CHAPTER XIX

Elsewhere Jesus's fame had become so great that all men came to Him.

The poor crowded to Him in order to eat at His table where the word had become flesh. The rich invited Him to their houses, but He mostly declined those invitations, accepting, however, one here and there.

He Himself went to those who humbly remained in the background and yet desired to go to Him. A man lived in the district whose greatest desire was to see the Prophet. When he heard that Jesus was coming his way, he began to tremble and to think what he should do. "I should like to meet Him face to face, and yet dare not venture to go to Him.

For I have a bad reputation as a publican, and am not in any way worthy. Then He is always accompanied by so many people, and I am short and cannot see over their heads." When Jesus approached, the man climbed a bare sycamore-tree and peeped between the branches. Jesus saw him, and called out; "Zacchaeus, come down from the tree! I will come and visit you to-day."

The publican jumped down from the tree and went over to Him, and said humbly: "Lord, I am not worthy that you should go to my house. Only say one word to me, and I shall be content."

The people wondered that the Prophet should so honour this person of somewhat doubtful character. Zacchaeus was almost beside himself to think that the Master should have recognised and spoken to him. He set before his guest everything that his house afforded. Jesus said: "These things are good. But I want the most precious thing you possess."

"What is that, sir?" asked Zacchaeus in terror, for he thought he had given of his best. "Everything I possess is yours."

Then Jesus grasped his hand, looked at him lovingly, and said: "Zacchaeus, give me your heart!"

The man became His follower.

One day He was dining with a man who was very learned and a strict censor of morals. Several of His disciples were among the guests, and the talk, partly intellectual and partly guided by feeling, turned on the Scriptures. At first Jesus took no part; He was thinking how much pleasanter it would be to hear simple talk at His mother's fireside at home than to dispute with these arrogant scholars about the empty letter. But He was soon drawn into the conversation. Someone mentioned the commandment which enjoins a man to love his neighbour, and, as often happens, the simplest things became confused and incomprehensible in the varied opinions of the worldly-wise. One of the guests said: "It is remarkable how we do not reflect on the most important things because they are so clear; and yet if we do reflect on them by any chance, we don't understand them. So that I really do not know who it is I should love as myself."

"Your neighbour!" the disciple Matthew, who was sitting by him at table, informed him.

"That is all right, my friend, if only I knew who was my neighbour! I run up against all sorts of people in the day, and if one of them trips me up, he is my neighbour for the time being. At this moment I have two neighbours, you and Zachariah. Which of the two am I to love as myself? It is only stated that you shall love one. And if it's you or Zachariah, why should I love either of you more than the Master who sits at the other end of the table and is not my neighbour!"

"Man! that is an impertinent speech," said the disciple Bartholomew reprovingly.

"Well then, put me right!" retorted the other.

The disciple began, and tried to explain who the neighbour was, but he did not get very far, his thoughts were confused. Meanwhile the question had reached the Master. Who is, in the correct sense of the term, one's neighbour?

Jesus answered, by telling a story: "There was once a man who went from Jerusalem to Jericho. It was a lonely road, and he was attacked by highwaymen, who plundered him, beat him, and left him for dead. After a while a high priest came by that way, saw him lying there, and noticing that he was a stranger, pa.s.sed quickly on. A little later an a.s.sistant priest came by, saw him lying there, and thought: He's either severely wounded or dead, but I'm not going to put myself out for a stranger; and he pa.s.sed on. At last there came one of the despised Samaritans. He saw the helpless creature, stopped, and had pity on him. He revived him with wine, put healing salve on his wounds, lifted him up, and carried him to the nearest inn. He gave the host money to take care of the sufferer until he recovered. Now, what do you say?

The priests regarded him as a stranger, but the Samaritan saw in him his neighbour."

Then they explained it to themselves: Your neighbour is one whom you can help and who is waiting for your help.

The disciple Thomas now joined in the conversation, and doubted if you could expect a great prince to dismount from his horse and lift a poor beggar out of the gutter.

Jesus asked: "If you rode by as a great prince and found Me lying wretchedly in the gutter, would you leave me lying there?"

"Master!" shouted Thomas in horror.

"Do you see, Thomas? What you would do to the poorest, you would do to Me."

One of the others asked: "Are we only to be kind to the poor, and not to the rich and n.o.ble?"

And Jesus said: "If you are a beggar in the street, and a prince comes riding past, there's nothing you can do for him. But if his horse stumbles and he falls, then catch him so that his head may not strike against a stone. At that moment he becomes your neighbour."

Then some whispered: "It often seems as if He desired us to love all men. But that is too difficult."

"It's very easy, brother," said Bartholomew. "To love the millions of men whom you never see, who do not do you any harm, that costs nothing.

Hypocrites love in that way. Yet while they claim to love the whole human race, they are hard on their neighbour."

"It is easy to love from afar," said Jesus, "and it is easy to love good-tempered and amiable men. But how is it when your brother has wronged you, and is always trying to do you harm? You must forgive him, not seven times, but seventy times seven. Go to him in kindness, show him his error. If he listens to you, then you have won him. If he does not heed you, repeat your warning. If still he heeds you not, seek a friendly intermediary. If he will not heed him, then let the community decide. And only when you see your brother saved and contented will you be glad again."

While they were talking thus, a young woman pushed her way into the room. She was one of those who followed Him everywhere, and waited impatiently at the door while the Master visited a house. Bending low, almost unnoticed, she hurried through the crowd, stooped down before Jesus, and began to rub His feet with ointment from a casket. He calmly permitted it; but His host thought to himself: No, He is no prophet, or He would know who it is that is anointing His feet. Isn't she the sinner of Magdala?

Jesus guessed his thoughts, and said: "My friend, I will tell you something. Here is a man who has two debtors. One owes him fifty pence, and the other five hundred. But as they cannot pay he cancels both the debts. Now say, which of them owes him most grat.i.tude?"

"Naturally him to whom the most was remitted," answered the host.

And Jesus: "You are right. Much has been remitted to this woman. See, you invited Me to your house, your servants have filled the room with the scent of roses, although fresh air comes in through the window. My ear has been charmed with the strains of sweet bells, and stringed instruments, although the clear song of birds can be heard from without. You have given Me wine in costly crystal goblets, although I am accustomed to drink out of earthen vessels. But that My feet might feel sore after the long wandering across the desert only this woman remembered. She has much love, therefore much will be forgiven her."

One day when the Master had gone down to Capernaum he noticed that the disciples who were walking in front of Him were engaged in quiet but animated talk. They were discussing which of them was most pleasing to G.o.d. Each subtly brought forward his meritorious services to the Master, his sacrifices, his renunciations and sufferings, his obedience to the teaching. Jesus quickly stepped nearer to them, and said: "Why do you indulge in such foolish talk? While you are boasting of your virtues, you prove that you lack the greatest. Are you the righteous that you dare to talk so loudly?"

Whereupon one of them answered timidly: "No, sir, we are not the righteous. But you yourself said that there was more rejoicing in heaven over penitents than over righteous men."

"There is rejoicing over penitents when they are humble. But do you know over whom there is greater rejoicing in heaven?"

By this time a crowd had formed round Him. Women had come up leading little children by the hand and carrying smaller ones in their arms in order to show them the marvellous man. Some of the boys got through between the people's legs to the front in order to see Him and kiss the hem of His garment. The people tried to keep them back so that they should not trouble the Master, but He stood under the fig-tree and exclaimed in a loud voice. "Suffer the little ones to come unto Me!"

Then round-faced, curly-headed, bright-eyed children ran forward, their skirts flying, and crowded about Him, some merry, others shy and embarra.s.sed. He sat down on the gra.s.s, drew the children to His side, and took the smallest in His lap. They looked up in His kind face with wide-opened eyes. He played with them, and they smiled tenderly or laughed merrily. And they played with His curls, and flung their arms round His neck. They were so trustful and happy, these little creatures hovering so brightly round the Prophet, that the crowd stood in silent joy. But Jesus was so filled with blessed gladness that He exclaimed loudly: "This is the Kingdom of Heaven!"

The words swept over the crowd like the scent of the hawthorn. But some were afraid when the Master added: "See how innocent and glad they are. I tell you that he who is not like a little child he shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven! And woe to him who deceives one of these children! it were better he tied a millstone round his neck and were drowned in the sea! But whosoever accepts a child for My sake accepts Me!"

Then the disciples thought they understood over whom there was joy in heaven, and they disputed no longer over their own merits.

CHAPTER XX

Galilee was rich in poor men and poor in rich men. And it might have been thought that Jesus, the friend of the poor, was the right man in the right place there. And yet His teaching took no hold in that land.

A few rich men among a mult.i.tude of poor have all the more power because they are few, and they used all their influence with the people to dethrone the Prophet from His height, and to undermine His career.

These ill.u.s.trious men found their best tools in the Rabbis, who circulated the sophism that the people who followed the teaching of this man must quickly come to ruin. For the poor, who willingly gave up their last possessions, must become poorer, and the rich, who pursued their advantages, must become still richer, which implied that not the rich but only the poor would accept the Prophet's teaching, since we know that Jesus especially called on the rich to alter the tenor of their ways, and always for the benefit of the poor. But, they answered: The rich will not alter the tenor of their ways, they will consume the gentle disciples of Jesus, as the wolf the sheep. Many were impressed by that view, and lost courage: The Prophet means well, they reflected, but nothing is to be gained by adopting His methods.

Then it became known that Jesus had allowed Himself to be anointed. To allow Himself to be anointed meant that He regarded Himself as the Heaven-sent Messiah! And that was hostile to the existing order of things, to the king. So said the preachers in the synagogues, the houses, and the streets, but they were silent over the fact that the anointing was the work of a poor woman who desired to heal His sore feet. In fact, the preachers cared nothing for the people or the king but only for the letter of the law.

When the woman who had anointed His feet saw that He was despised because of her, she went silently apart by herself. No human being cared so much for Him, and none left Him so calmly. She did not go back to the old man she had married out of pity, and forgotten--out of love, but she went to relations at Bethany. Since the Prophet had raised her up before all the people, her relatives no longer closed their doors to her, but received her kindly.

Jesus was aware how His native ground tottered under His feet, how the people began to shun Him more and more, how the inns made difficulties about receiving Him. So He went, with those who were true to Him, out into the rocky desert of Judaea. He gained new adherents on the way, and people came from the surrounding places with pack and staff to hear the wonderful preacher. Some had had enough of the barren wisdom of the Pharisees, others were disgusted with the bad administration of the country, and with the fine promises of the Romans, they were ruined by the agricultural depression, or in despair over the low level of men's minds, over the barbarism of men. There were some, too, who had fled before the robber bands of Barabbas which infested the desert to their undoing. They came into His presence, hungering for the living word on which to feed their starving souls. John said to them: "His teaching is nourishment. His word is flesh. Who eats of His flesh and drinks of His blood will not die."

They wondered at those words. How were they to understand what was meant by eating His flesh and drinking His blood?

Then John; "The word is like flesh, it nourishes the soul. Manna was sent from Heaven for our ancestors, yet they died. His word is bread from heaven which makes us immortal." They remembered another saying: "His flesh is food indeed!" And they explained that a man's body is destined to be consumed by the spirit, like tallow and wick by flame.

So man, in order to become divine, must attain the divine life through the medium of humanity.

They remained with Him day and night in their thousands, and were satisfied. And many entreated Him to pour water over their heads as a token that they were His adherents and desired to be pure.