The two cases before us are alike, in that both of them find parallels
in our Lord's miracles. The one is the cure of a paralytic, which pairs
off with the well-known story in the Gospels concerning the man that
was borne by four, and let down through the roof into Christ's
presence. The other of them, the raising of Dorcas, or Tabitha, of
course corresponds with the three resurrections of dead people which
are recorded in the Gospels.
And now, note the likenesses. Jesus Christ said to the paralysed man,
'Arise, take up thy bed.' Peter says to Aeneas, 'Arise, and make thy
bed.' The one command was appropriate to the circumstances of a man who
was not in his own house, and whose control over his long-disused
muscles in obeying Christ's word was a confirmation to himself of the
reality and completeness of his cure. The other was appropriate to a
man bedridden in his own house; and it had precisely the same purpose
as the analogous injunction from our Lord, 'Take up thy bed and walk.'
Aeneas was lying at home, and so Peter, remembering how Jesus Christ
had demonstrated to others, and affirmed to the man himself, the
reality of the miraculous blessing given to him, copies his Master's
method, 'Aeneas, make thy bed.' It is an echo and resemblance of the
former incident, and is a distinct piece of imitation of it.
And then, if we turn to the other narrative, the intentional moulding
of the manner of the miracle, consecrated in the eyes of the loving
disciple, because it was Christ's manner, is still more obvious. When
Jesus Christ went into the house of Jairus there was the usual hubbub,
the noise of the loud Eastern mourning, and He put them all forth,
taking with Him only the father and mother of the damsel, and Peter
with James and John. When Peter goes into the upper room, where Tabitha
is lying, there are the usual noise of lamentation and the clack of
many tongues, extolling the virtues of the dead woman. He remembers how
Christ had gone about His miracle, and he, in his turn, 'put them all
forth.' Mark, who was Peter's mouthpiece in his Gospel, gives us the
very Aramaic words which our Lord employed when He raised the little
girl, _Talitha_, the Aramaic word for 'a damsel,' or young girl;
_cumi_, which means in that language 'arise.' Is it not singular and
beautiful that Peter's word by the bedside of the dead Dorcas is, with
the exception of one letter, absolutely identical? Christ says,
_Talitha cumi_. Peter remembered the formula by which the blessing was
conveyed, and he copied it. 'Tabitha cumi!' Is it not clear that he is
posing after his Master's attitude; that he is, consciously or
unconsciously, doing what he remembered so well had been done in that
other upper room, and that the miracles are both of them shaped after
the pattern of the miraculous working of Jesus Christ?
Well, now, although we are no miracle-workers, the very same principle
which underlay these two works of supernatural power is to be applied
to all our work, and to our lives as Christian people. I do not know
whether Peter _meant_ to do like Jesus Christ or not; I think rather
that he was unconsciously and instinctively dropping into the fashion
that to him was so sacred. Love always delights in imitation; and the
disciples of a great teacher will unconsciously catch the trick of his
intonation, even the awkwardness of his attitudes or the peculiarities
of his way of looking at things--only, unfortunately, outsides are a
good deal more easily imitated than insides. And many a disciple copies
such external trifles, and talks in the tones that have, first of all,
brought blessed truths to him, whose resemblance to his teacher goes
very little further. The principle that underlies these miracles is
just this--get near Jesus Christ, and you will catch His manner. Dwell
in fellowship with Him, and whether you are thinking about it or not,
there will come some faint resemblance to that Lord into your
characters and your way of doing things, so that men will 'take
knowledge of you that you have been with Jesus.' The poor bit of cloth
which has held some precious piece of solid perfume will retain
fragrance for many a day afterwards, and will bless the scentless air
by giving it forth. The man who keeps close to Christ, and has folded
Him in his heart, will, like the poor cloth, give forth a sweetness not
his own that will gladden and refresh many nostrils. Live in the light,
and you will become light. Keep near Christ, and you will be
Christlike. Love Him, and love will do to you what it does to many a
wedded pair, and to many kindred hearts: it will transfuse into you
something of the characteristics of the object of your love. It is
impossible to trust Christ, to obey Christ, to hold communion with Him,
and to live beside Him, without becoming like Him. And if such be our
inward experience, so will be our outward appearance.
But there may be a specific point given to this lesson in regard to
Christian people's ways of doing their work in the world and helping
and blessing other folk. Although, as I say, we have no miraculous
power at our disposal, we do not need it in order to manifest Jesus
Christ and His way of working in our work. And if we dwell beside Him,
then, depend upon it, all the characteristics--far more precious than
the accidents of manner, or tone, or attitude in working a miracle--all
the characteristics so deeply and blessedly stamped upon His life of
self-sacrifice and man-helping devotion will be reproduced in us. Jesus
Christ, when He went through the wards of the hospital of the world,
was overflowing with quick sympathy for every sorrow that met His eye.
If you and I are living near Him, we shall never steel our hearts nor
lock up our sensibilities against any suffering that it is within our
power to stanch or to alleviate. Jesus Christ never grudged trouble,
never thought of Himself, never was impatient of interruption, never
repelled importunity, never sent away empty any outstretched hand. And
if we live near Him, self-oblivious willingness to spend and be spent
will mark our lives, and we shall not consider that we have the right
of possession or of sole enjoyment of any of the blessings that are
given to us. Jesus Christ, according to the beautiful and significant
words of one of the Gospels, 'healed them that had need of healing.'
Why that singular designation for the people that were standing around
Him but to teach us that wide as men's necessity was His sympathy, and
that broad as the sympathy of Christ were the help and healing which He
brought? And so, with like width of compassion, with like perfectness
of self-oblivion, with equal remoteness from consciousness of
superiority or display of condescension, Christian men should go
amongst the sorrowful and the sad and the outcast and do their
miracles--'greater works' than those which Christ did, as He Himself
has told us--after the manner in which He did His. If they did, the
world would be a different place, and the Church would be a different
Church, and you would not have people writing in the newspapers to
demonstrate that Christianity was 'played out.'