“Ohe (ity | oe of the Great King | and Other ‘Places in ‘Che Voly Land Li wav) “Pictured by “DEAN (?ORNWELL and “Described by WILLIAM {.YON ‘PHELPS cS st Ly ea! « . ‘ i 4 > \ A . The (ity of the Great King The Street of David and other places in the Holy Land Pictured by Dean Cornwell and Described by (illiam lajon Phelps Cosmopolitan Book Corporation New York MCMXXVI COPYRIGHT, 1925, 1926, BY INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE Company, Inc. (Good HOUSEKEEPING) ey CopyricHT, 1926, By CosMoPoLITAN Book CoRPoRATION All rights reserved, poading that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian. CON TEN TS The City of the Great King There Were Shepherds in the Fields . The Carpenter of Nazareth. The Way of the Cross . A Copper Shop in Jerusalem . The Golden Gate The Dead Sea and the Living Water . The Sea of Galilee . The Pot-Seller of Bethlehem A House in Nazareth . The Road to Damascus . The Church of the Holy Sepulchre 109 THE CITY OF THE GREAT KING oem CENITLY the New York papers € gent had news from Jerusalem on , the front page; so it ever was, is, and will be. The Holy City has always had what the slang of today calls “news value,’ and no wonder, for the greatest news came from it, the word Gospel meaning simply Good News. Long before the Jews invaded Palestine, Jerusalem was impor- tant; it reached a climax of glory in the reigns of David and the grandiose Solomon. Then the kings of the earth brought their glory and honor into it, as in the later dream of the apostle. Jerusalem has been conquered, retaken, con- quered again, razed, rebuilt, occupied by vari- ous nations and devotees of various religions. It has survived appalling calamities and appar- ently fatal disasters; like the fabled Phoenix, it rises from its own ashes, indestructible and unique. It has been the stage of innumerable 3 4 The City of the Great King battles; but though victor and vanquished soon joined the universal democracy of dust, the city lives. During the long centuries before Christ, the eyes of the world were frequently turned toward Jerusalem; in the Middle Ages, men, women, and alas! the children of Europe left their bodies on the journey thither; and after the city had seen in the course of its strange, eventful history soldiers in Jebusite, Jewish, Egyptian, Assyrian, Greek, Roman, and Arabian armor, Englishmen, clad in the khaki of the twentieth century, entered its gates. Forever associated with the Prince of Peace, it has been the prize and goal of many wars. As its history is one long drama, so drarnatic literature has found it a rich and fruitful theme. I open Shakespeare’s “King Henry IV,” and find these lines: Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,— Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross We are impressed and engag’d to fight,— Forthwith a power of English shall we levy, Whose arms were moulded in their mother’s womb To chase these pagans in those holy fields The City of the Great King 5 Over whose acres walk’d those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail’d For our advantage on the bitter cross. What was planned in the fifteenth century hap- pened in the twentieth. James Elroy Flecker, English poet, wrote in 1912: Then the black cannons of the Lord Shall wake crusading ghosts, And the Milky Way shall swing like a sword When Jerusalem vomits its horde On the Christmas Day preferred of the Lord, The Christmas Day of the Hosts! Christmas, 1914, as he lay on his deathbed, Flecker added a footnote, “This poem contains . words that ring like a prophecy of events that may occur very soon.” I read his note for the first time at Christmastide, 1917, as the Eng- lish army entered Jerusalem. In 1925, John Masefield, the English poet, wrote his tragedy, “The Trial of Jesus,” and in the same year the American poet Don Marquis printed his passion play, “The Dark Hours.” Jerusalem is as inexhaustible in literature and in drama as it is in reality. The size of a country has no relation to its 6 The City of the Great King influence. Palestine is about 160 miles north and south and about 80 east and west. Jerusalem is about the size of Binghamton, New York, but there is no city whose name is more univer- sally known. And although it has a conglomera- tion of races and religions, it is quite the opposite of a melting-pot. It is a mingling, not a mix- ture; in its narrow streets men touch elbows, men whose worlds of thought are as remote as the east is from the west. The admirable artist, Dean Cornwell, has given us a picture so faithful and so dynamic that we not only can see the activity depicted, but can almost hear the noises and smell the odors. The East is one prodigious international smell, which I am quite willing to inhale from painted resemblances and from books of travel. Here is one city unpenetrated by the Ford, and yet its streets are choked with traffic. This par- ticular thoroughfare is the Street of David in its normal condition today. It is the principal street of the city, and, crossed by Christian Street, quarters the city into Jewish, Moham- medan, Greek, and Christian sections. The City of the Great King 7 As I look at the colors, turbulence, and varie- gated crowd, I feel that I have seen Jerusalem without having been there; and this is exactly what the artist intended me to see and feel. If the experiment is successful on me—and it is— it will doubtless work in a similar fashion on most readers, for experience has taught me that I am an average man. The streets of Jerusalem are about nine feet wide; they are as free from vehicular traffic as Venice. Laden camels take the place of trucks, and the sheep and the goats are as yet socially undivided. Observe the costumes of men and women; they wear racial uniforms. The float- ing population is composed of pilgrims from Mecca and Algiers, natives of the Sudan, now-homeless Russians, and_ ever-homeless Armenians. The Moslem colors are red and green, and holy days and holidays abound. These things have not changed, but the American gasoline- can has supplanted the oriental water-jar, even as in America the filling-station has taken the place of the saloon. 8 The City of the Great King To men of various races and religions, the name Jerusalem connotes varying thoughts. But to Christians it is the City of the Great King, and above all, the City of his Son, the King of Kings. We love Jerusalem because Our Lord loved it. Were ever words addressed to any city more tender than these? O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy chil- dren together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! It is not only the city of David, and of his Greater Son, it is not only the blood-stained city of the past, it gives its name to the Ideal City of the future, the capital of the Kingdom of God. And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And when the saints see that City in their dreams, with its towers and domes and pinnacles in the eternal light, they sing, Jerusalem the Golden! rere Cer, Shep ee inthe Hields a 79 hs ' ' i ir ' “49, > a t £9 hemas they appear today . These powerful children of sun have the haughty dignity and careless grace of royal blood. Dedouin shepherds at Beth - 4 THERE WERE SHEPHERDS IN THE FIELDS Ya| the artist, with admirable com- \R7 a bination of line and color, has (@@| given us a vivid portrayal of the Exa=@) Bedouin shepherds at Bethle- hem as ae appear today. The word “Bed- ouins” means dwellers in the open, or, as they name themselves, tent-people. Even as the Jews are the children of Abraham, so the Bedouins claim the same lofty lineage. As Isaac was the son of Abraham and Sarah, the wandering Ish- mael was the son of Abraham and Hagar. Now, according to the Bedouin tradition, these no- mads regard Ishmael as the father of their race. In a certain sense, Jews, Mohammedans, and Christians are all brothers; for David was among the descendants of Abraham, and in the line of the great king came in due process of time the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. I'l 12 The City of the Great King Although the shepherds in the picture might seem to tourists little better than vagabonds or tramps, no pale-faced European aristocrat has in his temperament more pride of race. These powerful children of the sun have the haughty dignity and careless grace of royal blood. They are wanderers by both choice and necessity, for the fierce heat of summer and the bitter winds of winter make scanty and meager pasturage. They may seem to lead their flocks of sheep and goats, but in reality the animals lead them, for the life of one and the livelihood of the other depend upon grass. Here the earth is red, abounding in broken stones; to a superficial glance about the only vegetation appears to con- sist of sparse groves of gray-green olive trees. The upright figure, who dominates the whole picture, wears the long, aristocratic sleeves of antiquity, so long that their ends touch the ground. No working costume is this, nor is it meant to be; others work, he commands. The man seated in the foreground, with his back turned to us, wears a thing of shreds and patches, a sheepskin—his diploma of the open air— The City of the Great King 13 with the fur side inside. How they endure these sultry coverings in summer is as mysterious as the burden of seven or eight layers of clothes worn by Russian cab-drivers in July. The musician of the little party is discoursing melody on a shepherd’s pipe, two bamboo cylinders hitched together. Perhaps the words that go with this air resemble in significance those of Bayard Taylor’s passionate Bedouin love-song: From the Desert I come to thee On a stallion shod with fire; And the winds are left behind In the speed of my desire. Under thy window I stand, And the midnight hears my cry: I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die Till the sun grows cold, And the stars are old, And the leaves of the Judgment Book unfold! The huge tent to the right is of heavy, dark wool. In the background old men are sitting with the boys, and it is the business of the latter to tend the flocks. Women, unlike children, are in these particular groups neither seen nor heard. 14 The City of the Great King But you may be sure they are not idle, for they are beasts of burden. At this moment they may be walking the six dusty miles to Jerusalem, carrying on their unveiled heads leather recep- tacles filled with cheese. The proud and independent Bedouins are not aware that they are on holy ground; they talk and trade and oversee their flocks in an in- difference to sacred history as complete as that of the gambling Roman soldiers at the foot of the Cross. But we, who live not as they after the fashion of remote antiquity, we children of the twentieth century, gaze on this harsh and barren land with feelings compounded of solemn wor- ship and ineffable tenderness. For over this sterile waste came Mary to the inn. Over this ground she went away carrying in her arms the Hope of the World. Brought up, as every American is or should be, on the most beautiful of all stories, the story told by St. Luke, we often imagine that the Shepherds of the Night who did homage to the Divine Child must have been gentle and kindly The City of the Great King 15 welt ae in al TET le ee men. In all probability it was quite otherwise. As the Son of Man had in his face, bearing, and voice such authority that the rough, virile fisher- men left their nets, their work, and their friends to follow him, and were born again into the Kingdom of God, so the uncouth and savage shepherds of the Nativity, who had never feared either the face of nature or the face of man, be- came, at the celestial light, sore afraid. It was not until they stood in the Divine Presence that they were transformed. Not until after that revolutionary experience did they glorify and praise God. They were changed, even as later the wild heart of Saul was changed by the vision of the Light of the World. We must forget—if we ever believed—that these men were Sunday School shepherds. I advise all lovers of the Gospel story to read one of the English medieval mystery plays—say the Second Shepherds’ Play—where in crude but convincing realism the rough herders are truly depicted; and as the Wise Men brought royal gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh, so 16 The City of the Great King a ae ee EH Oa ORD ET the shepherds brought pretty playthings that from time immemorial have won the heart of a little child. In the background of the picture is the town of Bethlehem, containing today about eight thou- sand people. There is no gradual transition from city to country by the suburban process; the buildings of the town are huddled together as if in concerted protection against the fierce winds; and beyond the last row of houses is the bleak desert. Sharp as is this contrast, it is not so sharp as the contrast between the significance of Bethlehem before and after the birth of Jesus. As one individual has often changed the course of history, so the Divine Child changed one com- monplace village from almost complete obscur- ity into the center of the world’s civilization. From this barren ground sprang the inexhaust- ible well of living water. Look again at the picture. As we gaze on these shepherds in the garish day, it takes but little imagination for the sunshine to turn into starlight, and we see “in the same country” the nameless but immortal shepherds keeping watch The City of the Great King 17 over their flock by night. Then the bright stars paled before the Star of Bethlehem. Then the shepherds left their sheep to behold the Lamb of God. i - f ». 1 we 4 ; om Ae, Tr + ‘ i % : it y : ‘ 7 J 4 ; 3 1 . { i : & i : ‘ ; : ‘ ; ’ x N ; t : ‘ a cake . ; ear, Ohe Carpenter of azareth ot : eae ea I sa) pee a a th- ful delineation of an actual car. Nf penter’s shop i in Nazareth today fs Ce Hh, My ii Ho THE CARPENTER OF NAZARETH mel’ ANY tourist has photographed, peal or any other artist painted, a | scene similar to this of the car- penter of Nazareth, I have not @} discovered it. This is not an imaginary picture of Jesus and Joseph, but a faithful delineation of an actual carpenter’s shop in Nazareth today. Mr. Cornwell has re- produced a typical shop, a typical father and son, the actual furniture and structure of the building, the peculiar implements used in the craft. These are timeless tools and timeless methods. Things and customs do not change in the East as with us—there is no Yankee ingenuity, no passion for efficiency, no desire to be up to date. The standard is not in the future, but in the past. It is because it was. The carpenter is sitting on the ground—in an attitude that years of habit have made comfort- 2! 22 The City of the Great King able for him. With his left foot he holds the wood in a secure position, while he drills. Be- hind him are poles, with bark on, from which he crudely fashions camel saddles, plows, ax- handles, hoes, forks—all the things of utility used in the simple life of farming in and around Nazareth. Drags, used for threshing, are among the principal things he makes; one is leaning against the wall at the right of the pic- ture, and another is on the ground, partly cov- ered by his “abaya” carelessly thrown over it. Notice the serious attitude of the boy. He is not only working, but is interested. He is not day-dreaming, nor is he wondering how soon this toil will be over, so that he can go out and play. It will not be over, and he will not go out and play. This boy does not know that he is missing anything; the relation between father and son in Palestine is not merely a family re- lation; it is professional. The boy is eager to learn; he wants to imitate his father, and he al- ready has something of the pride of partnership in the “firm.” This is, of course, locally true not merely of carpenters, but of potters, shoemakers, The City of the Great King 23 blacksmiths, coppersmiths, etc. The streets are not filled with noisy boys; they are at work. The artist, by giving us not an imaginary pic- ture of Jesus and Joseph, but a realistic painting of a carpenter and his son at work in Nazareth today, has through his very representation brought the boyhood of Our Lord closer to us than any fancy. The tools and the methods of work have not changed; and as this father and son in 1925 put their bodies and minds into their daily toil, so undoubtedly did Joseph and the Son of Man. When we think of the birth of Jesus and also of his death, we think of him associated with his mother. The Virgin and the Babe have illu- minated twenty centuries with celestial radiance; and by the Cross stood the mother, sharing in her heart every agony of her Son. But in the long interval between babyhood and the Jordan baptism, there must have been hours, and days, and weeks, and months, and years of the closest intimacy between Jesus and Joseph; in Nazareth Jesus was known as “the carpenter’s son.” When he began his ministry there, where he had 24 The City of the Great King SS been brought up, the attention of the crowd was drawn to him because for many years they had seen him at his daily work with his foster-father; and they had the same curiosity to hear him that always characterizes the people of a village when some native boy who has been away to study returns and takes up professional duties for the first time. Everybody comes out to hear him. Listen to the words of St. Luke: And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up; and, as his custom was, he went into the synagogue on the sabbath day, and stood up forstoireads.. 4c And he began to say unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears. And all bare him witness, and wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth. And they said, Is not this Joseph’s son? As we look at the picture, it is pleasant to think of the years of intimacy between Joseph and the divine youth. This would have been emphasized by Eastern customs, which persist even unto this day. I refer to the separation of the men from the women. The male members of the family The City of the Great King 25 work, eat, pray, and take their recreation apart from the women. Thus the ordinary pride that every boy everywhere takes in imitating his father, in “being a man,” is strengthened in Palestine by inseparable association. The ear- nestness of the young apprentice in this painting indicates masculine pride; “we men work to- gether.” We think of Jesus as the son of Mary, but the people of Nazareth thought of him as the son of Joseph. An amazing feature of the life of Our Lord is its long period of obscurity; from childhood to the age of thirty there is recorded not one event in his life, not a word from his lips. The most important and influential Per- sonality in history spent nearly all his life in secret preparation for a short career—there is a lesson in that too obvious to miss. What did Joseph and Jesus talk about, in the days of sum- merr What thoughts passed through the boy’s mind as he did his mechanical work? Well, as we gaze on this picture, our imagination is irre- sistibly drawn to the years of cheerful toil, where 26 The City of the Great King REI SE AE Sl a the divine workman learned and practiced his trade. This is how he looked and this is how he toiled. Perhaps one day, while he was fashioning a yoke for oxen, an idea came to him that in later years he was to use in the most beautiful and most memorable of his sayings: Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. I suppose none of the great speeches of Our Lord has been more misunderstood and misrep- resented than this. The yoke is usually repre- sented as the badge of servitude, and Jesus is supposed to be insisting that we must become his slaves, and suffer his yoke, as though the yoke wereacross. But as hasbeen repeatedly pointed out, Jesus was a carpenter; he had made yokes; he knew that the yoke was not an additional tor- ture to the patient ox, it was the yoke that made it easy for the ox to draw his burden. The yoke saved his neck from being galled; it enabled him to bear an enormous burden, because the yoke The City of the Great King 27 was “easy.” In applying this figure, drawn from the carpenter shop, Jesus was telling us that the burden we all have to bear is simply life, the daily weight of care, work, and worry; it is not a calamity or disaster, it is just the daily bur- den of living. Our Lord seems to say: “You must draw this burden; let me show you how to draw it most easily, with the least suffer- ing. Try my yoke, take my method, practice my way of living, and you will find the burden is light. You will find rest unto your souls.” took his last melancholy pilgrim- . ) he Jerusalem street now known for many centuries as the Via Dolorosa. ... It was — along this street that Onn Lord — age to ignominy, torture, and death. THE WAY OF THE CROSS PSE HE accompanying picture shows 25 y) ae) us the Jerusalem street now cB | jeex| known for many centuries as the Via Dolorosa. The artist paint- ed it one bright Sunday at high noon, and the cheerful activity of the scene gives no suggestion why this thoroughfare bears its tragic name. We look along the sloping street ; there is a turn at almost a rightangle to the left which continues for a hundred yards or so, and then right again to the Place of Judgment. The scene, although not overcrowded, is full of life. In the strong sunshine appear the boy and the patient beast of burden, the latter infal- libly reminding us of the humble manner in which the King of Kings entered Jerusalem. In. the background is a man heavily laden, and in the cool shadow to the right is the inevitable beg- gar. Overhead, on either side of the powerful arches, are revealed the peculiarities of local do- 31 32 The City of the Great King mestic architecture; and not the least brilliant color in a scene full of color is, unspeakably far aloft, the cloudless blue. Although this particular road is called the Via Dolorosa, there is not a street in the city which has not at some time or other been stained with blood. The history of Jerusalem is appalling ; so many times has it been captured by armed forces of so many and various nations, sO many times has it been destroyed and rebuilt, so many times have helpless fugitives, trying in vain to escape from ruthless pursuers, been put to the torture and the sword. From the centuries before Joshua crossed the Jordan to the moment, only a few years ago, when the British army entered its gates, Jerusa- lem, always bearing the same name, has been attacked and defended with ferocity. Perhaps no other city in the world has experienced so many tragedies over so long a range of time. Strangest of paradoxes—that the city held sa- cred by Jews, by Christians, and by Mohamme- dans, should have been the theater for such a succession of terrible dramas! If the stones The City of the Great King 33 ————— could indeed cry out, what tales of horror would they tell! It is fortunate that echoes are tran- sient; that they die with the voice that awakens them. It was along this street, along this Via Dolo- rosa, that Our Lord took his last melancholy pil- grimage that was to end in ignominy, torture, and death—from which sacrifice was to spring eternally the hope of the world. He had been scourged—an abominably cruel punishment; he had worn the crown of thorns; pale and sick with suffering, amid the taunts of the indifferent soldiers and the insults of the mob, he walked to the final tragedy and the final triumph. This picture of the Way takes us back to the day of days. Never in history was there such an instance of what the old poet called High Hu- mility. Many a man has died for other men; but the marvel of the Gospel story is the Son of God submitting not merely to physical pain and death, but to the vilest insult and injury and deg- radation in order that he might save those who are farther removed from his glory than the low- est insect from the glory of man. 34 The City of the Great King Look again at the picture. It is the Via Dolo- rosa near the Fifth Station. It was at the Fifth Station where Simon of Cyrene took the cross. It was a recognized part of the ritual of torture that the condemned man must bear his own cross on the road to the place of execution; undoubt- edly Jesus began the journey in this manner, and so we are informed in the Fourth Gospel; but Matthew, Mark, and Luke state that a certain bystander, Simon the Cyrenian, who little knew of the secure and deathless fame he was to achieve by his burden, was compelled by the soldiers to carry the cross. A short distance from this bend in the Via Dolorosa occurred one of the most dramatically impressive incidents in the whole tragic drama —it is one of many events related only by Luke. Among the huge rabble that followed Jesus there were many inspired by aggressive malig- nity, many by idle curiosity; but close to the Divine Sufferer was a group of following women, mourning the fate of the best friend of humanity, who, although now a captive, had al- ready conquered their faithful and loyal hearts. The City of the Great King 35 The scene stands out from the pages of the Gos- pel in an intensity forever vivid: And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for your- selves, and for your children. For, behold, the days are coming, in the which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bare, and the paps which never gave suck. Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Cover us. I hope that all those who look at this picture and who are now reading these lines will make a resolution to go, if it be in any way possible, to the mountain village of Ober-Ammergau in the summer of 1930 and see the Passion Play. I have seen nearly all actors who have achieved international fame during the last thirty years; but never have I seen any play or any acting comparable to the production of the drama of Our Lord’s life and death given by the peasants in that remote little town. Twice at the ten-year interval have I seen it; and no spectacle either of nature or of human nature is more lastingly en- 36 The City of the Great King Sa a A SS TS DS PE TSS LE RSS graved on my mind. And of all the long day’s drama, the one incident that I remember most vividly is this incident along the Via Dolorosa. Seven hundred people were on the stage, every one actuated by a sincerity beyond the reach of a more sophisticated art. The mob was shouting in rage and derision; the little boys were picking up stones to throw at the victim, and screaming, “To the cross with the Galilean!’ In the center of this surging mass walked Jesus in sad seren- ity, while directly behind him followed a little group of sobbing women. Suddenly Jesus stopped, stood still; and awed by some incomprehensible spell, the unruly and turbulent throng grew still as death. The chil- dren stood with the stones in their hands; the soldiers stopped laughing; the crowd was like sculpture. In this strange and sudden silence, the pale, weary Sufferer spoke the words of doom. From the point depicted by the artist the Way leads through a narrow, busy thoroughfare, lined with shops. At the end of this street, in the Abyssinian Church, is a broken pillar that The City of the Great King 37 ste i a Sd ce marks the spot where Jesus fell for the third time. Through a narrow opening in the wall one passes to the entrance of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and at last stumbles up dark, worn steps to the Mount of Calvary. Al Copper Shop i — Jerusalem Mas scene is a perfect m + net for any wandering The hand-wrought, unalloy de copper utensils reflect the glori- ous light of the Syrian sua OS ed pone § § 7 A COPPER SHOP IN JERUSALEM pa O ONE with a seeing eye and an FAlfasrieone heart can walk the streets of Jerusalem today apecnout being attracted by many Ul things of unforgetable associa- tion with events that exist for us in the pages of the Sacred Book. It is no wonder, then, that the painter’s attention was attracted by this scene. It isa perfect magnet for any wandering eye. The hand-wrought, unalloyed copper utensils reflect the glorious golden light of the Syrian sun—as breastplates of Roman soldiers reflected it when this same street ran through a valley and the Son of Man walked there. The proprietor of the shop, the prospective pur- chaser and his wife might have bartered here long centuries ago, so little changed are they in custom, habit, or even style of dress. How could any one with the uncanny ability to transfer liv- ing scenes to canvas pass by such a place as this? 41 42 The City of the Great King This particular copper shop stands today on “The Valley,” a long street in Jerusalem, run- ning from the Damascus Gate on the northwest to the Dung Gate on the southeast. The man with his back turned to us and his wife may be near-by country folk, who by the sweat of their brows wring a mere subsistence from the reluc- tant soil. Or they may have come up from He- bron, a score of miles southward from Jerusa- Iem. The yellow cloth covering the man’s head and reaching down his back is often seen among the men of Hebron, which is in the midst of a rocky yet fairly fertile country where produce can be raised for the city market. Following an old historic highway, peopled with ghosts of the past—Solomon’s Pools, containing the reser- voirs for both Bethlehem and Jerusalem, were somewhere along this trail—they have come to the metropolis to dispose of their produce and purchase a few necessaries, and at the close of their day in the city they will trudge back through the nightfall, home. The ancient Hebrews were prodigiously fond of copper or brass, which is the same thing (as a The City of the Great King 43 matter of fact, the word copper occurs only once in our Authorized Version of the Old Testa- ment, where brass is used frequently ) ; they made altars, candlesticks, armor, helmets, household utensils, mirrors—they loved the golden glow, the royal splendor of these things; they loved to see them in their temples, in their public build- ings, and in their houses. Thus there were, as we learn from the constant references to this bright metal in the Book of Exodus, a vast num- ber of expert artificers. But we can go back much farther than Exodus—in fact, we can go back to the beginning; for in the fourth chapter of the Book of Genesis, we learn that the first smith on record, Tubal-Cain, was not only an expert himself, he was a professor of the art; “an instructor of every artificer in brass and iron.” Thus, when the Israelites entered into Palestine, they brought the secret of this beau- tiful craft with them. Every one of the various implements on exhi- bition in this shop has been made by hand, and most of them hammered out by the proprietor in the dark interior of the building. Thus they 44 The City of the Great King cannot be standardized, cannot be belched out by machines by the thousand; .every one is an individual work of loving art and care, and has not its exact counterpart anywhere in the world. Although the Hebrews understood the art of fashioning copper into useful and beautiful utensils, the shapes of the vessels in this particu- lar shop come principally from early Greek and Roman forms. The student may verify this in the museum at Damascus. A very few of these pieces on exhibition were not made in this shop at all; some came from Persia, and two from Russia; they must have been bought second-hand by the shop-keeper from passing bankrupt pil- grims. To return to the street in front of the shop. It is called “The Valley” exactly as Fleet Street, London, bears its name; it commemorates some- thing that was, and no longer is. This present thoroughfare is anywhere from twenty to ninety feet above the original valley. The chasm has been gradually filled up by sliding accumula- tions of rubbish from both sides. ‘Today it is a narrow but not a straight road, winding along The City of the Great King 45 through the center of Jerusalem. Josephus called it The Valley of the Cheesemongers, and another name for it was The Place of Mer- chants. The northern section of it runs through the Mohammedan quarter, and the southern through the Jewish. The Gate of Damascus at the northwest terminus is the meeting-place of four roads, and the Dung Gate at the southeast- ern end is the main entry through the southern walls; the long street is filled with shops, with peasants who bring in garden-truck, and with itinerant merchants. Although the road has risen so that it no longer resembles its name (El Wad, or Valley), in every other respect it must look as in the days when Joseph, Mary, and the Child came down from Galilee. Coming from the tiny settlement at Nazareth, Jesus must have been in a state of wide-eyed wonder as he followed his parents through this turbulent thoroughfare, and saw the shops and heard the cries of street venders. Possibly some particular scene here sank into his youthful mind, and years later came to the sur- face as a striking illustration as when he said, 46 The City of the Great Kane ee “They are like children sitting in the market- places, and calling one to another.” Or when he spoke of the self-righteous persons who loved to receive salutations in the markets, or of the laborers who stood there idle—in these instances Jesus may have been using illustrations that were first impressed upon him when as a coun- try lad he saw the crowded Street of the Valley in Jerusalem. It is possible that the Immortal Three stood for some time in front of a copper shop like this, for Joseph was a man of importance in Nazareth and would not have come to the southern city without funds. Possibly he bought some vessel of resplendent metal, burnished and fine, and carried it back with him to Nazareth. The D1- vine Child would have been pleased with its shining glory, and in the future, when he was at work at home in the northern village, its pres- ence would have reminded him of the pil- gtimage to Jerusalem. In the stories and speeches of Our Lord which fell from his lips during the brief years of his ministry, there are many allusions to local cus- The City of the Great King 47 toms; so that a picture such as the artist has here given us, absolutely authentic in every detail, has immense significance, and helps us, as we read the New Testament narrative, to see the actual environment made by Him forever mem- orable. Golden Gate he Golden Ga through mee which Jesus entered Jeru- salem on the day of his greatest earthly triumph—Palm Sunday, ‘ f a oo ao THE GOLDEN GATE i Foe QIN a certain fair Sunday, almost (i SY exactly nineteen hundred years NCSI 2G 2g) ago, the solidly walled-up gate, QE veh which you see in the picture, stood wide open to admit the light of the sun and the Light of the World. The portal faced due east, and the brilliant rays of the sun came out of the mist hanging over the Dead Sea, crowned the Mount of Olives, bathed the Garden of Gethsemane, changed by heavenly alchemy the water of the brook Kidron into liv- ing gold, and flooded the great gate, then the eastern gate of the areas of the Temple, with triumphant radiance. Looking out from the walls into the barren distance, one would have descried a little group approaching the city. An ass, accompanied by her foal, advanced, carrying a splendid, youth- ful figure whose serene face had the air of kingly authority. It was in the spring of the year; the 51 Rts z Se 52 The City of the Great King gardens about Jerusalem were in bloom. It was the time of Passover, when thousands of devout Jews flocked to the holy city. Outside the walls were many tents, where the pilgrims had en- camped. As the Son of God drew nearer, ac- companied by his disciples, and by his intimate friend, Lazarus, whom he had brought back to life, the news of his approach spread like the wind from tent to tent, from group to group, and like the destined future of Christianity itself, the Master and his disciples became the center of an enormous throng of shouting, cheering, singing enthusiasts. | However great may be the jealous hatred of high-placed individuals toward any new leader, the common people always recognize one who loves them, and on this Sunday morning in the first century they knew that the quiet figure on the humble beast was their best friend. Their enthusiasm was as ungovernable as it was spon- taneous; they took off their outer garments and spread them before him; they cut down branches from the trees and waved them in the air. Thus amid the joyful multitude of cheering, singing The City of the Great King 53 men and women, Jesus passed through the Golden Gate. St. Matthew has given us the story in his own concise and dramatic manner: And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, and were come to Bethphage, unto the mount of Olives, then sent Jesus two disciples, Saying unto them, Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass tied, and a colt with her: loose them, and bring them unto me. Bae And the disciples went, and did as Jesus com- manded them, And brought the ass, and the colt, and put on them their clothes, and they set him thereon. And a very great multitude spread their gar- ments in the way; others cut down branches from the trees, and strawed them in the way. And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest. And when he was come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved, saying, Who is this? And the multitude said, This is Jesus the prophet of Nazareth of Galilee. We learn from St. Luke’s account that the jealous anger of the Pharisees found utterance even before Jesus reached the gate. They could not endure to hear him saluted as the King com- 54 The City of the Great King rer Ne a a EN WT Ok OP eR ing in the name of the Lord, and they said an- grily, “Master, rebuke thy disciples.” And Jesus said, “I tell you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.” Indeed a prophetic word; for today, when the gate is closed and silent and the shouting multi- tudes are no more, the stones do cry out in eternal witness to Him who made this portal forever significant. To readers of the Bible the Golden Gate in this picture is the most interesting portal in the world. The fiery prophet Ezekiel made a proph- ecy concerning it; he declared that it would eventually be closed, and he gave the reason; and as we look on its impenetrable front today, two references in Scripture rise irresistibly in our minds: the prophecy by Ezekiel; and its ful- filment by the Prince of Peace. Listen to the words of the old Hebrew prophet: Then he brought me back the way of the gate of the outward sanctuary which looketh toward the east; and it was shut. Then said the Lord unto me; This gate shall be shut, it shall not be opened, and no man shall enter The City of the Great King 55 in by it; because the Lord, the God of Israel, hath entered in by it, therefore it shall be shut. It is for the prince; the prince, he shall sit in it to eat bread before the Lord; he shall enter by the way of the porch of that gate, and shall go out by the way of the same. In early Christian times this gate was believed to be the same as the Gate Beautiful mentioned in the third chapter of Acts, “the gate of the tem- ple which is called Beautiful,” where Peter and John gave to the cripple something more val- uable than silver and gold. In fact, the word “golden” probably arose from a confusion of the Greek word Horaea (beautiful) with the Latin aurea (golden). Even if the Golden Gate received its modern name through an error, it richly deserves its ap- pellation. For, as it faces the east, the glori- ous sunlight floods it with the gold of the morning. The two arches in the gate certainly appear to be of Roman construction; they are called re- spectively the Gate of Repentance and the Gate of Mercy, and they opened originally into the court of the Temple. Although all Christian 56 The City of the Great King people have the best of reasons for loving this gate, it also occupies an important place in the traditions of the Jews and of the Mohammedans. The commonly accepted story is that the Turks walled up the entrance so that the future Jewish Messiah could not enter here. The Mohamme- dans have a notion that Mohammed will walk across the brook Kidron ona hair stretched from the top of the Mount of Olives, over this gate, into the city. Enormous stones lie loosely around its foot, as the picture shows, and one wonders by what sys- tem of engineering they were brought there. Directly before the portal is an Arab cemetery. Every Friday the Arab women visit these graves and force unconsciously upon the attention of the Christian pilgrim the contrast between the symbols of death and the triumphant entry of Him who took away its sting. On Palm Sunday Jesus entered through this gate in triumph, during the week he suffered humiliation and anguish, and on the following Sunday he triumphed not only for all time, but over time itself. The City of the Great King 57 The Gate, opened to admit Jesus, is now closed; but no closed gate or stone walls can keep him out, for as he entered into the temple, now the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, the Spirit of Truth, knows no barriers, no obstacles, but finds the way into what Milton called the great- est of all temples, the upright heart and pure. Ghe Dead Sea id the Livin g Water f The dark hina silent : sea 1s Uh lapis lazuli; it has the so solitude of death; no life Deal its waters, no life along i its desolate edge. THE DEAD SEA AND THE LIVING WATER wide say that one of the most beautiful views in the world is ) the prospect from the top of the Mount of Olives, looking east- ward toward the plain of the Jordan and the Dead Sea. One stands nearly three thousand feet above the level of the Mediterranean and glances more than four thousand feet downward into the cleft in the earth’s surface containing the valley of the Jordan and its descent into the Salt Sea. Fifteen miles away a patch of the keenest blue reveals the sea itself, and the moun- tains on its eastward side stand out in various colors against the sky. Had this tract of land and water no historical significance, it would still be a thing of marvel- ous beauty; but when one thinks of its religious 61 62 The City of the Great King and spiritual associations, one is almost over- come. The brilliant blue of sky and sea, and the des- olate land in the fierce sunshine are brought out impressively by the artist. This picture was painted at the northern end of the Dead Sea, where there is a tiny indentation. We are look- ing westward; beyond the pink hills on the west- ern shore is Jerusalem, and still farther along, the Mediterranean; directly behind us is the mouth of the Jordan; Jericho is at our right, and near by, the desert. Observe the dry, blanched deposit of salt on the shores. The country looks hot, and it is; Mr. Cornwell informs us that on the day he sketched this scene the thermometer was 130 degrees in the shade. Here we are 1300 feet below the level of the Mediterranean, a hot pocket indeed. The inten- sity of heat and light is so sharply reflected in the picture that one feels them. The shack in the foreground is the only human habitation that the artist discovered on or near the shore; the Arabic architect made an unfinished symphony of the building, perhaps in that blazing heat not The City of the Great King 63 caring to endure an unnecessary gesture. You observe that he did not take the trouble to saw off any poles, allowing them to wander off into space. Like a bird building a nest, he took what- ever material was handy, incorporating a dead tree into the framework. The Jordan washes down plenty of rubbish and driftwood, and along its shores may be found the bamboo poles and palm which the builder used for thatching. The name “Dead Sea” does not occur in the Bible, the sheet of water always being named the Salt Sea. Our first Biblical reference to this re- gion is in Genesis 13: 5-13, where the herds- men of Abram and Lot quarreled about the pas- turage. Then and there might have occurred a civil war over the eternal question of land-hun- ger, had it not been for the deep wisdom and for- bearance of Abram, who set an example which might well have been more frequently followed. He suggested to Lot that instead of fighting and both losing, they separate and both gain; adding magnanimously that Lot might choose which- ever direction he preferred to go, and Abram would take the other. Accordingly “Lot lifted 64 The City of the Great King up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of Jordan, that it was well watered everywhere . . . even as the garden of the Lord.” Today it is quite otherwise; the dark blue silent sea is like lapis lazuli; it has the solemn solitude of death; no life within its waters, no life along its desolate edge. The beach is crusted with salty stones and littered with the corpses of trees. The land is cracked with unsatisfied thirst ; the limestone hills, “like giants at a hunt- ing,” seem to watch and wait in the glare for some portentous event. The only beauty in the scene is in the varying, ever-changing colors of the desert with the bright blue of sky and sea. Over on the east is the rolling country of Moab whence came Ruth; on the west are the hills of Judea, occupied by the soldiers of Israel. In the atmosphere of death surrounding the sea once stood the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah; and in the same region came the austere John the Baptist, foretelling the advent of Life. The famous bathing place in the Jordan is not far away; here come thousands of pilgrims every year, descending into the sacred stream. There The City of the Great King 65 the Teacher himself was baptized, and there be- gan that ministry which was to change the course of history. As Palestine is the Holy Land for both Jews and Christians, so is the Jordan near its entrance into the Salt Sea forever associated both with the Old and with the New Testament. The waters parted as Joshua led his host into the Promised Land; they parted again for Elijah and then for Elisha; near the same place came the reluctant, skeptical, and angry Naaman, who, as he gazed at the muddy, warm, insignificant river, thought of the rich streams of Abana and Pharpar, and wondered why this uninviting water should pos- sess virtues unknown to the rivers of Damascus. Topographically the valley of the Jordan is one of the most peculiar wrinkles on the old face of the earth. The river rises some thousand feet above sea level, from two springs between Leb- anon and Hermon. It flows through a shad- owed canyon for about seven miles, wanders later into a broad marsh which widens into a little lake; farther along it becomes the Sea of Galilee, then, emerging at the southeast corner, 66 The City of the Great King rushes with ever-increasing speed and turbu- lence, becoming tepid, turbid, and swollen in the rainy season, often overflowing its banks. It tumbles into the Basin of Death at a depression of 1300 feet. Its entire length in a straight line is only about 120 miles, but its twists and turns give it an actual length of 240 miles. The contrast between the living Jordan and the Dead Sea may be symbolically represented in the picture of Heaven in the Apocalypse, where there is the River of Life, but there is no more sea. Every river has for me a peculiar fascination. It is alive: living water flowing through mead- ows, through forests, between cliffs, over sands, never standing still, always moving and always going somewhere, as though well aware of its destination. The Bible begins and ends with a river. In the second chapter of Genesis we learn that “a river went out of Eden to water the garden” —a lovely spectacle. Paradise could never have been complete without the sound of running water. And in the last chapter of Revelation we The City of the Great King 67 learn that “he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and the Lamb.” It is curious that when the Bible distinctly speaks of this ever- lasting river of Life, “on either side of the river was there the tree of life,”’ the old heathen idea of the River of Death still possesses the minds of many Christians. Dante and Bunyan have fixed it in the imagination of believers, who talk about “crossing the river.” But as a matter of fact, there is no place in Christian thought for a River of Death. On the contrary, both the earthly and the heavenly paradise had a river to gladden and refresh the happy inhabitants. A river itself is like a human life. The source is often obscure, humble, and unimportant; in its early stages it is a tiny stream, then swelling, growing bigger and more important, just as a man’s influence extends; now flowing tran- quilly, like prosperous, comfortable days; now getting into sand flats and shallows, hardly mov- ing, like some period of long sickness; now roar- ing and rushing tempestuously in rapids, like times of stress, excitement, and panic; now a 68 The City of the Great King huge waterfall, like a calamity of serious magni- tude; yet always going on toward the sea. It is an interesting and suggestive fact that Palestine has both the living Jordan and the Dead Sea. And what man or woman familiar with the Bible can help thinking that in the same region where stood the incredibly wicked cities of the plain came the Divine Son of God who was himself the well of water springing up into everlasting life? GOhe Sea of Galilee ” alilean fishermen, eather ape the first disciples, bringing their catch to market, even as Peter and Andrew and the sons of | Zebedee brought theirs. 7) ane lt “ae a4: sf & Aa _ = "s 4, 7 Ne yy > liar it : i ra ' ~~ a oy ’ obi fy ‘ ” oe ul Sih ‘a 7 a i ‘ ‘ ‘ We a - i 1 t ° i i \ <¢ > 4 THE SEA OF GALILEE mama] LTE picture of the Galilean fisher- LAS] (RGce) ) Be ok bs men was painted by the artist not long ago, but it might well | represent the scene, the men, and H the customs of the time of Our Lord. It is the light of dawn; the fishers have been out all night, and the results of their profes- sional work are in evidence. The calm of early morning is broken only by the activity of the toilers of the sea. The shores of this lake are held in reverence by millions who never saw them with the eyes of flesh; and there is indeed no portion of the earth’s surface so clearly visualized by for- eigners as the land and water of Palestine. The map of the Holy Land is carried in the minds of countless throngs of men and women of all na- tions; and those few who travel thither have more the pleasure of recognition than the excite- ment of surprise. 71 72 The City of the Great King It was along the banks of the Sea of Galilee that Jesus called to him his first disciples. The infant Jesus was first saluted by shepherds, and his ministry began with fishermen, indicating his ultimate dominion over land and sea. Chris- tianity was, is, and will be essentially a mission- ary movement, by far the greatest enterprise ever undertaken in human history. The goal is the highest possible—nothing less than the salvation of the world by the regeneration of man. The movement started by this little lake has contin- ued for nearly twenty centuries and is today ad- vancing in all parts of the earth. And Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers. And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. And they straightway left their nets, and fol- lowed him. And going on from thence, he saw other two brethren, James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, in a ship with Zebedee their father, mend- ing their nets; and he called them. And they immediately left the ship and their father, and followed him. The City of the Great King 73 Thus began through individual hearts the advance toward true civilization, toward the brotherhood of all men; for the most splendid League of Nations is the Church of Christ. It is interesting to observe that the qualification for membership in the original church lay not in an intellectual, but in a voluntary attitude, in the word “follow” and in the word “me.” We ought not today to make it more complicated or more difficult to enter the church than Jesus himself made it. This lovely sheet of ‘water has three Bible names: the Sea of Galilee, the Lake of Gennes- areth, and the Sea of Tiberias; the last name is used only in the Gospel of John. It is fresh, the river Jordan flowing through it toward the Dead Sea. It is about thirteen miles long and about six miles wide, and is surprisingly deep for so small a surface, over 150 feet. It is surrounded by gentle hills, and because of the fact that it is 681 feet below the Mediterranean, the intense heat of its basin causes a profusion of vegetation along its shores. Those who have seen it in the springtime say it is Paradise. 74 The City of the Great King There are allusions in the Gospel story to fish- ing in the Sea of Galilee; hence it is interesting to remember that this small lake today abounds in fish of many kinds, providing one of the chief occupations of the men who live near its banks, as is shown in the picture. There are certain varieties of fish here which are elsewhere found only in Central Africa—one peculiar fish which carries its young in its mouth, sometimes to the number of 200. A recent visitor, out in a small boat, asked the boatman to try his luck with a hand-net, and in one dip a dozen good fish were taken. In the eleventh chapter of Matthew, Jesus prophesied that the then prosperous city of Ca- pernaum, on the shore of the lake, would be brought down to hell: And thou, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell; for if the mighty works, which have been done i in thee, had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. But I say unto you, That it shall be more toler- able for the land of Sodom in the day of judgment than for thee. The City of the Great King 5 At present Capernaum is nothing but a few stones—an absolute desolation. The only town near the lake which has survived is Tiberias, and that looks more like a collection of tombs than a collection of houses. The chief beauty is the lake itself, a brilliant, charming blue in the sunshine, flat as a floor on a windless evening, but as treacherous as in the days of its glory. A traveler who set sail from the ruins of Capernaum to the opposite shore had an experience thrillingly reminiscent of the famous chapter in Mark, “when the even was come,” and Jesus calmed the boisterous waves. And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full.— Mark. _ As the sun set, the blow came in heavy puffs which sent our little craft well over to leeward and dipped the picturesque lateen sail in the water, while the spray covered the whole party.—W. D. McCracken, 1922. As Jesus began his ministry on the border of this sea, so the last word we have of him in the last chapter of the last Gospel is in the same lo- cality. It was after the Resurrection, when, ac- 76 The City of the Great King cording to John, “Jesus shewed himself again to the disciples at the sea of Tiberias.” The very first word he uttered was “Children, have ye any meatP” For your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. And after they had dined, looking out over the waters of the lake, Jesus put with terrible threefold inten- sity the question to Peter, “Lovest thou me?” And the very last reported utterance to the dis- ciples at the end of the four Gospels was a repe- tition of the first—“Follow thou me.” These humble fisher folk had what seems at first the inestimable advantage of seeing and talking with Jesus; but today the true disciple does not have to journey to Palestine to see the King in his beauty. The mystical poet, Francis Thompson, who used to walk the streets of Lon- don at midnight, maintained that with the eye of faith Jesus was as visible on the river Thames as on the Sea of Galilee. Yea, in the night, my Soul, my daughter, Cry, clinging heaven by the hems: And lo, Christ walking on the water, Not of Gennesareth, but Thames! The City of the Great King 77 And as the Divine Word subdued the angry waves, so can it even now calm the stormy pas- sions of the heart. In the words of Whittier, Faith has still its Olivet, And love its Galilee! Bs potter ts enormously i 1M-— portant in the tend Land, | as he always has been... . clay is the same, and it is to ay fashioned into exactly the same — forms that were current in ancient — times. Rae, 2 lee ene ns ene eine a Ps ; vans » 4 . ' 7 * . \ THE POT-SELLER OF BETHLEHEM a ETHLEHEM! To every one brought up in a Christian home the word is full of music, as though we heard today across the leagues of land and sea and across the gulf of centuries the singing of the angelic host. Bethlehem is a small town, but it dwarfs all the great cities of the world. Long before the Advent, the prophet Micah foretold its glory: But thou, Beth-lehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting. The word “Bethlehem” means “place of food,” and it was so called because it was a fer- tile spot in a barren land, symptomatic in its very soil of its supreme spiritual fruitfulness. It is first mentioned in Genesis 35 as Ephrath, 81 82 The City of the Great King whither Jacob and his wife Rachel were travel- ing; she gave birth to Benjamin, “And Rachel died, and was buried in the way to Ephrath, which is Beth-lehem.” It was called Bethlehem-Judah because there was another Bethlehem in the northern section of Palestine, mentioned in Joshua 19:15. The great King David was born in Bethle- hem-Judah, and for centuries thereafter the little town was called the City of David. In 325 A.D. a church was built there, which still stands, sup- posedly on the spot of the original manger. One leaves Jerusalem for Bethlehem by the Jaffa Gate, and instead of proceeding by foot or on the back of a camel, one rolls southward through beautiful country in an American auto- mobile. The distance between the towns is a little less than six miles, and on entering Bethle- hem one finds, instead of the noise and tumult of Jerusalem, a quaint and quiet village, with an atmosphere all its own. Even today it is unique. Bethlehem is almost entirely Christian. Look at the house in the left background of the pic- ture, and you will see a light bluish-tinted The City of the Great King 83 “whitewash” around its door and window. This is the sign that no Mohammedan lives there. In Palestine, from the time of Rachel’s death until 1926, the physical association with Bethle- hem in the minds of all travelers has been its wells. In the drought and steady heat of the summer days and nights, the wells of Bethlehem are the solace and strength of pilgrims. Mr. Cornwell writes, “A drink of water was my first and last thought.” The most famous allusion in history to the water of Bethlehem is when the Philistines had captured and garrisoned the little town. King David and his army were outside in the heat, and one day, when the King was terribly thirsty and was thinking out loud, remembering the pe- culiar sweetness and freshness of the water he knew, he soliloquized, “Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Beth-lehem, that is at the gate!” Then the three mighty men, his devoted and loyal captains, broke through the host of the Philistines, drew water from the well, and hacked their way back again, spilling much 84 The City of the Great King eee blood but no water. They brought the precious liquid in a vessel similar to one of these in the foreground of our picture, and, covered with streaming sweat and streaming wounds, they presented it to the great King. Then David did the most beautiful thing in his long life. He poured out the water on the ground, because he felt unworthy to drink water for which his fa- vorite officers had risked their lives. What a sur- prise this must have been to the three worthies, and how their amazement must have flamed into a renewed passion of devotion when they heard his words! The place of honor in the picture is rightly given to the pots and the potter. These make an irresistible appeal to any spectator who is famil- iar with the Bible or with oriental history. The potter 1s enormously important in the Holy Land, as he always has been. Every shape seen here is traditional. It comes down from a re- mote period of time and is as old as the art itself. The clay is the same, and it is today fashioned into exactly the same forms that were current in The City of the Great King 85 ancient times, as is clearly proved by comparing the modern pots offered for sale with the clay pots revealed by the excavations of the archeol- ogists. The potter has his wheel, which he turns by foot-power; he holds the wet clay with both hands, and the whirling wheel fashions it into the desired shape. In ancient times he did this with such artistry that even today scientists and artists are vainly seeking the secret possessed by the ancient potters of China. This was man’s first conquest, the subduing of natural elements into utensils of use and beauty. But it is not the mere thought of the antiquity of this art that is so stimulating; it is the meta- phorical use of it in the Bible and in modern poetry. The most famous passage in Scripture dealing with the potter is in that great eighteenth chapter of Jeremiah, where the prophet wrote: Then I went down to the potter’s house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels. And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again an- other vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it. 86 The City of the Great King Ne SSeS Then the word of the Lord came to me, saying, O house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter? saith the Lord. Behold, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are ye in mine hand, O house of Israel. Robert Browning, with a devout philosophy that matched that of the prophet, used the same figure in the same way, in his great poem, “Rabbi Ben Ezra.” God is the wise Potter; we are the clay in His hands; God holds us bound dizzily on the wheel of life, in order that He may shape us into something worthy of His presence. Browning wrote this poem soon after he had sustained the most bitter sorrow of his life, the death of the only woman he ever loved. But al- though he was shaken by grief, his faith was shaken not at all. As we look at the picture of the pot-seller of Bethlehem, the sublime words of Browning come into our minds. Ay, note that Potter’s wheel, That metaphor! and feel Why time spins fast, why passive lies our clay,— Thou, to whom fools propound, When the wine makes its round, “Since life fleets, all is change; the Past gone, seize today!” The City of the Great King 87 Fool! All that is, at all, Lasts ever, past recall; Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure: What entered into thee, That was, is, and shall be: Time’s wheel runs back or stops: Potter and clay endure... y Cy h a ey ae. n Palestine modern villages are” | scarce, hence such pictures as this CGHENS.. a mip we its Han, hous pes tes e live stock, we see assembled one roof. A HOUSE IN NAZARETH 3p)! se) interior of a Nazarene house ad ee exactly as it looks today. But it also is an accurate Bible illustra- ¥ tion, for the architecture, the fur- nishings, the household duties, and the family ‘life have changed very little in two thousand years. In Palestine modern villages are scarce, hence such pictures as this represent a social life which is at once ancient and contemporary. This family is independent and self-supporting ; all its wealth, both machinery and live stock, we see assembled under one roof. The ceiling is high, to allow for the circulation of air and the dispersion of smoke; the supports are huge arches; the distinction separating human beings from the animals is merely a higher level on the floor. The house is built of rough stone with walls thick as those of a fortress. Windows count for 9! 5, Za cone 92 The City of the Great King little, being small and high up. The interior consists of one large room, the walls unadorned even by whitewash. By day the door stands open, and when it is shut at night, it encloses not only the family, but sheep, goats, donkeys. On the lower level, literally the ground floor, these animals repose, and there are crude mangers made of stone or wood or earth. When Joseph and Mary could find no room at the inn at Beth- lehem, the hospitable family which received them had in all probability the dais already crowded with children and guests; so that the Divine Babe was placed in just such a manger. Filled with hay, it made a comfortable abode, and today it is customary to dispose of extra guests in this fashion. When the family retire for the night, they take down from recesses in the walls thin blankets or mattresses which need less space than the mod- ern folding-bed, for they can be rolled up into a compact bundle and easily carried anywhere. Thus the command, “Take up thy bed and walk,” is understandable. The most showy ar- ticle of furniture is the bridal chest, containing The City of the Great King 93 the trousseau brought to the new home. In the same spacious bed-sitting-room there are large earthen receptacles for the family supplies of grain, with lesser ones for flour. Other house- hold “crockery” consists of jars holding olives or oil or drinking-water, wooden bowls for bread, and shining copper vessels for cooking. The tall, rectangular, upright bins behind the sitting figure in the picture are filled with flour, while on the left, against the wall, those huge square bins, composed of clay and straw, store the season’s supply of grain, kept for the use of the family until the next harvest. The baskets hanging from the ceiling are filled with food. Mr. Cornwell tells how, when he was sketching this picture, one of the chil- dren cried out with hunger. Immediately the mother loosened a string, and down came the basket; she took from it some food for chewing, which quieted the child, and up went the basket again, out of reach of goats and donkeys. The family have two regular daily meals, but the chil- dren of Palestine, like other children, are often hungry, and the fathers and mothers in the East 94 The City of the Great King are so sensitively affectionate that they cannot endure the cry of hunger; hence they give the little ones food whenever it is demanded. There is a passage in the Bible about the chil- dren’s bread which illustrates not only the gen- erosity of parents, but the precise circumstances of domestic life revealed in this picture. This very room will serve as an illustration for Mat- thew 15:26, 27: It is not meet to take the children’s bread, and to cast it to dogs. And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table. This Bible passage shows at once the solici- tude of parents and the fact that the room had animals with the family, as in this picture. Again: privacy in sleeping-quarters has never been customary in Palestine. Remember the answer given to the friend who came at mid- night asking for three loaves of bread, Luke 11: 8, “My children are with me in bed; I can- not rise and give thee.” It was not his personal inconvenience that concerned him; he knew that The City of the Great King 95 if he got up, he would disturb the entire house- hold. In the picture the woman is grinding wheat into flour. She feeds the grain with her left hand between the two (literal) grindstones, while with her right hand she turns them. This is hard work, especially in hot weather, and, therefore, is often done just before dawn. She will finally take the lump of leaven, saved from the last batch, and mix the dough. Sometimes she will bake this in her own oven, but it is more amusing to employ the public one, where, await- ing her turn, she can gossip with her neighbors. A thousand times Jesus must have seen Mary bake bread. He often used figures of speech taken from this familiar occupation; for while Jesus’ teaching and the nature of his kingdom were not always understood by his audience, he invariably used figures of speech clear to all. The first process in bread-making was sifting; this was done by shaking the grain into a pan, so that the kernels went to one side and the waste to the other, where it could be tossed out with- 96 The City of the Great King out ceasing to sift. This manipulation required dexterity and took considerable practice, but it was thorough, and Jesus remembered it when he said to Peter, “Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat.” The ovens are of clay, being a kind of pit with a circular top, beside which a fire of grass, or twigs, or refuse is placed. In the Bible, grass refers to any kind of weed or flower of the field, and Jesus had in mind perhaps his mother’s cooking when he said, “The grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven.” What will this family do after the day is spent and night has fallen? They will take out from the wall the roll-beds, spread them on the floor, and without removing their clothes, the family and their guests will lie down with their feet toward the fire on the hearth. As they hate soli- tude, so they have a horror of darkness. The light will be kept burning all night, for the wife has seen that the lamp is well filled with oil. In that eloquent description of the virtuous woman in Proverbs, we are told that “her candle goeth The City of the Great King 97 not out by night.” The word “candle” was the King James word, and it means simply illumina- tion, for they used oil lamps in Palestine. Every one instantly understood the speaker when he said, “Nor is a lamp lighted to be put under a bushel, but on the lampstand; and then it gives light to all in the house.” (Matthew 5:15, Wey- mouth’s translation.) Asa child, I used to won- der how a single candle could give light to all in the house, for how could it illuminate more than one room? But in this picture we see that the whole house was one room. Cus, On ee ‘Saul : fis aie i 1 terrupted by the eng " (ULSL s THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS N THE accompanying picture, a tumultuous scene of crowded confusion, the brush of the painter becomes a magic, hyp- notic wand, arresting and pre- serving for one perpetual instant the march of the camels, the gestures of the merchants, the hand with the uplifted Damascus sword. So thick with vital activity is the scene that it takes but little imagination for us to hear as well as to see; we hear the noisy jostling of the advanc- ing throng, the shouts and cheers of the pilgrims as the minarets of the city burst into view be- tween the black cedars. For this is the pageant of a famous priest returning from some distant part of Turkey. One is reminded of the lines in Browning’s “Paracelsus”: I amawanderer: I remember well One journey, how I feared the track was missed, So long the city I desired to reach IOI 102 The City of the Great King Lay hid; when suddenly its spires afar Flashed through the circling clouds. Mr. Cornwell painted this picture in the late twilight. The receptive festivities had started early in the morning. Children were adorned with flowers and gay cloths; banners were held aloft, flags fluttered in the breeze, “the air broke into a mist with bells,” and finally the priest drew near the city gates, assured of a triumphant entrance. The sacred camels seem conscious of their decorations; they wear blankets of silk, huge tassels, shells and beads and pearls. Their riders swing the ancient weapons made of the famous Damascus steel. In the rear are whirling der- vishes, while rose petals and perfumes are show- ered upon them by the admiring throng. Enor- mous scarlet flags carrying Arabic inscriptions in letters of gold sway in time to the ancient chants of the pilgrims, emphasized by the beats of an equally ancient drum. Above the con- fused murmur of the crowd and of the monot- onous song is heard the crash of cymbals. The City of the Great King 103 No women are to be seen; in those days they did not count. But little boys are much in evi- dence; they are arrayed in bright-colored robes and turbans, and they proudly carry guns and scimitars. It has been well said that Damascus, and not Rome, should be called the Eternal City. It is the oldest city in the world with a continuous history. It is mentioned in the fourteenth chap- ter of Genesis, and plays an important role both in the Old and in the New Testament. Perhaps no city anywhere presents a more thrilling sight when seen from afar. It is ona triangular plain, and the Arabs regarded that plateau as the most beautiful of the four Earthly Paradises. When one is still distant, an immense number of cupolas, domes, and minarets leap into the air, surrounding the vast mass of the central mosque. There are over 250 mosques in Damascus, many of them adorned with ex- quisite minarets; the oval shape of the city 1s surrounded by a massive wall, intersected with splendid towers and gateways, swelling at one part into a huge fortress. 104 The City of the Great King The road from the Mediterranean city of Beirut runs eastward about fifty miles to Da- mascus; clear streams are on both sides of the way, and along the banks are the famous cedars of Lebanon. The beautiful rivers, Abana and Pharpar, so dear to the homesick Naaman as he looked on the squalid stream of Jordan, are two of the numerous graces of Damascus; but they have often been stained with blood, for the city has been the scene of many wars. It was captured by King David, taken back by the Syrians, re- taken by Jeroboam, captured again by the King of Assyria; it remained in the control of the Assyrians and Persians until the all-conquering armies of Alexander appeared when it shared a common fate. Of course the Romans got it later, and they called one of its streets Straight, a descriptive name that distinguishes it instantly from the curving, twisting roadways character- istic of Damascus and all Oriental cities. Today it is once more in the midst of war, for the French have found, as so many palefaces have discovered before them, that the Druses can fight. The City of the Great King 105 As we see in the accompanying picture not only another demonstration of the eternal love of the Parade so characteristic of all peoples, but in particular the triumphant return of a great priest to his city, our minds go out in- stinctively to another man, who, nineteen hun- dred years ago, drew near this same city, not knowing that he was to see a spectacle more dazzling than cloud-capped towers and gor- geous palaces. He came, like this Eastern priest, in pride, but he entered in humility. Saul of Tarsus, known to the Romans as Paul, was a proud and scholarly Jewish official, born and bred a Pharisee. When he heard the dis- ciples of the Nazarene preaching, he was shocked at their proclaiming, as Messiah, One who had been condemned and crucified by de- fenders of the Jewish Law to which he was so intensely loyal. He heard the gentle Stephen, “saw his face as it had been the face of an an- gel,” and Paul’s heart, between fidelity to the traditions of his race and the power and beauty of the new teachings, was stirred to terrible con- flict. In order to quiet this clamor in his own 106 The City of the Great King soul, he began to persecute the Christians. He stood by approvingly when Stephen was stoned. He cast men and women into prison. He heard that the Christians were converting many in Damascus, and he procured official orders to drive them out of that city. | And it came to pass, that, as I made my journey, and was come nigh unto Damascus about noon, suddenly there shone from heaven a great light round about me. And I fell unto the ground, and heard a voice saying unto me, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? And I answered, Who art thou, Lord? And he said unto me, I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom thou persecutest. And they that were with me saw indeed the light, and were afraid; but they heard not the voice of him that spake to me. And I said, What shall I do, Lord? . And the Lord said unto me, Arise, and go into Damascus; and there it shall be told thee of all things which are appointed for thee to do. And when I could not see for the glory of that light, being led by the hand of them that were with me, I came into Damascus. So far as we know, during his life on earth Jesus never visited the city of Damascus; but in the heart of a blind man he entered through the The City of the Great King 107 walls of the ancient town, and when this man opened his eyes again, they were illumined by the Light of the World. This man had been transformed by a heavenly vision, and in the memory of that light he was to walk until he should again and forever behold the King in his beauty. pe Et of the oly Sepulchre 6 eG Church of the Holy Sep- — ulchre as it now stands in Jerusalem to mark the sight of that — rock-hewn tomb in which Joseph of Arimathea placed the body of Jesus after the Crucifixion. me THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE = HE artist has sketched for us the nt / present appearance of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre ) at Jerusalem. Directly across 4 the street from this amorphous structure is a hotel; Mr. Cornwell’s rooms faced the church front, so that we in regarding this picture are seeing what the artist saw from his lodgings every day. In Palestine, when a building is erected, it does not occur to anyone to take away ruins and rubbish that may surround it. As the tree falls, so shall it lie. Thus new and old touch elbows; everywhere in Palestine the incon- gruous is the normal. The main portion of this church is almost a part of the ruins that hedge it in. At the extreme upper left, you see an arch that has broken down, like the bridge at II! 112 The City of the Great King Avignon. It was not left, however, for any romantic or sentimental reason, but simply be- cause the builders did not take the trouble to remove it, and no one else seems to have felt the necessity of doing so. Such is the prevailing custom in that untidy land. The space in front of the church is as ani- mated as the Piazza of St. Mark’s in Venice. Mr. Cornwell says that the scene he has repro- duced is typical; every day that he was in Jerusalem it looked just about like this. Reli- gious processions, social gatherings, sordid bar- ter, general gossip all find a place here; in the left foreground one sees a group of dark figures. They are priests of some order, who assemble here daily; todo what? To gamble. Surprised by this spectacle, the artist inquired of a by- stander, and he was informed that the priests spent their whole time here rolling dice. This would perhaps seem more shocking if it did not take us back in history to the greatest of all dramas, here enacted, where the indifferent soldiers gambled for the garments of the King. The City of the Great King 113 My masters, there’s an old book you should con, For strange adventures, applicable yet, It is stuffed with. Do you know that there was once This thing: a multitude of worthy folk Took recreation, watched a certain group Of soldiery intent upon a game— How first they wrangled, but soon fell to play, Threw dice—the best diversion in the world. A word in your ear—they are now casting lots. It would be interesting if we were certain of the exact place of the Tomb—the Tomb that marked the burial and new birth not only of the Son of Man, but the burial of the old Law and the dawn of the Life of Love. The early disciples were naturally and properly more interested in the living Lord and in his teaching than they were in the dark place where his body slept; the Kingdom of God was in their hearts, not in any commemorative building or stone memorial. It was not until the reign of Con- stantine, three hundred years later, that a search was made for the place of burial, and on tra- ditional and speculative evidence, Calvary and 114 The City of the Great King the tomb were identified. Constantine then built a memorial church. It has been the scene of warfare, pillage, destruction, and renovation. The Moslems tore down the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, but it was rebuilt, burned, rebuilt again, reconstructed and enlarged so many times and in so many different periods that it is today an architectural jumble. Much of it dates only from 1808, but the Romanesque front has an antique air. Neither exterior nor interior is dignified. Inside it is, like so many people who live near it, both gaudy and dirty. Yet in spite of the cheapness of the architecture and decoration, in spite of the noisy and profane crowds that jostle before it, many pilgrims come hither with sincere reverence. A small crypt, illumined with lamps, where one must literally bow the head to enter, is the traditional place of the Tomb. And there a stone slab is worn smooth by the kisses of millions. Tall candles, lamps of precious metals, which are forever alight, are added to by the flicker- ing tapers brought by pilgrims; and in the The City of the Great King 115 richly adorned chapels, where every event in the final tragedy is pictorially illustrated, kneel in silent adoration devout worshipers. Thus the outside of the church and the sacred spot within unconsciously symbolize the eternal contrast between the confused world of selfish ambition and the secret life of the spirit. No one can gaze on this picture without hav- ing his thoughts turn back to that spring morn- ing twenty centuries ago, when the soldiers, and the priests, and the weeping women, and the curious mob followed the Divine Sufferer from the city walls to the tiny mound of Calvary. The word Calvary occurs only once in the Bible, St. Luke 23: 33. The expression “Mount Cal- vary” has no historic basis, for the elevation is only eighteen feet high. It was round in shape like a skull, hence was called Golgotha, the He- brew for skull, and that is the name used by St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. John. The Latin Vulgate translation of the Greek word for skull —Kranion—was Calvaria, meaning a bald or bare skull. Our translators adopted the word Calvaria and in St. Luke’s gospel they called it 116 The City of the Great King Calvary. For St. Luke is the only one of the four evangelists who uses only the Greek word, and does not mention the Hebrew Golgotha. On this small, skull-like eminence, fitly named —for this was the regular place of the execution of criminals—the terrible procession halted in the spring sunshine, and the Cross with its divine burden was elevated. Even as the cross stood on the top of the mound, so today in commem- oration it stands on the top of the round dome of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and on that of thousands of other churches and cathe- drals all over the round earth. The Ball and the Cross—the globe of the world dominated by the sign of the only One who ever overcame it. His executioners were angry that he should be called the King of the Jews, and as he hung between the two thieves, he seemed to the cynical and jeering throng a futile mockery of a real King. But on the radiant Sunday morning when he left the tomb, it appeared that he was not only the King of the Jews, but the King of Life and Death—King of kings and Lord of lords. Aa batts : 1% aah ane tye ‘ "arse oo ay &