would teach his
doctrines to children just weaned. Chap. xxviii: 9. This shows us
that his teaching was to be marked by great plainness and simplicity.
And this was just the way in which he did teach when he uttered those
loving words:--"_Suffer the little children to come unto me, and
forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God._" Mark x: 14.
None of the other famous teachers known to the world ever took such
interest in children as Jesus did. And none of them ever taught with
such great simplicity. What multitudes of young people have been led
to love and serve Jesus by thinking of the sweet words he spoke about
children!
"The Child's Gospel." A little girl sat still in church listening to
the minister. She could not understand what he was saying till he
quoted these words of Jesus about the children. But she understood
them. She felt that they were words spoken for her. They made her
feel very happy. And when she went home she threw her arms around her
mother's neck, who had been kept at home by sickness, and said, "O,
mother, I have heard the _child's gospel_ to-day."
"It's For Me." Little Carrie was a heathen child, about ten years
old. After she had been going to the Mission School for some time,
her teacher noticed, one day, that she looked sad.
"Carrie, my dear," she said, "why do you look so sad to-day?"
"Because I am thinking."
"And what are you thinking about?"
"O, teacher, I don't know whether Jesus loves me, or not."
"Carrie, what did Jesus say about little children coming to him when
he was on earth?"
In a moment the sweet words she had learned in the school were on her
lips--"Suffer the little children to come unto me, &c."
"Well, Carrie, for whom did Jesus speak these words?" At once she
clapped her hands and exclaimed: "It's not for you, teacher, is it?
for you are not a child. No: it's for me! it's for me!"
And so this dear child was drawn to Jesus by the power of his love.
And thus, through all the hundreds of years that have passed away
since "Jesus was here among men," these same simple words have been
drawing the little ones to him.
And so, because of the great simplicity which marked his teaching,
Jesus must truly be called--the Great Teacher.
_But in the third place there was_--GREAT TENDERNESS--_in Jesus, and
this was another thing that helped to make him the Great Teacher_.
It was this great tenderness that led him, when he came to be our
Teacher and Saviour to take our nature upon him and so become like
us. He might have come into our world in the form of a mighty angel,
with his face shining like the sun, as he appeared when the disciples
saw him on the Mount of Transfiguration. But then we should have been
afraid of him. He would not have known how we feel, and could not
have felt for us. But instead of this, his tenderness led him to take
our nature upon him, that he might be able to put himself in our
place, and so to understand just how we feel, and what we need to
help and comfort us. This is what the apostle means in Heb. ii: 14,
when he says--"Forasmuch as the children were partakers of flesh and
blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same." He did this
on purpose that he might know, by his own experience, how we are
tried and tempted; and so be able to sympathize with us and help us
in all our trials.
Here is a little story, very simple, and homely; but yet, one that
illustrates very well the point of which we are speaking. It is a
story about:
"A Lost Horse Found." A valuable horse was lost, belonging to a
farmer in New England. A number of his neighbors turned out to try
and find the horse. They searched all through the woods and fields
of the surrounding country, but in vain. None of them could find the
horse. At last a poor, weak-minded fellow, who was known in that
neighborhood as "simple Sam," started to hunt the horse. After awhile
he came back, bringing the stray horse with him. The owner of the
horse was delighted to see him. He stroked and patted him, and then,
turning to the simple-minded man who had found him, he said:
"Well, Sam, how came you to find the horse, when no one else could do
it?"
"Wal, you see," said Sam, "I just 'quired whar the horse was seen
last; and then I went thar, and sat on a rock; and just axed mysel',
if I was a horse, whar would I go, and what would I do? And then I
went, and found him." Now, when Sam, in the simplicity of his feeble
mind, tried to put himself, as far as he could, in the horse's place,
this helped him to find the lost horse, and bring him back to his
owner again. And so, to pass from a very little thing to a very great
one, when Jesus came down from heaven to seek and to save sinners
that were lost, this is just the way in which he acted. He put
himself in our place as sinners. As the apostle Paul says: "he who
knew no sin, was made sin for us," that he might save us from the
dreadful consequences of our sins.
And we see the tenderness of Jesus, not only in taking our nature
upon him and becoming man, but in what he did when he lived in this
world as a man. "_He went about doing good_." It was his great
tenderness that led him to do this. Suppose that you and I could have
walked about with Jesus when he was on earth as the apostles did.
Just think for a moment what we should have seen. We should have seen
him meeting with blind men and opening their eyes that they might
see. We should have seen him meeting with deaf men, and unstopping
their ears that they might hear. We should have seen him meeting sick
people who were taken with divers diseases and torments and healing
them. We should have seen him raising the dead; and casting out
devils; and speaking words of comfort and encouragement to those who
were sad and sorrowful. If we could have looked into his blessed
face, we should have seen tenderness there, beaming from his eyes and
speaking from every line of his countenance. If we could have
listened to his teaching we should have found tenderness running
through all that he said. Just take one of his many parables as a
sample of his way of teaching--the parable of the lost sheep--and see
how full of tenderness it is. The sweet lines of the hymn, about the
shepherd seeking his lost sheep, that most of us love to sing, bring
out the tenderness of Jesus here very touchingly.
"There were ninety and nine that safely lay
In the shelter of the fold,
But one was out on the hills away,
Far off from the gates of gold--
Away on the mountains, wild and bare,
Away from the tender shepherd's care.
"'Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;
Are they not enough for Thee?'
But the Shepherd made answer: 'One of mine
Has wandered away from me;
And, although the road be rough and steep,
I go to the desert to find my sheep.'
"But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed;
Nor how dark was the night that the Lord passed through,
Ere he found his sheep that was lost.
Out in the desert he heard its cry--
Sick and helpless, and ready to die.
"'Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way
That mark out the mountain's track?'
They were shed for one who had gone astray,
Ere the shepherd could bring him back.
'Lord, why are Thy hands so rent and torn?'
They are pierced, to-night, by many a thorn.
"But all through the mountains, thunder-riven,
And up from the rocky steep,
There rose a cry to the gates of heaven,
'Rejoice! I have found my sheep!'
And the angels echoed around the throne,
'Rejoice, for the Lord brings back his own.'"
And all that we know of Jesus as "the good Shepherd," demonstrates
his great tenderness for his sheep.
But perhaps there was no act in all the life of our blessed Redeemer
that showed his tenderness more than taking the little children in
his arms, and putting his hands upon them, and blessing them.
To think of the Son of God, who made this world, and all worlds, and
whom all the angels of heaven worship, showing so much interest in
the little ones; this proves how full of tenderness his heart was.
"I Like Your Jesus." An English lady who had spent six months in
Syria, writes: "Going through the places where the Mohammedans live,
you continually hear the girls singing our beautiful hymns in Arabic.
The attractive power of Christ's love is felt even by the little
ones, as we learned from a dear Moslem child, who, when she repeated
the text, 'Suffer the little children,' said, 'I like your Jesus,
because he loved little children. Our Mohammed did not love little
children.'"
And if we all try to imitate the tenderness of Jesus, then, though we
may have no money to give, and no great thing to do, yet by being
tender, and gentle, and loving, as Jesus was, we shall be able to do
good wherever we are.
"Doing Good by Sympathy." A Christian mother used to ask her children
every night if they had done any good during the day. One night in
answer to this question, her little daughter said: "At school this
morning I found little Annie G----, who had been absent for some
time, crying very hard. I asked her what was the matter? Then she
cried more, so that I could not help putting my head on her neck, and
crying with her. Her sobs grew less, and presently she told of her
little baby brother, whom she loved so much; how sick he had been;
and how much pain he had suffered, till he died and was buried. Then
she hid her face in her book, and cried, as if her heart would break.
I could not help putting my face on the other page of the book, and
crying, too, as hard as she did. After awhile she kissed me, and told
me I had done her good. But, mother, I don't know how I did her good;
_for I only cried with her!_"
Now this little girl was showing the tenderness of Jesus, the Great
Teacher. Nothing in the world could have done that poor sorrowing
child so much good as to have some one cry with her. Sometimes tears
of tenderness are worth more than diamonds. And this is why the Bible
tells us to "weep with them that weep." Rom. xii: 15. Jesus did this
in the tenderness of his loving heart. And this was one of the things
that made him the Great Teacher.
_But then there was_--GREAT KNOWLEDGE--_in Jesus; and this was
another thing that made him great as a teacher_.
If we wish to be good teachers, we must study, and try to understand
the things we expect to teach. If a young man wishes to be a
minister, he must go through college; and then spend three years in
the Divinity School, so that he may understand the great truths of
the Bible, which he is to teach the people who hear him. But Jesus
never went to college, or to a divinity school. And yet he had
greater knowledge about all the things of which he spoke than any
other teacher ever had. We are told in the book of Job that "He is
_perfect_ in knowledge." Job xxxvi: 5. And the apostle Paul tells us
that "in him are hid _all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge_."
Col. ii: 3. This is more than can be said of any man, or any angel.
If we could take all the knowledge of all the best teachers who ever
lived, and give it to one person, it would be as nothing compared to
the knowledge which Jesus, "the Great Teacher" had. He knew all about
heaven; for that had always been his home before he came into our
world. He knew all about God; for, he was "in the bosom of the
Father," John i: 18; and, as he tells us himself, had shared his
glory with him, "before the world was." John xvii: 5. He knew all
about the world we live in, for he made it. John i: 10. He knew all
about all other worlds, for he made them, too. John i: 3; Heb. i: 2.
He knew all about his disciples and every body else in the world, for
he made them all. He saw all they did; he heard all they said; he
knew all they thought, or felt. Wise and learned men have been
studying, and finding out things for hundreds of years, about
geography and natural history--and astronomy;--about light, and heat,
and electricity--and steam--and the telegraph, and many other things.
Jesus knew all about these things when he was on earth. He could have
told about them, if he had seen fit to do so. But he only told us
what it is best for us to know, in order that we might be saved; and
kept back all the rest. The things that Jesus did teach us when he
was here on earth were wonderful; but it is hardly less wonderful to
think of the things that he might have taught us, and yet did not.
When we think of the great knowledge of Jesus, as a Teacher, we are
not surprised that some of those who heard him "wondered at the
gracious words" he spake; or that others asked the question: "Whence
hath this man this knowledge, having never learned?"
Some one has written these sweet lines about Christ as--_The Great
Teacher_:
"From everything our Saviour saw,
Lessons of wisdom he could draw;
The clouds, the colors in the sky;
The gentle breeze that whispers by;
The fields all white with waving corn;
The lilies that the vale adorn;
The reed that trembles in the wind;
The tree, where none its fruit could find;
The sliding sand, the flinty rock,
That bears unmoved the tempest's shock;
The thorns that on the earth abound;
The tender grass that clothes the ground;
The little birds that fly in air;
The sheep that need the shepherd's care;
The pearls that deep in ocean lie;
The gold that charms the miser's eye;
The fruitful and the thorny ground;
The piece of silver lost and found;
The reaper, with his sheaves returning;
The gathered tares prepared for burning;
The wandering sheep brought back with joy;
The father's welcome for his boy;
The wedding-feast, prepared in state;
The foolish virgins' cry, 'too late!'--
All from his lips some truth proclaim,
Or learn to tell their Maker's name."
But the difference between Jesus, the Great Teacher, and all other
teachers is seen, not only in the greater knowledge he has of the
things that he teaches, but in this also, that he knows how to make
us understand the lessons he teaches. Here is an incident that
illustrates how well Jesus can do this. We may call it:
"The Well Instructed Boy." A minister of the gospel was travelling
through the wildest part of Ireland. There he met a shepherd's boy,
not more than ten or twelve years old. He was poorly clad, with no
covering on his head, and no shoes or stockings on his feet; but he
looked bright and happy. He had a New Testament in his hand. "Can you
read, my boy?" asked the minister.
"To be sure I can."
"And do you understand what you read?"
"A little."
"Please turn to the third chapter of St. John, and read us a little,"
said the minister. The boy found the place directly, and in a clear
distinct voice, began:
"There was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the
Jews; the same came to Jesus by night, and said unto him, Rabbi."
"What does Rabbi mean?"
"It means a master."
"Right; go on."
"We know thou art a teacher come from God; for no man can do these
miracles that thou doest, except God be with him."
"What is a _miracle_?"
"It is a _great wonder_. 'Jesus answered and said unto him, verily,
verily, I say unto thee.'"
"What does _verily_ mean?"
"It means 'indeed.' 'Except a man be born again.'"
"What does that mean?"
"It means a great change, a change of heart."
"Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God."
"And what is that kingdom?"
He paused a moment, and with a very serious, thoughtful look, placing
his hand on his bosom, he said, "It is _something here_;" and then,
raising his eyes to heaven, added, "_and something up yonder_." This
poor boy had been taking lessons from "the Great Teacher," and he had
taught him some of the most important things that we can ever learn.
Jesus may well be called "the Great Teacher," because of his great
knowledge.
_But there is one other thing that Jesus has, which helps to make him
"the Great Teacher," and that is_--GREAT POWER.
Other teachers can tell us what we ought to learn, and to do, yet
they have no power to help us learn, or do what they teach. But Jesus
_has_ this power. Let us take a single illustration from many of the
same kind that occurred while he was on earth. One day he was going
about teaching in the streets of Jerusalem. As he went on, he passed
by the office of a man who was gathering taxes for the Roman
government. The persons who did this were called _publicans_. This
man, sitting in his office, was named Matthew. He was busily engaged
in receiving the taxes of the people. It was a very profitable
business. The men engaged in it generally made a great deal of money.
Jesus stopped before the window or door of this office. He beckoned
to Matthew, and simply spoke these two words:--"_Follow me_."
Now, if any other teacher had spoken these words to Matthew, and had
tried to make him quit his business and engage in something else, he
would have said: "No; I can't leave my office. This is all the means
I have of getting a living. The business pays well, and I am not
willing to give it up." But when Jesus spoke to him, he did, at once,
what he was told to do. We read that "He left all, rose up, and
followed him." Matt. ix: 9; Luke v: 28. He became one of the twelve
apostles and wrote the gospel which bears his name. But it was the
great power which Jesus has over the hearts of men that made Matthew
willing to do, at once, what he was told to do.
And the power which Jesus exercised over Matthew, in this case, he
still has, and still uses. And when he is pleased to use this power
the very worst people feel it, and are made good by it. And Jesus,
"the Great Teacher," uses this power sometimes in connection with
very simple things. Here is an illustration. We may call it:
"Saved by a Rose." Some time ago, a Christian gentleman was in the
habit of visiting one of our prisons. It occurred to him, one day,
that it would be a good thing to have a flowering plant in the little
yard connected with each cell. He got permission from the officers of
the prison to do so. He had a bracket fastened to the wall, in each
yard, and a flower pot, with a plant in it, placed on each bracket.
One of these prisoners was worse than all the rest. He was the most
hardened man that had ever been in that prison. His temper was so
violent and obstinate that no one could manage him. The keeper of the
prison was afraid of him, and never liked to go near him. He was such
a disagreeable-looking man that the name given to him in the prison
was "Ugly Greg." A little rose bush was put on the bracket in Ugly
Greg's yard, and the effect produced by it is told in these simple
lines, which some one has written about it:
"Ugly Greg was the prisoner's name,
Ugly in face, and in nature the same;
Stubborn, sullen, and beetle-browed,
The hardest case in a hardened crowd.
The sin-set lines in his face were bent
Neither by kindness nor punishment;
He hadn't a friend in the prison there,
And he grew more ugly and didn't care.
"But some one--blessings on his name!
Had caused to be placed in that house of shame,
To relieve the blank of the white-washed wall,
Flower-pot brackets, with plants on them all.
Though it seemed but a useless thing to do,
Ugly Greg's cell had a flower-pot, too,
And as he came back at the work-day's close,
He paused, astonished, before a rose.
"'He will smash it in pieces,' the keeper said,
But the lines on his face grew soft instead.
Next morning he watered his plant with care,
And went to his work with a cheerful air;
And, day by day, as the rose-bush grew,
Ugly Greg began changing, too.
"The soft, green leaves unfolded their tips,
And the foul word died on the prisoner's lips;
He talked to the plant, when all alone,
As he would to a friend, in a gentle tone;
And, day by day, and week by week,
As the rose grew taller, so Greg grew meek.
"But, at last they took him away to lie
On a hospital bed, for they knew he must die,
They placed the rose in the sunny light,
Where Greg might watch it, from morn till night,
And the green buds grew, from day to day,
As the sick man faded fast away.
"The lines which sin and pain had traced,
Seemed by the shadowing plant effaced,
Till, came at last, the joyful hour,
When they knew that the bud must burst its flower.
Greg slept, but still one hand caressed
The plant; the other his pale cheek pressed.
The perfumed crimson shed a glow
On the old man's hair, as white as snow;
The nurse came softly--'Look, Greg!' she said,
Ay, the rose had bloomed, but the man was dead."
And the meaning of all this is, not that the rose itself saved this
hardened sinner. No; but it led him to think of the lessons of his
childhood, when he had been taught about Jesus, "the Rose of
Sharon". It led him to think about his sins. It led him to repent of
them; to pray to Jesus; to exercise faith in him; and in _this way_
he became a changed man, and was saved. And so, though we speak of
him as--"a man saved by a rose;" yet it was the power of Jesus, "the
Great Teacher," exercised through that rose, which led to this
blessed change and saved Greg's soul from death.
And thus we have spoken of five things which help to make up the
greatness of Jesus as a Teacher. These are--The Great Blessings--The
Great Simplicity--The Great Tenderness--The Great Knowledge--and the
Great Power connected with his teachings. Let us seek the grace that
will enable us to learn of him, and then we shall find rest for our
souls!