An earthly light penetrates the holy darkness, and animated scenes at
Magdala, on the lake, are visible to me. Fishermen and boatmen,
shepherds, artisans from the town, people from the neighbouring
villages and from the mountains, are gathered together on the quay
where the boats land their passengers. For the rumour has gone forth
that the new prophet is coming. And in the chattering crowd it is said
that he is a magician from the East who possesses miraculous powers,
and can make the sick whole. An amusing thing had happened at
Capernaum. The prophet had been there, and a man ill with rheumatism,
a beggar who lived on his lame leg, had been dragged in his bed to him.
Now the prophet could not endure beggars who nursed their infirmities
in order to display them, who pretended poverty, troubled themselves
about nothing, and yet wished to live in comfort. The prophet liked to
deprive them of their begging tool, namely, the infirmity, so that they
were compelled to work. He healed the man's rheumatic leg, and said;
"Take up thy bed and walk." And the sick man was much astounded over
the turn things had taken; the bed had carried him there, but he must
carry the bed back.
Others said the prophet was an Egyptian, and could foretell the future.
Whereupon someone observed that if he could not foretell the future he
would not be a prophet.
"By Father Abraham!" exclaimed an old ferryman, "if prophets had always
foretold truly the universe would have fallen into the sea and been
drowned long ago. I can prophesy too; if he comes, well, he'll be
here."
"Then he'll soon be here," said a fisher-boy, laughing, "for there he
comes."
A boat, tossed up and down on the waves, was approaching, and in it sat
four men.
"Which is he?"
"The one with the black beard."
"Oh, that's rubbish! The man with the beard is James, the boatman from
the Jordan Valley."
"Then it must be the bald man."
"But, Assam, you surely know Simon the fisherman of Bethsaida, who
comes every month to the market here and spoils other men's business
with his absurdly low prices."
When they had landed, His companions could scarcely steer a way for Him
through the crowd, The people looked at Him; some were disappointed.
That prophet was not sufficiently different from themselves. Was it
really He? The carpenter of Nazareth! Well, then, we've had a nice
run for nothing. We know what He has to say, and what He can do He
does not do.
"He will do it, though. He did it in Cana. Bring up the water
pitchers--we'll be merry today."
The crowd pressed forward more and more eagerly, for many had come a
long distance, and desired to see Him close and hear Him speak.
The evening presented a good opportunity. It was already dark; a torch
fixed to the pillar on the shore diffused a dull red light over the
surging crowd. Jesus wished to pass on quickly, but He could not. A
woman fleeing from her pursuers cast herself at His feet. She was
young, her hair streamed loose, her limbs were trembling with fear; she
knelt down and put her arms round His legs. He bent down to her and
tried to raise her, but she held fast to His feet and could not compose
herself. Then the people began to shout: "The traitress, the Bethany
serpent, what has she to do with Him?"
Jesus put His hand on her head. He stood up straight and asked aloud:
"Who is this woman that you have a right to insult her?"
"Who is she? Ask the son of Job. She's an adulteress. Married but a
few weeks ago to the brave old son of Job, her parents' friend, she
deceives him with a young coxcomb, the hussy!"
The abuse they hurled against the helpless creature cannot be repeated.
It was the women, too, who shouted the loudest; especially one, the
wife of a man who made fishing-nets, was so filled with moral
indignation that she tore her dress and scattered the rags over the
sinner. Words of the most venomous abuse poured from this accuser's
mouth in bitter complaint that such a creature should shame the sacred
name of woman; she passionately declared her desire that the evil-doer
should be stoned. Soon the crowd followed with "Stone her!" and a
young porter who stood near the wife of the fishing-net maker stooped
to pick up a stone from the road, and prepared to cast it at the
sinner. Jesus protected her with His hand, and exclaimed; "Do not
touch her. Which of you is without sin? Let him come and cast the
first stone."
Unwillingly they let their arms fall, and those who already held stones
in their hands dropped them quietly on to the ground. But Jesus turned
to the persecuted woman and said: "They shall not harm you. Tell me
what has happened."
"Lord!" she whimpered, and clasped His feet afresh, "I have sinned! I
have sinned!" and she sobbed and wept so that His feet were damp with
her tears.
"You have sinned!" He said in a voice, the gentle sound of which went
to many a heart--"sinned. And now you are sorry. And you do not try
to vindicate yourself. Get up, get up! Your sins will be forgiven."
"How? What?" grumbled the people. "What's this we hear? He speaks
kindly to the adulteress. He pardons her sin. This prophet will
indeed find followers."
When Jesus heard their grumbling He said aloud: "I tell you I am like a
shepherd. He goes out to search for a lost lamb. He does not fling it
to the wolves, but takes it home to the fold that it may be saved. I
do not rejoice over the proud, but over the repentant. The former sink
down; the latter rise up. Listen to what I tell you. A certain man
had two sons. One was of good disposition and took care of his
property. The other was disobedient, and one day said to his father:
'Give me my share of the substance; I wish to go to a far country.'
The father was sorry, but as the young man insisted he gave him his
share, and he went away. So while one brother worked and gained and
saved at home, the other lived in pleasure and luxury, and squandered
his property out in the world, and became so poor that he had to be a
swineherd and eat husks with the sows. He got ill and wretched, and
was despised by every one. Then he remembered his father, whose
meanest servant lived in plenty. Utterly downcast and destitute, he
returned home, knelt before his father, and said: 'Father, I have
sinned deeply! I am no longer worthy to be your son; let me be your
meanest servant.' Then his father lifted him up, pressed him to his
heart, had him robed in costly garments, ordered a calf to be
slaughtered and the wineskins to be filled in readiness for a banquet,
and invited all his family to it that they might rejoice with him. All
came except his other son. He sent a message to say that he had
faithfully served his father all his life, yet no calf or buck had been
slaughtered on his account. He found more honour in eating bread and
figs alone in his room than in sitting at the banquet table with idle
fellows and spendthrifts. Then his father sent to him and said:
'Wrong, wrong you are! Your brother was lost and is found. Look to it
that your envy turns not to your loss. Come and be merry with me!' I
tell you that the Heavenly Father rejoiceth more over a sinner that
repenteth than over a righteous man."
Then a Pharisee stepped out from the crowd, wrapped his cloak round him
with much dignity, and uttered the saying of a Jewish scholar: "Only
the righteous man shall stand before God!"
To which Jesus replied; "Have you not heard of the publican who kneeled
backwards in the Temple, and did not venture to approach the altar
because he was a poor sinner? The Pharisee stands proudly by the altar
and prays: 'Lord, I thank thee that I am not wicked like that man in
the corner!' But when they went forth from the Temple, the publican's
heart was full of grace, and the Pharisee's heart was empty. Do you
understand?"
Thereupon several of them drew back. Jesus bent over the penitent and
said: "Woman, rise and depart in peace!"
The people were outwardly rather calmer. Inwardly they were still
restless, but they began now to be a little more satisfied with Him.
Meanwhile James had to settle with the fisherman about payment for the
voyage. Simon covered his face with his mantle, and said with gentle
rebuke: "Do not mock me. I have been punished enough. I am ashamed of
my cowardice. I see now that I'm neither a fisherman nor a sailor, but
a mere useless creature. This man whom you call Master, do you know
what has come over me, thanks to Him? He who saw Him in the storm, and
heard His words about sinners, leaves Him not again. No, I have never
seen any like Him, If only Manasseh, the fisherman and his daughter,
and my brother Andrew had been there!"
"They will come directly," said James.
"How comes it, James," asked the fisherman, "that you are with this man
and dare to follow Him?"
"That is quite simple, my friend. I merely follow Him. Whoever
pleases can have my little property. I follow Him."
"But whither, James, whither are you journeying?" And James answered:
"To the Kingdom of God: to eternal life."
Then the fisherman, with trembling hand, felt for James's arm, and
said: "I will go too."
An hour had scarcely passed before a fresh tumult arose. It came from
the house of the maker of fishing-nets. He and a neighbour were
hauling the former's wife along, the same woman who had been so
indignant against the adulteress shortly before. It was suggested that
she should be brought to the prophet, but her husband said: "He is a
bad judge in such matters," and wished to take her down to the lake.
But the people crowded round Jesus, and told Him what had happened.
The woman had been caught with Joel, the porter. The accused struck
out round her, violently denied the charge, and bit her husband, who
had hold of her, in the hand. Others came up and confirmed the
accusation. The woman blasphemed, and reduced her husband to silence
by proclaiming his crimes.
Jesus burned with anger. He exclaimed in a loud voice: "Cursed be the
hypocrite and the faithless, and the violent! Justice, judgment for
such as her!"
Then the woman shrieked: "You speak of justice, you who yourself
recognise no justice! Is it just that you should bless one of two
lovers, and curse the other?"
And Jesus: "I tell you: he who repents is accepted; he who will not
repent is cast out."
Then He turned round, and, wrapt in thought, walked along the bank in
the mild night. Simon, the fisherman, followed Him. He touched His
wide sleeve and implored: "Master, take me too."
Jesus asked him: "What do you seek with Me, Simon, the fisherman? If
anyone seeks a polished crystal and finds a rough diamond, he is vexed;
he does not recognise its value. Look at this obdurate woman; she says
that I am not just because I am severe. To-morrow ten of the corrupt
may shout, the day after a hundred; yet ere long he who is applauded
to-day may be surrounded by cruel enemies, and with him those who
support him. My word ruins the worldly and My mercy annoys the
powerful. They will destroy with fire and sword the seeds which I sow.
Simon, you did not strike Me as one of the strongest on the sea. I
demand not a little. If you will come to Me, you must abandon
everything that is now yours. You cannot have Me and the world. If
you can make sacrifices, if you can forget, if you can suffer, then
come with Me. Yes, and if you can die for Me, then come."
"Master, I will go with you."
"If you can do that, then the burden will be easy; then you will have
the peace which none finds in the world."
"Master," exclaimed Simon, loudly, "I will go with you."
Others who had followed Him along the bank heard the decision. They
marvelled at the words that had passed, and the erring woman whom He
had protected would not leave Him.
In the distance the clamour could still be heard, but gradually the
crowd dispersed. Jesus then sought lodging for Himself and His
disciples.