REJECTED OF MEN
The Galilean shook his great shoulders doubtfully as he stared after the
small, agile figure of the boy, darting and doubling, twisting and turning
through the huddled masses of people gathered about his Master. “By the
double veil—” he began, and stopped short with a perplexed frown. “‘Swear
not at all,’ saith my Master, yet my unruly tongue doth ever betray me.
Truly, the tongue is a fire, tamed by no man, not even its owner.”
There was some new excitement brewing, for the fisherman was thrust rudely
to one side by a guard of brawny temple police, who advanced as before,
crying out to the people to fall back in the name of the Sanhedrim. The
group of men which followed close on the heels of the guard forced another
profane exclamation from the unguarded lips of the Galilean. “Herodians!”
he muttered, “and Pharisees. Now, what doth this portend?”
The question was answered by Judas, who reappeared at the moment, his dark
face distorted by a savage sneer. “Wouldst know why these courtiers of
Herod have come to the Nazarene, fisherman? Well, I can tell thee. Our
chosen Master hath of late permitted himself to be hailed King of the
Jews, yet hath he not pledged the nation to the support of his claim, nor
even armed us, his chosen followers. What then? Herod is a paltry tetrarch
of Galilee, he plots and schemes at Rome for his father’s crown. Thou
mayst know, fisherman,—unless thy head be too thick for understanding—that
the pretensions of the carpenter’s son have been widely noised abroad, and
have already reached the ears of royal Herod. Jesus of Nazareth must take
heed to himself or he will presently be dealt with after the manner of
John the Baptist—or worse.”
“Get thee behind me, prophet of evil,” growled Peter; “thou hast ever the
dismal croak of the raven. What if Herod intends to acknowledge Jesus as
the lawful descendant of David and the promised Messiah? The tetrarch is,
after all, a Jew, and looks for the deliverance of Israel.”
Judas laughed silently, his narrow eye‐slits shooting arrows of scorn at
the big fisherman. “What if the stones of the temple should suddenly
become armed troops for the defense of our sapient Master?” he asked.
“It might well be so,” murmured Peter thoughtfully. “Did he not walk upon
the sea? Did he not control the lightnings and the tempest? Did he not
feed the five thousand with one man’s victual? Hist now, they are speaking
to him!”
The courtiers of Herod, garbed as Roman exquisites, perfumed and smiling,
were addressing themselves to the man of Nazareth. They prefaced their
words with extravagant obeisances, tendered with mock humility. Behind
them stood the Pharisees alert and watchful.
“Listen!” repeated the fisherman, his honest face flushed with expectancy.
“We know that thou art true, Rabbi,” began the spokesman of the party,
“and carest for the opinion of no man; for thou regardest not the person
of men, but teachest the way of God in truth. Is it lawful to give tribute
unto Cæsar, or not? Shall we give, or shall we not give?”
Jesus faced his inquisitors, erect and calm, his deep eyes searching their
hypocritical hearts. There was silence for a full minute, while the
crowded listeners craned their necks for his reply, and Judas clenched his
knotted hands in a very agony of suspense. This was the supreme moment.
Tribute to Cæsar, or no? Tribute to the usurping heathen emperor, or
allegiance to the throne of David—which?
The carpenter’s son whitened slowly under the fiery eyes which scorched
him with their brutal passions. Then came his answer—spoken slowly,
deliberately: “Why tempt ye me? Give me a penny, that I may see it.”
The perfumed exquisite from Herod’s court languidly fingered the gold
pieces in his pouch, with a pitying smile for this penniless pretender to
a throne, and presently, drawing therefrom one of the lesser coins of the
empire, gave it to the Nazarene.
“Whose is this image and superscription?” demanded Jesus, his voice
ringing out in the crowded place like the peal of a great bell.
“Cæsar’s,” replied the courtier, bowing servilely at mention of that name
of power.
Then came the wondrous answer, forever solving all questions of human
fealty: “Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s, and unto God the
things that are God’s.”
Instantly there arose from the multitude a great hum of approval. “Well
spoken!” “Thou hast said!” “Behold a Solomon in our midst!” burst from one
and another in deep‐throated chorus. And the Pharisees, wrathful and
menacing, withdrew with the crestfallen Herodians.
“Said I not that he was a match for the best of them?” cried Peter,
showing his white teeth in a great laugh of relief and triumph. “Aye, our
Master is king of a surety, wiser than any scribe is he, keener than a
Damascus blade having two edges.”
But Judas groaned aloud. “What a moment to have declared himself!” he
muttered. “And lost—ay, lost forever. My God! what and who is the man?”
Tor had wriggled his small body through the dense crowd back to the feet
of Jesus, where he crouched ready to spring like a faithful dog at the
throat of any man who should threaten his Master. “I have no sword,”
muttered the child to himself, “but I have two hands well furnished with
nails, also, I have teeth like the teeth of Baladan. Let the men in long
robes beware.”
But as yet no man durst lay so much as a finger on that seamless robe.
Other tempters wearing great turbans, bearded, scowling, came to ask
mocking questions concerning the resurrection. And on the insensate ears
of the multitude fell those significant words which the world has neither
comprehended nor believed to this day: “But as touching the resurrection
of the dead, have ye not read that which was spoken unto you by God,
saying, I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of
Jacob? _God is not the God of the dead, but of the living._”
Afterward the Pharisees, rejoicing in the discomfiture of their hated
rivals, the Sadducees, gathered again like barking wolves about a hunted
quarry. “Master,” asked one of them hypocritically, “which is the great
commandment in the law?” For, they argued, if we can but draw this witless
carpenter’s son into a discussion on the law we shall be able to put him
to open shame before the multitude.
Jesus answered the scribe without hesitation: “The first commandment is,
Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God, the Lord is one; and thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy
mind, and with all thy strength. The second is this, Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.”
He who had asked the question trembled under the searching eyes of the
Nazarene. Of a sudden those familiar words of the temple ritual blazed
within his darkened soul like a great light. And he answered truth with
truth. “Master, thou hast well said that he is one; and there is none
other but he; and to love him with all the understanding, and with all the
strength, and to love his neighbor as himself, is much more than all whole
burnt offerings and sacrifices.”
And Jesus said to this man: “Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.”
But upon the others, who were openly sneering at their spokesman and
muttering anathemas in their great beards, he presently launched the most
terrible words ever spoken to man. Ghastly woes upon woes reverberated in
their astonished ears, while all the rottenness of their guilty hearts was
suddenly torn open and laid bare for the rabble to gaze upon. “Serpents,
offspring of vipers,” he called them; and hissing, crawling, stinging,
they crept away to their dens in murderous haste, while the fickle
multitude, roused to a very frenzy of excitement, rocked and wept under
the prophetic wail of his closing words, heavy with swift‐approaching
doom: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killeth the prophets, and stoneth
them that are sent unto her! how often would I have gathered thy children
together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye
would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I say unto
you, Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is he that
cometh in the name of the Lord.”
And Judas, who had heard and seen all, staggered away, blind and crazed
with anger and despair. “Ruin—ruin!” he muttered. “I see naught but black
ruin! In his rash folly the man hath cut the last rope of safety. There is
but one chance—one. He must again quell the storm he has raised about our
ears with the word of his power, and I—yes, I will force him to it. I
swear it!”
In that same hour the beggar, Tor, saw and heard what he has never
forgotten to this moment of his eternity—nor yet will forget. Certain
Greeks had come up to keep the passover at Jerusalem, for they had
abandoned the pagan rites of Rome and Athens, and were trying to serve the
invisible Jehovah. These heard speedily of the new prophet who gathered
the whole city to hear him in the temple, and they desired mightily to see
him.
When one will see Jesus, even to this hour, his desire is granted to him.
So then these Gentiles presently set their longing eyes upon the man they
sought. And Jesus, looking with prophetic gaze adown the vista of coming
centuries, saw in these foreigners, with their clear, fair faces and
candid eyes, those who should truly accept him as their king,
understanding as the Jews could not the glories of his invisible kingdom.
And seeing thus all that must be, he said to those about him: “The hour is
come that the Son of man should be glorified.”
And again he said: “Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth and die,
it abideth by itself alone; but if it die, it beareth much fruit. He that
loveth his life loseth it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall
keep it unto life eternal. If any man serve me, let him follow me; and
where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man serve me, him will
the Father honor. Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father,
save me from this hour. But for this cause came I unto this hour. Father,
glorify thy name.”
Then came a great Voice out of the unseen. “I have both glorified it, and
will glorify it again.”
The people heard the sound of the Voice and trembled. But not to every man
is it given to hear aright; so some said, “It thundered,” and rolled
foolish eyes toward the cloudless heavens.
Others, awe‐stricken, whispered, “An angel hath spoken to him.”
To these Jesus spake presently. “This voice hath not come for my sake, but
for your sakes. Now is the judgment of this world: now shall the prince of
this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw
all men unto me.”
Then one of the scribes, shaken out of his hypocrisy by the thunder of
that celestial Voice, asked in all sincerity: “We have heard out of the
law that the Christ abideth for ever: and how sayest thou, The Son of man
must be lifted up? who is this Son of man?”
And Jesus, divinely patient, answered once again: “Yet a little while is
the light among you. Walk while ye have the light, that darkness overtake
you not: and he that walketh in the darkness knoweth not whither he goeth.
While ye have the light, believe on the light, that ye may become sons of
light.”
And with that word he went away and hid himself, and no man saw him for
many hours.