Again the scene changes, because the stress of the temptation is
different. The 'exceeding high mountain' is not to be looked for in our
atlases. The manner in which all the glories of the world's kingdoms
were flashed in one dazzling panorama, like an instantaneous photograph,
before Christ's eyes, is beyond our knowledge. We note that Satan has no
more to say about 'the Son of God.' He has been foiled in both his
assaults on Christ in that character. If He stood firm in filial trust
and in filial submission, there was no more to be done. So the tempter
tries new weapons, and seeks to pervert the desire for that dominion
over the world which was to be a consequence of the sonship. He has not
been able to touch Him as Son; can he not spoil Him as King? They are
rivals: can they not strike up a treaty? Jesus thinks that He is going
to reign as God's viceroy; can He not be induced, as a much quicker way
of getting to His end, to become Satan's? Such a scheme sounds very
stupid; but Satan is very stupid, for all his wisdom, and the hopeless
folly of his proposal is typical of the absurdities which lie in all
sins. There is an old play, the title of which would be coarse if it
were not so true, 'The Devil is an Ass.'
His boast, like all his wiles, is a little truth and a great lie. It is
true that his servants do often manage to climb into thrones and other
high places. It is true that beggars and worse than beggars on
horseback, and princes and better than princes walking, is often the
rule. It is true that the crowned saints of the world might be counted
on the fingers. But, for all that, the Father of lies was like himself
in this promise. He did not say that, if he gives a kingdom to one of
his servants, he takes it from another. He did not say that his gifts
are shams, and fade away when the daylight comes. He did not say that
he and his are, after all, tools in God's hands.
What was it that he thought he was appealing to in Christ? Ambition? He
knew that Jesus was destined to be King of the earth, and he blunders to
the conclusion that His reign is to be such as he could help Him to. How
impossible it is for Satan to penetrate the depths of that loving heart!
How mole-blind evil is to the radiant light of goodness! How hate fails
when it tries to fathom love! If all that Satan meant by 'the glory' of
the world had been Christ's, He would have been no nearer His heart's
desire.
The temptation was not only to fling away the ideal of His kingdom, but
to reverse the means for its establishment. Neither temptation could
originate within Christ's heart, but both beset Him all His life. The
cravings of His followers, the expectations of His race, the certainty
of an enthusiastic response if He would put Himself at their head, and
the equal certainty of death if He would not, were always urging Him to
the very same thing.
'There is nothing weaker,' says an old school-man, 'than the Devil
stripped naked.' The mask is thrown off at last, and swift and smiting
comes the gesture and the word of abhorrence, 'Get thee hence,
Satan,'--now revealed in thy true colours. Jesus still couches His
refusal in Scripture words, as if sheltering Himself behind their broad
shield. It is safest to meet temptation, not by our own reasonings and
thoughts, but by the words which cannot lie. As He had held unmoved, by
His filial trust and His filial submission, now He clings to the
foundation principle of all religion,--the exclusive worship and service
of God. His kingdom is to be a kingdom of priests; therefore to begin it
by such an act would be suicide. It is to be the victorious antagonist
of Satan's kingdom, because it is to lead all men to worship God alone;
therefore enmity, not alliance, is to be between these two. Christ's
last words are not only His final refusal of all the baits, but the
ringing proclamation of war to the death, and that a war which will end
in victory. The enemy's quiver is empty. He feels that he has met more
than his match, so he skulks from the field, beaten for the first time
by having encountered a heart which all his fiery darts failed to
inflame, and dimly foreseeing yet more utter defeat.
The last temptation teaches us both the nature of Christ's kingdom and
the means of its establishment. It is a rule over men's hearts and
wills, swaying them to goodness and the exclusive worship and service of
God. That being so, the way to found it follows of course. It can only
be set up by suffering, utter self-sacrifice, gentleness, and goodness.
Christ is King of all because He is servant of all. His cross is His
throne. His realm is of hearts softened, cleansed, made gladly obedient,
and growingly like Himself. For such a king, weapons of force are
impossible, and for His subjects the same law holds. They have often
tried to fight for Christ with the Devil's weapons, to make compliance
with him for ends which they thought good, to keep terms with evil, or
to adopt worldly policy, craft, or force. They have never succeeded,
and, thank God! they never will.
That duel was fought for us. There we all conquered, if we will hold
fast by Him who conquered then, and thereby taught our 'hands to war'
and our 'fingers to fight.' The strong man is bound. The spoiling of his
house follows of course, and is but a question of time.