Jesus is Himself the best witness as to what He was, and what He wished
to do for men. It is a fact, moreover, for which we cannot be too
thankful that, in explaining Himself, Jesus used not the language of
doctrine, but living figures and symbols which the humblest and youngest
could not fail to understand.
When, for example, He compared Himself to a shepherd leaving the ninety
and nine in the fold and braving the darkness and the steep places that
he might bring back the one that had wandered, He opens a window into
His own love for men which is worth pages of description. For those who
are familiar with the daily life and work of a shepherd, it means a
great deal that Jesus waits to be the Shepherd of men.
But, in these very different days of ours, there are multitudes in
streets and tenements who have never seen a shepherd, and know not what
manner of life is his. So that one is glad that Jesus gave Himself
other names as well. When Matthew Arnold met the pale-faced preacher in
the slums of Bethnal Green, and asked him how he did--
"Bravely," he said, "for I of late have been
Much cheered with thoughts of Christ, the Living Bread."
If that name for Christ brought him comfort, another preacher may be
allowed to confess that he has often been cheered and helped by the
thought of Jesus as the Good Physician. I am glad that in effect, at
least, if not in actual words, He called Himself by that name.
This is His apology for consorting with publicans and sinners, for being
so accessible to those who had lost caste and character. He says it is
the sick who need a Physician, not those who are well. And His defence
implies that Jesus regarded Himself as being in a true sense a
Physician, not for outward ills merely, but for the whole man, body,
mind, and spirit.
The days were, as you know, when priest and physician were one calling;
and it is doubtless to the advantage of both vocations that their
spheres are now distinct. But it may be, and I think it is, unfortunate
that Jesus should be regarded by many as so entirely identified with the
priestly side of life and the priestly calling. It is beyond question
that a faithful priest is, in his degree, a mirror of Christ, and helps
men to see Him more clearly. But it is also true--and a truth worth
underlining in these days--that the Doctor, too, is a symbol of what
Christ means to be to men--nay, more, that there are respects in which
the figure of a beloved physician of to-day comes nearer to the reality
of the living human Christ than any other calling in the world.
It is a sure and unique place which the Doctor holds in the esteem and
confidence of the community. He is the most accessible of all
professional men, the most implicitly trusted, and, I think, the best
beloved. At all hours of the day and night he is ready to give his
services to those who need him. His mere presence in the sick room
inspires confidence. In the poor districts of town and city especially,
he is more really the friend and confidant and helper of everybody than
any other person whatever. As no other man does, the Doctor goes about
continually doing good. His life is a constant self-sacrifice for his
fellow-men. He wears himself out in the interests of the needy. He
runs risks daily from which other men flee. He asks not to be ministered
unto, but to minister, and often and literally he gives his life a
ransom for many.
And I do not know what we have been thinking of that we have not oftener
made use of this as Christ's claim for Himself, that we have not told
the ignorant and the very poor especially, who know far more about the
Doctor than they do about the Church, who are, in fact, shy of all that
is priestly, but who do understand and appreciate the Doctor, I say, I
do not know why we have not oftener told them to forget that Jesus is
the King and Head of the Church and remember only that He is the best of
all Physicians. That Christ is compassionate, sympathetic, and
approachable, like the Doctor, would be veritable good news to many a
poor ignorant soul who is mightily afraid of His priests.
The word which comes to our lips when we seek to characterise the life
and work of the true Doctor is Christlike. And big as the title is, it
is deserved. In sacrifice and self-forgetfulness, in his care most for
those who most need him, in the way he identifies himself with his
patient, bearing with, because understanding, his weakness and petulance
and fears, and seeking all the while only to heal and help and save him,
there is no more Christlike character or calling in the modern world
than the Doctor.
I am the happy possessor of an engraving--a gift from one whose calling
is to teach doctors--of Luke Fildes' famous picture. Most of you
doubtless are familiar with it. It represents the interior of a humble
home where a little child lies critically ill. The father and mother,
distracted with grief, have yielded their place beside the couch to the
Doctor, who sits watching and waiting, all-absorbed in the little one's
trouble. It is a noble face, strong, compassionate, resourceful,
gentle; and if the Eternal Christ of God is to be represented to us in
His strength and gentleness by any human analogy or likeness whatever,
as He wished to be, and indeed must be, no finer figure could be found,
I think, than that, none more certain to draw out the reverence and
gratitude and trust of men.
Men of all grades and classes appeal to and trust the Doctor. But how
many of them realise that Jesus desires that men should come to Him and
trust His willingness to help and save them, just as they would do to
some good physician? How many men who have found comfort by taking
their fears and forebodings to the Doctor and hearing his authoritative
"Go in peace!" know or realise that just so would Jesus have us bring
Him our unworthiness and shame and sin? Jesus never preached at those
whom His compassion drew to Him. He never lectured them, He just helped
them, and that at once. He lifted them to their feet and gave them a
new hope. He, straightway, in God's name, assured them of forgiveness.
Ah, if men only understood that Jesus is to be found to-day down among
the world's burdened and weary souls, not as a Priest begirt with
ceremony and aloof from daily life, but as a Physician, approachable,
helpful, human, who sees and pities their weakness, and longs to save
them and help them to their best. If men only understood that!