In seeking a reason for Christ's fixing the number of His disciples,

some have found a fancied one in the twelve precious stones of Aaron's

breastplate. The most precious stone would represent John, the chosen

one of the Great High Priest. In his own vision of the new Jerusalem

"the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all manner

of precious stones." "And the wall of the city had twelve foundations,

and on them twelve names of the twelve Apostles of the Lamb." It was

that Lamb of God to which he had been pointed on the Jordan, and to

which he points us as he beholds Him by the "glassy sea." As John read

those names did he not recall the day when Jesus chose twelve whom "He

named Apostles"?

_CHAPTER XV_

_John in the Home of Jairus_

"He suffered no man to follow with Him, save Peter, and James, and

John. And they came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue."

"And taking the child by the hand, He saith unto her, Talitha cumi;

which is, being interpreted, Damsel I say unto thee, Arise. And

straightway the damsel rose up, and walked."--_Mark_ v. 37, 38, 41,

42.

The first scene in which we find John as one of the favored three is in

the house of mourning. It was the home of Jairus in Capernaum. He was a

ruler of the synagogue. "He had an only daughter, about twelve years of

age, and she lay a dying." He hastened to Jesus, fell at His feet,

worshiped Him, and besought Him saying, "Come and lay Thy hands on her

that she may be healed; and she shall live."

Did he not have in mind Peter's wife's mother, living in the same town,

and how Jesus "came and took her by the hand and lifted her up; and

immediately the fever left her"? Jesus started for the house, followed

by a throng, some doubtless full of tender sympathy for their townsman,

and some curious to see what the wonder-worker would do.

A messenger from Jairus' home met him saying, "Thy daughter is dead;

trouble not the Master." But the father's faith in Jesus was not limited

to the power to heal. Could not the hand that had already touched the

bier of the widow's only son, be laid on his only daughter, with

life-restoring power? Could not the command spoken in Nain "I say unto

thee, arise," be repeated in Capernaum, and in like manner be obeyed?

Without heeding the messenger's question about troubling the Master, he

cried out yet more earnestly, "My daughter is even now dead; but lay Thy

hand upon her, and she shall live." But the father's entreaty was

unnecessary, for Jesus was already responding to the messenger's words

as, turning to Jairus, He said, "Fear not, only believe."

How eagerly the curious crowd hastened toward the ruler's home, because

of a possible miracle, even raising the dead. But they were not to be

witnesses of such display of Divine power. Yet even if the throng be

excluded, might not the Twelve, following close to Jairus and Jesus,

expect admission to the home? What was the surprise and disappointment

of nine of them to be forbidden admission by Him whom they were

following. But so it was. "When He came to the house He suffered not any

man to enter in with Him, save Peter, and John and James, and the father

of the maiden, and her mother."

[Illustration: RAISING THE DAUGHTER OF JAIRUS _H. Hofmann_ Page 99]

This is the first we know of this distinction in the apostolic band. We

almost hear the nine saying, "Why is this?" Can it be that, in that

hour, at the door of this house of mourning, there was awakened the

feeling of jealousy which afterward appeared? Did it inspire in the

three a sense of superiority, and ambition to be higher in position than

the rest in the kingdom of their Lord? Did James and John especially

hope for promotion above the nine, and even the ten including Peter? So

it will appear. But all this was to pass away when the band better

understood the nature of their Lord's kingdom, and possessed more of His

spirit.

The death-chamber was too sacred a place for numbers, even for the nine,

whose admittance would be more fitting than that of the hired mourners

whom Jesus excluded with them. He had His own wise reasons for the

choice of the three. We do not wonder that John was one of them. With

all his manifest failings--which he at last overcame--he was the most

like his Master. In that death-chamber the Lord was to show His

"gentleness and delicacy of feeling and action" such as John could

understand, and with which he could sympathize.

"And taking the child by the hand, He saith unto her, Talitha, cumi." We

are glad that Mark has preserved for us the very words that must have

thrilled the heart of John. They had been interpreted, "My little lamb,

my pet lamb, rise up." In them was a lesson for John. They were a

revelation of his Master's tenderness toward childhood. It was a needed

lesson, which he finally learned.

As John and Peter saw the returning life of the little maid, and heard

their Master's command "that something should be given her to eat," they

thought not of the time when they should stand together again near the

same spot with the same Master, Himself risen from the dead, and hear

Him utter another command, "Feed My lambs."

As they with James followed their Lord out from the death-chamber--such

no longer--and heard His charge "that no man should know" what had

happened, the very secrecy drew more distinctly the line of the inner

circle about the three. It was not to be erased during the Lord's

earthly sojourn with the twelve.

_CHAPTER XVI_

_John a Beholder of Christ's Glory_

"We beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the

Father."--_St. John_ i. 14.

"We were eyewitnesses of His majesty. For He received from God the

Father honor and glory ... when we were with Him in the holy

mount."--2 _Peter_ i. 16-18.

"As brightest sun, His face is bright;

His raiment, as the light, is white,

Yea, whiter than the whitest snow.

Moses, Elias, spake with Him.

Of deepest things, of terrors grim,

Of boundless bliss, and boundless woe,

Of pangs that none but Christ may know.

"A voice sublime I panting hear,

A voice that conquers grief and fear,

Revealing all eternity;

Revealing God's beloved Son,

Born to redeem a world undone;

Filled with God's fulness from on high,

To gain God's noblest victory."

--_Trans. Kingo of Denmark._

We may think of the twelve as Christ's family with whom He often prayed

apart from the multitude. One such occasion was in Cæsarea Philippi. The

prayer was followed by two earnest and solemn questions. "He asked the

disciples, saying, Who do men say that the Son of Man is? And they said,

Some say John the Baptist; some, Elijah; and others, Jeremiah or one of

the prophets."

How strange these sayings must have sounded to St. John and his Jordan

companions, who had been directed by the Baptist to their Messiah. Three

of them were soon to witness Elijah's tribute to Him, as being more than

the "Son of Man." Such already had He become to them. He was more

interested in the opinions of the disciples than in those of the

multitude. So He asked with emphasis, "But who say ye that I am? And

Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the

living God. And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou,

Simon Bar-Jona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but

My Father which is in heaven."

But in the mind of Jesus even this blessed revelation was not enough for

His believing yet frail disciples. Even the three, the most enlightened

of the twelve, needed a clearer vision of Him and His kingdom, and

strength for trials they were to endure. So they needed His prayers.

"From that time began Jesus to show unto His disciples how that He must

go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things, ... and be killed." He needed

prayer also for Himself. So "Jesus taketh with Him Peter, and James and

John, and bringeth them up into a high mountain apart by themselves."

The favored three, who had witnessed His power in the raising of Jairus'

daughter, were to be witnesses of his glory. Luke says He "went up into

the mountain to pray." Not Tabor,--for which mistaken tradition has

claimed the honor--but Hermon was doubtless the "high mountain." This

kingly height of the Lebanon range was a fitting place for Jesus the

King. The glittering splendor of its snows is a fitting emblem of His

character. It was the highest earthly spot on which He stood. From it He

had His most extensive views. Here He had His most exalted earthly

experience. Peter rightly named it "the Holy Mount" because of its

"glory that excelleth" all other mountains.

We do not know the thoughts or feelings or words of the nine when Jesus

"taketh with Him the three." We wonder whether their wonder was at all

mixed with jealousy. As they saw the three "apart by themselves," their

lessening forms ascending Hermon, and at last hidden from their view by

the evening shades, can it be that the dispute began which cast a gloom

over their Lord when He descended from that mountain of glory?

And the three themselves--what were their emotions as they looked down

upon their companions in the plain below, and upward to the height

whither their Master was bringing them. Did they whisper together

concerning the word He had just spoken--that He must die. They must have

had such mingling of feelings as they never had before.

It was the evening after a Sabbath. At the close of the weary summer

day, after the long and steep ascent of the mountain, and in the strong

mountain air, it is no wonder that the three disciples were "weighted

with sleep."

Luke not only tells us that Jesus went up "to pray" but also that "He

prayed." Would that John had recorded that prayer, as he did those

supplications in the Upper Room and in Gethsemane. "As we understand

it," says Edersheim, "the prayer with them had ceased, or merged into

silent prayer of each, or Jesus now prayed alone and apart."

On the banks of the Jordan, where Jesus and the three had met, while He

"was praying, the heavens were opened," and the dove-like form descended

upon Him, and His Father's voice was heard. And now "as He prayed,"

there came an answer, immediate and glorious: "He was transfigured

before them."

The disciples though "weighted with sleep," "having remained awake, they

saw His glory, and the two men that stood with Him." It was many years

after this vision that John, speaking for the three, testified, "We saw

His glory."

"The fashion of His countenance was altered." "His face did shine as

the sun." "His garments became exceeding white; so as no fuller on earth

can whiten them," "white as the light," "glistering," "dazzling."

"Behold there appeared unto them Moses and Elijah talking with Him." How

did the disciples know the Lawgiver and the Prophet? We are not told.

There may have been given them some supernatural powers of discernment.

They may have known by the conversation between Jesus and His celestial

visitants, as, in earthly language with heavenly tone, they "spoke of

His departure which He was about to accomplish at Jerusalem," of which

He had told them on the plain below.

It was that Moses who fifteen hundred years before came down from Mount

Sinai with the two tables of the law in his hands, when Aaron and the

children of Israel stood in awe before His shining face. But now He had

come, not from the mount which Paul describes as "darkness," but unto

that other whose snowy whiteness has given it the name of Lebanon. He

had come from Heaven, to yield homage to Him to whom He would sing with

us,

"My dear Redeemer and my Lord,

I read my duty in Thy Word;

But in Thy life the Law appears,

Drawn out in living Characters."

"The children of Israel could not look steadfastly upon Moses for the

glory of His face." In the "excellent glory" by which Peter describes

the scene on Hermon, the whole figure of His Lord was bathed in light.

But the glory of that vision was not yet complete. A cloud, brighter

than any on which the moon was shining, enwrapped Jesus and Moses and

Elijah. It was no other than the Shechinah, once more returning to the

earth,--"the symbol of Jehovah's presence."

This cloud overshadowed the disciples. As its light gleamed upon them,

they were filled with reverential fear. They were ready to do the

heavenly visitors immediate and humble service. But the mission of the

two was ended. Their last words of comfort to Jesus had been spoken. If

they could be detained, it must be done quickly. So, awed and confused

by the strange vision, yet longing for its continuance, the disciples,

Peter being the spokesman, proposed to make booths for their Master and

His two heavenly visitors. But the two had gone, and the crown of glory

that had enveloped them spread to the disciples, filling them with yet

increasing awe. The silence that had followed Peter's call was broken.

"There came a voice out of the cloud, This is My Beloved Son; hear ye

Him." Startled by such a response, "they fell on their face and were

sore afraid." They did not dare to look about them. The Cloud of

Glory lifted. How long they lay prostrate and trembling, we do not know.

At last a hand gently touched them. It was the hand of Jesus. His voice

bid them, "Arise, and be not afraid. And when they had lifted up their

eyes they saw no man, save Jesus only."

[Illustration: THE TRANSFIGURATION _Old Engraving_ Page 106]

The Transfiguration was over. Its grand purpose was accomplished. Master

and disciples were prepared for the labors and trials to which they must

return. The night ended. As the morning sun glistened on the peaks of

Hermon, while darkness yet overspread the plain below, Jesus descended

with the three, to the nine awaiting their return.

"And as they were coming down from the mountain, He charged them that

they should tell no man what things they had seen, save when the Son of

Man should have risen again from the dead. And they kept the saying,

questioning among themselves what the raising again from the dead should

mean."

Peter's and John's memories of that vision of their Lord were ever

distinct and precious. When it was no longer a secret, Peter wrote in

ecstasy of the hour in which they "were eyewitnesses of His majesty, ...

when they were with Him in the holy mount."

Let us notice the record by John. In the beginning of his gospel he says

"The Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us." By this he means that

the Son of God became a man, and lived among men who witnessed His

life. But of all the events of that life which John had seen, there was

a special one in his mind, which not all men had witnessed. So he adds,

"We beheld His glory." This probably refers to the Transfiguration and

the Shechinah, which he and Peter and James had seen. And then he thinks

of how much greater Jesus was than John the Baptist, "a man sent from

God," "to bear witness of" Him. He thinks also of the great Lawgiver of

whom he says, "the Law was given through Moses; grace and truth came by

Jesus Christ."

We imagine that ever after the Transfiguration, John thought of Moses

and the Shechinah together. Had he with his companions been permitted to

build three tabernacles or booths, "one for Moses," what delightful

visits John would have made him there, like that one which he had made

in the abode of Jesus on the banks of the Jordan.

[Illustration: MOSES ON MT. PISGAH _Artist Unknown_ Page 109]

I seem to hear Moses telling John something of his own history when on

the earth, and teaching him lessons from it in words like these: "This

is not the first time I have heard the Lord's voice, from out this cloud

of glory. Out of the burning bush He called me, 'Moses, Moses.' At Sinai

He said, 'Lo, I come unto thee in a thick cloud.' And again He appeared

in 'a pillar of a cloud,' and said, 'Behold thou shall sleep with thy

fathers.' I saw not that cloud again on earth until you beheld it. My

thoughts were about death. I prayed about it, not as your Master and

mine has done in preparation therefor, but that I might not then die.

This was my prayer: 'Let me go over I pray Thee and see the good land

that is beyond Jordan, that goodly mountain, and Lebanon,'--the very

mountain where we now are. But the Lord would not hear me. I prayed yet

again more earnestly, and the Lord said unto me, 'Let it suffice thee;

speak no more unto me of this matter.' From yonder mountain of Nebo He

showed me all the land we now see from Hermon; and then I died. The Lord

buried me in yonder land of Moab. No man knoweth my sepulchre unto this

day. I died, my great hope of forty years disappointed. My repeated

earnest prayer was ungranted then, but it has not been unanswered. This

'goodly' Lebanon, to which I looked from Nebo with longing eyes, is more

'goodly' now than when it sadly faded from my dying vision. You, John,

are one of the witnesses to the answer to my dying prayer. Never did the

Shechinah at Horeb, or Sinai, or the Tabernacle, seem so resplendent as

on this Mount Hermon. Here it has enwrapped Elijah and me, the favored

two whose mission Gabriel might have envied. We were sent down from

heaven to talk with Jesus concerning His death, of which He has told

you. In view of it He has lead you, the favored three hither to pray.

It was while He prayed that ye 'beheld His glory.' Not only for me, but

much more for Him, is Hermon _the_ mount--'The Holy Mount,' because the

mount of Prayer, and therefore the mount of Transfiguration."

_CHAPTER XVII_

_St. John's Imperfections_

"Master, we saw one casting out demons in Thy name; and we forbade

him, because he followeth not with us."--_John._

"Lord, wilt Thou that we bid fire to come down from heaven, and

consume them, even as Elijah did?"--_James and John._

"Grant us that we may sit, one on Thy right hand, and one on Thy

left hand, in Thy glory."--_James and John._

"And when the ten heard it, they began to be moved with indignation

concerning James and John."--_Mark_ x. 41.

John was not perfect. There were unlovely traits in his otherwise noble

character. It is not pleasant to write of his faults. We would gladly be

silent concerning them. But there are four reasons for making record of

them. 1. If we think of his virtues and not of his faults, we do not

have a just view of his character; it is one-sided; we have an imperfect

picture. 2. We see how Jesus loved him notwithstanding his

imperfections. While hating his sins he loved the man. 3. Remembering

John's faults, we give him all the more credit when we see how he

overcame them, and what he became under the example and teachings of

Jesus. 4. Having failings ourselves, we are encouraged by the full and

truthful story of John's life, to overcome our own sins. Such are good

reasons why the imperfections of good men like David and Peter and John

are recorded in the Bible.

In speaking of John's boyhood, we hinted at some of his faults. Let us

now notice them more particularly as given by the Evangelists. Sometimes

he was evidently included when Jesus rebuked the disciples for some

wrong they had said or done. On one occasion, he alone is mentioned; on

two others he and his brother James are rebuked together. The first

recorded incident, showing imperfection, is soon after the descent from

Hermon. Jesus seems to have accompanied Peter to his home in Capernaum,

to which the other disciples followed them. The favor which Christ

showed the three in taking them to the mount may have caused a feeling

of pride in them, and of jealousy in the nine. Pride was John's

besetting sin, as we shall see. A great privilege had been granted him.

Without telling the secret of Hermon to his fellow-disciples, he may, by

improper word or act, or both, have shown a feeling of superiority,

which displeased them, as the same spirit did on another occasion. At

any rate, something led to a dispute who should be the greatest in the

kingdom which they believed their Lord was to establish. This was a sad

revelation of the ambitious spirit of these good men. It was probably on

the way to Capernaum that an incident happened in which John seems to

have been the chief actor. He exhibited a spirit of intolerance--a want

of patience and forbearance toward a man whom they met. He was a

disciple of Christ, in whose power he had such faith that he was enabled

to cast out evil spirits in His name. He was doing a good work such as

Christ gave His apostles power to do. They prided themselves in it, and

felt as if they only had a right to it. So John, speaking for the rest,

as if he had authority, forbade this man to use the power any more. On

their reaching the house of Peter, Jesus asked, "What was it that ye

disputed among yourselves by the way?" Perceiving that He knew their

thoughts, they were silent with shame, until one of them, yet

unconquered by His question of reproof, asked Him "Who is the greatest?"

He did not answer the question immediately. As if in preparation for

something special, "He sat down and called the twelve" about Him; He

uttered one reported sentence, "If any man would be first, he shall be

last of all, and minister of all." And then "He called a little child to

Him and set him in the midst of them." It was His object lesson. Through

it He rebuked and taught them. He made childhood a test of character.

With solemnity and earnestness He declared, "Verily I say unto you,

Except ye turn and become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter

into the kingdom of heaven."

That child-spirit included simplicity, meekness, harmlessness,

obedience, dutifulness, trustfulness and, especially at this time,

humility.

The Lord's declaration must have startled the disciples. They thought of

themselves as His chosen ones, superior to others, having special

powers, and destined to special honors which none other might claim. In

a spirit contrary to His declaration, they were contending who should be

the greatest in His kingdom. He revealed to them, then and there, the

nature of that kingdom which they had so greatly misunderstood.

Upon one at least, Christ's lesson was not altogether lost. That was

John. He recalled his proud and unjust treatment of the humble man whom

he had forbidden to do good work in the name of Christ. He saw that his

own spirit had been contrary to that of which Christ had just spoken. He

finally confessed his fault. But the lesson of his Master was not

perfectly learned, or if learned, was not, as we shall see, perfectly

obeyed. Though the beloved, he was still an imperfect, disciple, as is

shown in another incident.

At the time when Jesus lived, and in the country where He journeyed,

travelers were generally welcomed as guests in any home. Though

strangers, they were treated as friends. This was a necessary kindness

because there were no hotels such as we have in our day and country.

But to this hospitality there was a noted exception. We have noticed

the hatred of the Samaritans to the Jews. This was especially shown to

pilgrims going up to Jerusalem to attend the feasts.

Jesus was on His last journey thither. As ever, He was teaching and

healing on the way. His own heart was burdened with the thought of what

He was to endure, but He was steadfast in His purpose to reach the Holy

City, willing there to suffer and to die. Nearing the first Samaritan

village, He sent messengers before Him to prepare for Himself and His

company. Even the common hospitality was refused, and that in a most

unfriendly manner. The Master was treated as a teacher of falsehood.

Even the kind healer was not permitted to enter the village. He was a

Jew on His way to Jerusalem. In the minds of the villagers, this was

more than enough to balance all the good in Him.

James and John especially were indignant at the unkind treatment. They

felt keenly the insult to their Lord, whom they believed was on His way

to Jerusalem to establish His Kingdom, and was worthy of the most

generous hospitality and the sincerest homage. They had a fresh

remembrance of the glory in which they had seen Him on the Holy Mount in

company with Elijah. They were reminded of that prophet's experience

more than nine hundred years before. It was this: Ahaziah, a king of

Israel, was seriously injured by a fall from the balcony of his house.

He sent to inquire of the false god Baal-zebub whether he should

recover. God sent Elijah to reprove him for his idolatry and insult to

Himself. The king sent a captain with fifty men to seize the prophet,

but they were consumed by fire from heaven. Another captain and his

fifty men were also destroyed in like manner.

Such a punishment James and John would call down on the Samaritans. They

felt that it would be just. If fitting for the enemies of Elijah, how

much more for those of Jesus. They were ready to give the command which

God permitted Elijah to give, if Jesus would allow them to do likewise.

And so, being displeased, provoked, revengeful, with a fiery spirit,

they said to Him, "Lord, wilt Thou that we command fire to come down

from heaven, and consume them, even as Elijah did?" But Jesus "turned

and rebuked them," and said, "Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are

of."

It was contrary to the spirit of meekness and love manifest in His

declaration to them, "The Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives,

but to save them." And so He inspired them with another spirit, as He

quietly led them "to another village." We sadly turn to another scene in

which imperfection in the beloved disciple is especially revealed.

The favored brothers had not yet learned perfectly the lesson of

humility which their Lord had tried to teach them. They were still

devoted to Him, following Him, loving Him. But they still misunderstood

what He said about His death, and His kingdom, in which they hoped for

the most honored places. They wanted to be assured of promotion above

their fellow-disciples. They were earnest in an unholy desire. They had

a bold, ambitious request to make of the Lord. It was the chief occasion

on which their pride was revealed. We have two accounts of it. In one of

them the mother Salome appears as the speaker. She brings her sons to

Jesus, prostrates herself before Him, and offers this petition, "Grant

that these my two sons may sit, the one on Thy right hand, and the other

on Thy left, in Thy Kingdom." She had a loving mother's pride. She was

the aunt of Jesus, and perhaps felt that because of this relationship,

her sons had a right which the other Apostles could not claim. She had

given them to His service, and had proved her own love and devotion to

Him by following Him with other women of Galilee, ministering to His

comforts. Meanwhile James and John, according to another account,

themselves urged their mother's request saying, "Grant unto us that we

may sit, one on Thy right hand, and one on Thy left hand, in Thy glory."

Mother and sons shared in the spirit of self-seeking and

self-exaltation. But we must not forget that it was faith in Him as the

Messiah, and in His coming "glory," that led them to show it, though in

a mistaken way.

In sorrow and tenderness, and pity for their ignorance, Jesus replied,

"Ye know not what ye ask." While His eye rested on them, His thoughts

were on another scene. It was a cross with Himself upon it, and a

malefactor on each side, instead of the brothers in their pride. As John

at last stood by it, did he recall the hour of his mistaken ambitious

request, which had never been repeated. There had been no need that the

Lord should say to him, as to Moses, "Ask me not again," yet like Moses,

he was to receive a most glorious answer in another form. In his pride,

with an earthly throne in mind, he had asked, "Grant that I may sit with

Thee in Thy glory?" Having conquered his unholy ambition there was

fulfilled in him the promise of His Lord in glory, "To him that

overcometh will I grant to sit with Me on My throne."

The time came when there was no longer occasion for the other ten

apostles to be "moved with indignation concerning James and John,"

because of their pride and ambitious seeking. This John is the disciple

whom, with all his imperfections, Jesus loved most of all; this the man

known as the most lovable of men; this the one who well-nigh reached

human perfection through his ardent and ever increasing love for Jesus;

this the one who is called _the Apostle of Love_.

_CHAPTER XVIII_

_John and the Family of Bethany_

"He entered into a certain village; and a certain woman named

Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called

Mary, which also sat at the Lord's feet, and heard His

word."--_Luke_ x. 38, 39.

"Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus of Bethany, of the village of

Mary and her sister Martha."--_John_ xi. 1.

"Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus."--_v._ 5.

"Jesus ... said, ... Lazarus is dead."--_v._ 14.

"Jesus wept."--_v._ 35.

"He cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. He that was dead

came forth."--_vs._ 43, 44.

"As he (John) gives us so much more than the synoptists about the

family at Bethany, we may infer that he was a more intimate friend

of Lazarus and his sisters."--_A. Plummer, D.D._

In four sentences Luke draws an unfinished picture of a family group,

whose memory has become especially precious because of what John has

added to it. His probable familiarity with the family made this

possible. No wonder if he felt that the original picture must be

enlarged and retouched. The place where that family lived had become to

him too sacred a spot to be called simply "a certain village." Martha

was more than "a certain woman," who though hospitable, was distracted

in her housekeeping. Mary was fairer than Luke had painted her. John

had seen her do more than sit at Jesus' feet. He manifestly felt that

the resurrection of Lazarus was too great an event to be omitted from

the gospel story, as it was by the other Evangelists who, when they

wrote, might have endangered the life of Him whom the Jews sought to

destroy. John's heart demanded a stronger tribute to Mary than Matthew

or Mark had given. Let him be our guide to the blessed home. With his

eyes let us see Jesus' relation to it, and with his ears listen to the

Master's words there spoken.

[Illustration: BETHANY _Old Engraving_ Page 120]

As he opens the door we see a family of wealth, refinement, hospitality

and affection. Its members are of kindred spirit with him: and so would

be attracted to him, and he to them. But there was a special bond of

union. "Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus." Such is the

tender passing remark of John who elsewhere calls himself "the disciple

whom Jesus loved." These four form a group of special objects of

Christ's affection. They ardently loved Him. We may suppose that John's

relation to the family of Bethany was closer than that of any other

disciple. This fitted him to make us familiar with their characters, and

many incidents of their home.

John was with Jesus in Bethany in Peræa, when there came the sad, brief,

confiding message from Mary and Martha, "Lord, behold, he whom Thou

lovest is sick." Doubtless it touched the heart of the apostle as well

as that of his Master, whose response he records: "This sickness is not

unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be

glorified thereby." We are reminded of John's own words concerning the

change of water into wine: "This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana

of Galilee, and manifested forth His glory."

Jesus' plan for Lazarus included a delay of two days in Bethany of

Peræa. Meanwhile His heart went out toward Bethany in Judæa. So did

John's. But, though Jesus tarried, it can be said, as on another

occasion, "He Himself knew what He would do." While John was wondering,

waiting and watching, perhaps he remembered how the nobleman's son was

healed in Capernaum when Jesus was in Cana, and thought it possible that

the messenger would be told to say to the sisters, "Thy brother liveth."

When at last Jesus proposed to His disciples that they all go to Judæa,

John's love may have contended for a moment with fear, as they

protested, because of danger from His enemies: but it was for a moment

only. When Jesus said, "Let us go unto him," we almost wonder that it

was not John the loving, nor Peter the bold, but Thomas the sometimes

unready, that said concerning Jesus, "Let us also go that we may die

with Him." But we imagine that John was the readiest to go, and kept

the closest to his Master in the pathway to Bethany in Judæa.

"Our friend Lazarus sleepeth," said Jesus. Though all of the disciples

were thus addressed, we think of John as especially including Jesus and

himself in that word "our," because of the nearness of their relation to

the afflicted family. And then that other word "sleepeth"--it must have

carried him, as well as James and Peter, back to the home of Jairus,

where they heard the same voice to which they were now listening say,

"The child is not dead but sleepeth."

We almost wonder that the three did not turn to their fellow-disciples

and say that "Jesus had spoken of the _death_ of Lazarus," while "they

thought that He spake of taking rest in sleep." But evidently not so;

and when Jesus "said unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead," doubtless John

was the saddest of them all, because of his special interest in him. The

full record--the only one of what transpired in that sad, joyful

home--shows how closely John watched every movement of Jesus and the

sisters, and how carefully he noted what they said. We may give credit

to his memory, even with the aid which he says was promised the

disciples in their remembrance. He notes the coming of Martha to meet

Jesus, while "Mary sat still in the house;" Martha's plaintive cry,

"Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died;" the

conversation between her and Jesus concerning the resurrection; the

sudden change from it to His asking for Mary; Martha's return to the

house and whispering in her sister's ear, "The Master is come and

calleth for thee;" the hurried obedience to the call--all these

incidents are recorded by John with the particularity and vividness of

an eyewitness.

It appears as if Jesus would not perform the intended miracle until the

arrival of Mary. John's account of their meeting is full of pathos. He

watches her coming, notices the moment she catches sight of Him through

her tears, and her first act of falling down at His feet, and her

repetition of Martha's cry, "Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother

had not died." He looks into the faces of both as "Jesus sees her

weeping." He contrasts Mary's real and deep sorrow with the outward and

heartless outcries of pretended grief, at which Jesus "groans in

spirit," because a seeming mockery in the presence of His loving friend.

John measures the depth of the Lord's "troubled" spirit by His outward

movements. He opens to us His heart of hearts in the brief, tender

record, "Jesus wept." Where in the whole story of His life do we gain a

keener sense of His humanity, especially His tenderness and sympathy.

What a revelation we would have missed if John had been silent, but the

emotion of His own heart had been too deep to allow any such omission.

"Jesus wept." As Professor Austin Phelps declares, "The shortest verse

in the Bible is crowded with suggestions."

While John is our guide to the tomb of Lazarus, and more than that, the

sincere mourner with the afflicted sisters, he is yet more the disciple

of Jesus, receiving new and lasting impressions of divine truth and of

his Master, which are embodied in his story.

John recorded seven miracles of our Lord. The first was that of turning

water into wine. The last was the raising of Lazarus. In both of them He

points us to the same glorious purpose. He says that in the first,

Christ "manifested forth His glory," and that the second was "for the

glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby." And now

standing with Martha by the yet unopened tomb, John hears their Lord

remind her of His assurance that if she believed, she "should see the

glory of God." That hour had come. The Lord had commanded, "Take ye away

the stone." John was most attentive to every act of the passing scene.

His eyes glanced from the stone to his Lord. As soon as the command

concerning it was obeyed Jesus lifted His eyes upward, and said,

"Father"--calling upon Him with whom He was to be glorified.

John had stood at the bedside of the only daughter of Jairus, and heard

the command, "Damsel, I say unto thee, Arise." By the bier of the

widow's only son he had probably heard that other, "Young man, I say

unto thee, Arise." And now standing by the open door of the tomb of the

only brother, was He not listening for a like command? He had not long

to wait. The prayer of his Lord was ended. The tone of prayer was

changed to that of command. "He cried with a loud voice, Lazarus come

forth. And he that was dead came forth." John describes his appearance.

He was "bound hand and foot with grave clothes, and his face was bound

about with a napkin." When Jesus saith unto them, "Loose him and let him

go"--away from the excitement and curiosity of the heartless

mourners--who was so ready as John to obey the command, while welcoming

his friend back to life? Who could so fittingly escort him from the

darkened tomb to the relighted home, with the sisters still weeping--but

for joy.

In John's old age when he recalled this resurrection scene, he seems to

have had a special memory of the younger sister's sorrow. He speaks of

the "Jews which came to Mary" in the hour of her sadness.

But His memory of that resurrection day was tinged with gloom. He traced

back, from the cross on Calvary to the tomb in Bethany, the way by which

his Lord had been led by His enemies. "From that day forth they took

counsel together for to put Him to death."

[Illustration: THE RESURRECTION OF LAZARUS _Old Engraving_ Page 126]

It is tradition, not John, which tells us concerning Lazarus that the

first question which he asked Christ after He was restored to life was

whether He must die again; and that being told that he must, he was

never more seen to smile. But John, better than tradition, tells of

another scene in which we imagine his smiles were not restrained. To it

let us turn.

_CHAPTER XIX_

_John's Memorial of Mary_

"When Jesus was in Bethany, ... there came unto Him a woman having

an alabaster cruse of exceeding precious ointment, and she poured

it upon his head, as He sat at meat."--_Matt._ xxvi. 6, 7.

"Verily I say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shall be preached

in the whole world, that also which this woman hath done shall be

spoken of for a memorial of her."--_Matt._ xxvi. 13.

"It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped

His feet with her hair."--_John_ xi. 2.

"There is something touchingly fraternal in the momentary pleasure

which He (Christ) appears to have taken in the gift of the

alabaster box."--_Austin Phelps._

"Her eyes are homes of silent prayer,

Nor other thought her mind admits

But, he was dead, and there he sits,

And He that brought him back is there.

"Then one deep love doth supersede

All other, when her ardent gaze

Rose from the living brother's face,

And rests upon the life indeed."

--_Tennyson._

That is an impressive picture drawn by Saints Matthew and Mark, of a

scene in Bethany, where an unnamed woman brought a flask of ointment

which she poured on the head of Jesus, thus exciting murmuring and

indignation against her, who was defended by Him, with assurance of

perpetual remembrance of her deed.

Yet a comparison of the accounts of these two Evangelists with the story

given by John, suggest the thought that he was not satisfied with the

picture. His remembrance of the things that happened before and after

that scene, his friendship for the family of Bethany, his understanding

of the Master's feelings and thoughts, his sense of justice to himself

and to his fellow-disciples, the omission of an important figure in the

grouping, and especially his tender sympathy for the unnamed heroine of

the story--these things demanded in his mind additions and re-touchings

to make the picture complete.

Let us imagine ourselves before him while he is reading the manuscripts

of Matthew and Mark, long after they were written. He tells us of

incidents, unmentioned by them, that enlarge and make clearer our view

of the scene. We note the impressions we may suppose were made on him at

the time of the event, and were still fresh in his old age when he tells

the story.

"I remember distinctly"--so he might say--"this scene in Bethany, both

what these two writers report, and what they do not. The hour was

drawing near when my Lord must die. So He had told me; but somehow I

did not understand that this must be. It seems strange to me now that I

did not, as well as one of my friends did, who realized the nearness of

the sad hour. I had arrived with Him at Bethany 'where Lazarus was which

had been dead, whom He raised from the dead.' It was a great joy to meet

again the friend whom I had welcomed from the tomb."

It is true, as here written by Mark, that Jesus "sat at meat." But this

does not tell the whole story. The people of Bethany wished to unite in

doing Him honor: "So they made Him a supper there." It was fitting that

it should be "in the house of Simon" whom Jesus had healed from leprosy,

and who was probably a relative or special friend of the family loved by

Jesus. I wonder that their names do not appear in the story given by

these two Evangelists: I could not forget them. I remember how "Martha

served" at the table, as if in her own home, seeming more of a hostess

than a guest; and how "Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table

with Him" who had bid him rise from the tomb; and how Mary showed her

gratitude for her brother's restoration, and love for his Restorer. To

me that supper loses half its interest without the mention of these

names, so suggestive of near relation to the Lord. Here I read, "There

came unto Him a woman." That is indeed true; but I find no hint of who

this unknown woman was. Could Matthew probably present, have forgotten

it? Had Mark absent, never been told?

Matthew says she had "an alabaster cruse of precious ointment," which

Mark explains was "spikenard very costly." This also is truly said, for

I learned that "Mary ... took a _pound_ of ointment of spikenard very

precious." This she could well afford. Some have suggested that perhaps,

like oriental girls of fashion, she had bought it in her pride, but

after coming under the influence of Jesus, had left it unused. But I am

more inclined to believe she intended it from the first as an expression

of overflowing love.

Mark says "she broke the cruse." I remember, as she crushed the neck of

it, all eyes were turned upon her, watching her movements. Lazarus,

reclining at the table, gazed upon her with brotherly interest; and

Martha, moving around it glanced at her with sisterly affection. There

was one man whose expression was something more than curiosity. In it

there was a shade of displeasure.

These two Evangelists tell that Mary "poured the ointment upon" and

"over" the "head" of Jesus. This was a common custom in rendering honor

and adoration. But it did not satisfy Mary, if the Lord could only say

with David, "Thou anointest my _head_." Her anointing was so profuse

that He could say,--as Matthew testifies that He did--"She poured this

ointment upon My body." But I would testify to another act, fuller yet

of meaning. She "anointed the _feet_ of Jesus." This meant far more than

the washing of feet, as an humble act of hospitality and honor. It was

an unusual act of adoration. I saw bathed in spikenard what I have since

seen bathed in blood. But that was not all. Making of her long tresses a

fine but unwoven towel, "she wiped His feet with her hair"; kneeling in

devotion where she had loved to sit in learning.

I noticed the glowing rapture in her face, and an occasional glance into

that of her Lord, unmindful of the presence of all others, while He

looked kindly upon her. It was then that I discovered that "the house

was filled with the odor of the ointment." But, alas, not so with the

perfume of her deed. "There were some that had indignation among

themselves, ... and they murmured against her": so says Mark. "When the

disciples" saw Mary's deed "they had indignation": so says Matthew. It

is true that signs of dissatisfaction came from the group of the

disciples, but it is the voice of one of them that has ever since rung

in my ears, to whom "the unworthy grumbling should be assigned." In

justice to the disciples he should not be unnamed. Mary was still in the

act of her devotion to Jesus. "But Judas Iscariot, one of His disciples,

which should betray Him, saith, 'Why was not this ointment sold for

three hundred pence, and given to the poor?' This he said, not because

he cared for the poor"--not he--"but because he was a thief and, having

the bag, took away what was put therein." He it was who from the first

showed displeasure at Mary's act. His words were both an exclamation and

a question, a sort of soliloquy, and yet addressed to anybody who might

hear and answer: but they needed no answer. It was too late to gather up

the ointment already used, and sell it for the poor or for any other

purpose. But Judas' purpose I well understand. I see through his

hypocrisy now more clearly than I did then.

[Illustration: TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM _Gustave Doré_ Page 138]

With the sharp, reproving voice of Judas, Mary glanced into his angry

face. This would have filled her with terror had she not immediately

looked into that of Jesus beaming upon her. One hand of His was over

her, as if in protection and benediction, while the other waved in a

reproving gesture. As I read how He answered the question of Judas with

another, "Why trouble ye her?" and then commanded, "Let her alone"; and

then declared, "She hath wrought a good work upon me," I recall the

changing expressions of His face, and His tones of indignation and

affection.

I was startled by the reason He gave for letting her alone,--that she

might preserve what remained of the ointment, not for the poor, but to

be used for His burial, near at hand.

She it was of whom I have spoken who understood better than I or any of

my fellow-apostles, that our Lord's life was nearing its end.

I find here in the records of Matthew and Mark the assurance of the Lord

concerning the unnamed woman of whom they have written. It is this,

"Verily I say unto you, 'Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in

the whole world, that also which this woman hath done shall be spoken of

for a memorial of her.' Let it be known that this woman was Mary of

Bethany, then at Jesus' feet. Henceforth let her name be linked with her

deed."

Thus ends the words we have imagined St. John might have spoken with the

Gospels of Matthew and Mark in his hand. The additions to their story

are suggested by his own Gospel. He has drawn a beautiful picture of

Mary, in brighter colors and more delicate shades than has any other. To

him artists are chiefly indebted for their ideas of her. His own

character was so completely in harmony with hers that he understood what

his fellows did not. By them she was misjudged and condemned; he saw and

admired the sweetness of her spirit, and the purity and nobleness of her

motive. Upon the monument reared by other Evangelists, he inserted her

name. In her he saw a reflection of her Lord and his. His memory and

his record alone secured for her in particular the fulfilment of the

Lord's prophecy concerning the remembrance of her deed. Every Christian

home in the whole world has been, or will be, filled with the spiritual

fragrance of her offering. But the prophecy is more than fulfilled. That

which she hath done is not only "_spoken of_," for in many a home

inspired by her spirit, her name has been given as a memorial of her

whom John distinguished from all others as "that Mary which anointed the

Lord with ointment and wiped His feet with her hair." It was of Mary

that Jesus said, "She hath done what she could."

John's picture of her is all the brighter because of his dark background

of Judas. He has forever associated their names in contrast. In his

mind, the anointing was ever suggestive of the betrayal. He remembered

how the "thief" asked his hypocritical question at the moment of the

greatest perfume; and how Judas was planning the betrayal while Mary was

meditating on the death to which it would lead. It appears almost

certain that Judas, stung by the Lord's reproof of him and defence of

Mary, ready to sell his Lord's body for a less sum than he valued the

ointment, turned from the feast in anger, hastening to the chief priest

with the cursed question and promise, "What will ye give me, and I will

deliver Him unto you?" Wheresoever the gospel is preached throughout

the whole world, that also which _this man_ hath done is spoken of--but

not for a memorial of him.

John's picture of Mary, Judas and Jesus is a most suggestive grouping.

What harmony and contrast! What light and shade! What revelation of love

and hate, of friendship and enmity, of devotion and sacrilege! To no

other scene does Christ sustain quite the same relation. The friendship

of His first feast--that of Cana--is deeper and tenderer in His last, at

Bethany.

There is something sublime in this Son of God having all power, pleading

with Judas that Mary might be permitted to continue her service of love

for Him.

Add John's own likeness to the three at whom we have been looking, and

what a grouping we have--Jesus with His loved Mary, and John the most

beautiful illustration of human friendship, and Judas the _betrayer_.

Let imagination complete what no artist has attempted.

When John recalls the odors of Mary's ointment filling the house, he

seems to catch a refrain from Solomon's song, and addresses it to

her,--"Thine ointments have a goodly fragrance; thy name is as ointment

poured forth; therefore do the maidens love thee."

It is not the "maidens" alone, especially the Marys of Christendom,

that "love" her, but all to whom the gospel is preached, who join in

John's refrain, while thanking him for his "memorial of her."

_CHAPTER XX_

_John a Herald of the King_

PROPHECY:

"Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of

Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: ... lowly, and riding

upon ... a colt."--_Zech._ ix. 9.

PROPHECY FULFILLED:

"He sent two of his disciples, saying, Go your way into the village

over against you; in the which as ye enter ye shall find a colt

tied: ... loose him, and bring him.... And they brought him to

Jesus: and they threw their garments upon the colt, and set Jesus

thereon."--_Luke_ xix. 30, 35.

PROPHECY UNDERSTOOD:

"These things understood not His disciples at the first: but when

Jesus was glorified, then remembered they that these things were

written of Him, and that they had done these things unto

Him."--_John_ xii. 16.

"Daughter of Zion! Virgin Queen! Rejoice!

Clap the glad hand and lift th' exulting voice!

He comes,--but not in regal splendor drest,

The haughty diadem, the Tyrian vest;

Not arm'd in flame, all glorious from afar,

Of hosts the chieftain, and the lord of war:

Messiah comes!--let furious discord cease;

Be peace on earth before the Prince of Peace!"

--_Heber's Palestine_.

Zechariah foretold the coming of Christ five hundred years before the

angels over Bethlehem heralded His birth. The prophets saw Him as the

Messiah-king, but not such a ruler as most of the Jews of Christ's day

expected. Even the disciples, believing Him to be the Messiah, had

mistaken views of His kingdom. Yet He was the King foretold by the

prophets; the Son of David who sang of Him as the "King" and as the

"Lord's anointed"; the Messiah or Christ; the king of the Jews not only,

but of all men. As such He would make a triumphal entry into the "City

of the Great King." This would not be in the pride and pomp of an

earthly conqueror, but in the "lowly" manner which Zechariah had

foretold.

All the accounts of Jesus' journeyings leave the impression that He went

a-foot. Only once do we know that He rode; that was in fulfilment of

prophecy. That prophecy He purposed to fulfil the day after the feast of

Bethany. This was intended by Christ to be His royal and Messianic entry

into Jerusalem. The hour had come. A colt unused, and so fitted by

custom for sacred purposes, was ready for His use. Having left the

village "He sent two of His disciples to bring it to Him." These two are

understood to be Peter and John, for whose united service He would soon

call again. We may think of the owner of the colt as friendly toward

their Master. When told by the disciples, "The Lord hath need of him,"

he was ready to serve Him by the loan of his beast. That

"need"--whatever the owner or the disciples thought--was not so much to

aid in Christ's journey as to make true the prophetic words concerning

Him, "Thy King cometh ... riding upon ... a colt."

The two disciples "brought him to Jesus, and they threw their garments

upon the colt, and set Jesus thereon."

We may think of Peter and John, having arranged for the royal ride, as

heralds of their Lord, leading the procession from Bethany, and the

first to greet with signal and shout the other coming from Jerusalem.

Beside their King, perhaps leading the colt on which they had placed

Him, they would be the first to tread where "a very great multitude

spread their garments in the way," and others "branches from the trees,"

and yet others "layers of leaves which they had cut from the

fields"--thus carpeting the road winding around the slope of Olivet.

Were not Peter and John leaders in song when "at the descent at the

Mount of Olives the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice

and praise God," and especially when "the City of David" came into view?

The joyful strains were from the Psalms of David--"Hosanna to the Son of

David, Hosanna in the Highest Blessed is the kingdom that cometh, the

kingdom of our Father David. Blessed is the King that cometh in the

name of the Lord; peace in heaven, and glory in the highest."

[Illustration: CHRIST AND ST. JOHN _Ary Scheffer_ Page 155]

In that last strain it would almost seem as if the angelic song of

thirty-three years before, over the plain of Bethlehem, had not yet died

away, and was echoed from Olivet.

In that hour did John and James have thoughts about sitting one on the

right hand and the other on the left in a kingdom which seemed near at

hand? Did they and the other disciples, who had been disappointed

because their Lord had refused on the shore of Galilee to be made king,

imagine that He certainly would now be willing to be crowned in

Jerusalem?

When John wrote his account of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, he

recalled the prophecy concerning it. It is claimed that he speaks of

himself and Peter in particular when he says, "These things understood

not the disciples at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then

remembered they that these things were written, and that they had done

these things unto Him." This was a frank confession of his own dulness

and ignorance: it is also an assurance of his later wisdom.

We see John on the highway of Olivet, a chosen disciple to aid His Lord

in the hour of His earthly glory. We shall see him, even down to old

age, in a yet nobler sense, a Herald of the King.

_CHAPTER XXI_

_With the Master on Olivet_

"Some spake of the Temple, how it was adorned with goodly stones

and offerings."--_Luke_ xxi. 5.

"One of His disciples saith unto Him, Master, behold, what manner

of stones and what manner of buildings! And Jesus said unto him,

Seest thou these great buildings? There shall not be left here one

stone upon another, which shall not be thrown down."

"As He sat on the Mount of Olives over against the Temple, Peter

and James and John and Andrew asked Him privately, Tell us, when

shall these things be? and, What shall be the sign when these

things are all about to be accomplished?"--_Mark_ xiii. 1-4.

The Temple was the most sacred of all places, even before the Lord of

the Temple entered it. His presence became its chiefest glory. In the

hour when the waiting Simeon at last could there say "he had seen the

Lord's Christ," it had a new consecration, and a beauty which its

richness of materials and adornments had never given. In the hour when

He there said to His mother, "Wist ye not that I must be in My Father's

House?" or, "I must be about My Father's business," it was more

consecrated still. Twice He had cleansed it from the profanation of

unholy worshipers. Within it He had spoken as no man had ever done. It

had been a theatre of His divine power.

That was a sad and solemn hour in the last week of His life when, as

Matthew says, "Jesus went out and departed from the Temple." That was

His farewell to it. With sadness He thought not only that He would never

return to it for a blessed ministry of word and healing, but that the

place itself would be destroyed. As He led His disciples from it, their

minds were also upon the Holy House: but their thoughts were not His

thoughts. They had long been familiar with its magnificence, from the

day when each of them, at twelve years of age, for the first time had

gazed upon it in wonder and admiration. We do not know why, as they were

turning away from it and walked toward Olivet, "some spake of the

Temple, how it was adorned with goodly stones and offerings," nor why

"one of His disciples saith unto Him, Master, behold what manner of

stones, and what manner of buildings!" But so they did. Doubtless they

were surprised and disappointed that the Lord did not respond with like

spirit to their enthusiastic exclamations. Were not such richness and

beauty worthy of even His admiration? Why His momentary silence? Why His

sadness of expression, as He looked toward the Temple, beholding it as

they bid Him do, but manifestly with different purpose and feeling from

what they intended? His appearance seemed most inconsistent with the

glorious view. His response was startling,--"Seest thou these great

buildings? There shall not be left here one stone upon another, which

shall not be thrown down."

The astonished disciples were silenced, but an unspoken question was in

the minds of some of them. Christ turned aside and ascended the

mountain, taking with Him the chosen three, Peter, James and John. On

this occasion Andrew is added to the private company. Once more we see

by themselves the two pair of brothers with whom in their boyhood we

became familiar in Bethsaida. We are reminded of the days when they sat

together on the sea-shore, the time when they were watching for the

coming of the Messiah with whom they now "sat on the Mount of Olives

over against the Temple." Two days before, in the road below He had also

prophesied of the destruction of the city, as He gazed upon it through

His tears. Now He was on the summit, directly opposite the Temple, from

which the city was spread out before Him. To me it is still a delight in

thought, as it was in reality, to stand where they sat, and look down

upon the same Temple area, and think of the Holy and Beautiful House, as

it appeared before the sad prophecy had been fulfilled.

On this spot the poet Milman makes Titus to stand just before the

destruction of Jerusalem, with determination and yet with misgiving,

looking down on the city in its pride and the Temple in its

gorgeousness, and saying:

"Yon proud City!

As on our Olive-crowned hill we stand,

Where Kidron at our feet its scanty waters

Distills from stone to stone with gentle motion,

As through a valley sacred to sweet Peace,

How boldly doth it front us! How majestically!

Like as a luxurious vineyard, the hillside

Is hung with marble fabrics, line o'er line,

Terrace o'er terrace, nearer still, and nearer

To the blue Heavens. Here bright and sumptuous palaces,

With cool and verdant gardens interspersed;

Here towers of war that frown in massy strength;

While over all hangs the rich purple eve,

As conscious of its being her last farewell

Of light and glory to the fated city.

And as our clouds of battle, dust and smoke

Are melted into air, behold the Temple

In undisturbed and lone serenity,

Finding itself a solemn sanctuary

In the profound of Heaven! It stands before us

A mount of snow, fettered with golden pinnacles!

The very sun, as though he worshiped there,

Lingers upon the gilded cedar roofs;

And down the long and branching porticoes,

On every flowery, sculptured capital,

Glitters the homage of His parting beams.

.... The sight might almost win

The offended majesty of Rome to mercy."

But Roman majesty was not to be won to mercy. To the Twelve, Christ had

foretold the destruction of the city. And now when the four were alone

with Him, they "asked Him privately, tell us when shall these things

be." For wise reasons Jesus did not tell. But one of them at least would

learn both when and what these things would be. This was John. His

tender and loving heart was to bleed with the horrible story of the fall

of Jerusalem. There hunger and famine would be so dire that mothers

would slay and devour their own children. Multitudes would die of

disease and pestilence. Rage and madness would make the city like a cage

of wild beasts. Thousands would be carried away into captivity. The most

beautiful youths would be kept to show the triumph of their conqueror.

Some of them would be doomed to work in chains in Egyptian mines. Young

boys and girls would be sold as slaves. Many would be slain by wild

beasts and gladiators. Saddest of all would be the Temple scenes. Though

Titus command its preservation his infuriated soldiery will not spare

it. On its altar there would be no sacrifice because no priest to offer

it. That altar would be heaped with the slain. Streams of blood would

flow through the temple courts, and thousands of women perish in its

blazing corridors. The time was to come when John, recalling his

question on Olivet and his Lord's prophecy concerning Jerusalem, could

say,

"All is o'er, Her grandeur and her guilt."

Was he the one of the disciples who hailed the Master, saying, "Behold

what manner of stones, and what manner of buildings!"? If so, with what

emotions he must have recalled his exclamation after the prophecy of

their destruction had been fulfilled. Outliving all his fellow-apostles

the time came when he could stand alone where once he stood with Peter

and James and Andrew, not asking questions "When shall these things be?"

and, "What shall be the sign when these things are all about to be

accomplished?" but repeating the lament of Bishop Heber over Jerusalem

in ruins:

"Reft of thy son, amid thy foes forlorn,

Mourn, widow'd Queen; forgotten Zion, mourn.

Is this thy place, sad city, this thy throne,

Where the wild desert rears its craggy stone;

Where suns unblessed their angry luster fling,

And way-worn pilgrims seek the scanty spring?

Where now thy pomp, which kings with envy viewed?

Where now thy might which all those kings subdued?

No martial myriads muster in thy gate;

No suppliant nations in thy temple wait;

No prophet bards, thy glittering courts among,

Wake the full lyre, and swell the tide of song:

But lawless force and meagre want are there,

And the quick-darting eye of restless fear,

While cold oblivion, 'mid thy ruins laid,

Folds its dank wing beneath the ivy shade."

_CHAPTER XXII_

_John a Provider for the Passover_

"He sent Peter and John, saying, Go and make ready for us the

Passover, that we may eat."--_Luke_ xxii. 8.

"And they went ... and they made ready the Passover."--_v._ 13.

The last time we saw Judas was when he left the feast of Bethany,

murmuring at Mary's deed, angry at the Lord's defence of her, and

plotting against Him. "From that time He sought opportunity to betray

Him."

"The day ... came on which the Passover must be sacrificed." A lamb must

be provided and slain in the Temple for Jesus and His disciples.

Moreover a place must be provided for them to eat it. This preparation

would naturally fall on Judas, the treasurer of the company, whom at a

later hour the disciples thought Jesus instructed to buy some things for

the feast. The place in Jesus' mind was yet a secret, unknown to the

disciples, including Judas who could not therefore reveal it to His

enemies. Who shall be entrusted with the service which He needed, and be

in sympathy with Him in the solemn approaching hour? Not Judas. The two

who had been the heralds of the King should be His messengers. So "He

sent Peter and John saying, Go and make ready for us the Passover that

we may eat." Again and again we shall find Peter and John together in

circumstances of joy and sorrow, trial and triumph. Their first question

was a very natural one, "Where wilt Thou that we make ready?" The Lord's

secret was not at once revealed. He gave them a sign by which their

question would be answered--another proof of His divine fore-knowledge.

He told them to go into the city, entering which they would find a man

bearing a pitcher of water. Him they were to follow to the house he

entered, and tell its owner of His purpose to keep the Passover there.

In a furnished room they were to prepare for His coming. They were full

of curiosity, but had no doubt concerning the result of their errand.

They trusted Him who had entrusted them with it.

Soon at the public fountain they were watching for the servant who

should be their guide. Having done "as Jesus appointed them," they

"found as He said unto them." As instructed they said "unto the goodman

of the house, The Master saith unto thee, Where is the guest-chamber

where I shall eat the Passover with My disciples?"

"The goodman of the house" is the only name by which this owner has

been known. Some have thought He was Joseph of Arimathæa; others the

Father of Saint Mark; others Mark himself. It is the name by which Jesus

has called Him; that is honor enough. Without doubt he was a friend of

the Lord. Perhaps like Nicodemus he had come to Him privately for

instruction. He was ready to do what he could for His necessities when

homeless in Jerusalem. He was ready to give Him a place of protection

when, that very night, His enemies were seeking His life. Peter and John

may never have met this unnamed disciple before. If so, it was doubtless

the beginning of an acquaintance close and tender between them and him

who was "the last host of the Lord, and the first host of His Church."

He showed them "a large upper room." It was probably reached, as in many

oriental houses, by outside stairs. It was the choicest and most retired

room. The goodman led the disciples into it. They found it "furnished"

with a table, and couches around it on which Jesus and His company could

recline. But this probably was not all. The table was "prepared" with

some of the provisions required for the feast. These included the cakes

of unleavened bread, the five kinds of bitter herbs, and the wine mixed

with water for the four cups which it was the custom to use.

But there was something more which Peter and John must do to "make

ready" for the feast. It was the most important thing of all. It was to

prepare the "Paschal Lamb." With such a lamb they had been familiar from

childhood. As their fathers brought it into their homes, and their

mothers roasted it, and parents and children gathered about it in solemn

worship, the Bethsaidan boys had no thought of the day when the Messiah

would bid them prepare for the feast of which He Himself would be the

host, at the only time apparently when He acted as such.

When John was pointed by the Baptist to Jesus, he had no thought that He

would prepare the last Lamb for Him whom He was to see sacrificed as

"the Lamb of God." No wonder that Jesus sent Peter and John to make

ready, instead of Judas the usual provider, who in the same hour "sought

opportunity to betray Him."

We follow them from the house of the goodman toward the Temple. Nearing

it they listen with mournful solemnity to the chanting of the

eighty-first Psalm, with its exhortation to praise,--"Sing aloud unto

God our strength. Blow up the trumpet in the new moon, in the time

appointed, on the solemn feast day." Then they listen for the threefold

blast of the silver trumpets. By this they know that the hour has come

for the slaying of the lambs. Peter and John enter the court of the

priests, and slay their lamb whose blood is caught by a priest in a

golden bowl, and carried to the Great Altar.

Of this they must have been reminded a few hours later when Christ spoke

of His own blood shed for the remission of sins. John must have

remembered it when he saw and wrote of the "blood and water" that flowed

from the pierced side of his Lord. While the lamb is being slain the

priests are chanting, and the people responding, "Hallelujah: Blessed is

He that cometh in the Name of the Lord."

The lamb of sacrifice, slain and cleansed and roasted, is carried by the

two disciples on staves to the upper room. After lighting the festive

lamps, they have obeyed their Lord's command, "Make ready the Passover."

Meanwhile He and the remaining ten, as the sun is setting, descend the

Mount of Olives, from which He takes His last view of the holy but fated

city. The disciples follow Him, still awed by what He had told them of

its fate, and with forebodings of what awaited Him and them. Among them

was the traitor carrying his terrible secret, bent on its awful purpose

which is unknown to the nine, but well known to the Master. Thus they go

to the upper room where Peter and John are ready to receive them.

In Jesus' message to the goodman He said, "I will keep the Passover at

thy house with My disciples." They were His family. He chose to be

alone with them. Not even the mothers Mary and Salome, nor Nicodemus on

this night, nor the family of Bethany, could be of His company. No Mary

was here to anoint His feet with ointment; nor woman who had been a

sinner to bathe them with her tears. Lazarus was not one of them that

sat with them; nor did "Martha serve." It was the twelve whom He had

chosen, and who had continued with Him. It was to His apostolic family

that He said, "With desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you

before I suffer." And so "He sat down with the twelve" alone, the only

time--as is supposed--that He ever ate the Passover meal with His

disciples.

That room became of special interest to John. Sent by his Master to find

it, he was mysteriously guided thither. There he was welcomed by the

good owner of the house, who united with him in preparation for the most

memorable feast ever held. It is there that we see him in closest

companionship with his Lord. It was the place in Jesus' mind when He

said, "Go and make ready for us the Passover." "Where shall we go?"

asked John. He found answer when he entered that upper room. Because of

his relation thereto it has been called "St. John's Room"--more sacred

than any "Jerusalem Chamber," so named, or any "St. John's Cathedral!"

_CHAPTER XXIII_

_John's Memories of the Upper Room_

"When the hour was come, He sat down, and the apostles with

him."--_Luke_ xxii. 14.

"There was at the table reclining in Jesus' bosom one of His

disciples, whom Jesus loved."--_John_ xiii. 23.

Three Evangelists leave the door of the upper room standing ajar.

Through it we can see much that is passing, and hear much that is said.

John coming after them opens it wide, thus enlarging our view and

increasing our knowledge.

Luke says of Jesus, "He sat down and the apostles with Him." That is a

very simple statement. We might suppose all was done in quietness and

harmony. But he tells us of a sad incident which happened, probably in

connection with it. "There arose also a contention among them which of

them is accounted to be greatest." The question in dispute was possibly

the order in which they should sit at the table. They still had the

spirit of the Pharisees who claimed that such order should be according

to rank.

We wonder how John felt. Did he have any part in that contention; or had

he put away all such ambition since the Lord had reproved him and his

brother James for it? Or was his near relation to the Lord so well

understood that there was no question by anybody where John might

sit--next to the Master?

Let us notice the manner of sitting at meals. The table was surrounded

by a divan on which the guests reclined on their left side, with the

head nearest the table, and the feet extending outward.

"There was at the table reclining in Jesus' bosom one of His disciples,

whom Jesus loved." This is the first time John thus speaks of himself.

He never uses his own name. His place was at the right of the Lord.

There he reclined during the meal, once changing his position, as we

shall see. Judas was probably next to Jesus on His left. This allowed

them to talk together without others knowing what they said.

John begins his story of the upper room as a supplement to Luke's record

of the contention. He first tells two things about Jesus,--His knowledge

that His hour "was come that He should depart out of this world unto the

Father," and His great and constant love for His disciples. With these

two thoughts in mind, how grieved He must have been at the ambitious

spirit of the Apostles. He had once given them a lesson of humility,

using a little child for an object lesson. That lesson was not yet

learned; or if learned was not yet put into practice. So He gave them

another object lesson, having still more meaning than the first.

But before making record of it John, as at the supper in Bethany,

points to Judas. We are reminded of the traitor's purpose formed while

Mary anointed and wiped Jesus' feet. So awful was that purpose, so full

of hatred and deceit, that John now tells us it was the devil himself

who "put into the heart of Judas ... to betray Him." "Humanity had

fallen, but not so low."

John seems to have well understood his Master's thoughts and interpreted

His actions in giving the second object lesson. He noticed carefully,

and remembered long and distinctly, every act. Was there ever drawn a

more powerful picture in contrast than in these words,--"Jesus, knowing

that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He came

forth from God, and goeth unto God, riseth from supper, and layeth aside

His garments; and He took a towel, and girded Himself. Then He poureth

water into the basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe

them with the towel wherewith He was girded."

This was the service of a common slave. It is easy to imagine the silent

astonishment of the disciples. The purpose of Jesus could not be

mistaken. It was a reproof for their contention. The object lesson was

ended. John continued to closely watch His movements, as he took the

garments He had laid aside and resumed His seat at the table. The

very towel with which the Lord had girded Himself, found a lasting place

in John's memory, worthy of mention as the instrument of humble service.

What a sacred relic, if preserved, it would have become--more worthy of

a place in St. Peter's in Rome than the pretended handkerchief of

Veronica.

[Illustration: THE LAST SUPPER _Benjamin West_ Page 158]

Christ's treatment of one of the disciples at the feet-washing left a

deep impression on John's mind. With sadness and indefiniteness the Lord

said, "He that eateth My bread lifted up his heel against Me": one who

accepts My hospitality and partakes of the proofs of My friendship is My

enemy. For that one whoever it might be, known only to himself and to

Jesus, it was a most solemn call to even yet turn from his evil purpose.

But the faithless one betrayed no sign; nor did Jesus betray him even

with a glance which would have been a revelation to John's observant

eye.

It is John who tells us that as they sat at the table "Jesus ... was

troubled in spirit." The apostle closest to Him in position and sympathy

would be the first to detect that special trouble, and the greatness of

it, even before the cause of it was known. But that was not long. "Jesus

said, Verily, verily, I say unto you that one of you shall betray Me."

Such is John's record of Christ's declaration. It is in His Gospel alone

that we find the double "Verily" introducing Christ's words, thus

giving a deeper emphasis and solemnity than appears in the other

Evangelists. A comparison of this declaration of Christ as given by the

four, illustrates this fact. John immediately follows this statement of

the betrayal with another, peculiar to himself. Its shows his close

observation at the time, and the permanence of his impression. What he

noticed would furnish a grand subject for the most skilful artist,

beneath whose picture might be written, "The disciples looked one on

another, doubting of whom He spake." As John gazed upon them, raising

themselves on their divans, looking first one way, then another, from

one familiar face to another, exchanging glances of inquiry and doubt,

each distrustful of himself and his fellow, he beheld what angels might

have looked upon with even deeper interest. There has been no other

occasion, nor can there be, for such facial expressions--a blending of

surprise, consternation, fear and sorrow. Was John one of those who

"began to question among themselves which of them it was that should do

this thing"? Did he take his turn as "one by one" they "began to say,

... Is it I, Lord?" If so it must have been in the faintest whisper; and

so the blessed answer, "No." But we must believe that Jesus and John

understood each other too well for any such question and answer. The

definite answer was not yet given to any one by the Master, yet with an

awful warning, He repeated His prediction of the betrayal.

Peter was impatient to ask Jesus another question. At other times he was

bold to speak, but now he was awed into silence. Yet he felt that he

must know. The great secret must be revealed. There was one through whom

it might possibly be done. So while the disciples looked one on another,

Peter gazed on John with an earnest, inquiring look, feeling that the

beloved disciple might relieve the awful suspense. "Peter therefore

beckoneth to him, and saith unto him, Tell us who it is of whom He

speaketh." So "He, leaning back, as he was, on Jesus' breast, saith unto

Him, Lord, who is it? Jesus therefore answereth, He it is for whom I

shall dip the sop and give it him." Did John on one side of Jesus hear

the whispered question of Judas on the other, "Is it I, Rabbi?" He

watched for the sign which Jesus said He would give. The morsel was

given to Judas. That was more than a sign, more than kindness to an

unworthy guest; it was the last of thousands of loving acts to one whom

Jesus had chosen, taught and warned--yet was a traitor. Of that moment

John makes special note. Having told us that at the beginning of the

supper "the devil ... put into the heart of Judas ... to betray," he

says, "After the sop, Satan entered into him." As he saw Judas, with a

heart of stone and without a trembling hand, coolly take the morsel from

that hand of love, he realized that the evil one had indeed taken

possession of him whose heart he had stirred at the feast of Bethany.

It must have been a relief to John when he heard the Lord bid Judas

depart, though "no man at the table knew for what intent."

"He then having received the sop went out straightway,"--out from that

most consecrated room; out from the companionship of the Apostles in

which he had proved himself unfit to share; out from the most hallowed

associations of earth; out from the most inspiring influences with which

man was ever blessed; out from the teachings, warnings, invitations and

loving care of his only Saviour. "When Satan entered into him, he went

out from the presence of Christ, as Cain went out from the presence of

the Lord." As John spoke of the departure, no wonder he added, "It was

night." His words mean to us more than the darkness outside that room

illumined by the lamp which Peter and John had lighted. They are

suggestive of the darkness of the traitor's soul, contrasted with the

"Light of the World" in that room, to whose blessed beams he then closed

his eyes forever. Night--the darkest night--was the most fitting symbol

for the deeds to follow. Possessed by Satan, Judas went out to be

"guide to them that took Jesus." To them, two hours later, He who was

the Light of the World said, "This is your hour and the power of

darkness."

It was when "he was gone out" that Christ called the disciples by a new

name, and gave them a new commandment. In both of them John took a

special interest which he showed long after. That name was "Little

Children." The word which Christ used had a peculiar meaning. This is

the only time we know of His ever using it. It was an expression of the

tenderest affection for His family, so soon to be orphaned by His death.

When John wrote his Epistles, he often used the same word, whose special

meaning he had learned from his Lord, to show his own love for his

fellow-Christians.

The new commandment was this--"That ye love one another; as I have loved

you, that ye also love one another." The command itself was not new, for

it had been given through Moses, and repeated by Christ, "Thou shalt

love thy neighbor as thyself." But Christ gave the disciples a new

reason or motive for obeying it. They were to love one another because

of His love for them. As John grew older he became a beautiful example

of one who obeyed the command. In his old age he urged such obedience,

saying, "If God so loved us, we ought also to love one another."

Through the door of the Upper Room left ajar by three Evangelists, we

catch glimpses of the group around the table of the Last Supper. Through

it as opened wide by John we hear the voice of Jesus as He utters His

farewell words. He comforts His disciples and tells of heavenly

mansions. He gives His peace in their tribulations. He promises the Holy

Spirit as a Comforter. He closes His address, even in this hour of

sadness and apparent defeat, with these wonderful words, "Be of good

cheer; I have overcome the world."

And now as John still holds open the door, we hear the voice of prayer,

such as nowhere else has been offered. It is ended. There are moments of

silence, followed by a song of praise. Then John closes the door of the

Upper Room, which we believe was opened again as the earliest home of

the Christian Church. There we shall see him again with those who,

because of his experience with his Lord in that consecrated place, gave

him the name of "The Bosom Disciple."

[Illustration: IN GETHSEMANE _Gustave Doré_ Page 163]

_CHAPTER XXIV_

_With Jesus in Gethsemane_

"He went forth with His disciples over the brook Kidron, where was

a garden."--_John_ xviii. 1.

"Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and

saith unto His disciples, Sit ye here while I go yonder and

pray."--_Matt._ xxvi. 36.

"And He taketh with Him Peter and James and John, ... and He saith

unto them, ... abide ye here, and watch."--_Mark_ xiv. 33, 34.

"And He went forward a little, and fell on the ground, and prayed."

_v._ 35.

John was our leader to the Upper Room. And now he guides us from it,

saying, "Jesus ... went forth with His disciples." That phrase "went

forth" may suggest to us much more than mere departure. The banquet of

love was over. The Lord's cup of blessing and remembrance had been drunk

by His "little children," as He affectionately called them. He was now

to drink the cup the Father was giving His Son--a mysterious cup of

sorrow. It was probably at the midnight hour that Jesus "went forth" the

last time from Jerusalem, which He had crowned with His goodness, but

which had crowned Him with many crowns of sorrow.

Other Evangelists tell us that He went "to the Mount of Olives," "to a

place called Gethsemane." John shows us the way thither, and what kind

of a place it was. Jesus went "over the ravine of the Kidron," in the

valley of Jehoshaphat. At this season of the year it was not, as at

other times, a dry water-bed, but a swollen, rushing torrent, fitting

emblem of the waters of sorrow through which He was passing. Whether the

name Kidron refers to the dark color of its waters, or the gloom of the

ravine through which they flow, or the sombre green of its overshadowing

cedars, it will ever be a reminder of the darker gloom that overshadowed

John and His Master, as they crossed that stream together to meet the

powers of darkness in the hour which Jesus called their own.

The garden of Gethsemane was an enclosed piece of ground. We are not to

think of it as a garden of flowers, or of vegetables, but as having a

variety of flowering shrubs, and of fruit-trees, especially olive. It

might properly be called an orchard. On the spot now claimed to be the

garden, there are several very old gnarled olive-trees. Having stood

beneath them, I would be glad to believe that they had sheltered my

Lord. But I remember that when the prophecy concerning Jerusalem was

fulfilled, the most sacred trees of our world were destroyed.

[Illustration: THE VALLEY OF JEHOSHAPHAT _Old Engraving_ Page 164]

Who was the owner of that sacred garden? He must have known what

happened there "ofttimes." Perhaps, like the "goodman of the house" in

Jerusalem, he was a disciple of Jesus, and provided this quiet retreat

for the living Christ, in the same spirit with which Joseph of Arimathæa

provided a garden for Him when He was dead. To these two gardens John is

our only guide. From the one he fled with Peter in fear and sadness: to

the other he hastened with Peter in anxiety followed by gladness.

When at the foot of Hermon, Jesus left nine of His disciples to await

His return. Now one was no longer "numbered among" them, as Peter

afterward said of him "who was guide to them that took Jesus." At the

entrance to the garden Jesus paused and said to eight, "Sit ye here

while I go yonder and pray." So had Abraham nineteen hundred years

before, pointing to Mount Moriah, visible from Olivet in the moonlight,

said "unto his young men, Abide ye here ... and I and the lad will go

yonder and worship."

That very night Jesus was to ascend that very Mount on His way as a

sacrifice, without any angel to stay the sacrificial hand.

At the garden gate there was no formal farewell, but a solemn final

charge, "Pray that ye enter not into temptation." Jesus knew that the

hour had come in which should be fulfilled Zechariah's prophecy. Sadly

He had declared in the Upper Room, "All ye shall be offended because of

Me this night; for it is written, I will smite the Shepherd, and the

sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad."

He dreads to be entirely alone. He longs for companionship. He craves

sympathy. In whose heart is it the tenderest and deepest? There is no

guessing here. The names are already on our lips. Answer is found in the

home of Jairus and on Hermon. Those whom He had led into the one, and

"apart" onto the other, He would have alone with Him in the garden. So

"He taketh with Him Peter and James and John." These companions of His

glory shall also be of His sorrow.

As Jesus advanced into the garden, the three discovered a change in

Him--a contrast to the calmness of the Upper Room and the assurances of

victory with which He had left it. He "began to be sore amazed and

sorrowful and troubled," and "to be very heavy." We have seen John

apparently quicker than others to detect his Lord's thoughts and

emotions. We imagine him walking closest to His side, and watching as

closely every change of His countenance and every motion that revealed

the inward struggle. And so when Jesus broke the silence, he was

somewhat prepared to hear Him say to the three, "My soul is exceeding

sorrowful even unto death."

[Illustration: CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS _Old Engraving_ Page 176]

The moment had come when He must deny Himself even the little comfort

and strength of the immediate presence of the three. So saying, "Tarry

ye here and watch with Me," He turned away. They must not follow Him to

the spot of His greatest conflict. There He must be alone, beyond the

reach of human help, however strong or loving. Even that which He had

found in the few moments since leaving the garden entrance must end.

Their eyes followed Him where they might not follow in His steps. It was

not far. "He went forward a little." "He was parted from them about a

stone's cast"--probably forty or fifty yards. This separation implies

sorrow. They were near enough to watch His every movement as He "kneeled

down" and "fell on His face to the ground" They were near enough to hear

the passionate cry of love and agony, "O, My Father." This is the only

time we know of His using this personal pronoun in prayer to His Father.

He thus showed the intensity of His feeling, and longing for that

sympathy and help which the Father alone could give.

On Hermon the glories of the Transfiguration were almost hidden from the

three disciples by their closing eyes. And now weariness overcame them

in the garden. They too fell to the ground, but not in prayer. They

tarried indeed, but could no longer watch.

They had seen Moses and Elijah with their Lord on the Holy Mount, but

probably did not see the blessed watcher in the garden when "there

appeared unto Him an angel from heaven strengthening Him" in body and

soul. So had angels come and ministered unto the Lord of angels and men

in the temptation in the wilderness.

"Being in agony He prayed more earnestly" until mingled blood and sweat

fell upon the ground. The heavenly visitants on Mount Hermon in glory

had talked with Him of His decease now at hand. The cup of sorrow was

fuller now than then. He prayed the Father that if possible it might

pass from Him. Then the angel must have told Him that this could not be

if He would become the Saviour of men. He uttered the words whose

meaning we cannot fully know, "Not My will, but Thine, be done."

The angelic presence did not make Him unmindful of the three. "He rose

up from His prayer," and turned from the spot moistened by the drops of

His agony. With the traces of them upon His brow, "He came unto the

disciples." How much of pathos in the simple record, "He found them

sleeping." Without heavenly or earthly companionship, His loneliness is

complete.

"'Tis midnight; and from all around,

The Saviour wrestles 'lone with fears;

E'en that disciple whom He loved,

Heeds not His Master's griefs and tears."

The head that reclined so lovingly on the bosom of the Lord in the Upper

Room now wearily rests on the dewy grass of Gethsemane. The eyes that

looked so tenderly into His, and the ear that listened so anxiously for

His whisper, are closed.

As Jesus stood by the three recumbent forms held by deep sleep, and

gazed by the pale moonlight into their faces which showed a troubled

slumber, He knew they "were sleeping for sorrow." In silence He looked

upon them until His eye fastened--not on the beloved John--but on him

who an hour ago had boasted of faithfulness to His Lord. The last

utterance they had heard before being lost in slumber was that of

agonizing prayer to the Father. The first that awakened them was sad and

tender reproof--"Simon, sleepest _thou_? Couldest thou not watch one

hour?" In the Master's words and tones were mingled reproach and

sympathy. In tenderness He added, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the

flesh is weak." Because of the spirit He pardoned the flesh. The

question, "Why sleep ye?" was to the three, as well as the charge, "Rise

and pray, that ye enter not into temptation."

Let imagination fill out the outline drawn by the Evangelists:--"He

went away again the second time and prayed; He came and found them

asleep again; He left them and went away again and prayed the third

time; and He cometh a third time and saith unto them, 'Sleep on now and

take your rest.'" If we may suppose any period of rest, it was soon

broken by the cry, "Arise, let us be going; behold he that betrayeth Me

is at hand." They need "watch" no longer. Their Lord's threefold

struggle was over. He was victor in Gethsemane, even as John beheld Him

three years before, just after His threefold conflict in the wilderness.

As they rose from the ground the inner circle that had separated them,

not only from the other Apostles but from all other men, was erased. We

do not find them alone with their Lord again. They rose and joined the

eight at the garden gate.

Recalling Gethsemane we sing to Jesus,

"Thyself the path of prayer hast trod."

The most sacred path of prayer in all the world was in Gethsemane. It

was only "a stone's cast" in length. The Lord trod it six times in

passing between the place where He said to the three, "tarry ye here,"

and that where He "kneeled down and prayed." One angel knows the spot.

Would that he could reveal it unto us.

[Illustration: CHRIST BEFORE PILATE (Ecce Homo) _H. Hofmann_ Page 182]

When Jesus was praying and the three were sleeping, Judas reported

himself at the High-Priestly Palace, ready to be the guide of the band

to arrest his Master. There were the Temple-guard with their staves, and

soldiers with their swords, and members of the Sanhedrin, ready to aid

in carrying out the plot arranged with the betrayer. It was

midnight--fit hour for their deed of darkness. The full moon shone

brightly in the clear atmosphere; yet they bore torches and lamps upon

poles, to light up any dark ravine or shaded nook in which they imagined

Jesus might be hiding. If any cord of love had ever bound Judas to his

Master, it was broken. That very night he had fled from the Upper Room,

which became especially radiant with love after his departure. To that

room we believe he returned with his murdering band. But the closing

hymn had been sung, and the Passover lamps extinguished two or three

hours before. The consecrated place was not to be profaned with

murderous intent. Another place must be sought for the victim of hate

and destruction.

John in his old age recalled precious memories of it, because Jesus

ofttimes resorted thither with His disciples. But he had a remembrance

of another kind. It is when speaking of this midnight hour that he says,

"Judas also which betrayed Him knew the place." Thither he led his

band--to Gethsemane.

"Lo, he that betrayeth Me is at hand," said

Jesus to the three, as He saw the gleams of the torches of the coming

multitude. His captors were many, but His thought was especially on

one--His betrayer. Again John reads for us the mind of Jesus, as he did

when the "Lord and Master washed the disciples' feet." He would have us

understand the calmness of the fixed purpose of Jesus to meet without

shrinking the terrible trial before Him, and to do this voluntarily--not

because of any power of His approaching captors. "Knowing all things

that were coming upon Him," He "went forth" to meet them--especially him

who at that moment was uppermost in His thought. John now understood

that last, mysterious bidding of the Lord to Judas, with which He

dismissed him from the table--"That thou doest, do quickly." He now

"knew for what intent He spake this unto him." It was not to buy things

needed for the feast, nor to give to the poor. It was to betray Him.

What a scene was that--Jesus "going forth," the three following Him; and

Judas in advance, yet in sight of his band, coming to meet Him.

"Hail, Rabbi," was the traitor's salute. And then on this solemn

Passover night, in this consecrated place, just hallowed by angelic

presence, interrupting the Lord's devotions, rushing upon holiness and

infinite goodness, with pretended fellowship and reverence, profaning

and repeating--as if with gush of emotion--the symbol of affection,

Judas covered the face of Jesus with kisses.

How deep the sting on this "human face divine," already defaced by the

bloody sweat, and to be yet more by the mocking reed, and smiting hand

and piercing thorn. The vision of the prophet seven hundred years before

becomes a reality--"His visage was so marred more than any man." "But

nothing went so close to His heart as the profanation of this kiss."

According to John's account, Judas' kiss was an unnecessary signal.

Jesus Himself leaving the traitor, advanced toward the band, with a

question which must have startled the Apostles, as well as the traitor

and his company--"Whom seek ye?" The contemptuous reply, "Jesus of

Nazareth," did not disturb His calmness as He said, "I am He," and

repeated His question, "Whom seek ye?" Nor was that infinite calmness

disturbed by the deeper contempt in the repeated answer, "Jesus of

Nazareth." They had come with weapons of defence, but they were as

useless as the betrayal kiss, especially when some of them, awed by His

presence and words, "went backward and fell to the ground."

We have seen Jesus going forward from His company and meeting Judas

going forward from his. We must now think of Judas joining his band, and

the eleven disciples surrounding their Lord. John has preserved the

only request made of the captors by the Master. It was not for Himself,

but for His disciples;--"If therefore ye seek Me, let these go their

way."

Three Evangelists tell that one of the disciples struck a servant of the

high priest and cut off an ear. Luke the physician says it was the right

ear, and that Christ touched it and healed it. John gives the disciple's

name, which it was not prudent for the other Evangelists to do when

Peter, who struck the blow, was still living. He also preserves the name

of the servant, Malchus--the last one on whom he saw the Great Physician

perform a healing act, showing divine power and compassion. John records

the Lord's reproof to Peter, "Put up thy sword into the sheath; the cup

which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?" Can this firm

voice be the same which an hour ago, a stone's cast from these two

disciples, said beseechingly, "O My Father, if it be possible, let this

cup pass from Me." Yea, verily, for He had added to the prayer, "Not as

I will, but as Thou wilt."

Thus does John's record concerning Peter testify to the triumph of his

Lord. But he also notes the immediate effect of Peter's mistaken zeal.

The captain and officers "bound Him." That was a strange, humiliating

sight, especially in connection with the Lord's words to Peter while

returning the sword to its sheath, "Thinkest thou that I cannot beseech

My Father, and He shall even now send Me more than twelve legions of

angels?" Wonderful words! fitting to be the last of the Lord's

utterances to a disciple in Gethsemane. With burning and just

indignation at His being bound, Jesus turned to His captors, saying,

"Are ye come out as against a robber, to seize Me?" As they closed

around Him His disciples were terrified with the fear of a like fate.

"And they all left Him and fled." Prophecy was fulfilled; the Shepherd

was smitten; the sheep were scattered.

Without the voice of friend or foe, the garden of Olivet was silent. One

had left it who, outliving his companions, gives us hints of his lone

meditations. The beloved disciple cherished memories of joyous yet sad

Gethsemane. He it was who longest remembered, and who alone preserved

the prophecy in the Upper Room, so soon fulfilled--"Ye shall be

scattered every man to his own, and shall leave Me alone."

In George Herbert's words we hear the Master cry,

"All My disciples fly! fear put a bar

Betwixt My friends and Me; they leave the star

Which brought the Wise Men from the East from far.

Was ever grief like Mine!"

_CHAPTER XXV_

_John in the High Priest's Palace_

"And they that had taken Jesus led Him away to the house of

Caiaphas the high priest, where the scribes and the elders were

gathered together."--_Matt._ xxvi. 57.

"Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. That

disciple ... entered in with Jesus into the court of the high

priest; but Peter was standing at the door without. So the other

disciple ... went out ... and brought in Peter."--_John_ xviii. 15,

16.

"Everywhere we find these two Apostles, Peter and John, in great

harmony together."--_Chrysostom._

"Bow down before thy King, My soul!

Earth's kings, before Him bow ye down;

Before Him monarchs humbly roll,--

Height, might, and splendor, throne and crown.

He in the mystic Land divine

The sceptre wields with valiant hand.

In vain dark, evil powers combine,--

He, victor, rules the better Land."

--_Ingleman.--Trans. Hymns of Denmark._

"It is probable that St. John attended Christ through all the weary

stages of His double trial--before the ecclesiastical and the civil

authorities--and that, after a night thus spent, he accompanied the

procession in the forenoon to the place of execution, and witnessed

everything that followed."--_Stalker._

We know not what became of nine of the disciples fleeing from

Gethsemane; whether they first hid among the bushes and olive-trees,

and escaped into the country; or took refuge in the neighboring tombs;

or stole their way to some secret room where the goodman of the house

furnished them protection; or scattered in terror each in his lonely

way.

The captive Lord was dragged along the highway where Peter and John had

been for a single hour the Heralds of the King. Over the Kidron, up the

slope of Moriah, through the gate near the sacred Temple, along the

streets of the Holy City, He was led as a robber to the high-priestly

palace.