5.

Second Year of the Public Life of Jesus.

 

The second year of the public life of Christ opened, as the first, with his attendance at the Passover. He appeared again amidst the assembled population of the whole race of Israel, in the place where, by common consent, the real Messiah was to assume his office, and to claim the allegiance of the favoured chosen people of God. It is clear that a considerable change had taken place in the popular sentiment, on the whole, at least with the ruling party, unfavourable to Jesus of Nazareth. The inquisitive wonder, not unmingled with respect, which on the former occasion seemed to have watched his words and actions, had turned to an unquiet and jealous vigilance, and a manifest anxiety on the part of his opponents to catch some opportunity of weakening his influence over the people. The misapprehended speech concerning the demolition and restoration of the Temple probably rankled in the recollection of many; and rumours no doubt, and those most likely inaccurate and misrepresented, must have reached Jerusalem, of the mysterious language in which he had spoken of his relation to Jehovah, the Supreme Being. The mere fact that Galilee had been chosen, rather than Jerusalem or Judaea, for his assumption of whatever distinguished character he was about to support, would work, with no doubtful or disguised animosity, among the proud and jealous inhabitants of the metropolis. Nor was his conduct, however still cautious, without further inevitable collision with some of the most inveterate prejudices of his countrymen. The first year the only public demonstration of his superiority had been the expulsion of the buyers and sellers from the Temple, and his ambiguous and misinterpreted speech about that sacred edifice. His conversation with Nicodemus had probably not transpired, or at least not gained general publicity; for the same motives which would lead the cautious Pharisee to conceal his visit under the veil of night, would induce him to keep within his own bosom the important and startling truths, which perhaps he himself did not yet clearly comprehend, but which at all events were so opposite to the principles of his sect, and so humiliating to the pride of the ruling and learned oligarchy.

During his second visit, however, at the same solemn period of national assemblage, Jesus gave a new cause of astonishment to his followers, of offence to his adversaries, by an act which could not but excite the highest wonder and the strongest animadversion. This was no less than an assumption of authority to dispense with the observance of the Sabbath. Of all their institutes, which, after having infringed or neglected for centuries of cold and faithless service, the Jews, on the return from the Captivity, embraced with passionate and fanatical attachment, none had become so completely identified with the popular feeling, or had been guarded by such minute and multifarious provisions, as the Sabbath. In the early days of the Maccabean revolt against Antiochus, the insurgents, having been surprised on a Sabbath, submitted to be tamely butchered, rather than violate the sanctity of the day, even by defensive warfare. And though the manifest impossibility of recovering or maintaining their liberties against the inroads of hostile nations had led to a relaxation of the Law as far as self-defence, yet during the siege of Jerusalem by Pompey, the wondering Romans discovered, that although on the seventh day the garrison would repel an assault, yet they would do nothing to prevent or molest the enemy in carrying on his operations in the trenches. Tradition, “the hedge of the Law,” as it was called, had fenced this institution with more than usual care : it had noted with jealous rigour almost every act of bodily exertion within the capacity of man, arranged them under thirty-nine heads, which were each considered to comprehend a multitude of subordinate cases, and against each and every one of these had solemnly affixed the seal of Divine condemnation. A Sabbath day’s journey was a distance limited to 2,000 cubits, or rather less than a mile; and the carrying any burthen was especially denounced as among the most flagrant violations of the Law. This Sabbatic observance was the stronghold of Pharisaic rigour; and enslaved as the whole nation was in voluntary bondage to these minute regulations, in no point were they less inclined to struggle with the yoke, or wore it with greater willingness and pride.

There was a pool, situated most likely to the north of the Temple, near the Sheep-gate, the same probably through which the animals intended for sacrifice were usually brought into the city. The place was called Bethesda (the House of Mercy), and the pool was supposed to possess remarkable properties for healing diseases. At certain periods there was a strong commotion in the waters, which probably bubbled up from some chemical cause connected with their medicinal effects. Popular belief, or rather perhaps popular language, attributed this agitation of the surface to the descent of an angel ; for of course the regular descent of a celestial being, visible to the whole city, cannot for an instant be supposed. Around the pool were usually assembled a number of diseased persons, blind or paralytic, who awaited the right moment for plunging into the water, under the shelter of five porticoes, which had been built either by private charity, or at the public cost, for the general convenience. Among these lay one who had been notoriously afflicted for thirty-eight years by some disorder which deprived him of the use of his limbs. It was in vain that he had watched an opportunity of relief; for as the sick person who first plunged into the water, when it became agitated, seems to have exhausted its virtues, this helpless and friendless sufferer was constantly thrust aside, or supplanted by some more active rival for the salutary effects of the spring. Jesus saw and had compassion on the afflicted man, commanded him to rise, and, that he might show the perfect restoration of his strength, to take up the pallet on which he had lain, and to bear it away. The carrying any burthen, as has been said, was specifically named as one of the most heinous offences against the Law; and the strange sight of a man thus openly violating the statute in so public a place, could not but excite the utmost attention. The man was summoned, it would seem, before the appointed authorities, and questioned about his offence against public decency and the established law. His defence was plain and simple; he acted according to the command of the wonderful person who had restored his limbs with a word, but who that person was he had no knowledge; for, immediately after the miraculous cure, Jesus, in conformity with his usual practice of avoiding whatever might lead to popular tumult, had quietly withdrawn from the wondering crowd. Subsequently, however, meeting Jesus in the Temple, he recognised his benefactor, and it became generally known that Jesus was the author both of the cure and of the violation of the Sabbath Jesus in his turn was called to account for his conduct.

The transaction bears the appearance, if not of a formal arraignment before the high court of the Sanhedrin, at least of a solemn and regular judicial inquiry. Yet, as no verdict seems to have been given, notwithstanding the importance evidently attached to the affair, it may be supposed either that the full authority of the Sanhedrin was wanting, or that they dared not, on such insufficient evidence, condemn with severity one about whom the popular mind was at least divided. The defence of Jesus, though apparently not given at full length by the Evangelist, was of a nature to startle and perplex the tribunal: it was full of mysterious intimations, and couched in language about which it is difficult to decide how far it was familiar to the ears of the more learned. It appeared at once to strike at the literal interpretation of the Mosaic commandment, and at the same time to draw a parallel between the actions of Jesus and those of God. On the Sabbath the beneficent works of the Almighty Father are continued as on any other day; there is no period of rest to Him whose active power is continually employed in upholding, animating, maintaining in its uniform and uninterrupted course the universe which He has created. The free course of God’s blessing knows no pause, no suspension. It is clear that the healing waters of Bethesda occasionally showed their salutary virtues on the Sabbath, and might thus be an acknowledged instance of the unremitting benevolence of the Almighty. In the same manner the benevolence of Jesus disdained to be confined by any distinction of days; it was to flow forth as constant and unimpeded as the Divine bounty. The indignant court heard with astonishment this aggravation of the offence. Not only had Jesus assumed the power of dispensing with the Law, but, with what appeared to them profane and impious boldness, he had instituted a comparison between himself and the great Ineffable Deity. With one consent they determine to press with greater vehemence the capital charge. Therefore the Jews sought the more to kill him, because he had not only broken the Sabbath, but said that God was his father, making himself equal with God.

The second defence of Jesus was at once more full and explicit, and more alarming to the awestruck assembly. It amounted to an open assumption of the title and offices of the Messiah—the Messiah in the person of the commanding and fearless, yet still, as they supposed, humble Galilean, who stood before their tribunal. It commenced by expanding and confirming that parallel, which had already sunk so deep into their resentful minds. The Son was upon earth, as it were, a representative of the power and mercy of the invisible Father—of that great Being who had never been comprehensible to the senses of man. For what things soever he (the Father) doeth, those also doeth the Son likewise. The Saviour proceeded to declare his divine mission and his claim to divine honour, his investment with power, not only over diseases, but over death itself. From thence he passed to the acknowledged offices of the Messiah, the resurrection, the final judgement, the apportionment of everlasting life. All these recognised functions of the Messiah were assigned by the Father to the Son, and that Son appeared in his person. In confirmation of these as yet unheard-of pretensions, Jesus declared that his right to honour and reverence rested not on his own assertion alone. He appealed to the testimony which had been publicly borne to his character by John the Baptist. The prophetic authority of John had been, if not universally, at least generally recognised; it had so completely sunk into the popular belief, that, as appears in a subsequent incident, the multitude would have resented any suspicion thrown even by their acknowledged superiors on one thus established in their respect and veneration, and perhaps further endeared by the persecution which he was now suffering under the unpopular tetrarch of Galilee. He appealed to a more decisive testimony, the public miracles which he had wrought, concerning which the rulers seem scarcely yet to have determined on their course, whether to doubt, to deny, or to ascribe them to daemoniacal agency. Finally he appealed to the last unanswerable authority, the Sacred Writings, which they held in such devout reverence; and distinctly asserted that his coming had been prefigured by their great lawgiver, from the spirit at least, if not from the express letter of whose sacred laws they were departing, in rejecting his claims to the title and honours of the Messiah. Had ye believed Moses, ye would have believed me, for he wrote of me.

There is an air of conscious superiority in the whole of this address, which occasionally rises to the vehemence of reproof, to solemn expostulation, to authoritative admonition, of which it is difficult to estimate the impression upon a court accustomed to issue their judgements to a trembling and humiliated auditory. But of their subsequent proceedings we have no information,—whether the Sanhedrin hesitated or feared to proceed; whether they were divided in their opinions, or could not reckon upon the support of the people; whether they doubted their own competency to take so strong a measure without the concurrence or sanction of the Roman governor—at all events, no attempt was made to secure the person of Jesus. He appears, with his usual caution, to have retired towards the safer province of Galilee, where the Jewish senate possessed no authority, and where Herod, much less under the Pharisaic influence, would not think it necessary to support the injured dignity of the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem; nor, whatever his political apprehensions, would he entertain the same sensitive terrors of a reformer who confined his views to the religious improvement of mankind.

But from this time commences the declared hostility of the Pharisaic party against Jesus. Every opportunity is seized of detecting him in some further violation of the religious statutes. We now perpetually find the Pharisees watching his footsteps, and, especially on the Sabbath, laying hold of every pretext to inflame the popular mind against his neglect or open defiance of their observances. Nor was their jealous vigilance disappointed. Jesus calmly pursued on the Sabbath, as on every other day, his course of benevolence. A second and a third time, immediately after his public arraignment, that, which they considered the inexpiable offence, was renewed, and justified in terms which were still more repugnant to their inveterate prejudices.

The Passover was scarcely ended, and with his disciples he was probably travelling homewards, when the first of these incidents occurred. On the first Sabbath after the second day of unleavened bread, the disciples passing through a field of com, and being hungry, plucked some of the ears of com, and rubbing them in their hands, ate the grain. This, according to Jewish usage, was no violation of the laws of property, as, after the wave-offering had been made in the Temple, the harvest was considered to be ripe: and the humane regulation of the Lawgiver permitted the stranger, who was passing through a remote district, thus to satisfy his immediate wants. But it was the Sabbath, and the act directly offended against another of the multifarious provisions of Pharisaic tradition. The vindication of his followers by their Master took still higher ground. He not merely adduced the example of David, who in extreme want had not scrupled, in open violation of the Law, to take the shewbread, which was prohibited to all but the priestly order (he thus placed his humble disciples on a level with the great king, whose memory was cherished with the most devout reverence and pride), but he distinctly asserted his own power of dispensing with that which was considered the eternal, the irreversible commandment,—he declared himself Lord of the Sabbath.

Rumours of this dangerous innovation accompanied the Saviour into Galilee. Whether some of the more zealous Pharisees had followed him during his journey, or had accidentally returned at the same time from the Passover, or whether, by means of that intimate and rapid correspondence likely to be maintained among the members of an ambitious and spreading sect, they had already communicated their apprehensions of danger and their animosity against Jesus, they already seem to have arrayed against him in all parts the vigilance and enmity of their brethren. It was in the public synagogue in some town which he entered on his return to Galilee, in the face of the whole assembly, that a man with a withered hand recovered the strength of his limb at the command of Jesus on the Sabbath day. And the multitude, instead of being inflamed by the zeal of the Pharisees, appear at least to have been unmoved by their angry remonstrances. They heard without disapprobation, if they did not openly testify their admiration, both of the power and goodness of Jesus; and listened to the simple argument with which he silenced his adversaries, by appealing to their own practice in extricating their own property, or delivering their own cattle from jeopardy, on the sacred day.

The discomfited Pharisees endeavoured to enlist in their party the followers, perhaps the magistracy of Herod, and to organise a formidable opposition to the growing influence of Jesus. So successful was their hostility, that Jesus seems to have thought it prudent to withdraw for a short time from the collision. He passed towards the lake, over which he could at any time cross into the district which was beyond the authority both of Herod and of the Jewish Sanhedrin. A bark attended upon him, which would transport him to any quarter he might desire, and on board of which he seems to have avoided the multitudes, which constantly thronged around, or seated on the deck addressed, with greater convenience, the crowding hearers who lined the shores. Yet concealment, or perhaps less frequent publicity, seems now to have been his object; for when some of those insane persons, the daemoniacs as they were called, openly address him by the title of Son of God, Jesus enjoins their silence, as though he were yet unwilling openly to assume this title, which was fully equivalent to that of the Messiah; and which, no doubt, was already ascribed to him by the bolder and less prudent of his followers. The same injunctions of secrecy were addressed to others, who at this time were relieved or cured by the beneficent power; so that one Evangelist considers that the cautious and unresisting demeanour of Jesus, thus avoiding all unnecessary offence or irritation, exemplified that characteristic of the Messiah, so beautifully described by Isaiah, “He shall neither strive nor cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets; a bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory.”

This persecution, however, continues but a short time, and Jesus appears again openly in Capernaum and its neighbourhood. After a night passed in solitary retirement, he takes the decided step of organising his followers, selecting and solemnly inaugurating a certain number of his more immediate disciples, who were to receive an authoritative commission to disseminate trines. Hitherto he had stood, as it were, alone; though doubtless some of his followers had attended upon him with greater zeal and assiduity than others, yet he could scarcely be considered as the head of a regular and disciplined community. The twelve Apostles, whether or not selected with that view, could not but call to mind the number of the tribes of Israel. Of the earlier lives of these humble men little can be gathered beyond the usual avocations of some among them; and even tradition, for once, preserves a modest and almost total silence. They were of the lower, though perhaps not quite the lowest, class of Galilean peasants. What previous education they had received we can scarcely conjecture; though almost all the Jews appear to have received some kind of instruction in the history, the religion, and the traditions of the nation. First among the twelve appears Simon, to whom Jesus, in allusion to the firmness of character which he was hereafter to exhibit, gave a name, or rather, perhaps, interpreted a name by which he was already known, Cephas, the Rock; and declared that his new religious community was to rest on a foundation as solid as that name seemed to signify. Andrew his brother is usually associated with Peter. James and John received the remarkable name of Boanerges, the Sons of Thunder, of which it is not easy to trace the exact force; for those who bore it do not appear remarkable among their brethren, either for energy or vehemence. The peculiar gentleness of the latter, both in character and in the style of his writings, would lead us to doubt the correctness of the interpretation generally assigned to the appellation. The two former were natives of one town, Bethsaida, the latter, either of Bethsaida or Capernaum, and all obtained their livelihood as fishermen on the Lake of Gennesaret, the waters of which were extraordinarily prolific in fish of many kinds. Matthew or Levi, as it has been said, was a publican. Philip was likewise of Bethsaida. Bartholomew, the son of Tolmai or Ptolemy, is generally considered to have been the same with Nathanael, and was distinguished, before his knowledge of Jesus, by the blamelessness of his character, and, from the respect in which he was held, may be supposed to have been of higher reputation as of a better instructed class. Thomas or Didymus (for the Syriac and Greek words have the same signification, a twin) is remarkable in the subsequent history for his coolness and reflecting temper of mind. Lebbeus, or Thaddeus, or Judas the brother of James, are doubtless different names of the same person. Judas in Syriac is Thaddai. Whether Lebbaios is derived from the town of Lebba, on the sea coast of Galilee, or from a word denoting the heart, and therefore almost synonymous with Thaddai, which is interpreted the breast, is extremely doubtful. James was the son of Cleophas or Alpheus; concerning him and his relationship to Jesus there has been much dispute. His father Cleophas was married to another Mary, sister of Mary the mother of Jesus, to whom he would therefore be cousin-german. But whether he is the same with the James who in other places is named the brother of the Lord (the term of brother by Jewish usage, according to one opinion, comprehending these closer ties of kindred); and whether either of these two, or which, was the James who presided over the Christian community in Jerusalem, and whose cruel death is described by Josephus, must remain among those questions on which we can scarcely expect further information, and cannot therefore decide with certainty. Simon the Canaanite was so called, not, as has been supposed, from the town of Cana, still less from his Canaanitish descent, but from a Hebrew word meaning a zealot, to which fanatical and dangerous body this apostle had probably belonged, before he joined the more peaceful disciples of Jesus.  The last was Judas Iscariot, perhaps so named from a small village named Iscara, or more probably Carioth, situated in the tribe of Judah.

It was after the regular inauguration of the twelve in their apostolic office, that, according to St. Luke, the Sermon on the Mount was delivered, or some second outline of Christian morals repeated in nearly similar terms. Immediately after, as Jesus returned to Capernaum, a cure was wrought, both from its circumstances and its probable influence on the situation of Jesus, highly worthy of remark. It was in favour of a centurion, a military officer of Galilean descent, probably in the service of Herod, and a proselyte to Judaism, for he could scarcely have built a synagogue for Jewish worship, unless a convert to the religion. This man was held in such high estimation that the Jewish elders of the city, likewise it might seem not unfavourably disposed towards Jesus, interceded in his behalf. The man himself appears to have held the new teacher in such profound reverence, that in his humility he did not think his house worthy of so illustrious a guest, and expressed his confidence that a word from him would be as effective, even uttered at a distance, as the orders that he was accustomed to issue to his soldiery. Jesus not only complied with his request by restoring his servant to health, but took the opportunity of declaring that many Gentiles, from the most remote quarters, would be admitted within the pale of the new religion, to the exclusion of many who had no title but their descent from Abraham. Still there was nothing, so far as in the earlier part of this declaration, directly contrary to the established opinions; for at least the more liberal Jews were not unwilling to entertain the splendid ambition of becoming the religious instructors of the world, provided the world did homage to the excellence and divine institution of the Law; and at all times the Gentiles, by becoming Jews, either as proselytes of the gate, if not proselytes by circumcision, might share in most, if not in all, the privileges of the chosen people. This incident was likewise of importance as still further strengthening the interest of Jesus with the ruling authorities and with another powerful officer in the town of Capernaum. A more extraordinary transaction followed. As yet Jesus had claimed authority over the most distressing and obstinate maladies; he now appeared invested with power over death itself. As he entered the town of Nain, between twenty and thirty miles from Capernaum, he met a funeral procession, accompanied with circumstances of extreme distress. It was a youth, the only son of a widow, who was borne out to burial; so great was the calamity that it had excited the general interest of the inhabitants. Jesus raises the youth from his bier, and restores him to the destitute mother.

The fame of this unprecedented miracle was propagated with the utmost rapidity through the country; and still vague, yet deepening rumours that a prophet had appeared; that the great event which held the whole nation in suspense was on the instant of fulfilment, spread throughout the whole province. It even reached the remote fortress of Machaerus, in which John was still closely guarded, though it seems the free access of his followers was not prohibited. John commissioned two of his disciples to inquire into the truth of these wonderful reports, and to demand of Jesus himself, whether he was the expected Messiah. But what was the design of John in this message to Jesus? The question is not without difficulty. Was it for the satisfaction of his own doubts, or those of his followers? Was it that, in apprehension of his approaching death, he would consign his disciples to the care of a still greater instructor? Was it that he might attach them before his death to Jesus, and familiarise them with conduct, in some respects, so opposite to his own Essenian, if not Pharisaic, habits? He might foresee the advantage that would be taken by the more ascetic to alienate his followers from Jesus, as a teacher who fell far below the austerity of their own; and who, accessible to all, held in no respect those minute observances which the usage of the stricter Jews, and the example of their master, had arrayed in indispensable sanctity. Or was it that John himself, having languished for nearly a year in his remote prison, began to be impatient for the commencement of that splendid epoch, of which the whole nation, even the Apostles of Jesus, both before and after the resurrection, had by no means abandoned their glorious, worldly, and Jewish notions? Was John, like the rest of the people, not yet exalted above those hopes which were inseparable from the national mind ? If he is the King, why does he hesitate to assume his kingdom? If the Deliverer, why so tardy to commence the deliverance? “If thou art indeed the Messiah (such may appear to have been the purport of the Baptist’s message), proclaim thyself at once; assume thy state; array thyself in majesty; discomfit the enemies of holiness and of God! My prison doors will at once burst open; my trembling persecutors will cease from their oppressions. Herod himself will yield up his usurped authority; and even the power of Rome will cease to afflict the redeemed people of the Almighty!” What, on the other hand, is the answer of Jesus? It harmonises in a remarkable manner with this latter view. It declares at once, and to the disappointment of these temporal hopes, the purely moral and religious nature of the dominion to be established by the Messiah. He was found displaying manifest signs of more than human power, and to these peaceful signs he appeals as the conclusive evidence of the commencement of the Messiah’s kingdom, the relief of diseases, the assuagement of sorrows, the restoration of their lost or decayed senses to the deaf or blind, the equal admission of the lowest orders to the same religious privileges with those more especially favoured by God. The remarkable words are added, “Blessed is he that shall not be offended in me he that shall not consider irreconcileable with the splendid promises of the Messiah’s kingdom, my lowly condition, my calm and unassuming course of mercy and love to mankind, my total disregard of worldly honours, my refusal to place myself at the head of the people as a temporal ruler. Violent men, more especially during the disturbed and excited period since the appearance of John the Baptist, would urge on a kingdom of violence. How truly the character of the times is thus described, is apparent from the single fact, that shortly afterwards the people would have seized Jesus himself and forced him to assume the royal title, if he had not withdrawn himself from his dangerous adherents. This last expression, however, occurs in the subsequent discourse of Jesus, after his disciples had departed, when in those striking images he spoke of the former concourse of the people to the Baptist, and justified it by the assertion of his prophetic character. It was no idle object which led them into the wilderness, to see, as it were, “a reed shaken by the wind”; nor to behold any rich or luxurious object—for such they would have gone to the courts of their sovereigns. Still he declares the meanest of his own, disciples to have attained some moral superiority, some knowledge, probably, of the real nature of the new religion, and of the character and designs of the Messiah, which had never been possessed by John. With his usual rapidity of transition, Jesus passes at once to his moral instruction, and vividly shows, that whether severe or gentle, whether more ascetic or more popular, the teachers of a holier faith had been equally unacceptable. The general multitude of the Jews had rejected both the austerer Baptist, and himself though of so much more benign and engaging demeanour. The whole discourse ends with the significant words, “ My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Nothing, indeed, could offer a more striking contrast to the secluded and eremitical life of John, than the easy and accessible manner with which Jesus mingled among all classes, even his bitterest opponents, the Pharisees. He accepts the invitation of one of these, and enters into his house to partake of refreshment. Here a woman of dissolute life found her way into the chamber where the feast was held; she sat at his feet, anointing him, according to Eastern usage, with a costly unguent, which was contained in a box of alabaster; she wept bitterly, and with her long locks wiped away the falling tears. The Pharisees, who shrunk not only from the contact, but even from the approach, of all whom they considered physically or morally unclean, could only attribute the conduct of Jesus to his ignorance of her real character. The reply of Jesus intimates that his religion was intended to reform and purify the worst, and that some of his most sincere and ardent believers might proceed from those very outcasts of society from whom Pharisaic rigour shrunk with abhorrence.

After this Jesus appears to have made another circuit through the towns and villages of Galilee. On his return to Capernaum, instigated, perhaps, by his adversaries, some of his relatives appear to have believed, or pretended to believe, that he was out of his senses; and, therefore, attempted to secure his person. This scheme failing, the Pharisaic party, who had been deputed, it would seem, from Jerusalem to watch his conduct, endeavour to avail themselves of that great principle of Jewish superstition, the belief in the power of evil spirits, to invalidate his growing authority. On the occasion of the cure of one of those lunatics, usually called daemoniacs, who was both dumb and blind, they accused him of unlawful dealings with the spirits of evil. It was by a magic influence obtained by a secret contract with Beelzebub, the chief of the powers of darkness, or by secretly invoking his all-powerful name, that he reduced the subordinate daemons to obedience. The answer of Jesus struck them with confusion. Evil spirits, according to their own creed, took delight in the miseries and crimes of men; his acts were those of the purest benevolence: how gross the inconsistency to suppose that malignant spirits would thus lend themselves to the cause of human happiness and virtue! Another more personal argument still farther con­founded his adversaries. The Pharisees were professed exorcists if, then, exorcism, or the ejection of these evil spirits, necessarily implied unlawful dealings with the world of darkness, they were as open to the charge as he whom they accused. They had, therefore, the alternative of renouncing their own pretensions, or of admitting that those of Jesus were to be judged on other principles. It was, then, blasphemy against the Spirit of God to ascribe acts which bore the manifest impress of the divine goodness in their essentially beneficent character, to any other source but the Father of Mercies; it was an offence which argued such total obtuseness of moral perception, such utter incapacity of feeling or comprehending the beauty either of the conduct or the doctrines of Jesus, as to leave no hope that they would ever be reclaimed from their rancorous hostility to his religion, or be qualified for admission into the pale and to the benefits of the new faith.

The discomfited Pharisees now demand a more public and undeniable sign of his Messiahship, which alone could justify the lofty tone assumed by Jesus. A second time Jesus obscurely alludes to the one great future sign of the new faith —his resurrection; and, refusing further to gratify their curiosity, he reverts, in language of more than usual energy, to the incapacity of the age and nation to discern the real and intrinsic superiority of his religion.

The followers of Jesus had now been organised into a regular sect or party. Another incident distinctly showed that he no longer stood alone; even the social duties, which up to this time he had, no doubt, dis­charged with the utmost affection, were to give place to the sublimer objects of his mission. While he sat encircled by the multitude of his disciples, tidings were brought that his mother and his brethren desired to approach him. But Jesus refused to break off his occupation; he declared himself connected by a closer tie even than that of blood, with the great spiritual family of which he was to be the parent, and with which he was to stand in the most intimate relation. He was the chief of a fraternity not connected by common descent or consanguinity, but by a purely moral and religious bond; not by any national or local union, but bound together by the one strong but indi­visible link of their common faith. On the increase, the future prospects, the final destiny of this community, his discourses now dwell, with frequent if obscure allu­sions. His language more constantly assumes the form of parable. Nor was this merely in compliance with the genius of an Eastern people, in order to convey his instruction in a form more attractive, and therefore both more immediately and more permanently impressive; or by awakening the imagination, to stamp his doctrines more deeply on the memory, and to incorporate them with the feelings. These short and lively apologues were admirably adapted to suggest the first rudiments of truths which it was not expedient openly to announce. Though some of the parables have a purely moral purport, the greater part delivered at this period bear a more or less covert relation to the character and growth of the new religion; a subject which, avowed without disguise, would have revolted the popular mind, and clashed too directly with the inveterate nationality. Yet these splendid, though obscure, anticipations singularly contrast with occasional allusions to his own personal destitution : “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay his head.” For with the growth and organisation of his followers he seems fully aware that his dangers increase; he now frequently changes his place, passes from one side of the lake to the other, and even endeavours to throw a temporary concealment over some of his most extraordinary miracles. During an expedition across the lake, he is in danger from one of those sudden and violent tempests which often disturb inland seas, particularly in mountainous districts. He rebukes the storm, and it ceases. On the other side of the lake, in the district of Gadara, occurs the remarkable scene of the daemoniacs among the tombs, and the herd of swine; the only act in the whole life of Jesus in the least repugnant to the uniform gentleness of his disposition, which would shrink from the unnecessary destruction even of the meanest and most loathsome animals On his return from this expedition to Capernaum took place the healing of the woman with the issue of blood, and the raising of Jairus’s daughter. Concerning the latter, as like­wise concerning the relief of two blind men, he gives the strongest injunctions of secrecy, which, nevertheless, the active zeal of his partisans seems by no means to have regarded.

But a more decisive step was now taken than the organisation of the new religious community. The twelve Apostles were sent out to disseminate the doctrines of Jesus throughout the whole of Galilee. They were invested with the power of healing diseases; with cautious deference to Jewish feeling, they were forbidden to proceed beyond the borders of the Holy Land, either among the Gentiles or the heretical Samaritans; they were to depend on the hospitality of those whom they might address for their subsistence; and he distinctly anticipates the enmity which they would perpetually encounter, and the dissension which would be caused, even in the bosom of families, by the appearance of men thus acting on a commission unprecedented and unrecognised by the religious authorities of the nation, yet whose doctrines were of such intrinsic beauty, and so full of exciting promise.

It was most likely this open proclamation, as it were, of the rise of a new and organised community, and the greater publicity which this simultaneous appearance of two of its delegates in the different towns of Galilee could not but give to the growing influence of Jesus, that first attracted the notice of the government. Up to this period Jesus, as a remarkable man, must have been well known by general report; by this measure he stood in a very different character, as the chief of a numerous fraternity. There were other reasons, at this critical period, to excite the apprehensions and jealousy of Herod. During the short interval between the visit of John’s disciples to Jesus and the present time, the Tetrarch had at length, at the instigation of his wife, perpetrated the murder of John of the Baptist. Whether his reluctance to shed unnecessary blood, or his prudence, had as yet shrunk from this crime, the condemnation of her marriage could not but rankle in the heart of the wife. The desire of revenge would be strengthened by a feeling of insecurity, and an apprehension of the precariousness of an union, declared, on such revered authority, null and void. As long as this stem and respected censor lived, her influence over her husband, the bond of marriage itself, might, in an hour of passion or remorse, be dissolved. The common crime would cement still closer, perhaps for ever, their common interests. The artifices of Herodias, who did not scruple to make use of the .beauty and grace of her daughter to compass her end, had extorted from the reluctant king, in the hour of festive carelessness—the celebration of Herod’s birthday —the royal promise, which, whether for good or for evil, was equally irrevocable. The head of John the Baptist was the reward for the dancing of the daughter of Herodias. Whether the mind of Herod, like that of his father, was disordered by his crime, and the disgrace and discomfiture of his arms contributed to his moody terrors; or whether some popular rumour of the reappearance of John, and that Jesus was the murdered prophet restored to life, had obtained currency; indications of hostility from the government seem to have put Jesus upon his guard. For no sooner had he been rejoined by the Apostles, than he withdrew into the desert country about Bethsaida, with the prudence which he now thought fit to assume, avoiding any sudden collision with the desperation or the capricious violence of the Tetrarch.

But he now filled too important a place in the public mind to remain concealed so near his customary residence, and the scene of his extraordinary actions. The multitude thronged forth to trace his footsteps, so that five thousand persons had preoccupied the place of his retreat; and so completely were they possessed by profound religious enthusiasm, as entirely to have forgotten the difficulty of obtaining provisions in that desolate region. The manner in which their wants were preternaturally supplied, and the whole assemblage fed by five loaves and two small fishes, wound up at once the rising enthusiasm to the highest pitch. It could not but call to the mind of the multitude the memorable event in their annals, the feeding the whole nation in the desert by the multiplication of the manna. Jesus then would no longer confine himself to those private and more unimposing acts of beneficence, of which the actual advantage was limited to a single object, and the ocular evidence of the fact to but few witnesses. Here was a sign performed in the presence of many thousands, who had actually participated in the miraculous food. This then, they supposed, could not but be the long-desired commencement of his more public, more national, career. Behold a second Moses! behold a Leader of the people, under whom they could never be afflicted with want I behold at length the Prophet, under whose government the people were to enjoy, among the other blessings of the Messiah’s reign, unexampled, uninterrupted plenty.

Their acclamations clearly betrayed their intentions; they would brook no longer delay; they would force him to assume the royal title; they would proclaim him, whether consenting or not, the King of Israel. Jesus withdrew from the midst of the dangerous tumult, and till the next day they sought him in vain. On their return to Capernaum, they found that He had crossed the lake, and entered the city the evening before. Their suspense, no doubt, had not been allayed by his mysterious disappearance on the other side of the lake. The circumstances under which He had passed over if communicated by the Apostles to the wondering multitude (and unless positively prohibited by their Master, they could not have kept silence on so wonderful an occurrence), would inflame still farther the intense popular agitation. While the Apostles were passing the lake in their boat, Jesus had appeared by their side, walking upon the waters.

 When therefore Jesus entered the synagogue of Capernaum, no doubt the crisis was immediately expected: at length He will avow himself; the declaration of his dignity must now be made; and where with such propriety as in the place of the public worship, in the midst of the devout and adoring people. The calm, the purely religious language of Jesus was a death-blow to these high-strung hopes. The object of his mission, he declared in explicit terms, was not to confer temporal benefits; they were not to follow him with the hope that they would obtain without labour the fruits of the earth, or be secured against thirst and hunger—these were mere casual and incidental blessings. The real design of the new religion was the elevation of the moral and spiritual condition of man, described under the strong but not unusual figure of nourishment administered to the soul. During the whole of his address, or rather his conversation with the different parties, the popular opinion was in a state of fluctuation; or, as is probable, there were two distinct parties,—that of the populace, at first more favourable to Jesus; and that of the Jewish leaders, who were altogether hostile. The former appear more humbly to have inquired what was demanded by the new Teacher in order to please God: of them Jesus required faith in the Messiah. The latter first demanded a new sign, but broke out into murmurs of disapprobation when “the carpenter’s son” began in his mysterious language to speak of his descent, his com­mission, from his Father, his reascension to his former intimate communion with the Deity; still more when He seemed to confine the hope of everlasting life to those only who were fitted to receive it; to those whose souls would receive the inward nutriment of his doctrines. No word in the whole address fell in with their excited, their passionate hopes: however dark, however ambiguous his allusions, they could not warp or mis­interpret them into the confirmation of their splendid views. Not only did they appear to discountenance the immediate, they gave no warrant to the remote, accomplishment of their visions of the Messiah’s earthly power and glory. At all events the disappointment was universal; his own adherents, baffled and sinking at once from their exalted hopes, cast off their unambitious, their inexplicable Leader; and so complete appears to have been the desertion, that Jesus demanded of the Twelve, whether they too would abandon his cause, and leave him to his fate. In the name of the Apostles Peter replied, that they had still full confidence in his doctrines, as teaching the way to eternal life; they still believed him to be the promised Messiah, the Son of God. Jesus received this protestation of fidelity with apparent approbation, but intimated that the time would come when one even of the tried and chosen twelve would prove a traitor.

 

6.

Third Year of the public Life of Jesus.