V •'■'I ‘ J'*» .... ! ■ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https://archive.org/details/lifeofchristOOpapi_0 LIFE OF CHRIST by / GIOVANNI PAPINI Freely translated from the Italian by DOROTHY CANFIELD FISHER NEW YORK HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC, PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY THE QUINN a BODEN COMPANY RAHWAY, N, J. TRANSLATOR’S NOTE The King James English version has been followed in the Bible quotations of this translation, except in a few cases where an altera¬ tion in the Revised Version was evidently the result of a better understanding of the original Greek or Hebrew text. For the form of proper names, the spelling of the Century Dic¬ tionary has been used as a rule; for names not given in the Century, the form current in the usual standard works. Since this book is intended to be popular rather than either scholarly or archsological, it was thought best to use the name-forms best known to most readers. It will be noted that a number of the quotations are mosaics made up of phrases taken from different parts of the Bible and put to¬ gether to make one passage. This not being the English usage in such matters, it seems desirable to call the reader’s attention to the character of such quotations. The only other explanation which may be necessary is in connec¬ tion with the omission of occasional sentences, paragraphs and of one or two chapters. In the case of individual sentences or phrases, they were usually omitted because they contained an allusion sure to be obscure to non-Italian readers. A characteristic example of such omissions is in the scene of the crucifixion where Christ is described as being nailed to the cross with outstretched arms like an owl nailed with outstretched wings to a barn-door. This revolt¬ ing country-side custom being unknown to American readers, a refer¬ ence to it could only cloud the passage. Since translators into English who omit passages are usually accused of suppressing valuable material which might displease too- narrow Anglo-Saxon readers, it is perhaps as well to explain that the excision of paragraphs here and there, and of a few chapters, is in no sense an expurgation, because this Lije of Christ is very much of the same quality throughout. It simply seemed to me that such occasional lightening of the text would make it more acceptable to English-speaking readers, so much less tolerant of long descrip¬ tions and minute discussions than Italians. TRANSLATOR’S NOTE I quite realize that this may seem a slight and arbitrary basis for making actual excisions in an author’s work, and I understand that the translator is not at all responsible for the matter which he translates, but only for the truthfulness with which he presents the text given him to set into another language. I was moved first by the fact that the passages omitted are of no more importance than any other passages in the book; and secondly by the author’s wish expressly stated in his Introduction, to have this a readable book which will hold those who pick it up, rather than to have it a book of exact learning or great literature. This translation was made with the purpose of allowing the general American reading-public to form an opinion on a book which has aroused a great deal of dis¬ cussion in modern Italy; and to carry out this purpose, the occa¬ sional omissions mentioned and a certain freedom in the rendering of the Italian seemed to me justifiable. Dorothy Canfield Fisher. LIFE O'F CHRIST INTRODUCTION I For five hundred years those who call themselves free spirits because they prefer prison life to army service have been try¬ ing desperately to kill Jesus a second time — to kill Him in the hearts of men. The army of His enemies assembled to bury Him as soon as they thought they heard the death-rattle of Christ’s second death. Presumptuous donkeys mistaking libraries for their stables, top-heavy brains pretending to explore the highest heavens in philosophy’s drifting balloon, professors poisoned by the fatal strong drink of philology and metaphysics, armed themselves. Paraphrasing the rallying-cry of Peter the Her¬ mit to the crusaders, they shouted ‘‘Man wills it!” as they set out on their crusade against the Cross. Certain of them drew on their boundless imaginations to evolve what they considered proof positive of a fantastic theory that the story of the Gospel is no more than a legend from which we can reconstruct the natural life of Jesus as a man, one-third prophet, one-third necromancer, one-third demagogue, a man who wrought no miracles except the hypnotic cure of some obsessed devotees, who did not die on the cross, but came to Himself in the chill of the sepulcher and reappeared with mysterious airs to de¬ lude men into believing that He had risen from the dead. Others demonstrated as certainly as two and two make four that Jesus was a myth developed in the time of Augustus and of Tiberius, and that all the Gospels can be reduced to a clumsy mosaic of prophetic texts. Others conceived of Jesus as a good, well-meaning man, but too high-flown and fantastic, who went to school to the Greeks, the Buddhists, and the Essenes and patched together His plagiarisms as best He could 3 4 INTRODUCTION to support His claim to be the Messiah of Israel. Others made Him out to be an unbalanced humanitarian, precursor of Rousseau and of divine democracy; an excellent man for his time but who to-day would be put under the care of an alien¬ ist. Others to get rid of the subject once for all took up the idea of the myth again, and by dint of puzzlings and compari¬ sons concluded that Jesus never was born anywhere in any spot on the globe. But who could have taken the place of the man they were trying to dispose of? The grave they dug was deeper every day, and still they could not bury Him from sight. Then began the manufacture of religions for the irreligious. During the whole of the nineteenth century they were turned out in couples and half dozens at a time: the religion of Truth, of the Spirit, of the Proletariat, of the Hero, of Humanity, of Nationalism, of Imperialism, of Reason, of Beauty, of Peace, of Sorrow, of Pity, of the Ego, of the Future and so on. Some were only new arrangements of Christianity, uncrowned, spine¬ less Christianity, Christianity without God; most of them were political, or philosophic, trying to make themselves out mystics. But faithful followers of these religions were few and their ardor faint. Such frozen abstractions, although sometimes helped along by social interest or literary passions, did not fill the hearts which had renounced Jesus. Then attempts were made to throw together facsimiles of religion which would make a better job of offering what men looked for in religion. Free-Masons, Spiritualists, Theoso- phists. Occultists, Scientists, professed to have found the in¬ fallible substitute for Christianity. But such mixtures of moldy superstition and worm-eaten necromancy, such a hash of musty rationalism and science gone bad, of simian sym¬ bolism and humanitarianism turned sour, such unskillful rear¬ rangements of Buddhism, manufactured-for-export, and of be¬ trayed Christianity, contented some thousands of leisure-class women, of condensers of the void . . . and went no further. In the meantime, partly in a German parsonage and partly in a professor’s chair in Switzerland, the last Anti-Christ was making ready. “Jesus,” he said, coming down from the Alps INTRODUCTION 5 in the sunshine, mortified mankind; sin is beautiful, violence is beautiful. Everything that says ‘yes’ to Life is beautiful.” And Zarathushtra, after having thrown into the Mediterranean the Greek texts of Leipzig and the works of Machiavelli, began to gambol at the feet of the statue of Dionysius with the grace that might be expected of a German, born of a Lutheran minister, who had just stepped down from a chair in a Swiss University. But, although his songs were sweet to the ear, he never succeeded in explaining exactly what he meant when he spoke of this adorable “Life” to which men should sacrifice such a living pa,rt of themselves as their need to repress their own animal instincts: nor could he ever say in what way Christ, the true Christ of the Gospels, opposed Him¬ self to life. He who wanted to make life higher and happy. And the poor S5^hilitic Anti-Christ, when insanity was close upon him, signed his last letter, “The Crucified One.” 2 And still Christ is not yet expelled from the earth either by the ravages of time or by the efforts of men. His memory is everywhere: on the walls of the churches and the schools, on the tops of bell-towers and of mountains, in street-shrines, at the heads of beds and over tombs, thousands of crosses bring to mind the death of the Crucified One. Take away the fres¬ coes from the churches, carry off the pictures from the altars and from the houses, and the life of Christ fills museums and picture-galleries. Throw away breviaries and missals, and you find His name and His words in all the books of literature. Even oaths are an involuntary remembrance of His presence. When all is said and done, Christ is an end and a beginning, an abyss of divine mystery between two divisions of human history* Paganism and Christianity can never be welded to¬ gether. Before Christ and After Christ! Our era, our civiliza¬ tion, our life, begins with the birth of Christ. We can seek out what comes before Christ, we can acquire information about it, but it is no longer ours, it is signed with other signs, limited by other systems, no longer moves our passions; it may 6 INTRODUCTION be beautiful, but it is dead. Caesar was more talked about in his time than Jesus, and Plato taught more science than Christ. People still discuss the Roman ruler and the Greek philosopher, but who nowadays is hotly for Caesar or against him; and where now are the Platonists and the anti-Platonists? Christ, on the contrary, is still living among us. There are still people who love Him and who hate Him. There is a passion for the love of Christ and a passion for His destruction. The fury of so many against Him is a proof that He is not dead. The very people who devote themselves to denying His ideas and His existence pass their lives in bringing His name to memory. We live in the Christian era, and it is not yet finished. If we are to understand the world, our life, ourselves, we must refer to Christ. Every age must re-write its own Gospel. More than any other, our own age has so re-written its own Gospel, and therefore the author ought perhaps to justify him¬ self for having written this book. But the justification, if there is need of such, will be plain to those who read it. There never was a time more cut off from Christ than ours, nor one which needed Him more. But to find Him, the old books are not enough. No life of Christ, even if it were writ¬ ten by an author of greater genius than any who has ever lived, could be more beautiful and perfect than the Gospels. The candid sobriety of the first four stories can never be im¬ proved upon by any miracle of style and poetry. And we can add very little to the information they give us. But who reads the Gospels nowadays? And who could read them, even if he set himself at it. Glosses of philologists, comments of the exegetical experts, varying readings of erudite marginal editors, emendations of letters, such things can pro¬ vide entertainment for patient brains. But the heart needs something more than this. Every generation has its preoccupations and its thoughts, and its own insanities. The old Gospels must be re-translated for the help of the lost. If Christ is to remain alive in the life of men, eternally present with us, it is absolutely necessary to resuscitate Him from time to time; not to color Him with the INTRODUCTION 7 dyes of the present day, but to represent with new words, with references to things now happening. His eternal truth and His never-changing story. The world is full of such bookish resuscitations of Christ, learned or literary: but it seems to the author of this one that many are forgotten, and others are not suitable. To write the history of the stories of Christ would take another book and one even longer than this one. But it is easy to divide into two great divisions those which are best known and most read: (i) Those written by orthodox authors for the use of the orthodox; (2) and those written by scientists for the use of non-believers. Neither the first nor the second can satisfy those who are seeking in such lives for Life. 3 The lives of Jesus written for pious readers exhale, almost all of them, a sort of withered mustiness, the very first page of which repels readers used to more delicate and substantial fare. There is an odor of burnt-out lamp-wick, a smell of stale in¬ cense and of rancid oil that sticks in the throat. You cannot draw a long, free breath. The reader acquainted with the biog¬ raphies of great men written with greatness, and possessing some notions of his own about the art of writing and of poetry, who incautiously picks up one of these pious books, feels his heart fail him as he advances into this flabby prose, torpid, tangled, patched up with commonplaces that were alive a thou¬ sand years ago, but which are now dead and petrified. It is even worse when these worn-out old hacks try to break into the lyric gallop or the trot of eloquence. Their faded graces, their ornamentations of countrified purisms, of ^‘fine writing” fit for provincial academies, their artificial warmth cooled down to tepidity by unctuous dignity, discourage the endur¬ ance of the boldest reader. And when they are not engulfed in the thorny mysteries of scholasticism, they fall into the roaring eloquence of the Sunday sermon. In short, these are books written for readers who believe in Jesus, that is, for those who could, in a way, get along without them. But 8 INTRODUCTION ordinary people, indifferent people, irreverent people, artists, those accustomed to the greatness of Antiquity and to the nov¬ elty of Modernity, never look at even the best of such volumes; or if they pick them up, let them fall at once. And yet these are the very people whom such a book should win because they are those whom Christ has lost, they are those who to¬ day form public opinion and count in the world. Another sort of books, those written by the learned men for the neutrals, succeed even less in turning towards Christ the souls that have not learned the way to Christianity. In the first place they almost never have any intention of doing this, and in the second place they themselves, almost all of them, are among those who ought to be brought back to the true and living Christ. Furthermore, their method which is, as they say, historical, scientific, critical, leads them to pause over texts and external facts, to establish them or to eliminate them, rather than to consider the meaning and the value and the light which, if they would, they could find in those texts and those facts. Most of them try to find the man in the God, the actual external facts of the miracles, the legend in the tradi¬ tion and, above all, they are on the look-out for interpolations, for falsifications and apocrypha in the first part of Christian literature. Those who do not go so far as to deny that Jesus ever lived, take away from the testimony about Him every¬ thing they can, and by dint of “ifs’’ and ‘‘buts” and doubts and hypotheses, so far from writing any definite story them¬ selves, succeed in spoiling the story contained in the Gospels. In short, such historians with all their confusion of fret-work and bunglings, with all the resources of textual criticism, of mythology, of paleography, of archeology, of Greek and Hebrew philology, only triturate and liquefy the simple life of Christ. The most logical conclusion to draw from their ram¬ bling incoherent talk is that Jesus never did appear on the earth, or if by chance He really did appear, that we know nothing certain about His life. Christianity still exists, of course, in spite of such conclusions, and Christianity is a fact not easily disregarded. To offset this fact the best these ene¬ mies of Christ can do is to search through the Orient and Oc- INTRODUCTION 9 cident for the origins, as they say, of Christianity, their inten¬ tion being quite openly to parcel it out among its prede¬ cessors, Jewish, Greek, for that matter Hindu and Chinese, as if to say: “You see, your Jesus at bottom was not only a man, but a poor specimen of a man, since he said nothing that the human race did not know by heart before his day.’’ One might ask these deniers of miracles how they explain the miracle of a syncretism of old traditions which has grown about the memory of an obscure plagiarist, an immense move¬ ment of men, of thoughts, of institutions, so strong, over¬ whelmingly strong, as to change the face of the earth for cen¬ turies. But this question, and many others, we will not put to them, at least for the present. In short, when in looking for light we pass from the bad taste of the devotional compilers to the writers who monopolize “historic truth” we fall from pietistic boredom into sterile con¬ fusion. The pious writers are unable to lead men to Christ, and the “historians” lose Him in controversy. And neither one nor the other tempt men to read. They may differ from each other in matters of faith, but they resemble each other in the uncouthness of their style. And unctuous rhetoric is as distaste¬ ful to cultivated minds, even superficially acquainted with the divine idyll and divine tragedy of the Gospels, as is the cold¬ heartedness of learned writers. So true is all this that even to¬ day, after the passage of so many years, after so many changes of taste and opinion, the only life of Jesus which is read by many lay readers is that of the apostate priest, Renan, a book which all true Christians dislike for its dilettante attitude, in¬ sulting even in praise, and which every real historian distrusts because of its compromises and its insufficient scholarship. But although this book of Renan’s seems written by a skep¬ tical romancer, wedded to philology, or by a Semitic scholar suffering from literary nostalgia, it has the merits of being really “written,” that is, of getting itself read, even by those who are neither believers nor specialists. To make itself readily read is not the only value nor the greatest which a book can have, and the writer who contents himself with that alone and who thinks of nothing else shows IO INTRODUCTION that vanity rather than ardor is his motive-power. But let us admit that to be readable is a merit and not a small merit for a book^ especially when it is not intended as a tool for study, but when it aims at the mark called, “moving the emotions,’’ or to give it its real name, when its aim is to “transform human beings.” The author of the present boot finds — and if he is mistaken he will be very glad to be convinced by any one who sees more clearly than he — that in the thousands of books which tell the story of Jesus, there is not one which seeks, instead of dog¬ matic proofs and learned discussions, to give food fit for the soul, for the needs of men of our time. The book we need is a living book, to make Christ more liv¬ ing, to set Christ the Ever-Living with loving vividness before the eyes of living men, to m^ake us feel Him as actually and eternally present in our lives. We need a book which would show Him in all His living and present greatness — perennial and yet belonging intimately to us moderns — to those who have scorned and refused Him, to those who do not love Him be¬ cause they have never seen His true face; which would show how much there is of supernatural and symbolic in the human, obscure, simple and humble beginning of His life, and how much familiar humanity, how much simple-hearted plainness shines out when He becomes a Heavenly Deliverer at the end of His life, when He becomes a martyr and rises again divinely from the dead. We need a book which would show in that tragic epic, written by both Heaven and earth, the many teach¬ ings suited to us, suited to our time and to our life, which can be found there, not only in what Christ said, but in the very succession of events which begin in the stable at Bethlehem and end in the cloud over Bethany. A book written by a lay¬ man for the laymen who are not Christians or who are only superficially Christians, a book without the affectations of pro¬ fessional piety and without the insipidity of scientific litera¬ ture, called “scientific” only because it perpetually fears to make the slightest affirmation. A book, in short, written by a modern writer who respects and understands his art, and knows how to hold the attention even of the hostile. INTRODUCTION II 4 The author of this book does not pretend to have written such a book; but at least he has tried as far as his capacities can take him, to draw near to that ideal. Let him state at once with sincere humility that he has not written a “scientific history.’’ In the first place because he could not; in any case because he would not, even if he had possessed all the necessary learning. He warns the reader, among other things, that this book was written (almost all of it) in the country, in a distant and sparsely settled country¬ side with very few books at hand, with no advice from friends or revision from masters. It will, therefore, never be cited by higher criticism or by those who scrutinize original sources with a microscope; but that is of little importance compared to the possibility of its doing a little good to a few souls, even to one alone. For as he has explained, the author wishes this book to be another coming of Christ and not another burial. The author bases his book on the Gospels ; as much, let it be understood, on the synoptic Gospels as on the fourth. He confesses that he has no interest in the endless dissertations and disputes over the authority of the four Gospels, over their dates and interpolations, over their mutual relationship, and over their probabilities and sources. We have no older nor no other documents, contemporaneous, Jewish or Pagan, which would permit us to correct them or to deny them. He who goes into all this minute investigation can destroy many doc¬ trines, but he cannot advance the true knowledge of Christ by a single step. Christ is in the Gospels, in the apostolic tradi¬ tion, and in the Church. Outside of that is darkness and si¬ lence. He who accepts the four Gospels must accept them wholly, entire, syllable by syllable, — or else reject them from the first to the last and say, “We know nothing.” To attempt in these texts to differentiate what is sure from what is prob¬ able, what is historic from what is legendary, what is original from what has been added, the primitive from the dogmatic is a hopeless undertaking, which almost always ends in de¬ feat, in the despair of the readers, who in the midst of this 12 INTRODUCTION hubbub of contradictory systems, changing from one decade to another, end by understanding nothing and by letting it all drop. The most famous New Testament authorities agree on only one thing, that the Church was able to select in the great mass of primitive literature the oldest Gospels thought up to that time to be the most reliable. No more need be asked. In addition to the Gospels, the author of this book has had before his eyes “the Logia and the Agrapha,’^ which seemed to have the most evangelical flavor, and also some apocryphal texts used with judgment. And finally nine or ten modern books which he had at hand. It seems to him as well as he can judge, that he has departed sometimes from ordinary ideas and that he has painted a Christ who has not always the perfunctory features of the ordinary holy picture, but he is not sure of this nor does he value any new thing which may be in this book, written more in the hope of having it a good book than of having it a beau¬ tiful book. It is rather more likely that he has repeated things already said by others, of which he in his ignorance has never heard. In these matters, the subject, which is truth, is un¬ changeable and there can be nothing new except the manner of presenting it in a form more efficacious because it may be more easily grasped. Just as he has tried to avoid the thorns of erudite criticism on the one hand, he has no pretensions, on the other, of going too deeply into the mysteries of theology. He has approached Jesus with the simple-heartedness of longing and of love, just as during His life-time He was approached by the fishermen of Capernaum, who were, fortunately for them, even more igno¬ rant than the author. Holding loyally to the words of the orthodox Gospels and to the dogmas of the Catholic Church, he has tried to represent those dogmas and those words in un¬ usual ways, in a style violent with contrasts and with fore- ^ shortening, colored with crude and vividly felt words, to see if j he could startle modern souls used to highly colored error, into | seeing the truth. The author claims the right to take to himself the words of 1 INTRODUCTION 13 St. Paul: “To them that are without law, I became as without law that I might gain them that are without law. To the weak became I as weak that I might gain the weak; I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save some. And this I do for the GospeFs sake.” The author has tried to present not only the Hebrew world, but the world of antiquity, hoping to show how new and how great Christ was compared to those who preceded Him. He has not always followed the chronological order of events, be¬ cause it better suited his aims, which are not (as he has said) entirely historical, to gather togéther certain groups of thoughts and facts and to throw a stronger light on them instead of leaving them to be scattered here and there in the course of the narrative. In order not to give a pedantic look to the book he has sup¬ pressed all references to quotations and has used no foot-notes. He did not wish to seem what he is not, a learned bibliographer, and he did not wish to have his work smell, however faintly, of the oil of the lamp of erudition. Those who understand these things will recognize the un-named authorities, and the solu¬ tions which the author has chosen when confronted with cer¬ tain problems of concordance. The others, those who are only trying to see how Christ appeared to one of them, would be wearied by the apparatus of textual learning and by disserta¬ tions at the bottom of the pages. One word only must be said here in connection with the sinning woman weeping at Jesus’ feet: although it is generally understood from the Gospel story that there were two different scenes and two different women, the author for artistic purposes has allowed himself to treat them as one, and he asks a pardon for this which he hopes will be easily granted since there is no question of dogma involved. He must warn the reader that he refrained from developing the episodes where the Virgin Mother appears, in order not to lengthen too greatly a book already long, and especially be¬ cause of the difficulty of showing by passing allusions all the rich wealth of religious beauty which is in the figijre of Mary. Another volume would be necessary for that, and the writer is J4 INTRODUCTION tempted to try if God grants him life and sight to ^‘say of her what was never said of any woman/^ Those who are experienced in reading the Gospels will realize that other things of lesser importance have been shortened and some others, on the contrary, lengthened more than is custom¬ ary. Some have seemed to the writer more appropriate than the others for his purpose, which is, to use an expression now out of date and distasteful to sophisticated people, the purpose of edification. 5 This book is meant to be a book — the author knows how he will be jeered at — of edification. Not in the meaning of me¬ chanical bigotry, but in the human and manly meaning of the ^^refashioning’^ of souls. To build, or as the old word expressed it, to edify a house, is a great and holy action ; to make a shelter against winter and the night. But to build up or edify a soul, to construct it with stones of truth ! When there is talk of edification you see in it only an abstract word worn out with use. To edify in the original meaning was to construct walls. Who of you has ever thought of all that goes into the making of a house, a house firm on the earth, and honestly built, with well-plumbed walls, with a good sheltering roof? Think of all that is needed to build a house: well-squared stones, well-baked bricks, sound beams, freshly-burned lime, fine, clean sand, cement that has not lost its strength through age! And then patient, expert workmen to put each thing in its place, to join the stones per¬ fectly one by one, not to put too much water or too much sand in the mortar, to keep the walls damp, to know how to fill in the chinks, to smooth the rough-cast plaster! All this so that a house may go up day by day towards heaven, a man’s house, the house where he will bring his wife, the house where his children will be born, where he can invite his friends. But most people think that to make a book it is enough to have an idea and then to take so many words and put them together. Not so. A kiln of tiles, a pile of rocks, are not a INTRODUCTION 15 house. To build up a house, to build up a book, to build up a soul, are undertakings which require all of a man’s power. The aim of this book is to build up Christian souls because that seems to the writer at this time in this country an urgent need. He who has written it cannot now say whether he will succeed or not. But readers will recognize, he hopes, that it is a real book and not a collection of scraps, not an assemblage of little pieces, a book that may be mediocre and mistaken, but which is constructed: a work built up as well as edifying or building up; a book with its own plan a,jid its own architecture, a real house with its atrium and its architraves, with its divisions and its vaultings — and also with some openings towards heaven and over the fields. The author of this book is, or would fain be, an artist, and in writing it he could not forget his own character. But he de¬ clares here that he has not wished to create a work of Belles Lettres, or as they say now, of ‘^pure poetry,” because at least for this time truth is dearer to him than beauty. But if his powers as a writer, however feeble they may be, as a writer loving his art, are sufficient to persuade one more soul, he will be more thankful than ever in his life for the gifts which he has received. His inclination towards poetry has perhaps been of use to him in rendering fresher and more vivid the picture of those things which seem petrified in the usual hieratic conse¬ crated wording. The man of imagination sees everything as though it were new: every great star, wheeling in the night, might lead you to the house hiding the Son of God; every stable has a manger which, filled with dry hay and clean straw, might become a cradle; every bare mountain top flaming with light in the golden mornings above the still somber valley, might be Sinai or Mt. Tabor: in the fires in the stubble, or in the charcoal kilns shin¬ ing on the evening hills you can see the flame lighted by God to guide you in the desert; and the column of smoke rising from the poor man’s hearth shows the road from afar to the return¬ ing laborer. The ass who carries the shepherdess just come from her milking is the one ridden towards the tents of Israel, or the one which went down towards Jerusalem for the feast of i6 INTRODUCTION the Passover. The dove cooing on the edge of the slate roof is the same that announced the end of the great punishment to the Patriarch, or the same that descended on the waters of the Jordan. For the poet everything is of equal value and omni¬ present, and all history is sacred history. The author begs the pardon of his austere contemporaries if rather more than is fitting he lets himself go to what is nowa¬ days disdainfully dubbed eloquence, illegitimate issue of pom¬ pous rhetoric and illegitimate mother of overemphasis and other dropsical growths of elocution. He knows very well that eloquence displeases moderns as bright red cloth displeases the fine city lady, as the organ in a church displeases minuet dancers, but he has not always suc¬ ceeded in dispensing with it. When it is not borrowed decla¬ mation, eloquence is the ardent expression of faith, and in an era which has no faith there is no place for eloquence. And yet the life of Jesus is such a drama and such a poem that in place of the words, worn thread-bare, which we have at our dis¬ position, we should use only those “torn and sentient’’ words of which Passavanti speaks. Bossuet, who knew something about eloquence, once wrote: “Plut à Dieu que nous puissions détacher de notre parole tout se qui delecte I’esprit, tout ce qui surprend I’imagination, pour ne laisser que la verité toute simple, la seule force et l’efficace toute pure du Saint Esprit, nulle pensée que pour convertir.” Very true, but difficult to achieve. At times the author of this book would have liked to possess an eloquence vivid and powerful enough to shake all hearts, an imagination rich enough to transport the soul by enchantment into a world of light, of gold and of fire. Yet at other times he almost regretted that he was too much the artist, too much the man of letters, too much given to inlaying and chiseling, and that he did not know how to leave things in their powerful nudity. Only when he has finished a book does an author know how he ought to have written it. When he has set down the last word, he ought to turn back, begin at the beginning, and do it all over again with the experience acquired in the work. But INTRODUCTION 17 who has, I do not say the energy to do this, but even the con¬ ception that it ought to be done. If on some of its pages this book sounds like a sermon, there is no great harm done. In these days when for the most part only women, and an occasional old man, go to listen to the preaching in churches, where mediocre things are often said in a mediocre manner, but where more often still, truths are re¬ peated which ought not to be forgotten, we must think of the others, of the scholarly men, of “intellectuals,” of the sophisti¬ cated, of those who never enter a church, but sometimes step into a book-shop. For nothing in the world would they listen to a friar’s sermon, but they condescend to read it when it is printed in a book. And let it be said once and for all, this book is specially written for those who are outside the Church of Christ; the others, those who have remained within, united to the heirs of the Apostles, do not need my words. The author excuses himself for having written a book with so many, with too many pages, on only one theme. Now that most books — even his own books — are only bundles of pages taken out of journals, or short-winded little stories, or short notes taken from note-books, and generally do not go beyond two or three hundred pages, to have written more than four hundred pages on one theme will seem a tremendous presump¬ tion. The book certainly will seem long to modern readers used to light wafers rather than to substantial home-made loaves. But books, like days, are long or short, according to what you put into them. And the author is not so cured of his pride as to think that this book will remain unread on account of its length, and he flatters himself that it may be read with less tedium than other books that are shorter. So difficult it is to cure oneself of conceit — even for those whose wish it is to cure others. 6 Some years ago the author of this book wrote another to de¬ scribe the melancholy life of a man who wished for a moment to become God. Now in the maturity of his years and of his i8 INTRODUCTION consciousness he has tried to write the life of a God who made Himself man. This same writer in those days let his mad and voluble hu¬ mor run wild along all the roads of paradox, holding that a con¬ sequence of the negation of everything transcendental was the need to despoil oneself of any bigotry, even profane and worldly, to arrive at integral and perfect atheism; and he was logical as the “black cherubim” of Dante, because there is only one choice allowed man, the choice between God and nothing¬ ness. When man turns from God there is no valid reason to uphold the idols of the tribe or any other of the old fetiches of reason or of passion. In those proud and feverish days he who writes affronted Christ as few men before him have ever done. And yet scarcely six years afterwards (but six years of great travail and devastation without and within his heart), after long months of agitated meditations, he suddenly inter¬ rupted another work begun many years ago, and almost as if urged and forced by a power stronger than himself, he began to v/rite this book about Christ which seems to him insufficient expiation for his guilt. It has happened often to Christ that He has been more tenaciously loved by the very men who hated Him at first. Hate is sometimes only imperfect and uncon¬ scious love: and in any case it is a better foundation for love than indifference. How the writer came to discover Christ again, by himself, treading many roads, which all brought him to the foot of the Mount of the Gospel, would be too long and too hard a story to tell. But there is a significance not perhaps wholly personal and private in the example of a man who always from his child¬ hood felt a repulsion for all recognized forms of religious faith, and for all churches, and for all forms of spiritual vassalage and who passed, with disappointments as deep as the enthusi¬ asms had been vivid, through many experiences, the most varied and the most unhackneyed which he could find, who had consumed in himself the ambitions of an epoch unstable and restless as few have been, and who after so many wander¬ ings, ravings and dreamings, drew near to Christ. He did not turn back to Christ out of weariness, because his INTRODUCTION 19 return to Christ made life become more difficult and responsi¬ bilities heavier to bear; not through the fears of old age, for he can still call himself a young man; and not through desire for worldly fame, because as things go nowadays he would re¬ ceive more commendation if he continued in his old ideas. But this man, turning back to Christ, saw that Christ is be¬ trayed, and, worse than any affront to Him, that He is being forgotten. And he felt the impulse to bring Him to mind and to defend Him. For not only His enemies have left Him, and despoiled Him; the very ones who were His disciples when He was alive only half understood Him, and deserted Him at the end; and many of those who were born in His church disobey His commands, care more for His painted pictures than for His living ex¬ ample, and when they have worn out their lips and knees in materialistic piety, think they are quits with Him, and that they have done what He asked of man, — what He still is ask¬ ing, what He has been asking desperately and always in vain for nineteen hundred years. A story of Christ written to-day is an answer, a necessary reply, an inevitable conclusion. The balance of modern public opinion is against Christ. A book about Christ’s life is there¬ fore a weight thrown into the scales, in order that from the eternal war between love and hate there may result at least the equilibrium of justice. And if the author is called a re¬ actionary, that is nothing to him. The man who is thought to be behind the times often is a man born too soon. The setting sun is the same which at that very moment colors the early morning of a distant country. Christianity is not a piece of antiquity now assimilated, in as far as it had anything good, by the wonderful and not-to-be-improved modern conscious¬ ness; but it is for very many something so new that it has not even yet begun. The world to-day seeks for peace rather than for liberty, and the only certain peace is found under the yoke of Christ. They say that Christ is the prophet of the weak, and on the contrary He came to give strength to the languishing, and to raise up those trodden under foot to be higher than kings. 20 INTRODUCTION They say that His is the religion of the sick and of the dying, and yet He heals the sick and brings the sleeping to life. They say that He is against life, and yet He conquers death; that He is the God of sadness, and yet He exhorts His followers to be joyful and promises an everlasting banquet of joy to His friends. They say that He introduced sadness and mortification into the world, and on the contrary when He was alive He ate and drank, and let His feet and hair be perfumed, and detested hypocritical fasts, and the penitential mummeries of vanity. Many have left Him because they never knew Him. This book is especially for such readers. This book is written, if you will pardon the mention, by a Florentine, a son of the only nation which ever chose Christ for its King. Savonarola first had the idea in 1495, but could not carry it through. In spite of a threatening siege, it was taken up in 1527 and approved by a great majority. Over the door of the Palazzo Vecchio, between Michael Angelo’s David and Bandinelli’s Hercules, a marble tablet was built into the wall, with these words: Jesus Christus Rex Florentini POPULI P. DECRETO ELECTUS. Although changed by Cosimo, this inscription is still there; the decree was never formally abrogated and denied, and even to-day after four hundred years of usurpations, the WTiter of this book is proud to call himself a subject and soldier of Christ the King. LIFE OF CHRIST JESUS was born in a stable, a real stable, not the bright, airy portico which Christian painters have created for the Son of David, as if ashamed that their God should have lain down in poverty and dirt. And not the modern Christmas- eve ^‘Holy Stable’’ either, made of plaster of Paris, with little candy-like statuettes, the Holy Stable, clean and prettily painted, with a neat, tidy manger, an ecstatic Ass, a contrite Ox, and Angels fluttering their wreaths on the roof — this is not the stable where Jesus was born. A real stable is the house, the prison of the animals who work for man. The poor, old stable of Christ’s old, poor coun¬ try is only four rough walls, a dirty pavement, a roof of beams and slate. It is dark, reeking. The only clean thing in it is the manger where the owner piles the hay and fodder. Fresh in the clear morning, waving in the wind, sunny, lush, sweet-scented, the spring meadow was mown. The green grass, the long, slim blades were cut down by the scythe ; and with the grass the beautiful flowers in full bloom — white, red, yellow, blue. They withered and dried and took on the one dull color of hay. Oxen dragged back to the barn the dead plunder of May and June. And now that grass has become dry hay and those flowers, still smelling sweet, are there in the Manger to feed the slaves of man. The animals take it slowly with their great black lips, and later the flowering fields, changed into moist dung, return to light on the litter which serves as bedding. This is the real stable where Jesus was born. The filthiest place in the world was the first room of the only Pure Man ever born of woman. The Son of Man, who was to be devoured by wild beasts calling themselves men, had as His first cradle 21 22 LIFE OF CHRIST the manger where the animals chewed the cud of the mirac¬ ulous flowers of Spring. It was not by chance that Christ was born in a stable. What is the world but an immense stable where men produce filth and wallow in it? Do they not daily change the most beauti¬ ful, the purest, the most divine things into excrements? Then, stretching themselves at full length on the piles of manure, they say they are ^^enjoying life.’’ Upon this earthly pig-sty, where no decorations or perfumes can hide the odor of filth, Jesus appeared one night, born of a stainless Virgin armed only with innocence. THE ox AND THE ASS First to worship Jesus were animals, not men. Among men He sought out the simple-hearted: among the simple-hearted He sought out children. Simpler than children, and milder, the beasts of burden welcomed Him. Though humble, though servants of beings 'weaker and fiercer than they, the ass and the ox had seen multitudes kneeling before them. Christ’s own people, the people of Je¬ hovah, the chosen people whom Jehovah had freed from Egyptian slavery, when their leader left them alone in the desert to go up and talk with the Eternal, did they not force Aaron to make them a Golden Calf to worship? In Greece the ass was sacred to Ares, to Dionysius, to Hyperborean Apollo. Balaam’s ass, wiser than the prophet, saved him by speaking. Oxus, King of Persia, put an ass in the temple of Ptha, and had it worshiped. And Augustus, Christ’s temporal sovereign, had set up in the temple the brazen statue of an ass, to com¬ memorate the good omen of his meeting on the eve of Actium an ass named ^The Victorious.” Up to that time the Kings of the earth and the populace craving material things had bowed before oxen and asses. But Jesus did not come into the world to reign over the earth, nor to love material things. He was to bring to an end the bowing down before beasts, the weakness of Aaron, the superstition of Augustus. The beasts of Jerusalem will murder LIFE OF CHRIST 23 Him, but in the meantime the beasts of Bethlehem warm Him with their breath. In later years, when Jesus went up to the city of death for the Feast of the Passover, He was mounted on an ass. But He was a greater prophet than Balaam, coming not to save the Jews alone but all men: and He did not turn back from His path, no, not though all the mules of Jerusalem brayed against him. THE SHEPHERDS .i? After the animals came those who care for animals. Even if the Angel had not announced the great birth, they would have gone to the stable to see the son of the stranger woman. Shepherds live almost always alone and far away. They know nothing of the distant world, nor of the feast-days of the earth. They are moved by whatever happens near to them, even if it is but a little thing. But as they were watching their flocks in the long winter night, they were shaken by the light and by the words of the Angel. ^Tear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy. . . . Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men of good will.” In the dim light of the stable they saw a beautiful young woman gazing silently at her son. And as they saw the baby with His eyes just open. His delicate rosy flesh. His mouth which had not yet eaten, their hearts softened The birth of a new man, a soul just become incar¬ nate taking upon itself to suffer with other souls, is always a miracle so deep as to move to pity even the simple-hearted who do not understand it. For the shepherds forewarned, this new-born child was not just a baby, but He for whom their suffering race had been waiting, for a thousand years. The shepherds offered what little they had, that little which is so great when offered with love. They carried the white offerings of their craft, milk, cheese, wool, the lamb. Even to¬ day in our mountains, where one finds the last dying traces of hospitality and fraternal feeling, as soon as a wife is delivered of a child, the sisters, wives and daughters of the shepherds come hurrying to her; and not one of them empty-handed. 24 LIFE OF CHRIST One has three or four eggs still warm from the nest, another a cup of freshly drawn milk, another a little cheese, another a pullet to make broth for the new mother. A new being has begun his suffering: the neighbors hasten to carry their offer¬ ings almost as though to console the mother. Themselves poor the old-time shepherds did not look down on the poor. Simple as children they loved children. They came of a race born of the Shepherd of Ur, saved by the Shep¬ herd of Madian. Their first kings had been shepherds — Saul and David — shepherds of herds before being shepherds of tribes. But these shepherds of Bethlehem, “unknown to the hard world,” were not proud. A poor man was born among them and they looked on Him with affection and lovingly brought Him their poor riches. They knew that this boy, born of poor people in poverty, born of common people in the midst of common people, was to be the redeemer of the hum¬ ble, of those men of good will, on whom the Angel had called down peace. THE WISE MEN Some days after this, three wise men came from Chaldea and knelt before Jesus. They came perhaps from Ecbatana, perhaps from the shores of the Caspian Sea. Mounted on their camels with their full-stuffed saddle-bags, they had forded the Tigris and the Euphrates, crossed the great desert of the no¬ mad tribes, followed along the Dead Sea. They were guided to Judea by a new star like the comet which appears every so often in the sky to announce the birth of a prophet or the death of a Caesar. They had come to adore a King, and they found a nursing baby, poorly swaddled, hidden within a stable. Almost a thousand years before this, a Queen of the East had come on a pilgrimage to Judea, and she, too, had car¬ ried gifts, gold, fragrant perfumes and precious stones; but she had found on the throne the greatest king who had ever reigned in Jerusalem and from him had learned what no one else had been able to teach her. The wise men found no king. They found a new-born baby, a tiny boy, who could neither ask nor answer questions. LIFE OF CHRIST 25 a boy who in His maturity was to disdain material treasures, and the learning which is based on material things. They were not kings, these wise men, but in Media and Persia they were the masters of kings. The kings ruled over the people, but the wise men directed the kings. They alone could communicate with Alma Mazda, the good God. They alone knew the future, and Destiny. They killed with their own hands the enemies of men and of the harvests, snakes, harmful insects, birds of prey. They purified souls, they puri¬ fied the fields. Except from their hands God accepted no sacri¬ fices. No king began a war without consulting them. Theirs were the secrets of heaven and earth. In the name of science and religion they held first rank in the nation. In the midst of a people sunk in material things they represented the Spirit. It was fitting that they should come to kneel before Jesus. After the animals which are Nature, after the Shepherds which are the common people, this third power which is knowledge knelt at the manger in Bethlehem. The old priestly caste of the Orient made its act of submission before the new Lord, who was to send His Gospel to the west. The learned men knelt before Him who was to set above the learning of words and numbers the new wisdom of love. Symbolizing the old theology bowing before the final revela¬ tion, the wise men at Bethlehem knelt before Innocence: Wealth prostrated itself at the feet of Poverty. They offered gold to Jesus: gold which He was to tread un¬ der foot. They offered it not because Mary in her poverty might need it for the journey, but in anticipation of the com¬ mand, ‘^Sell all that thou hast and give it to the poor.” They offered Him frankincense, not to drown the stench of the stable, but as a token that their own ritual was ended; that their altars would need smoke and perfume no longer. They offered Him myrrh knowing that this boy would die young, and His mother, smiling now, would need spices to embalm the dead body. Kneeling in their pontifical robes upon the bedding of straw, they, the mighty, the learned, the soothsayers, offered them¬ selves as pledges of the obedience of the world. 26 LIFE OF CHRIST Jesus now had received all His rightful investitures. Th wise men had scarcely gone when persecutions were begun b those who were to hate Him to the day of His death. OCTAVIUS AUGUSTUS When Christ appeared upon the earth, criminals ruled th world unopposed. He was born subject to two sovereigns, th stronger far away at Rome, the weaker and wickeder close a hand in Judea. One lucky adventurer after wholesale slaughter had seize( the empire, another had murdered his way to the throne o David and Solomon. Each rose to high position through trick ery, through civil wars, betrayals, cruelty, massacres. The] were born to understand one another, were, as a matter of fad friends and accomplices, as far as was possible between a sub ordinate rascal and his rascal chief. Son of the usurer of Velletri, Augustus showed himself cow ardly in war and vindictive in victory, false to his friends, crue in reprisals. To a condemned man who begged only fo burial he answered, “That is the business of the vultures.' To the Perugians begging for mercy during the massacre h( cried, “Moriendum esse!’’ On a mere suspicion he wanted t( tear out the eyes of the Praetor Quintus Gallius before order ing his throat cut. Possessed of the empire, with his enemie crushed and scattered, with the power all in his own hands, h( put on a mask of mildness and of his youthful vices kept onlj his lust. It was told of him, that in his youth, he had sold hU body twice, first to Caesar, and again in Spain to Hirtius foi 300,000 sestertia. Now he amused himself with the wives 0 his friends, with almost public adulteries, and with posing as the restorer of morality. This filthy, sickly man was sovereign of the western worlc when Jesus was born, nor did he ever know that One had beer born who would bring the dissolution of all that he had founded The facile philosophy of the plump little plagiarist Horace was enough for him, “To-day let us enjoy wine and love: hopeless death awaits us: there is not a day to be lost!” In vain Virgil LIFE OF CHRIST 27 the man of the countryside, friend of woods, of quiet flocks and golden bees, he who had gone down with ^neas to see the sufferers in Avernus and poured his restless melancholy into the music of poetry; in vain Virgil, the loving pious Virgil, had foretold a new era, a new order and a new race, a kingdom of heaven less spiritual, less brilliant than that which Jesus was to announce, but infinitely nobler and purer than the kingdom of Hell which was then making ready. In vain, because Au¬ gustus saw in these words only a pastoral fancy and perhaps believed that he, the corrupt master of the corrupt, was the proclaimed Saviour and restorer of the reign of Saturn. But his vassal of Judea, his great Oriental client, may have had a presentiment of the birth of Jesus, of the true King, who was coming to supplant the king of eviL HEROD THE GREAT Herod was a monster, one of the most perfidious monsters of the many which have sprung from the burning deserts of the East. He was not a Jew, nor a Greek, nor a Roman. He was an Idumean, a barbarian who prostrated himself before Rome, and aped the Greeks the better to secure his dominion over the Jews. Son of a traitor, he had usurped the kingdom of his sovereign from the last unfortunate Hasmonaeans. To legalize his treachery he married their niece, Mariamne. After¬ wards, on a baseless suspicion, he had her killed. It was not his first crime. He had had his brother-in-law, Aristobulus, treacherously drowned. He had condemned his other brothers- in-law, Joseph and Hyrcanus the Second (last of the conquered dynasty). Not content with having killed Mariamne, he put her mother, Alexandra, to death as well, and finally, the sons of Baba, merely because they were distant relatives of the Hasmonaeans. In the meantime he amused himself with burn¬ ing alive Juda of Sarafaus and Matthew of Margoloth with other heads of the Pharisees. Later, afraid that the sons he had had by Mariamne would wish to avenge their mother, he had them strangled. Himself at the point of death he gave the order to kill a third son, Archelaus. Voluptuous, suspicious, •n '■ 1 28 LIFE OF CHRIST impious, greedy of gold and of glory, he never knew peace a home, in Judea or in his own heart. In order that he migh bury the recollection of his assassinations he gave the Roma: people a present of three hundred talents to spend in festivals He humiliated himself before Augustus to make him the ac complice of his infamies and, dying, left him ten thousand drachmas and, in addition, a ship of gold and one of silver fo Livia. This half-civilized Arab attempted to conciliate the Greek and the Jews. He succeeded in bribing the degenerate pos terity of Socrates so that in Athens they put up a statue t him, but the Jews hated him to the day of his death. It dii him no good, in their eyes, to build up Samaria and restore th temple of Jerusalem. He was always, for them, the heathei and the usurper. Apprehensive like all ageing evil-doers, and like all new made princes, he shivered at every fluttering leaf, every shift ing shadow. Superstitious like all Orientals, credulous o presages and soothsayers, he readily believed the three wis men when they said, that led by a star, they had come fror the interior of Chaldea towards the country which he ha^ fraudulently stolen. Any pretender to the throne, even a far tastic one, could make him tremble, and when he knew fror the wise men that a King of Judea was born, his uneasy, bar barian’s heart gave a great leap of fear. Seeing that the as trologers did not come back to tell him the place where th new nephew of David had appeared, he ordered that all th boy babies of Bethlehem should be killed. THE INNOCENTS Nobody ever knew how many children were sacrificed to thi terror of Herod. It was not the first time in Judea that evei nursing children had been put to the sword. This same He brew people had punished in the olden times cities of thei enemies by the massacre of the old men, the wives, the younj men and the boys. They saved only the virgins to make then slaves and concubines. God Himself, the jealous Jehovah, hai LIFE OF CHRIST 29 often given the order for the slaughter, and now the Idumean applied to the people who had accepted him, the Mosaic law of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. We do not know how many of the Innocents there were, but if we can believe Macrobius we know that among them was a little son of Herod who was at nurse in Bethlehem. For the old King, wife-killer and son-killer, who knows but that this was a form of retribution : who knows but that he suffered when they brought him news of the mistake? A short time after this he also was to die, suffering from loathsome disease. His body began to putrefy while still alive. Worms consumed his organs. Burnt up with fevers, gasping, he could scarcely draw his tainted breath. Disgusting to himself, he tried to kill him¬ self with a knife at table, and finally died, after having given Salome orders to have many young prisoners killed. The massacre of the Innocents was the last act of the reek¬ ing, bloody old man. There is a prophetic meaning in this immolation of the Innocents around the cradle of an Innocent, this holocaust of blood for a new-born child, a child destined to offer His blood for the pardon of the guilty, this human sacrifice for One, who in His turn was to be sacrificed. After His death thousands and thousands were to die for the sole crime of having believed in His resurrection. He was born to die for others and as if to expiate His birth, behold, here are thousands born who die for Him. There is a tremendous mystery in this blood-offering of the pure, in the death of so many of His contemporaries. They belonged to the generation which was to betray and crucify Him. But those who were killed by the soldiers of Herod that day did not see Him, did not grow up to see their Lord killed. They saved Him with their death, and saved themselves for¬ ever. They were innocent and they remained innocent for all eternity. Their fathers and their surviving brothers avenged them later, but they will be pardoned because ‘‘they know not what they do ! 30 LIFE OF CHRIST THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT A Christian poeL an Italian^ sang this lullaby to the new¬ born Jesusi Sleep, baby, do not weep, Sleep, heavenly babe. Over your head, the tempests shall not dare to rage! But the son of Mary did not make Himself man in order to sleep, and the tempests raged, but He was not afraid. Better than Siddharta, He deserves the name of the Awak¬ ened one. How can He sleep in the stable, where the donkey brays, precursor of all donkeys who will bray against Him: where the ox lows, waiting until the other oxen speak at His presence; where the shepherds question Him; where the wise men give Him their blessing? How can He sleep when the shuffling steps of Herod’s assassins draw near? How can He ever sleep up to that last night when He will agonize under the olive trees, amid the sleeping bodies of the Eleven? And Mary cannot sleep. In the evening as soon as the houses of Bethlehem disappear in the darkness and the first lamps are lighted, the mother steals away like a fugitive. She is snatching a life away from the King, she is saving a hope for the people as she presses upon her breast her man-child, her hope, her sorrow. She goes towards the west, she crosses the old land of Canaan and comes by easy stages — the days are short — to the Nile, to that country of Mizraim which had cost so many tears to her ancestors fourteen centuries before. Jesus, who carried on the work of Moses and at the same time demolished the work of Moses, goes back over the route taken by the first redeemer. When the Jews were under the whip of the Egyptian slaves, oppressed, mistreated, ill-used, the Shepherd of Median made himself the Shepherd of Israel, and led his hard-headed people across the desert till they were in sight of the Jordan and of the miraculous vineyards. The people of Jesus left Chaldea with Abraham and came with LIFE OF CHRIST 31 Joseph into Egypt. Moses led them from Egypt toward Canaan. Now the greatest of the liberators, in danger of his life, went back to the banks of that river where the first Saviour had been saved from the water and had saved his brothers. Egypt, the rich spawning-bed of all the infamies and all the magnificences of the first epoch, that African India, where the waves of history broke and died, where but a few years be¬ fore, Pompey and Antony had finished the dream of Empire and of life, this prodigious country, born of water, burned by the sun, covered with the blood of many peoples, inhabited by many animal-gods, this country, paradoxical and supernatural, was by contrast the predestined asylum for the fugitive. The wealth of Egypt was in mud, in the rich snake-breeding mud which the Nile rolled out each year upon the desert. Death was the obsession of Egypt. The soft, prosperous peo¬ ple of Egypt would not accept death, denied death, thought they could conquer death with graven images, with embalm¬ ings, with sculptured representation of flesh-and-blood bodies. The rich, portly Egyptian, son of mud, adorer of the sacred bull, and the dog-headed god, could not resign himself to dying. He manufactured for his second life immense necropolises full of bandaged and perfumed mummies, of images of wood and marble, and raised up pyramids over his corpses, as if stone and mortar might save them from decay. When Jesus could speak. He was to pronounce the verdict against Egypt: the Egypt which is not only on the banks of the Nile, the Egypt which has not yet disappeared from the face of the earth along with its kings, its sparrow-hawks and its ser¬ pents. Christ was to give the final and eternal ansv/er to the terror of the Egyptians. He was to condemn the wealth which comes from mud and returns to mud, and all the fetiches of the pot-bellied river-dwellers of the Nile, and He was to conquer death without sculptured tombs, without mortuary kingdoms, without statues of granite and basalt. His victory over death is won by teaching that sin is greedier than worms and that spiritual purity is the only aromatic which preserves from decay. 32 LIFE OF CHRIST The worshipers of mud and of animals, the servants of riches and of the Beast, could not save themselves. Their tombs, high as mountains though they be, decked out like queens’ palaces, white and fair to see as those of the Pharisees, guard only ashes, dust returning again to dust, even as the dead bodies of animals. Death cannot be conquered by copy¬ ing life in wood and stone. Stone crumbles away and turns to dust, wood rots and turns to dust, and both of them are mud — eternal mud. THE LOST FOUND But the exile in Egypt was short. Jesus was brought back, held in His mother’s arms, rocked throughout the long journey by the patient step of the ass, to His father’s house in Naz¬ areth, humble house and shop where the hammer pounded and the rasp scraped until the setting of the sun. The canonical gospels say nothing of these years: the Apo¬ crypha give many details but unworthy of belief. Luke, the wise doctor, is content to set down that the boy grew and was strong; that is, that he was not sickly and overworked. He was a boy developed as he should be: healthy, a bearer of health, as was fitting in one who was to restore health to others by the mere touch of His hand. Every year, says Luke, the parents of Jesus went to Jerusa¬ lem for the feast of unleavened bread in memory of the escape from Egypt. They went with a crowd of neighbors, friends, and acquaintances to keep each other company on the journey. They were cheerful like people going to a festival rather than to a service in memory of a solemn crisis: for the Passover had become at Jerusalem a great feast day, when all the Jews scat¬ tered about the Empire came together. On the twelfth Passover after the birth of Jesus, as the group from Nazareth was returning from the holy city, Mary found that her son was not with them. All day long she sought for Him, asking every acquaintance, but in vain. The next morning the mother turned back, retraced her steps over the road and went up and down the streets and open places of LIFE OF CHRIST 33 Jerusalem, fixing her dark eyes on every boy she met, asking the mothers standing in the open doors, begging her country¬ men not yet gone, to help her find her lost son. A mother who has lost her son does not rest until she has found him; she thinks no more of herself, she does not feel weariness, effort, hunger. She does not shake the dust from her clothes nor ar¬ range her hair. She cares not for the curious glances of the passers-by. Her distracted eyes see nothing but the image of him, who is no longer beside h^r. Finally on the third day she came to the Temple, looked about in the courts, and saw at last in the shadow of a portico a group of old men talking. She came up timidly, for those men with long cloaks and long beards seemed people of im¬ portance who would pay no attention to a plain woman from Galilee, and discovered in the center of the circle the waving hair, the shining eyes, the tanned face, the fresh lips of her Jesus. Those old men were talking with her son of the Law and the Prophets. They were asking Him questions and He was answering; He put questions to them in His turn and they marveled at Him, astonished that a boy should know the words of the Lord so well. But He remembered the books which He had heard read out in the little Synagogue of Naz¬ areth: and His memory had retained every syllable. Mary remained for a few moments gazing at Him, hardly believing her eyes. Her heart, a moment before beating fast with fear, was now beating fast with astonishment. But she could not restrain herself any more and suddenly in a loud voice called Him by name. The old men took themselves off and the mother snatched her son to her breast and silently clasped Him to her, the tears which she had kept back till then raining down on His face. She clutched Him, took Him away, and then, certain that she had Him with her, that she had not lost Him, the happy mother remembered the despairing mother, ^^Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing.” ^^How is it that ye sought me? wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?” 34 LIFE OF CHRIST Weighty words, especially when said by a twelve-year-old boy to a mother who had sought Him for three long days. And, the Evangelist goes on, ‘^And they understood not the saying which he spake unto them.” But after so many cen¬ turies of Christian experience we can understand those words, which seemed at first sight to be hard and proud. How is it that ye sought me? Do you not know that I can never be lost, that I can never be lost by any one, even those who will bury me under the earth? I will be everywhere where any one believes in me, even if they do not see me with their eyes. I cannot be lost from any man, by any man, provided that he hold me in his heart. I shall not be lost alone in the desert nor alone on the waters of the lake, nor alone in the gar¬ den of olives, nor alone in the tomb. ^^And who is this father of whom you speak to me? He is the legal father, the human father, but my real Father is in heaven. He is the Father who spoke to the patriarchs face to face, who put words into the mouths of the prophets. I know what He told them of me. His eternal wishes, the laws He has given to His people, the covenant which He has signed with all men. If I am to do what He has commanded me, I must be busy about what is truly His. What is a legal, temporal tie confronted with a mystic, spiritual and eternal bond?” ^ THE WOODWORKER But the hour for really leaving His home had not come for Jesus. The voice of John had not yet been heard; and with His father and mother He once more went along the road to Nazareth and returned to Joseph’s shop to help him in his trade. Jesus did not go to school to the Scribes nor to the Greeks. But He did not lack for teachers. Three teachers He had, greater than all the learned : work, nature and the Book. It must never be forgotten that Jesus was a working man and the adopted son of a working man: that He was born poor, among people who worked with their hands; before He gave out His gospel He earned His daily bread with the labor of His LIFE OF CHRIST 35 hands. Those hands which blest the simple-hearted^ which cured the lepers, which gave light to .the blind, which brought the dead to life, those hands which were pierced with nails upon the cross, were hands which had been bathed with the sweat of labor, hands which had known the numbness of work, hands which were callous with work, hands which had held the tools of work, which had driven nails into wood, the hands of a working man. Before being a workman of the^ spirit, Jesus was a man who worked with material things. He was poor before He sum¬ moned the poor to His table, to the festival of His Kingdom. He was not born into a wealthy family, into the house of luxury on a bed covered with purple and fine linen. Descendant of kings. He lived in a woodworker’s shop: Son of God He was born in a stable. He did not belong to the caste of the great, to the aristocracy of warriors, to the circles of the rich, to the Sanhedrim of the priests. He was born into the lowest class of the people, the class which has below it only the vagabonds, the beggars, the fugitives, the slaves, the criminals, the prosti¬ tutes. When He became no longer a manual worker. He went down lower yet in the eyes of respectable folk, and sought His friends in that miserable huddle which is even below the com¬ mon people. But until that day when Jesus, before going down into the Inferno of the dead, went down into the Inferno of the living. His position was that of a poor working man and nothing more, in the hierarchy of castes which eternally sep¬ arates men. Jesus’ trade is one of the four oldest and most sacred of I men’s occupations. The trades of the peasant, the mason, the smith, and the carpenter are, among the manual arts, those most impregnated with the life of man, the most innocent and the most religious. The warrior degenerates into a bandit, the ii sailor into a pirate, the merchant into an adventurer, but the i peasant, the mason, the smith, the carpenter do not betray, cannot betray, do not become corrupt^ They handle the most familiar materials, and their task is to transform them visibly into visible, solid, concrete creations, useful to all men. The 1 peasant breaks the clod and takes from it the bread eaten by 1 LIFE OF CHRIST 36 the saint in his grotto and the murderer in his prison; the mason squares the stone and builds up the house of the poor man, the house of the king, the house of God. The smith heats and fashions the iron to give a sv/ord to the soldier, a plowshare to the peasant, a hammer to the carpenter. The carpenter saws and nails the wood to construct the door which protects the house from the thieves, to make the bed on which thieves and innocent people die. These plain things, these common, ordinary, usual things, so usual, common and ordinary that they pass disregarded un¬ der our eyes used to more complicated marvels, are the sim¬ plest creations of man, but more miraculous and essential than any later inventions. Jesus, the carpenter, lived in His youth in the midst of these things, made them with His hands, and for the first time by means of these things manufactured by Him, entered into com¬ munion with the daily life of men, v/ith the most intimate and sacred life, home life. He made the table around which it is so sweet to sit in the evening with one’s friends, even if one of them is a traitor; the bed whereon man draws his first and last breath; the chest where the country wife keeps her poor clothes, her aprons, her handkerchiefs for festivals, and the starched white shirts for great days. He made the kneading trough where the flour is put, and the leaven raises it until it is ready for the oven; and the arm-chair where the old men sit around the fire of an evening to talk of never-returning youth. Often while the thin, light shavings curled up under the steel of His plane and the sawdust rained down on the ground, Jesus must have thought of the promises of the Father, of the prophe¬ cies of old time, of what He was to create, not with boards and rules, but with spirit and truth. His trade taught Him that to live means to transform dead and useless things into living and useful things : that the mean¬ est material fashioned and shaped can become precious, friendly, useful to men: that the only way to bring salvation is to transform; and that just as a child’s crib or a wife’s bed can be made out of a log of olive wood, gnarled, knotty and LIFE OF CHRIST 37 earthy, so the filthy money-changer and the wretched prosti¬ tute can be transformed into true citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven. FATHERHOOD In nature where the sun shines on the good and on the bad, where wheat ripens and grows golden to give bread to Jew and heathen, where the stars shine qn the shepherd’s cabin and the murderer’s prison; where grape clusters turn purple and swell to give wine to the wedding banquet and to the orgies of as¬ sassins; where the birds of the air freely singing find their food without fatigue, where thieving foxes also have their refuge and the lilies of the field are clad in more splendor than kings, Jesus found the earthly confirmation of His eternal certainty that God is not a Master who punishes one day of enjoyment by a thousand years of reproach, nor a fierce war-like Jehovah who commands the extermination of enemies, nor a kind of grand sultan who delights in being served by satraps of high lineage and keeps close watch that his servants execute to the last detail the rigorous ritualistic etiquette of that Regia Curia, which is the Temple. As a Son, Christ knew that God is Father: Father of all mankind and not only of the people of Abraham. The love of a husband is strong but carnal and jealous. The love of a brother is often poisoned with envy; that of a son stained with rebellion; that of a friend spotted with deceit; that of a mas¬ ter swollen with condescending pride; only the love of a father towards his children is perfect love, pure, disinterested love. The father does for his son what he would do for no one else. His son is his creation, flesh of his flesh and of his bone, grown up by his side day by day, a completion and a complement of his own being. The old man lives again in the young man. The past sees itself in the future. He who has lived sacrifices himself for him who is to live. The father lives in the son, and feels himself exalted. This child was born to him in a moment of passion in the arms of the woman chosen from among all other women, born through the divine anguish of this woman, 38 LIFE OF CHRIST cared for and preserved by his own tears and sweat. He has seen him grow up at his feet, he has warmed his cold little hands between his own, he has heard his first words, eternal miracle ever new! He has seen his first wavering footsteps on the floor of his house. Little by little, he has seen a soul shine out in that body created by him, a new human soul, unique treasure beyond price! Little by little on that face he has seen his own features and those of the child’s mother, of that woman with whom only in this common fruit is he corporeally identified. A human couple who long to become one body through love, attain this unity only in a child. In the presence of this new being, his creation, he feels himself a creator, be¬ neficent, powerful, happy. Because the son looks to his father for everything, and in his childhood has faith only in his father, feels safe only near his father, his father knows that he must live for him, suffer for him, work for him. A father is a God on earth for a son, and a son is almost a God for the father. In the love of a father there is no trace of a brother’s per¬ functory sense of duty, no trace of a friend’s self-interest and rivalry, of a lover’s lustful desire, a servant’s pretense of faith¬ fulness. The love of a father is pure love, the only true love, the only love rightly to be called love. Purged of any elements foreign to its essence, it is the happiness of sacrificing oneself for the happiness of others. This idea of God as Father, which is one of the great new ideas of the gospel of Christ, this profoundly renovating idea that God is Father and loves us as a father loves his children, not as a king loves his slaves; and gives daily bread to all his children and has a loving welcome even for those who sin if only they return to lean their heads upon his breast: this idea which closes the epoch of the old covenant and marks the be¬ ginning of the new covenant, Jesus found in nature. As Son of God and one with the Father, He had always been conscious of this paternity scarcely glimpsed by the most luminous of the prophets. But now sharing all human experience He saw it re¬ flected and as it were revealed in the universe and He was to LIFE OF CHRIST 39 use the most beautiful images of the natural world to transmit to men the first of His joyful messages. THE COUNTRY Jesus, like all great souls, loved the country. The sinner craving purification, the saint moved to prayer, the poet eager to create, take refuge on the m.ountains in green shadows, by the sound of the water, in the^midst of fields which perfume heaven, or on steep desert hills parched by the sun. Jesus took His language from the country: He hardly ever uses learned words, abstract conceptions, drab and generalizing terms. His talk blossoms with colors, is perfumed by odors of field and of orchard, is peopled by the figures of familiar animals. He saw in His Galilee the figs swelling and ripening under the great, dark leaves: He saw the dry tendrils of the vine greened over with leaves, and from the trellises the white and purple clusters hanging down for the joy of the vintage; He saw from the invisible seed, the mustard raise itself up with its rich light branches. Fie heard in the night the mournful rustle of the reeds shaken by the wind along the ditches: He saw the seed of grain buried in the earth and its resurrection in the form of a full ear; when the air first began to be warm. He saw the beautiful red, yellow and purple lilies in the midst of the tender green of the wheat: He saw the fresh tufts of grass, luxuriant to-day and to-morrow dried and cast into the oven; He saw the peaceful animals and the harmful animals, the dove a little vain of its brilliant neck, cooing of love on the roof, the eagle swooping down with widespread wings upon its prey; the swallows of the air which like kings cannot fall if it is not God’s wish: the crows tearing flesh from carrion with their beaks; the loving mother-hen calling the chickens under her wings when the sky darkens and thunders; the treacherous fox, after its kill, slinking back into its dark lair; and the dogs un¬ der the table of their masters begging for scraps that fall to the ground. He saw the serpent writhing through the grass and the dark viper hiding among the scattered stones of the tombs. Born among the shepherds, He who was to become shepherd 40 LIFE OF CHRIST of men knew and loved the flocks; the ewes searching for the lost lamb, the lambs bleating weakly, and sucking, almost hid¬ den under their mother’s woolly bodies, the flocks sweltering on the thin hot pastures of their hills ; He loved with equal love the tiny seed which you can scarcely see on the palm of your hand and the ancient fig tree, casting its shade over the poor man’s house; the birds of the air which sow not neither do they reap; the fish silvering the meshes of the nets to feed His faithful; and raising His e3^es in the sultry evenings of gather¬ ing storm. He saw the lightning flashing out of the east and shattering the darkness of the night, even into the west. But Jesus did not read only in the open many-colored book of the world. He knew that God spoke to men through angels, patriarchs and prophets. His words, His laws, His victories are written in the Book. Jesus knew the magic black signs by which the dead pass on to those not yet born, the thoughts and memories of olden times. Jesus read only the books where His ancestors had set down the story of His people, the will of the Lord, the vision of the Prophets, but He knew them in the letter and spirit better than the scribes and the doctors: and that knowledge gave Him the right to leave off being scholar and to become teacher. THE OLD COVENANT Among all peoples the Jew was the most happy and the most unhappy. His story is a mystery which begins with the idyl in the Garden of Eden and ends with the tragedy of the hill of Golgotha. His first parents were molded by the luminous hands of God, were made masters of Paradise, the country of eternal, fertile summer, set in the midst of rivers, where the rich Oriental fruits hung down ready to their hand, heavy with pulp in the shade of the new young leaves. The new-created sky, not yet sullied by clouds, not yet riven by lightning, or harassed by winds, watched over the first two with all its stars. The first couple had as their duty to love God and to love each other. This was the First Covenant. Weariness un¬ known, grief unknown, unknown death and its terror! The LIFE OF CHRIST 41 first disobedience brought the first exile; the man was con¬ demned to work, the woman to bring forth her young in pain. Work is painful, but it brings the reward of harvests; to give birth means suffering, but it brings the consolation of children. And yet even these inferior and imperfect felicities passed away like leaves devoured by worms. For the first time brother killed brother: human blood fallen on the earth be¬ came corrupt, gave forth an exhalation of sin: the daughters of men united themselves with ^demons and from them were born giants, fierce hunters and slayers of men, who turned the world into a bloody hell. Then God sent His second punishment: to purify the world in an exterminating baptism He drowned in the waters of the flood all men and their crimes. One only, a righteous man, was saved and with him God signed the Second Covenant. With Noah there began the happy days of antiquity, the epoch of the patriarchs, nomad shepherds, centenarians who wandered between Chaldea and Egypt searching for grazing lands, for wells, and for peace. They had no fixed country, no houses, no cities. They brought along in caravans, numer¬ ous as armies, their fruitful wives, their loving sons, their docile daughters-in-law, their innumerable descendants, obedient man-servants and maid-servants, goring, bellowing bulls, cows with hanging udders, playful calves, rams and strong smelling he-goats, mild sheep laden with wool, great earth-colored camels, mares with round cruppers, she-goats holding their heads high and stamping impatiently; and hidden in the sad¬ dle-bags, vases of gold and silver, domestic idols of stone and metal. Arrived at their destination, they spread their tents near a cistern, and the patriarch sat out under the shade of the oaks and sycamores contemplating the great camp from which rose up the smoke of the fires, the sound of the bustling steps of the women and herdsmen, the mooings, the brayings, the bleating of the animals. And the patriarch’s heart was filled with con¬ tent to see all this progeny issued from his seed, all these, his herds, the human increase and the animal increase multiplying year by year. 42 LIFE OF CHRIST In the evening, he raised his eyes to greet the first punctual star which shone like white fire on the summit of the hill; and sometimes his curled white beard shone in the white light of the moon, which for more than a century he was wont to see in the sky at night. Sometimes an angel of the Lord came to visit him, and be¬ fore giving the message with which he was charged, ate at his table. Or, in the heat of the day, the Lord Himself, in the garb of a pilgrim, came and sat down with the old man in the shadow of the tent where they talked with each other, face to face, like two old friends who come together to discuss their affairs. The head of the tribe, master of the servants, be¬ came a servant in his turn, listened to the commands and coun¬ sels and promises and prophecies of his divine master. And between Jehovah and Abraham was signed the Third Cove¬ nant, more solemn than the other two. The son of a patriarch, sold by his brothers as a slave, rises to power in Egypt, and calls his race to him. The Jews think that they have found a fatherland and grow great in numbers and riches. But they allow themselves to be seduced by the gods of Egypt, and Jehovah prepares the third punish¬ ment. The envious Egyptians reduce them to abject slavery. That the punishment may be longer, Jehovah hardens the heart of Pharaoh, but finally raises up the second Saviour, who leads them forth from their sufferings and from the mud of Eg)^t. Their trials are not yet finished: for forty years they wander in the desert. A pillar of cloud guides them by day and a pillar of fire by night. God has assured them a Land of Promise, with rich grazing lands, well-watered, shaded by grape-vines and olives. But in the meantime they have neither water to drink nor bread to eat, and they yearn for the flesh-pots of Egypt. God brings water gushing from a rock; and manna and quails fall from heaven; but tired and uneasy, the Jews betray their God, make a calf of gold and worship it. Moses, saddened like all prophets, misunderstood like all saviours, fol¬ lowed unwillingly like all discoverers of new lands, falls back of the restive and rebellious crowd and begs God to let him lie down forever. But at any cost, Jehovah desires to sign the LIFE OF CHRIST 43 Fourth Covenant with His people. Moses goes down from the smoke-capped thundering mountain, with the two tables of stone whereon the very finger of God has written the Ten Commandments. Moses is not to see the Promised Land, the new Paradise to be reconquered in place of the lost Paradise. But the divine pledge is kept: Joshua and the other heroes cross the Jordan, enter into the land of Canaan, and conquer the people; the cities fall at the breath of their trumpets ; Deborah can sing her song of triumph. The people carry with them the God of bat¬ tles, hidden behind the tents, on a cart drawn by oxen. But the enemies are numerous and have no mind to give way to the newcomers. The Jews wander here and there, shepherds and brigands, victorious when they maintain the covenants of the Law, defeated when they forget them. A giant with unshorn hair kills, single-handed, thousands of Philistines and Amalekites, but a woman betrays him; enemies blind him and set him to turn a mill. Heroes alone are not enough. Kings are needed. A young man of the tribe of Benjamin, tall and well-grown, while looking for his father’s strayed asses, is met by a Prophet who anoints him with the sacred oil, and makes him king of all the people. Saul becomes a powerful warrior, overcomes the Ammonites and Amalekites and founds a military kingdom, dreaded by neighboring tribes. But the same prophet who made him king, now aroused against him, raises up a rival. David, the boy shepherd, kills the king’s giant foe, tempers with his harp the black rages of the king, is loved by the king’s oldest son, marries the daughter of the king, is among the king’s captains. But Saul, suspicious and unbalanced, wishes to kill him. David hides himself in the caves of the mountains, becomes a robber chief. He goes into the service of the Philistines, and when they conquer and kill Saul on the hills of Gilboa, he becomes in his turn king of all Israel. The bold sheep-tender, great as poet and as king, yet cruel and lustful, founds his house in Jerusalem, and with the aid of his gibborim, or body-guard, overcomes and sub¬ jugates the surrounding kingdoms. For the first time, the Jew is feared: for centuries after this he was to long for the 44 LIFE OF CHRIST return of David, and to hope for a descendant of David to save him from his abject subjugation. David is the King of the sword and of song. Solomon is the King of gold and of wisdom. Gold is brought to him as a tribute: he decks with gold the first sumptuous house of Je¬ hovah. He sends ships to faraway Ophir in search of gold; the Queen of Sheba lays down sacks of gold at his feet. But all the splendor of gold and the wisdom of Solomon are not enough to save the king from impurity and his kingdom from ruin. He takes strange women to wife and worships strange gods. The Lord pardons his old age, in memory of his youth, but at his death the kingdom is divided and the dark and shameful centuries of the decadence begin. Plots in the palace, murders of kings, revolts of chiefs, wretched civil wars, periods of idol-worship followed by passing reforms, fill the period of the separation. Prophets appear and admonish, but the kings turn a deaf ear or drive them away. The enemies of Israel grow more powerful. The Phoenicians, the Egyptians, the As¬ syrians, the Babylonians, one after another, invade the two kingdoms, extort tribute and finally, about 600 years before the birth of Jesus, Jerusalem is destroyed, the temple of Je¬ hovah is demolished and the Jews are led as slaves to the rivers of Babylon. The cup of their infidelity and of their sins runs over and the same God who liberated them from the slavery of the Egyptians gives them over as slaves to the Babylonians. This is the fourth punishment and the most terrible of all be¬ cause it is to have no end. From that time on, the Jews were always to be dispersed among strangers and subject to for¬ eigners. Some of them were to return to reconstruct Jerusalem and its temple, but the country, invaded by the Scythians, tributary to the Persians, conquered by the Greeks, was after the last attempt of the Maccabeans finally given over to the hands of a dynasty of Arab barbarians, subject to the Romans. This race, which for so many years lived rich and free in the desert, and for a day was master of kingdoms and believed itself, under the protection of its God, the first people of the earth, was now reduced in numbers, spurned and commanded by foreigners, was the laughing-stock of the nations, the Job LIFE OF CHRIST 45 among peoples. After the death of Jesus, its fate was to be harder yet: Jerusalem destroyed for the second time: in the devastated province only Greeks and Romans holding sway, and the last fragments of Israel scattered over the earth like dust of the street driven before the sirocco. Never were people so loved nor so dreadfully chastised by their God. Chosen to be the first, they were the servants of the last. Aspiring to have a victorious country of their own, they were exiles and slaves in other men’s lands. Although more pastoral than warlike, they never were at peace either with themselves or with others. They fought with their neighbors, with their guests, with their leaders. They fought with their prophets and with their God Himself. Breeding-ground of corruption, governed by men guilty of homicide, treachery, adultery, incest, robbery, simony and idolatry, yet their women gave birth to the most perfect saints of the Orient, upright, admonishing, solitary prophets; and finally from this race was born the Father of the new saints. He who had been awaited by all the Prophets. This people which created no metaphysics nor science, nor music, nor sculpture, nor art, nor architecture of its own, wrote the grandest poetry of antiquity, glowing with sublimity in the Psalms and in the Prophets, inimitably tender in the stories of Joseph and Ruth, burning with voluptuous passion in the Song of Songs. Grown up in the midst of the cults of local rustic gods, they conceived the love of God, the one universal Father. Rich in gold and lands, they could boast in their prophets of the first defenders of the poor, and they conceived of the negation of riches. The same people who had cut the throat of human victims on their altars, and massacred whole cities of guiltless people, gave disciples to Him who preached love for our ene¬ mies. This people, jealous of their jealous God, always be¬ trayed Him to run after other gods. Of their temple, three times built and three times destroyed, nothing remains but a piece of a wall, barely enough so that a line of mourners may lean their heads against it to hide their tears. But this perplexing and contradictory people, superhuman 46 LIFE OF CHRIST and wretched, the first and the last of all, the happiest and the most unhappy of all, although it serves other nations, still dom¬ inates other nations with its money and with its Bible. Al¬ though without a country of its own for centuries, it is among the owners of all countries. Although it crucified its greatest Son with His blood, it divided the history of the world into two parts: and the progeny of those god-killers has become the most infamous but the most sacred of all the peoples. THE PROPHETS Never was a people so warned as were the Jews, from the beginning of the temporal kingdom to its dismemberment: in the great days of the victorious Kings, in the sorrowful days of exile, in the evil days of slavery, in the tragic days of the dis¬ persion. India has its ascetics, who hide themselves in the wilderness to conquer the body and drown the soul in the infinite. China had its familiar sages, peaceful grandfathers who taught civic morality to working people and emperors. Greece had her philosophers, who in their shady porticos contrived har¬ monious systems and dialectic pitfalls. Rome had its law¬ givers who recorded on bronze for the peoples and the centuries the rules of the highest justice attainable to those who command and possess. The Middle Ages had their preachers, who wore themselves out in the effort to arouse drowsy Christianity to a remembrance of the Passion and the terror of Hell. The Jewish people had the Prophets. The Prophets did not give forth their prophecies in caves, spitting out saliva and words together from their tripods. They spoke of the future, but not merely of the future. They foretold things not yet happened, but they also brought to mind the past. They possessed time in its three phases; de¬ ciphering the past, illuminating the present and threatening the future. The Jewish Prophet is a voice speaking, or a hand writing, a voice speaking in the palace of the King or in the caves of the mountains, on the steps of the Temple and in the precincts LIFE OF CHRIST 47 of the Capitol. He is a voice that prays, a prayer that threat¬ ens, a threat that breaks out into divine hope. His heart is afflicted, his mouth is full of bitterness, his arm is raised, point¬ ing out punishment to come; he suffers for his people; because he loves his people, he vituperates them : he punishes them that they may be purified; and after massacres and flames, he teaches the resurrection and the life, triumph and blessedness, the reign of the new David and the Covenant not to be broken. The Prophet leads the idolater back to the true God, re¬ minds the perjurer of his oath, recalls charity to the oppressor, purity to the corrupt, mercy to the fierce, justice to kings, obedience to rebels, punishment to sinners, humbleness to the proud. He goes before the king and reproaches him, he goes down among the dregs of the people and scourges them: he greets priests with blame; presents himself to the rich and brings them to confusion. He announces consolation to the poor, recompense to the afflicted, health to the sick, liberation to enslaved peoples, the coming of the conqueror to the humili¬ ated nation. He is not a king, nor a prince, nor a priest, nor a scribe: he is only a man, a poor, unarmed man, without investitures and without followers. He is a solitary voice, a lamenting voice grieving, a puissant voice howling and calling down shame, a voice which calls to repentance and promises eternity. The Prophet is not a philosopher; it matters little to him whether the world be made of water or of fire, if water and fire cannot purify men’s souls. He is a poet, but without will or consciousness that he is, when the fullness of his indignation and the splendor of his vision create powerful images which rhetoricians never could invent. He is not a priest, for he has never been anointed in the temple by the mercenary guardians of the Book; he is not i a King, for he does not command armed men, and as sword ! has only the Word which comes from on high; he is not a sol¬ dier, but he is ready to die for his God and his people. The prophet is a voice speaking in the name of God ; a hand writing at God’s dictation; he is a messenger sent by God to ! warn those wandering from the right path, who have forgotten 48 LIFE OF CHRIST the Covenant. He is the secretary, the interpreter, and the delegate of God, and thus superior to the King who does not obey God, superior to the priest who does not understand God, to the people who have deserted God to run after idols of wood and stone! The Prophet is the man who sees with a troubled heart but with clear eyes the evil which reigns to-day, the punishment which will come to-morrow, and the kingdom of happiness which will follow punishment and repentance. He speaks in the name of the mute, he is a hand for him who cannot write, a defender for the people scattered and op¬ pressed, an advocate for the poor, an avenger for the humble who cry out under the heel of the powerful. He is not on the side of those who tyrannize, but of those who are trodden un¬ der foot. He does not seek out the satiated and the greedy, but the hungry and the wretched. A troublesome importunate and inopportune voice, hated by the great, out of favor with the crowd, not always understood even by his disciples. Like a hyena scenting from far the stench of carrion, like a raven always croaking out the same cry, like a hungry wolf howling on the mountain top, the prophet goes up and down the streets of Israel followed by suspicion and malediction. Only the poor and the oppressed bless him; but the poor are weak and the oppressed can only listen in silence. Like all loud truthtellers, who disturb the slumbering majority, who unsettle the sordid peace of the mas¬ ters, he is avoided like a leper, persecuted like an enemy. Kings can barely tolerate him, priests regard him as an enemy, the rich detest him. Elijah is forced to flee before the wrath of Jezebel, slayer of prophets; Amos is banished beyond Israel by Amaziah, priest of Bethel; Isaiah is killed by the order of Manesseh; Urijah cut down by King Jehoiakim; Zacharias stoned between the temple and the altar; Jonah thrown into the sea; the sword is prepared for the neck of John, and the cross is ready from which Jesus will hang. The Prophet is an accuser, but men are not willing to admit that they are guilty. He is an inter¬ cessor, but the blind are not willing to be guided by the en- t LIFE OF CHRIST 49 lightened. He is an announcer, but the deaf do not hear his promises. He is a saviour, but men rotting in fatal diseases delight in their maladies and refuse to be cured. Yet the word of the Prophets shall be the eternal testimony in favor of this race which exterminated them but was capable of generating them. And the death of a prophet, who is more than all the prophets, shall suffice to expiate the crimes of all the other peoples who grub about in the dirt of the earth. heVho v^ill come In the house at Nazareth Jesus meditates on the Command¬ ments of the Law, and in the fiery laments of the Prophets He recognizes His destiny. The promises are insistent like knock¬ ing on obstinately closed doors. They are repeated, reiterated, never denied, always confirmed. Precise, minute with irrefut¬ able testimony, they foretell the story. When Jesus at the be¬ ginning of His thirtieth year presents Himself to men as the Son of Man, He knows what awaits Him, even to the last: His life to come is already set down day by day in pages writ¬ ten before His earthly birth. He knows that God promised Moses a new prophet, will raise them up a prophet from among their brethren, like unto thee, and will put my words in his mouth; and he shall speak unto them all that I shall command him.” God will make a new covenant with His people. “Not according to the covenant that I made with their fathers . . . but I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts. . . . I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.” A covenant inscribed upon souls and not upon stone; a covenant of forgiveness and not of punishment! The Messiah will have a precursor to announce Him. “Be¬ hold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me.” “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” But the people will be blind to 50 LIFE OF CHRIST Him and will not listen to Him: “Make the heart of this peo¬ ple fat, and make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes: lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and under¬ stand with their hearts, and convert, and be healed.” “And he shall be a stone of stumbling and for a rock of of¬ fence to both the houses of Israel, for a gin and for a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem.” He will not magnify and flaunt Himself : He will not come in proud triumph, “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion, shout O daughter of Jerusalem, behold thy King cometh unto thee: he is just and having salvation, lowly and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass.” He will bring justice and will lift up the unhappy; “. . . because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; ... to comfort all that mourn.” “The meek also shall increase their joy in the Lord, and the poor among men shall rejoice in the Holy One of Israel. For the terrible one is brought to naught, and the scorner is con¬ sumed, and all that watch for iniquity are cut off.” “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. Then shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing.” “I, the Lord, have called thee in righteousness ... to open the blind eyes, to bring out the prisoners from the prison, and them that sit in darkness from the prison-house.” But He will be vilified and tortured by the very people He comes to save: “he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows and ac¬ quainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised and we esteemed him not. “Surely he hath borne our griefs and carried our sor¬ rows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. “But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon LIFE OF CHRIST 51 him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. ^^He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth ... for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken. ^‘Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt^make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. He shall see of the travail of his soul and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities. Therefore will I divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured out his soul unto death ; and he was numbered with the transgressors; and he bare the sins of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.” He will not draw back before the vilest insults. “I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair: I hid not my face from shame and spitting.” All will be against Him in the supreme moment. ^‘They have spoken against me with a lying tongue. They compassed me about also with words of hatred; and fought against me without a cause. For my love they are my adversaries.” The son cries to the Father: “Thou hast known my reproach, and my shame, and my dishonor: mine adversaries are all before thee. “Reproach hath broken my heart; and I am full of heavi¬ ness: and I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none. “They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.” They pierce Him with nails and divide His clothes among themselves. “For dogs have compassed me: the assembly of the wicked have inclosed me: they pierced my hands and my feet 52 LIFE OF CHRIST . . they look and stare upon me. They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture.” Too late they will understand what they have done and will repent. . . and they shall look upon me whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitter¬ ness for his first born.” ^‘Yea, all kings shall bow down before him; all nations shall serve him. “For he shall deliver the needy when he crieth; the poor also, and him that hath no helper. He shall spare the poor and needy, and shall save the souls of the needy.” “The sons also of them that afflicted thee shall come bend¬ ing unto thee; and all they that despised thee shall bow them¬ selves down at the soles of thy feet.” “For behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee. “And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising. “Lift up thine eyes round about, and see: all they gather themselves together, they come to thee: thy sons shall come from far, and thy daughters shall be nursed at thy side.” “Behold, I have given him for a witness to the people, a leader and commander to the people. Behold, thou shalt call a nation that thou knowest not, and nations that knew not thee shall run into thee because of the Lord thy God.” These and other words are remembered by Jesus in the vigil before His departure. He foresees it all and does not turn away from it. From now on He knows His fate, the ingrati¬ tude of heart, the deafness of His friends, the hatred of the powerful, the scourgings, the spittings, insults, scoffings, oblo¬ quy, piercing of the hands and feet, tortures and death. He knows that the Jews, carnal-minded materialists embittered by humiliation, full of rancor and evil thoughts, are not await¬ ing a poor, gentle, despised Messiah- They all, except a few of LIFE OF CHRIST 53 clear and prophetic vision, are dreaming of a terrestrial Mes¬ siah, an armed King, a second David, a warrior who will shed real blood, the red blood of enemies, who will rebuild more splendidly than ever the palace of Solomon and the Temple. All the kings will bring tribute to Him, not tribute of love and reverence, but of massy gold and silver coin. This earthly King will revenge Himself on the enemies of Israel, on those who make Israel suffer, who hold the people of Israel in slavery. The slaves will be masters and the masters slaves, and all the countries of the world will have their capital at Jerusalem and crowned kings will kneel before the throne of the new king of Israel. The fields of Israel will be more fertile than all the others, their pastures richer, their flocks will multiply end¬ lessly, wheat and barley will be harvested twice a year, the ears of wheat will be heavier than in the past, and two men will bend under the v/eight of a single bunch of grapes. There will not be enough wine-skins to contain the vintage nor enough jars to hold all the oil, and honey will be found in the hollows of the trees and in the hedges of the roads. The branches of the trees will break under the weight of the fruit, and the fruit will be pulpy and sweet as it never was before. This is the Messiah expected by the Jews who surround Jesus. He knows He cannot give them what they seek, that He cannot be the victorious warrior and the proud king tower¬ ing up among subject kings. He knows that His kingdom is not of this earth and that He will be able to offer only a little bread, all Flis blood and all His love. They will not be¬ lieve in Him, will torture Him and will kill Him as a false pre¬ tender. He knows all that. He knows it as if He had seen it with His eyes and endured it with His body and soul. But He knows that the seed of His word thrown into the earth among thistles and thorns, trampled under foot by assassins, will start into life when spring comes. At first beaten down by the wind, little by little it will grow, until finally it becomes a tree stretching its branches up to the sky, covering the earth with the boughs. And all men can sit round about it, remembering the death of Him who planted it. 54 LIFE OF CHRIST THE PROPHET OF FIRE While Jesus, in the poor little work-shop at Nazareth, was handling the ax and the square, a voice was raised in the desert towards Jordan and the Dead Sea. Last of the Prophets, John the Baptist called the Jews to repent, announced the ap¬ proach of the Kingdom of Heaven, predicted the coming of the Messiah, reproved the sinners who came to him, and plunged them into the water of the river, that this outer washing might be the beginning of an inner purification. In that dark age of the Herods, old Judea profaned by the Idumean usurpers, contaminated by Greek infiltration, scorned by the Roman soldiery; without King, without unity, without glory; already half dispersed throughout the world; betrayed by their own priests; always remembering the gran¬ deur of their earthly kingdom of a thousand years ago; always obstinately hoping for a great vengeance, for a miraculous resurrection, for a return of victory in a triumph of its God, in the coming of a Saviour, of a liberator, of an anointed one who should reign in a new Jerusalem stronger and more beautiful than that of Solomon, and from Jerusalem dominate all the peoples, overcome all other monarchs, conquer all empires and bring happiness to its nation and to all men, — old Judea hating its masters, robbed by the publicans, plagued by the mercenary scribes and by the hypocritical Pharisees, old Judea divided, humiliated, plundered and yet in spite of all its shame full of faith for the future, willingly lent an ear to the voice of the desert, and hastened to the banks of the Jordan. John’s figure was one to conquer the imagination. A chHd sprung by a miracle from parents of great age, he was set apart from his birth to be Nazir — pure. He had never cut his hair, had never tasted wine or cider, had never touched a woman nor knov/n any love except that for God. While he was still young, he had left his parents’ home and buried himself in the desert. There he lived for many years alone, without a house, without a tent, without servants, with nothing of his own ex¬ cept what he had on his back. Wrapped in his camel’s skin, his flanks girt by a leather belt, tall, bony, baked by the sun, LIFE OF CHRIST 55 his chest hairy, his hair hanging long on his shoulders, his long beard almost covering his face, his piercing eyes flashed like lightning from under his busy eyebrows when from his mouth hidden by his beard burst out the tremendous words of his maledictions. This hypnotic wild man, solitary as a Yogi, despising pleas¬ ure like a stoic, seemed to those whom he baptized the last hope of a despairing people. Jesus heard the people talk of those ^^washed ones” who re¬ turned from Jordan and tbok up their former lives, as in the morning a garment is resumed which was thrown away with re¬ lief the evening before; and He understood that His day grew near. He was now in His thirtieth year, the right and destined age. Before he is thirty, a man is only a sketch, an approxi¬ mation, dominated by the common sentiments and common loves of all. He does not know men well, and hence cannot love them with that love, sweet with compassion, with which they should be loved. And without knowing them or knowing how to love them, he cannot speak with authority, cannot make himself heard, has not the power of saving them. THE FIRST ANNUNCIATION The desert sun burned John’s body and his fiery longing for the Kingdom burned like a flame in his soul. He was the foreteller of fire. He saw in the Messiah, soon to appear, the master of flame. The New King will be a fierce husbandman. Every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire. He will thoroughly purge His floor and gather His wheat into the garner, but He will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire. He will be a baptizer who will bap¬ tize with fire. Rigid, wrathful, harsh, shaggy, quick to insult, impatient and impetuous, John was not gentle with those who came to him. He took no satisfaction in having drawn them to take this first step towards repentance. When Pharisees and Saddu- cees, notable men, learned in the Scriptures, esteemed by the crowd, of authority in the temple came to be baptized, he 56 LIFE OF CHRIST shamed them more than the others. “O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth therefore fruits meet for repentance: And think not to say within yourselves, We have Abraham for our father: for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham.” You who lock yourselves up into houses of stonè as vipers hide themselves under the rocks, you Pharisees and Sadducees, are harder than stone: your minds are petrified in the letter and the rites of the law: your selfish hearts are stony: to the hungry who ask bread of you, you give a stone, and you throw the stone at him who has sinned less than you. You Pharisees and Sadducees, you are haughty statues of stone which only fire can conquer, since water poured over you is quickly dried up. But God, who from a handful of earth made Adam, could make from stones from the shore, with rocks from the cliff, other men, other living beings, other sons for Himself. He could change granite into flesh and soul, while you have changed soul and flesh into granite. It is not enough therefore to bathe in the Jordan. That ablution is holy and salutary. Change your life, do the opposite of what you have done until now, if you do not wish to be burned up by Plim, who will bap¬ tize by fire. “And the people asked him, saying. What shall we do then? He answereth and saith unto them. He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none, and he that hath meat, let him do likewise.” “Then came also publicans to be baptized and said unto him. Master, v/hat shall we do? And he said unto them. Exact no more than that which is appointed you. “And the soldiers likewise demanded of him, saying. And what shall we do? And he said unto them. Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely; and be content with your wages.” Compelling, almost superhuman when he announced the ter¬ rible separation of the good from the bad, John becomes com¬ monplace when he descends to particulars and falls, one might say, exactly into the Pharisean tradition. His only advice is to give alms, to give away the superfluous. From the publicans LIFE OF CHRIST 57 he asks only strict justice: let them take what has been allotted and nothing more. To the fierce, thieving tribe of soldiers, he recommends only discretion! ‘‘Be satisfied with your pay and do not rob.’’ This is nothing more or less than the Mosaic law. Long before him, Amos and Isaiah had gone further. Now is the time for the accuser of the Dead Sea to give way to the liberator of the Sea of Tiberias. The lot of precursors is hard: they know, but are not permitted to see; they arrive on the banks of the Jordan, but do not enjoy the promised land; they make plain the path for him who comes after them, but will pass beyond them. They prepare the throne and do not seat themselves on it. They are servants of the master whom often they do not meet face to face. Perhaps the fierce¬ ness of John is justified by this consciousness of being an am¬ bassador and nothing more. A consciousness which is never envious, but which leaves a tinge of sadness, even in his humil¬ ity. They came from Jerusalem to ask him who he was, “What then? Art thou Elias?” “No. I am not.” “Art thou that Prophet?” “And he answered. No.” “Art thou the Christ?” “No. . . . He said, I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness. . . . He it is, who coming after me is pre¬ ferred before me, whose shoe’s latchet I am not worthy to unloose.” At Nazareth, in the meantime, an unknown working man was lacing up His shoes with His own hands to go out to the wilderness, resounding with the voice which three times had thundered, “No.” THE VIGIL John called sinners to wash in the river before repenting. Jesus presented Himself to John to be baptized. Did He then acknowledge Himself a sinner? The texts are explicit: the prophet preached the baptism of repentance in remission of sins. He who went to him acknowl- 58 LIFE OF CHRIST edged himself a sinner; he who goes to wash, feels himself polluted. The fact that we know nothing of the life of Jesus from His twelfth to His thirtieth year, exactly the years of fallible adolescence, of hot-blooded youth, has given rise to the idea that He was in that period, or at least held Himself to have been, a sinner like other men. The three remaining years of His life are the most brightly lighted by the words of the four Gospels because in thinking of the dead, what we most vividly remember are their words and deeds during the last days of their lives. Nothing of what we know of those three years gives any indication of this supposed existence of sin in Christ’s life between the innocence of its beginning and the glory of its ending. There is not even the appearance of a conversion in Christ’s life. His first words have the same accent as the last. The spring from which they run is clear from the first day; there is no muddy sediment of evil. He begins with frank absolute certainty, with the recognizable authority of purity. You can feel that He has left nothing turbid back of Him. His voice is clear and limpid, a melodious song not roughened by the sour lees of voluptuous pleasure, or by the hoarseness of re¬ pentance. The transparent serenity of His look, of His smile and of His thought is not the calm which comes after the clouds of the tempest, or the uncertain whiteness of the dawn which slowly conquers the malign shadow of the night: it is the clearness of Him who was born only once, and remained a youth even into His maturity: the limpidity, the transpar¬ ency, the tranquillity, the peace of a day v/hich ends in night, but is not darkened until evening: eternal day, childhood intact and untarnished until death. He goes about among the impure with the natural simplicity of the poor among sinners, with the natural strength of the sound man among the sick, with the natural boldness of health. On the other hand, the man who has been converted is always at the back of his mind a little troubled. A single drop of bit¬ terness, a light shadow of impurity, a fleeting suggestion of temptation is enough to drive him back into anguish. He LIFE OF CHRIST 59 always feels a doubt that he may not have rid himself wholly of the old Adam, that he may not have wholly destroyed but only stunned the Other, who lived in his body. He has paid so much for his salvation, and it seems to him so precious but so frail, that he is always afraid of putting it into jeopardy or of losing it. He does not shun sinners, but he approaches them with an involuntary shudder, with a scarcely confessed fear of fresh contagion, a dread lest the sight of the vileness where he also took delight will rene# unbearably the recollection of his shame, will drive him to despair of his ultimate salvation. When a servant becomes a master he is never on familiar terms with his servants. When a poor man becomes rich he is not generous with the poor. A converted sinner is not al¬ ways a friend of sinners. That remnant of pride which sticks fast in the hearts even of saints mingles with his compassion. Why do sinners not do what he has done? The way is open to all, even to the wickedest, the most hardened: the prize is great, why do they remain down there, plunged in black Hell? And when the converted sinner speaks to his brothers to con¬ vert them, he cannot refrain from dwelling on his own experi¬ ence, his fall, his liberation. It may be only that he wishes to be helpful, rather than to vaunt himself, but in any case he is always eager to point to himself as a living and present ex¬ ample of the sweetness of salvation. The past can be renounced, but not destroyed. It reveals itself almost unconsciously in the very men who begin life with a second birth of repentance. In the story of Jesus no sign of a different way of life before conversion ever shows itself in ^ any allusion or in any implicit meaning, is not recognizable in the smallest of His acts, in the most obscure of His words. His love for sinners has nothing of the feverish obstinacy of the proselytizing penitent. It is a natural love, not a dutiful love. It is brotherly love without any implications of re¬ proach, spontaneous friendly fraternity needing to make no effort to overcome repugnance. It is the attraction towards the impure of the pure who has no fear of being soiled and knows that He can cleanse — disinterested love — ^love felt by the I saints in the supreme moments of their holiness — love beside 6o LIFE OF CHRIST which all other love seems vulgar — such love as no man saw before Jesus! Love which is rarely found again, and only in memory and in imitation of His love — ^love which will always be called Christian, and by any other name — ^never! Divine love — Christ’s love! Love! Jesus came among the sinners, but He was no sinner. He came to bathe in the water running before John, but He had no inner stain. The soul of Jesus was that of a child, so child¬ like as to outdo sages in wisdom and saints in sanctity. He was no rigorous Puritan. He never felt the terror of the morally shipwrecked man barely saved from destruction. He was no overscrupulous Pharisee. He knew what was sin and what was right and He did not lose the spirit in the laby¬ rinth of the letter. He knew life; He did not refuse life which though not a good in itself is a prerequisite condition of all good things. Eating and drinking are not wrong, nor looking at people, nor sending a friendly look to the thief lurking in the shade, nor to the woman who has colored her lips to hide the traces of unasked kisses. THE BAPTISM And yet Jesus came in the midst of a crowd of sinners to immerse Himself in the Jordan. The problem is not mys¬ terious for him who sees something beyond the most familiar meaning in the rite reinstituted by John. The case of Jesus is unique. The baptism of Jesus is like others superficially, but is justified in other ways. Baptism is not only a washing of the flesh as a symbol of the will to cleanse the soul, a remnant of the primitive analogy of water which washed away material stains and can wash away spiritual stains. This physical meta¬ phor is useful to the symbolism of the crowd, is a necessary ceremony for the carnal eye of the many who need a material help to believe in the immaterial. But it was not made for Jesus. He went to John that the prophecy of the precursor might be fulfilled. His kneeling down before the prophet of fire was a recognition of John’s quality of true announcer, of his worth LIFE OF CHRIST 6i as a loyal ambassador who has done his duty who can say now that his work is finished. Jesus submitting Himself to this symbolical investiture really invests John with the legitimate title of precursor. Jesus, about to begin a new epoch of His life, His true life, bore witness by His immersion in water to His willingness to die, but at the same time to His certainty that He would rise again. He did not go down to the Jordan to cleanse Himself, but to show that His second life was beginning and that He will not die, but only seem to die, just as He only seemed to be purified by the waters of the Jordan. THE DESERT As soon as Jesus emerged from the water He went into the desert. From the multitude to solitude! Until then He had lived among the waters and the fields of Galilee and in the green meadows along the Jordan. Now He went up on the rocky mountains whence no springs arise, where no seed sprouts, where the only living creatures are snakes. Until then He had lived among the working men of Nazareth, among John^s penitents; now He goes up on the solitary mountains where no human face is seen, where no human voice is heard. The New Man puts the desert between himself and humanity. The person who says, “woe to the solitary!’^ only gives the measure of his own cowardice. Society is a sacrifice, merito¬ rious in proportion to its hardness. For those rich in soul, soli¬ tude is a prize and not an expiation, a period of sure value, a time when inner beauty is created, a reconciliation with the absent. Only in solitude do we live with our peers, with those solitary souls who think the great-hearted thoughts which con¬ sole us in the absence of other consolations. The people who cannot endure solitude are the mediocre and the mean. They have nothing to offer, they are afraid of them¬ selves, of their own emptiness. They are condemned to the eternal solitude of their own minds, a desolate inner desert where the poisonous plants of waste lands are the only things to grow. They are restless, unquiet, dejected when they can- 62 LIFE OF CHRIST not forget themselves in others, deafen themselves with the words of others. They delude themselves with the factitious life of others who are in their turn deluded by it. They cannot live without mingling, a passive atom, in the streams which overflow every morning from the sewers of the cities. Jesus lived among men and He was to return among men because He loved them. But in the years to come He often hid Himself, to be alone, far even from His disciples. To love men, you need from time to time to depart from them: far from them, we draw near to them. The small soul remembers only the evil they have done him. His night is restless with bitterness and his mouth poisoned with anger. The great soul remembers benefits alone, and thankful for a few good deeds, forgets the great evils he has endured. Even those v/hich were not pardoned at the moment are blotted out from his heart, and having renewed his original love for his brothers, he goes back to men. For Jesus these forty days of solitude are the last of His preparation. For forty years the Jewish people (prophetic symbol of Christ) wandered in the desert before entering into the kingdom promised by God. For forty days Moses re¬ mained close to God to hear His laws; for forty days Elijah wandered in the desert fleeing the vengeance of the wicked queen. So also the time allotted to the new liberator before announc¬ ing the promised kingdom was forty days of close communion with God to receive the supreme inspiration. But even in the desert He was not to be entirely alone: about Him throughout the vigil will be animals and angels; beings inferior to man and beings superior; those who pull man down and those who lift him up; beings all matter, beings all spirit. Born an animal, man struggles to become an angel. He is matter changing by slow transmutation into spirit. If the animal gets the upper hand, man descends below the level of the beasts because he puts the remnants of his intelligence at the service of bestiality: if the angel conquers, man becomes the equal of angels, and instead of being a mere soldier in the army of God, partakes of divinity itself. But the fallen angel 63 LIFE OF CHRIST 41 condemned to wear the form of a beast is the astute and tena¬ cious enemy of all men who wish to climb that height from which he was cast down. Jesus is the enemy of the material world, of the bestial life of the many. He was born into the world in order that beasts should become men, and men be¬ come angels. He was born to change the world and to conquer it, to fight with the king of the world, that enemy of God and of men, the malign, the suborner, the seducer. He was born to drive Satan from the earth as His father drove him from Heaven. Therefore at the end of the forty days, Satan came into the desert to tempt his enemy. THE ADVERSARY Our slavery to matter is branded on our lives by the daily need of our bodies for food, and Jesus wished to conquer our slavery to matter. Whenever He shared human lives. He con¬ sented to eat and drink, because His friends did, because it is right to give to the flesh that which belongs to the flesh, and finally as a visible protest against the h3q3ocritical fasts of the Pharisees. The last act of His earthly mission was a supper, but the first after His baptism was a fast. Alone where His abstinence could not shame His simple-hearted companions, where it could not be confused with ostentatious piety. He for¬ got to eat. But after forty days He was hungry. Satan, tenacious and invisible, was waiting for this moment of material need, and seized on it. The Adversary spoke: ‘Hi thou be the Son of God command this stone that it be made bread.” The reproof was prompt: “It is written that man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God.” Satan did not admit a defeat, and from the top of a moun¬ tain showed Him all the kingdoms of the earth: “All this power will I give thee, and the glory of them: for that is delivered unto me; and to whomsoever I will I give it. If thou there¬ fore wilt adore me, all shall be thine.” And Jesus answered, “Get thee behind me, Satan: for it is 64 LIFE OF CHRIST written thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.’’ Then Satan took Him to Jerusalem and set Him on the pin¬ nacle of the Temple, “If thou be the Son of God cast thyself down from hence.” But Jesus answered quickly: “It is written; thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.” “And when the Devil had completed every temptation,” Luke goes on, “he departed from him for a season.” We shall see his return and his last effort. This dialogue seems at first sight only a bandying about of Scriptural texts. Satan and Jesus do not use their own words, but compete by means of quotations from the Scriptures. We seem to be listening to a theological dispute; but as a matter of fact it is the first Parable of the Gospels acted out and not put into words. It is not surprising that Satan should have come with the absurd hope of causing Jesus to fall. It is not surprising that Jesus since He was a man should have undergone temptation. Satan only tempts the great and pure. To the others he does not need even to murmur a word of invitation. They are already his, from their childhood on. He need give himself no trouble to win their allegiance, they are in his arms before he summons them And yet many of them do not know that he exists. He never has presented himself to them because they obey him from a distance. Thus, not having known him, they are ready to deny him. The devil’s cohorts do not believe in the devil. It was said of old that the devil’s shrewd¬ est ruse was to spread abroad the rumor of his death. He takes all forms, so beautiful sometimes that no one recognizes him. The Greeks, for instance, marvels of intelligence and elegance, had no place for Satan in their mythology, because all their Gods, when closely examined, show the horns of Satan under their crowns of laurel and grape leaves. Satanical is tyrannical and lustful Jove, adulterous Venus, Apollo the flayer, murderous Mars, drunken Dionysius. They were so astute, the gods of Greece, that they gave the people love-po- LIFE OF CHRIST 65 tions and distilled perfumes to keep them from detecting the stench of the evil that consumes the world. But if many do not know him and laugh at him as at a specter invented in church for the needs of penitents, there are some who cry out upon those who know him but do not follow him. He seduced the innocence of the first two created beings, he suborned David the strong, corrupted Solomon the wise, accused Job the righteous before the throne of God. Satan tempts and always will tempt all the saints who hide them¬ selves in the desert, all those who love God. The more we go away from him the closer he is; the higher we are, the more he rages to bring us low; he can soil only that which is clean and he gives no care to the filth which spontaneously ferments under the hot breath of animality. To be tempted by Satan is a proof of purity, a sign of greatness, and shows a man that he is on the upward path. He who has known Satan and has seen him face to face, may well have hope for him¬ self. More than any other, Jesus merited this consecration. Satan challenged Him twice and tempted Him once. He asked Him to transform dead matter into matter that gives life and to cast Himself down from a height so that God by saving Him should proclaim Him as His true son. He offered Him the possession and the glory of earthly kingdoms on condition that instead of serving God Jesus should promise to serve the Demon. He asks material bread and a material miracle of Him and promises Him material power. Jesus does not take up the challenge and refuses what is offered. He is not the fleshly, temporal Messiah, desired by the Jewish crowd, the material Messiah such as the Tempter in his baseness imagines Him. He did not come to bring food to bodies but food to souls, — truth, that living food. When His brothers, far from home, lack bread enough for their hunger. He will break the few loaves which His disciples bring and all will have enough and they will fill baskets with the remnants. But except in cases of necessity He will not be the distributor of that bread which comes from the earth and returns to earth. If He should change the stones of the street into bread, every 66 LIFE OF CHRIST one would follow Him through love of his own body and would pretend to believe everything He said. Even the dogs would come to His banquet. But this He does not wish. Those who follow Him must believe in His word in spite of hunger, grief and poverty. Thus those who wish to follow Him must leave behind them fertile fields, they must leave behind them money which can be changed into bread. They must go with Him without knapsack or payment, with one garment, and live like the birds of the air, husking ears of grain in the fields, or begging alms at house doors. One can live without terres¬ trial bread : a fig left on the tree among the leaves, a fish drawn frora the lake can take the place of bread. But no man can live without heavenly bread, if he wishes to escape eternal death, which is the portion of those who have never tasted it. Man does not live by bread alone, but by love, fervor, and truth, Jesus is ready to transform the Kingdom of Earth into the Kingdom of Heaven, furious bestiality into happy sanctity, but He does not deign to transform stones into bread, matter into other matter. For similar reasons Jesus refused the other challenge. Men love the wonderful, the visibly wonderful, the prodigy, the physical impossibility made possible before their eyes. They hunger and thirst after portents. They are ready to prostrate themselves before the wonder-worker even if he is an evil man or a charlatan. From Jesus they all asked for a Sign, meaning by that, a gigantic juggling feat; but He always refused. He did not wish to persuade by means of the miraculous. He consented to cure the sick— especially those sick in spirit and sinners — ^but He often avoided the occasion even for these miracles, and He begged those cured not to speak the name of their healer. And He never used this power for His own safety, not even at Gethsemane when Satan tempted Him to put away the cup of death from His lips, nor when He was nailed to the cross and Satan repeated his challenge by the mouth of the Jews. ‘Hf thou art the Son of God, come down from the cross and save , thyself In the night of His vigil and in the high noon of His death. He resisted Satan and had recourse to no miracle to save Himself. Men must believe LIFE OF CHRIST 67 Him in spite of all contrary evidence, believe in His divinity even when confronted with what seems His common humanity. It is no fit deed for Jesus needlessly to throw Himself down from the Temple; to bring an end to the pain of another with the sole purpose of conquering men, and fascinating them with wonder and terror; to put God to a test, to force Him as it were, to accomplish a rash and superfluous miracle, only in order that Satan may not win the infamous wager founded on sarcasm and on arrogance. Loving, it is to human hearts He wishes to speak; sublime in character, He wishes to bring sublimity into human lives; a pure spirit. He wishes to purify other spirits; deep-hearted, to light the flame of love in others; a great spirit, to bring greatness to little, mean, neglected souls. Instead of throwing Himself like a vulgar magician from the precipice which is below the Temple, He will go up from the Temple upon the Mount to give out from on high the beati¬ tudes of the Kingdom of Heaven. The offer of the Kingdoms of the Earth must have been horrible to Him, and still more the price that Satan asked. Satan has the right to offer what is his. The Kingdoms of the Earth are founded on force and maintained with deceit. They are Satan’s own country, they are his Paradise regained. Satan sleeps every night on the pillows of the powerful. They pay material tribute to him, and give him daily offerings in thought and deed. But Jesus could have taken away their Kingdoms from the Kings without bending knee to the Ad¬ versary. He had only to offer men bread without work. If like a juggling mountebank He had opened a public theater of popular miracles, the multitude would have acclaimed Him. Had He wished to seem the Messiah for whom the Jews had been longing during their dreary slavery. He could have cor¬ rupted them with plenty and with marvels. He could have made of every land a country of grace and enchantment and He could have occupied at once every seat of the procurators of Satan. But Jesus does not wish to be the restorer of the fallen king¬ dom, the conqueror of hostile empires. Authority is of little importance to Him and glory still less. The Kingdom which 68 LIFE OF CHRIST He announces and prepares has nothing in common with the Kingdoms of the Earth. His Kingdom is destined rather to bring to naught the Kingdoms of the Earth. The Kingdom of Heaven is in us. Any day when a soul has turned to righteous¬ ness the Kingdom of Heaven is enlarged because it has ac¬ quired a new citizen, snatched from the Kingdom of Earth. When every one is good and righteous, when all love their brothers as fathers love their sons, when even enemies love one another (if there still are enemies), when no one thinks of amassing treasure, and instead of taking away from others, every one gives bread to the hungry and clothing to those who are cold, — where on that day will be the Kingdom of the Earth? Where will be the need for soldiers when no one wishes to enlarge his own land by stealing that of his neighbor? What need will there be for Kings when every one has his law in his conscience and when there are no armies to command nor judges to select? What need will there be for money and for tribute when every one is sure of his living and satisfied with it, and there are no wages to be paid to soldiers and serv¬ ants? When every one’s soul is transformed, those so-called foundations of life which are named Society, Country and Jus¬ tice will vanish like the hallucinations of a long night. The word of Christ needs neither money nor armies. And if it really becomes the universal life of the conscience, everything that binds and blinds men, necessary unjust power, the criminal glory of battles, will fall like morning mists before sunlight and wind. The Kingdom of Heaven within is One and it will take the place of the Kingdoms of Earth, which are many. The liberated spirit will scarcely remember despotic matter. Men will no longer be divided into Kings and subjects, masters and slaves, rich and poor, the arrogantly virtuous, the humble sinners, free and prisoners. The sun of God will shine on all, the citizens of the Kingdom will be one family of fathers and brothers and the gates of Paradise will be open again to the sons of Adam become as gods. Jesus conquered Satan in Himself and now came out of the desert to conquer him among men. LIFE OF CHRIST 69 THE RETURN As soon as Jesus came again among men, He learned that the Tetrarch (second husband of Herodias) had imprisoned John in the fortress of Machaerus. The voice crying in the wilderness was stilled and pilgrims to the Jordan saw no more the long shadow of the wild Baptizer fall across the water. He had done his work and was now to give way to a more powerful voice. John waited in the blackness of the prison until his bloody head was carried on a golden platter to the banquet — almost the last dish served to that evil woman, be¬ trayer of men. Now Jesus understands that His day is at hand, and crossing Samaria He returns into Galilee to announce at once the coming of the Kingdom. He does not go to Jerusalem, the city of the great king, the capital. Jesus comes to destroy that Jerusalem of stone and arrogance, proud on its three hills, hard of heart like the stones. The men whom Jesus comes to combat are precisely those who glory in great cities, in the capitals, in the Jerusalems of the world. At Jerusalem live the powerful of the world, the Romans, masters of the world and of Judea, with their soldiers in arms. Jerusalem is ruled by the representatives of the Caesars; of Tiberius, the drunken assassin, the perfidious heir of Augustus, the hypocritical voluptuary, and of Julius the adulterous spendthrift. At Jerusalem live the High Priests, the old cus¬ todians of the Temple, the Pharisees, Sadducees, Scribes, the Levites and their guards, the descendants of those who pur¬ sued and killed the prophets, the petrifiers of the Law, the bigots of the letter, the haughty depositories of arid fanaticism. At Jerusalem are the treasurers of God, the treasurers of Caesar, the guardians of- the treasure, the lovers of wealth; the Publicans with their excisemen and parasites, the rich with their servants and their concubines, the merchants with their crowded shops; money bags clinking with shekels in the warmth of the bosom above the heart. Jesus comes to combat all these. Fie comes to conquer the 70 LIFE OF CHRIST masters of the earth — the earth which belongs to all; to con¬ found the masters of the word — the word which should be spoken freely wherever God wishes; to condemn the masters of gold, base, perishable and fatal element. He comes to over¬ throw the kingdom of the soldiers of Rome who oppress bodies; the kingdom of the priests of the Temple who oppress souls; the kingdom of the heapers-up of money who oppress the poor. He comes to save bodies, souls, the poor; He teaches liberty, in opposition to Rome; setting at naught the doctrines of the Temple, He teaches love; He teaches poverty against all the ideals of the rich. He does not wish to begin His message in Jerusalem where His enemies, gathered together, are the strongest. He wishes to surround the city, take it from the outside, arrive there later with a following behind Him, when already the Kingdom of Heaven has begun slowly to lay siege to it. The Conquest of Jerusalem will be the last test, the supreme trial, the great battle, the tremendous battle between the greater than the Prophets and Jerusalem, slayer of Prophets. If He should go to Jerusalem now (where He will enter presently as a king and whence He will be buried as a criminal) He would be taken prisoner at once and would not be able to sow His word on less ungrateful, less stony soil. Jerusalem like all capitals — great sewers to which flow the refuse, the outcasts, the rubbish of the nations — is inhabited by a mob of frivolous, elegant, idle, skeptical and indifferent people, by a ceremonious patrician class who have kept only the tradition of ritual and the sterile rancor of their decadence; by an aristocracy of property owners and speculators who be¬ long to the herd of Mammon, and by a rebellious, restless, igno¬ rant crowd, controlled only by the superstition of the Temple and the fear of the foreigner’s sword. Jerusalem was not fit soil for the sowing of Jesus. A man from the provinces, — therefore healthy and solitary — He goes back to His province. He wishes to carry the tidings of good news to those who were to be the first to receive Him, to the poor and the humble because the tidings are specially for them, because they have long been waiting for them, and LIFE OF CHRIST 71 because more than any others, they will rejoice. Jesus’ coming into the world is for the poor. Therefore leaving Jerusalem, He arrives in Galilee, enters into the Synagogue and begins to teach. THE REIGN OF GOD The first words of Jesus are few and simple, very much like those of John, “The time is accomplished; the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe the Gospel.” Bare words, incomprehensible to moderns by their very so¬ briety. To understand them and to understand the difference between the message of John and the message of Jesus, they need to be translated into our language, filled again with their eternally living meaning. “The time has come ! ” The time for which men have been waiting, which they have prophesied and announced. John said that a King would come ready to found the new King¬ dom, the Kingdom of Heaven. The King has come and an¬ nounces that the doors of the Kingdom are open. He is the guide, the path, the hand, before being King in all the splendor of His celestial glory. When Jesus says “The time is accomplished,” he does not refer to the exact date, to the fact that it was the fif¬ teenth year of the reign of Tiberius. The time of Jesus is now and always is eternity. The moment of His appearance, the moment of His death, the moment of His return, the moment of His perfect triumph, has not yet arrived, not even yet! And yet, at every moment the time is accomplished, every hour is the fullness of time, on condition that the workers are ready. Every day is His; His era is not written down in numbers: there is no chronology in eternity. Every time a man tries to enter into the Kingdom, confirms the Kingdom by believing, enriches the Kingdom, consolidates, defends, pro¬ claims its perpetual sanctity and its perpetual rightness in op¬ position to all the inferior kingdoms (inferior because they are human, not divine, earthly not heavenly) then always the time is accomplished. This time is called the epoch of Jesus, the Christian era, the New Covenant. Not quite two thousand 72 LIFE OF CHRIST years divides us from that time; not quite two days, because for God, and for men of understanding, a thousand years are as a day. The time is ripe; even to-day we are in the full¬ ness of time. Jesus calls us even now. The second day has not yet expired, the foundations of the Kingdom are scarcely begun. We who live to-day, this year, in this century (and we shall not always be alive, and we shall perhaps not see the end of this year, and certainly we shall not see the end of this century), we, I say, the living, can take part in this Kingdom, enter into it, live in it, enjoy it. The Kingdom is not the worn- out fancy of a poor Jew nearly twenty centuries ago; it is not an archaism, a dead memory, a bygone frenzy. The Kingdom is of to-day, of to-morrow, of always; a reality of the future al¬ ways just-realized, alive, actual, ours; a work started a short time ago, a work to which every one is free to put his hand to take it up, to carry it on. The word seems old, the message dim with antiquity repeated by the echoes of two thousand years, but the Kingdom — as a fact, true, accomplished — is new, young, born yesterday, still to grow, to flower, to pros¬ per. Jesus threw the seed into the earth, but the seed has scarcely germinated in two thousand years passed like a stormy winter, in the space of sixty human generations. Is it perhaps possible that our own time after the flood of blood is the divine and longed-for period? What this Kingdom is, we shall learn page by page in the words of Jesus; but we must not imagine it as a new Paradise of Delight, as a wearisome Arcady of beatitude, as an immense choir singing Hosannahs with their feet on the clouds and their heads among the stars. Christ describes the Kingdom of God as opposed to the King¬ dom of Satan, as the antithesis of the Kingdom of Earth. The Kingdom of Satan is the Kingdom of evil, of deceit, of cruelty, of pride, the Kingdom of baseness. Therefore the Kingdom of God means the Kingdom of good, of sincerity, of love, of humil¬ ity, the Kingdom of the lofty. The Kingdom of Earth is the Kingdom of matter and of flesh, the Kingdom of gold, hatred, avarice, sensuality, the Kingdom of all things loved by evil and distraught men. The LIFE OF CHRIST 73 Kingdom of Heaven is to be the opposite of this: the Kingdom of the spirit and of the soul, the Kingdom of renunciation and of purity; the Kingdom of all things valued by men who know the worthlessness of everything else in comparison. God is Father and Goodness; Heaven is above the earth, hence it is the spirit. Heaven is God’s home. The spirit is the dominion of goodness. All that crawls on the earth, grubs in the earth, takes pleasure in matter — that is bestiality; all that lives with upraised eyes, desiring Heaven, wishing to live forever in Heaven — that is Holiness. Most men are beasts. It is Christ’s will that these beasts become saints. This is the simple and ever-living meaning of the Kingdom of God, and the Kingdom of Heaven. The Kingdom of God is of men and for men. The Kingdom of Heaven is in us. Begin at once: it is our work, for our happiness in this life on this earth. It depends on our will, on our response given or withheld. Become perfect and the Kingdom will extend even on earth. The Kingdom of God will be founded among men. It is true that Jesus added “repent,” but the old word has II been distorted from its true and magnificent meaning. The I ^ word of Mark — jjLeravoeite — should not be translated “re- Ipent”; pisravota means rather the changing of the mind, the transformation of the soul. Metamorphosis is a change of form; “metanoia,” a changing of the spirit. It ought rather to Ì translated “conversion,” that is, the renewing of the inner life of man. The idea of “repentance” is only an illustration of Christ’s command. As one of the conditions of the arrival of the Kingdom and at the same time as the very substance of the new order, Jesus demands complete conversion, a revolution of life and of the common ^7alues of life, a transmutation of feelings, of opinions, |of intentions. This He called, speaking to Nicodemus, “the [Second birth.” Little by little He was to explain in what way this total transformation of the ordinary human soul is to be iieffected. All His life was devoted to this teaching and to setting Jlthe example. But in the meantime. He contented Himself ijwith adding one conclusion, “Believe in the Gospel.” 74 LIFE OF CHRIST By “Gospel” men nowadays mean usually the book where the quadruple story of Jesus is printed; but Jesus neither wrote books nor thought of volumes. By “Gospel” He meant, accord¬ ing to the plain and sweet meaning of the word, “good tidings.” Jesus is a messenger (in Greek “angel”) who brings good tidings: He brings the cheerful message that the sick will be cured, that the blind will see, the poor will be enriched with imperishable riches, that the sad will rejoice, that sinners will be pardoned, the unclean purified, that the imperfect can become perfect, that animals can become saints, and saints be¬ come angels, like unto God. If this Kingdom is to come, if everybody is to prepare him¬ self for its coming, we must believe in the message, believe that the Kingdom is possible and near. If there is no faith in this promise, no one will do what must be done to fulfill the promise. Only the certainty of the truth of this good tidings, only the conviction that the Kingdom is not the lie of an adventurer or the hallucination of an obsessed zealot; only the certainty of the sincerity and validity of the message can arouse men to put their hands to the great work of its foundation. With those few words, obscure to the majority of men, Jesus began His teaching. The fullness of time, the need to begin at once! The coming of the Kingdom, victory of spirit over matter; of good over bad, of the saint over the beast. “Metanoia” — the total transformation of the soul. The Gospel — the cheerful assurance that all this is true and eter¬ nally possible. CAPERNAUM Jesus taught His Galileans on the threshold of their shabby little white houses, on the small shady open places of their cities or the shore of the lake, leaning against a beached boat. His feet on the stones, towards evening when the sun sank red in the west, summoning men to rest. Many listened to Him and followed Him because, says Luke: “His word was with authority.” The words were not wholly new, but the man was new, and new was the LIFE OF CHRIST 75 warmth of His voice, and the good done by that voice, overflow¬ ing from His heart and going straight to the hearts of others. The accent of those words was new, and new the sense that they took in that mouth, lighted by His look. Here was no prophet of the mountains shouting in waste places, far from men, solitary, distant, forcing others to come to him if they wished to hear him. Here was a prophet living like a man among other men, a friend of all, friendly to the unfriended, an easy-going and companionable comrade, search¬ ing out His brothers where they work in the houses, in the busy streets, eating their bread and drinking wine at their tables, lending a hand with the fisherman’s nets, with a good word for every man, for the sad, for the sick, for the beggar. The simple-hearted, like animals and children, know in¬ stinctively who loves them, they believe him, are happy when he comes (their very faces suddenly transfigured) and are sad when he goes. Sometimes they cannot bring themselves to leave him and follow him to the death. Jesus spent His time with them walking from one region to another, or talking, seated among His friends. Always dear to Him was the sunny shore of the lake, along the curve of quiet clear water scarcely ruffled by the wind from the desert, dotted with a few boats silently tacking back and forth. The western coast of the lake was His real Kingdom; there He found His first listeners. His first converts. His first disciples. If He returned to Nazareth, He stayed there but a short i time. He was to go back later, accompanied by the Twelve and preceded by the renown of His miracles, and they were to treat Him as all the cities of the world, — even the most re¬ nowned for amenity, Athens and Florence, have treated those of their citizens who made them great above others. After ridiculing Him (they had seen Him as a child, it is out of the i question that He can have become a great prophet) they tried to cast Him down from the precipice. In no city did He make a long stay. Jesus was a wanderer, such a man as is called a vagabond by the pot-bellied and sedentary citizen rooted to his threshold. His life is an eter¬ nal journey. Before that other Jew who was condemned to LIFE OF CHRIST 76 immortality by one condemned to death, He is the true Wan¬ dering Jew. He was born on a journey. Still a baby at the breast, He was carried along the sun-parched road to Egypt; from Egypt He came back to the waters and greenness of Galilee. From Nazareth He often went to Jerusalem for the Passover. The voice of John called Him to the Jordan: an inner voice drove Him out into the desert; and after the forty days of hunger and the Temptation, He began His restless vagabond life from city to city, from village to village, from mountain to mountain, across Palestine. Most often we find Him in Galilee, in Capernaum, Chorazin, in Cana, in Magdala, in Tiberias, but often He crosses Samaria to sit down near the well of Sychar. We find Him from time to time in the Tetrarchy of Philip at Bethsaida, at Gadara, at Csesarea, also at Gerasa in the Perea of Herod Antipas. In Judah He often stops at Bethany, a few miles away from Jerusalem, or at Jericho, but He did not shrink from journeying outside the limits of the old kingdom and from going down among the Gentiles. We find Him in Phoenicia, in the regions of Tyre and Sidon, and in Syria, if the transfiguration took place on the summit of Mt. Hermon. After the resurrection He appears in Emmaus, on the banks of His lake of Tiberias and finally at Bethany near Lazarus’ house, where He leaves His friends forever. He is the traveler without rest, the wanderer with no home, the wayfarer for love’s sake, the voluntary exile in His own country; He says Himself that He has not a stone on which to lay His head, and it is true that He has no bed where He may lie down at night, nor a room that He can call His own. His real home is the road which takes Him along with His first friends in search of new friends. His bed is the furrow in a field, the bench of a boat, the shadow of an olive tree. Sometimes He sleeps in the houses of those who love Him, but only for short periods. In the early days we find Him most often at Capernaum, His journeys began there and ended there. Matthew calls it ^‘His city.” Situated on the caravan route which from Damas¬ cus crosses Iturea and goes towards the sea, Capernaum had LIFE OF CHRIST 77 become little by little a commercial center of some importance. Artisans, bargainers, brokers, and shopkeepers had come there to stay. Men of finance — as flies swarm on rotten pears — had come there; publicans, excise men and other fiscal tools. The little settlement, half-rustic, half a fishing village, had become a mixed and composite city where the society of the times — even to soldiers and prostitutes — was fully represented. And yet Capernaum, lying along the lake, freshened by the air from the near-by hills and by the breeze from the water, was not a prey to stagnation and decay like the Syrian cities and Jerusalem. There were still peasants who went out to their fields every day, and fishermen who every day went forth to their boats. Good, poor, simple, warm-hearted people who talked of other matters than money and gear. Among them a man could draw his breath freely. On the Sabbath Jesus went to the Synagogue. Everybody had the right to enter there, to read aloud and also to expoimd what had been read. It was a plain house, a bare room where people went with their friends and brothers to reason together and dream of God. Jesus stood up, had some one give Him one of the scrolls of the Scriptures (more often the Prophets than the Law) and recited in a tranquil voice two, three, four or more verses. Then He commenced to speak with a bold and forceful elo¬ quence which put the Pharisees to confusion, touched sinners, won the poor, and enchanted women. Suddenly the old text was transfigured, became transparent, belonged to their own times; it seemed a new truth, a discovery they had made, a discourse heard for the first time; the words withered by antiquity, dried up by repetition, took on life and color; a new sun gilded them one by one, syllable by syllable; fresh words coined at that moment, shining before their eyes like an unexpected revelation. POOR PEOPLE Nobody in Capernaum could remember having heard such a Rabbi. The Sabbaths when Jesus spoke, the Synagogue was I LIFE OF CHRIST 78 full, the crowd overflowed out on the street, everybody was there who could come. The gardener comes, who for that day had left his spade, and no longer turned his water wheel to irrigate the green rows of his garden, and the smith, the good country smith, black with smoke and dust every day, but on the Sabbath washed, neatly dressed, his face still a little dusky, although scrubbed and rinsed in many waters like his hands, with his beard combed and anointed with cheap ointment (but still perfumed like a rich man’s beard), the smith all whose days are spent before the fire, sweaty and dirty except this day which is the Sabbath, when he comes to the Synagogue to hear the ancient word of the Ancient of Days, the God of his fathers. He comes devoutly, but he comes too because his family, his friends, his neighbors come there, and he finds them all together, and he comes also because the day is long (all that long holiday without any work, without any hammer in his hand, without the pincers) and in Capernaum there is nothing to do on Sabbaths except go to the Synagogue. The mason comes, he who has worked on this little house of the Synagogue and made it small because the Elders — good. God¬ fearing people, but inclined to be stingy — did not wish to spend too much. The mason still feels his arms a little numb and lame from his six days’ labor, no longer keeps track of the stones which he has laid in courses and the trowels full of mor¬ tar which he has thrown between the stones during the week. The mason puts on his new clothes to-day and sits down on the ground, he who on all other days stands upright, active, watchful so that the work may go well, and the employer be satisfied; the good mason too has come to the house which seems to him partly his own. The fishermen have come too, the young and the old, both of them with faces tanned by the sun and with eyes half-shut from the constant glare of sunlight reflected by the water. (The old man is handsomer because of the contrast of his white hair and white beard with his weather-beaten and wrinkled face.) The fishermen have turned over their boats on the sand, have left them tied to a stake, have spread the nets on the roof and have come to the Synagogue, although they are LIFE OF CHRIST 79 not used to being within walls and perhaps continue to hear a confused murmur of water lapping about the bow. The peasants of the neighboring countryside are here too, prosperous farmers who have put on a tunic as good as any¬ body’s, who are satisfied with the harvest almost ready for the scythe. They do not mean to forget God who brings the grain to a head and makes the grape-vine to blossom. There are shepherds come in to town that morning, shepherds and goat-herds with the smell of their flocks still on them, shepherds who live all the week in the mountain-pastures with¬ out seeing a soul, without exchanging a word, alone with their quiet animals peacefully grazing on the new grass. The smaller property owners, the small business men, the gentry of Capernaum, all have come. They are men of weight and piety. They stand in the front row, serious, their eyes cast down, satisfied with the business of the last few days I and satisfied with their conscience because they have observed ' the law without failing and are not contaminated. The line ' of their well-clad backs can be seen, bowed backs but broad and masterful, employers’ backs, backs of people in harmony ! with the world, and with God, backs full of authority and 1 of religion. There are also transient foreigners, merchants going towards Syria or returning to Tiberias. They have come from condescension or from habit, perhaps to try to pick up a customer, and they stare into everybody’s face with the ' arrogance which money gives to poverty-stricken souls. At the back of the room (for the Synagogue is only a long I white-washed room a little larger than a school, than an inn, (I than a kitchen) the poor of the countryside are huddled to- : gether like dogs near a door, like those who always stand in I fear of being sent away. The poorest of all, those who live ' by odd jobs, by ungracious charity and also — oh, poverty! — V by some discreet theft, the ragged, the vermin-ridden, the I timid, the wretched; old widows whose children are far away, • young orphans not yet able to earn a living, hump-backed old : men with no acquaintances, strengthless invalids, those who are : incurably sick, those whose wits no longer rightly serve them, who have no understanding, who cannot work. The weak in I à ( 8o LIFE OF CHRIST mind, the weak in body, the bankrupt, the rejected, the aban¬ doned, those who one day eat and the next day do not, who never have enough to satisfy their hunger, those who pick up what others throw away, the pieces of dry bread, fish- heads, fruit-cores and skins; and sleep now here and now there, and suffer from the winter cold and every year wait for summer, paradise of the poor, for then there are fruits to be plucked along the roads. They too, the beggars, the wretched, the ragamuffins, the sickly and the weaklings, when the Sabbath comes, go to the Synagogue to hear the stories of the Bible. They cannot be sent away: they have as much right to be there as any one, they are sons of the same Father and servants of the same Lord. On that day they feel a little comforted in their poverty because they can hear the same words heard by the rich and the strong. Here they are not served with another sort of food, poorer and coarser, as happens in the houses where the owner eats the best and the beggar on the threshold must content himself with scraps. Here the fare is the same for the man of possessions and him who has nothing. The words of Moses are the same, everlast¬ ingly the same for him who owns the fattest flock and for him who has not even a quarter of lamb on Passover day. But the words of the Prophets are sweeter to them than those of Moses, harder on the great of the world, but kinder for the humble. The poverty-stricken throng at the back of the Syna¬ gogue waits every Sabbath for somebody to read a chapter from Amos or from Isaiah because the Prophets take the part of the poor, and announce the punishment and the new world. “And he who was clothed with purple shall be made to handle dung.’’ And behold on that Sabbath there was One who came ex¬ pressly for them, who talked for them, who had come back from the desert to announce good tidings for the poor and the sick. No one had ever spoken of them as He did, no one had shown so much love for them. Like the old prophets. He had for them a special affection which offended more fortunate men, but which filled their hearts with comfort and hope. LIFE OF CHRIST 8i When Jesus had finished speaking they observed that the elders, the bourgeois, the masters, lords, Pharisees, men who knew how to read and make money, shook their heads fore¬ bodingly, and got up, making wry faces and nodding among themselves, half contemptuous, half scandalized; and as soon as they were outside, muttered a grumbling of prudent disap¬ probation through their great black and silver beards. But no one laughed. The merchants followed them, erect, already thinking of the next day; there remained behind the working men, the poor, the shepherds, the peasants, the gardeners, the smiths, the fish¬ ermen, and all the herd of beggars, orphans without inherit¬ ance, old men without health, homeless outcasts, friendless un¬ fortunates, penniless men, the diseased, the maimed, the worn- out, the rejected. They could not take their eyes from Jesus, they would have liked Him to go on speaking, to reveal the day of the New Kingdom when they too would have their re¬ turn for all this misery, and see with their own eyes the day of reckoning. The words of Jesus had made their bruised and weary hearts beat faster. A gleam of light, a glimpse of the sky and of glory, the hallucination of prosperity, of ban¬ quets, of repose and abundance, sprang up from those great words in the rich souls of the poor. Perhaps they scarcely understood what the Master meant to say, and perhaps the Kingdom glimpsed by them had some resemblance to a ma¬ terialistic Land of Cockaigne. But no one loved Flim as they did. No one will ever love Him like the poor of Galilee, hungering after peace and truth. Even those who were less destitute, the day-laborers, the fishermen, the working men, though less hungry for bread, loved Him for the love of those poor. And when He came out from the Synagogue all those stood waiting in the street to see Him again. They followed Him timidly as if in a dream; when He entered into the house of a friend to eat they were almost jealous and some waited out¬ side the door until He reappeared; then, grown more bold, they accosted Him and went along together beside the shores of the lake. Others joined them on the way, and now one and now 82 LIFE OF CHRIST another (they were braver under the open sky and outside the Synagogue) began asking questions. And Jesus paused and answered this obscure crowd with words never to be for¬ gotten. THE FIRST FOUR Among the fishermen of Capernaum, Jesus found His first disciples. Almost every day He was on the beach of the lake; sometimes the boats were going out, sometimes they were coming in, the sails swelling in the breeze; and from the barks the barefooted men climbed down, wading knee-deep in water, carrying the baskets filled with the wet silver of dead fish piled together, good and bad, and with the old dripping nets. They put out sometimes at nightfall when there was a moon, and came back early in the morning just after the setting of the moon and before sunrise. Often Jesus was waiting for them on the strand and was the first to greet them. But the fishing was not always good, sometimes they came back empty- handed, tired and depressed. Jesus greeted them with words which cheered them, and the disappointed men, although they had not slept, listened to Him willingly. One morning two boats came back towards Capernaum while Jesus standing by the lake was talking to the people who had gathered around Him. The fishermen disembarked and began to arrange the nets; then Jesus entered into one of the boats and asked them to put it out a little from the land so that He might not be pressed upon by the crowd. Upright near the rudder He taught those who had remained on the land, and when He had left speaking He said to Simon, “Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught.” And Simon, son of Jona, owner of the boat, answered, “Mas¬ ter, we have toiled all the night and have taken nothing, nevertheless at thy word, I will let down the net,” When they were only a short distance from the bank, Simon and Andrew, his brother, threw out into the water a large net. And when they drew it back it was so full of fish that the meshes were almost breaking. Then the two brothers called their partners in the other boat, that they should come to help LIFE OF CHRIST 83 them, and they threw out the, net again and drew it up again full. Simon, Andrew and the others cried out “a miracle!” and thanked Jesus, who had brought them this good luck. Simon, impulsive by nature, threw himself at the knees of their guest crying, ^^Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” But Jesus, smiling, said, ‘Tollow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” When they went back to the shore they pulled the boat up on the land, and leaving their nets, the two brothers fol¬ lowed Him. And a few days after this, Jesus saw the other two brothers, James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners of Simon and Andrew, and he called them, while they were mending the broken nets; and they too said farewell to their father, who was in the boat with the sailors, and leaving the broken nets half-mended, followed Him. Jesus was no longer alone: four men, two pairs of brothers more deeply brothers in this common faith, v/ere ready to accompany Him wherever He wished to go, to break bread with Him, to repeat His words, to obey Him as a father, and more than a father. Four poor fishermen, four plain men of the lake, men who did not know how to read, nor indeed how to speak correctly, four humble men whom no one else would have been able to dis¬ tinguish from others, were called by Jesus to found with Him a kingdom which was to occupy all the earth. For Him they left their faithful boats which they had put out into the water so many times, and so many times tied up to the wharf; they left the old fish nets which had drawn from the water thousands of fish; they left their father, their family, their home. They left all that to follow this man who did not promise money or lands and spoke only of love, of poverty and perfection. Thus if their spirit always remained too low to understand their master, always a little rustic and common, and if sometimes they doubted and were uncertain and did not understand His truths and His parables, and at the end abandoned Him, all will be pardoned to them for the candid, unquestioning promptness with which they followed Him at the first call. / LIFE OF CHRIST Who among us to-day, among all those now living, would be capable of imitating those four poor men of Capernaum? If a prophet should come and say to the merchant, ‘Tea ve your bank and your counter”; and to the Professor, “Come down from your chair and throw away your books”; and to the statesman, “Give up your portfolios and your lies which are only nets for catching men”; and to the working man, “Put away your tools for I will give you other work”; and to the farmer, “Stop in the middle of the furrow and leave your plow among the clods, for I promise you a more wonderful harvest”; and to the factory hand, “Stop your machine and come with me, for spirit is more precious than metal”; and to the rich, “Give away all your goods, for you will acquire with me an inestimable treasure”; ... if a prophet should speak thus to us, men of the present day, how many would follow him with the simple-hearted spontaneity of those fishermen of old? But Jesus made no sign to the merchants who stood trafficking in the open places, and in the shops, nor to those who observed the tiniest commands of the law and could re¬ cite by heart verses from the Bible, nor to the farmers rooted to their land and their live-stock, and certainly not to the affluent, surfeited, satisfied, who care nothing about any other kingdoms because their kingdom has long since been realized. Not by chance did Jesus select His first companions from among fishermen. The fisherman who lives a great part of his days in the pure solitude of the water is the man who knows how to wait. He is the patient, unhurried man who lets down his nets and leaves the rest to God. The water has its caprices, the lake its fantasies, no day is like another day; he does not know when he goes away if he will come back with his boat full or without a single fish to cook for his dinner. He commends himself into the hands of God, who sends abundance and famine. He consoles himself for bad days by thinking of the good days which have been and which will come. He does not desire sudden riches, and is glad if he can exchange the results of his fishing for a little bread and wine. He is pure in soul and body. He washes his hands in water and his spirit in solitude. LIFE OF CHRIST 85 Of these fishermen who would have died in the obscurity of Capernaum without any one except their neighbors being aware of them, Jesus made saints whom men even to-day re¬ member and invoke. A great man creates great men; from a somnolent people he raises up prophets; from a debilitated people, warriors; from an ignorant race, teachers. In any weather fires are lighted if there is a hand capable of kindling them. When David appears he finds at once his gibborim; an Agamemnon finds his heroes, an Arthur his knights, Charlemagne his paladins, Napoleon his Marshals. Jesus found among the men of the people of Galilee, His apostles. Jesus did not seek armed warriors, men who would lay their enemies low, conquerors of provinces. His apostles were to fight, but the good fight of perfection against corruption, holi¬ ness against sin, health against sickness, spirit against matter, the happy future against the past, henceforth sterile. They were to aid Him in bringing His joyous message to the heavy- hearted. They were to speak in His name in places where He could not go, and in His name to carry on His work after His death. THE MOUNT The Sermon on the Mount is the greatest proof of the right of men to exist in the infinite universe. It is our sufficient justification, the patent of our soul’s worthiness, the pledge that we can lift ourselves above ourselves to be more than men, the promise of that supreme possibility, the hope of our rising above the beast. If an angel come down to us from the world above should ask us what our most precious possession is, the master-work of the Spirit at the height of its power, we would not show him the great wonderful oiled machines of which v/e fool¬ ishly boast, although they are but matter in the service of material and superfluous needs; but we would offer him the Sermon on the Mount, and afterwards, only afterwards, a few hundred pages taken from the poets of all the peoples. But the Sermon would be always the one refulgent diamond 86 LIFE OF CHRIST dimming with the clear splendor of its pure light the colored poverty of emeralds and sapphires. And if men were called before a superhuman tribunal and had to give an account to the judges of ail the inexplicable mistakes and of the ancient infamies every day renewed, and of the massacres which last for a thousand years, and of all the bloodshed between brothers, and of all the tears shed by the children of men, and of our hardness of heart and of our perfidy only equaled perhaps by our stupidity; we should not bring before this tribunal the reasonings of the philosophers, however learned and fine-spun; not the sciences, ephemeral systems of symbols and recipes; nor our laws, short-sighted compromises between ferocity and fear. The only thing we should have to show as restitution for so much evil, as atone¬ ment for our stubborn tardiness in paying our debts, as apology for sixty centuries of hideous history, as the one and supreme attenuation of all those accusations, is the Sermon on the Mount. Who has read it, even once, and has not felt at least in that brief moment while he read, a thrill of grateful tenderness, and an ache in his throat, a passion of love and remorse, a confused but urgent longing to act — so that those words shall not be words alone, nor this sermon mere sounds and signs, but so that they shall be imminent hope, life, alive in all those who live, present truth for always and for every one? He who has read it, if only once, and has not felt all this, he deserves our love beyond all other men, because all the love of men can never make up to him for what he has lost. The Mount on which Jesus sat the day of the sermon was certainly not so high as that from which Satan had shown Him the Kingdoms of the earth. From it you could see only the plain, calm under the loving sunset light; on one side the silver-green oval of the lake, and on the other the long crest of Carmel where Elijah overcame the scullions of Baal. But from this humble mount which only the hyperbole of the chroniclers called mountain, from this little rocky hill scarcely rising above the level earth, Jesus disclosed that Kingdom which has no confines or boundaries, and wrote not LIFE OF CHRIST 87 on tablets of stone like Jehovah, but on flesh-and-blood hearts, the song of the new man, the hymn of glorification. ^^How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace!” Isaiah was never more a prophet than at the moment when these words poured from his soul. BLESSED ARE THE POOR Jesus sat on a little hill in the midst of the first apostles surrounded by hundreds of eyes that were watching His eyes; and some one asked Him to whom would be allotted this Kingdom of Heaven, of which He so often spoke. Jesus answered with the nine beatitudes. The beatitudes, so often spelled out even nowadays by people who have lost their meaning, are almost always mis¬ understood, mutilated, deformed, cheapened, distorted. And yet they epitomize the first day of Christ’s teaching, that glorious day! “Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Luke leaves out the words “in spirit,” seeming to mean the “poor” and nothing else; and many people after him (some modern and malicious) have understood him to mean the simple-minded, the silly. They see in the words only a choice between the bankrupt and the imbecile. When He spoke, Jesus was not thinking either of the first or the second. Jesus had no friendship for the rich and de¬ tested with all His soul the greedy desire for riches, the greatest obstacle to the true enrichment of the soul; Jesus was friendly to the poor and comforted them because they had less com¬ fort than other people; He kept them near Him because of their greater need to be fed by loving words. But He was not so foolish as to think that to be poor, materially poor in the worldly sense of the word, is a sufficient title to enjoy the Kingdom, without any other qualifications. Jesus never gave any sign of admiring that intelligence which is solely the intelligence of abstraction and the memory for phrases. Purely systematic philosophers, and metaphysi- 88 LIFE OF CHRIST cal sophists, gropers in nature, devourers of books, would never have found grace in His eyes. But intelligence, the pov/er of understanding the signs of the future and the mean¬ ing of symbols — enlightened and prophetic intelligence, the loving mastery of the truth — was a gift in His eyes also, and many times He grieved that His listeners and His disciples showed so little of it. For Him supreme intelligence consisted in realizing that the intelligence alone is not enough, that all the soul must be changed to obtain happiness, since happiness is not an absurd dream but eternally possible and within reach. But he fully understood that intelligence ought to aid us in this total transmutation. He could not therefore call to the full¬ ness of the Kingdom of God the dull and the imbecile. Poor in spirit are those who are fully and painfully aware of their own spiritual poverty, of the faultiness of their own souls, of the smallness of the good that is in us all, of the moral indigence of most men. Only the poor who realize that they are really poor suffer from their poverty, and because they suffer from it try to escape from it. Very different these from men apparently rich, from those blind arrogant self-satisfied people who believe themselves fulfilled and perfected, in good stand¬ ing with God and man, who feel no eagerness to climb upward because they delude themselves with thinking they are already on high, who will never enrich themselves because they do not realize their own fathomless poverty. Those therefore who confess themselves poor and undergo suffering to acquire that veritable wealth named perfection, will become holy as God is holy, and theirs shall be the Kingdom of Heaven; those complacent people on the other hand who drape themselves in seif-satisfaction, taking no heed of the foulness accumulated and hidden under their vainglory, will not enter into the Kingdom. BLESSED ARE THE MEEK! FOR THEY SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH The earth here promised is not the literal field of clods, nor monarchies with built-up cities. In the language of the LIFE OF CHRIST 89 Messiah, ‘‘to inherit the earth” means to partake of the New Kingdom. The soldier who fights for the earthly earth needs to be fierce; but he who fights within himself for the conquest of the new earth and the new heaven must not abandon him¬ self to anger, the counselor of evil, nor to cruelty, the negation of love. The meek are those who endure close contact with evil men and with themselves — often harder to bear — who do not break out into brutish rage when things go badly, but conquer their inner enemies with that quiet perseverance which more than sudden sterile furies shows the force of the soul. They are like water which is not hard to the touch, which seems to give way before other substances, but slowly rises, silently attacks, and calmly consumes, with the patience of the years, the hardest granites. BLESSED ARE THEY THAT MOURN Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. The afflicted, the weeping, those who feel disgust for themselves and pity for the world, who do not live in the supine stupidity of everyday life, who mourn over their own unhappiness and that of their brothers, who grieve over failures, over the blind¬ ness which delays the victory of light — because light for men cannot come from the sky if their own eyes do not reflect it — who grieve over the remoteness of that righteousness dreamed-of again and again, promised a thousand times, and yet always further away through our fault and every one’s fault; those who mourn over an offense received instead of in¬ creasing the wrong by revenge, and who weep over the wrong they have done and over the good they might have done and did not; those who care little about the loss of a visible treas¬ ure but strain after the invisible treasure; those who mourn, hasten with their tears the day of grace, and it is right that they shall some day be comforted. vi, : 90 LIFE OF CHRIST BLESSED ARE THEY THAT HUNGER AND THIRST AFTER justice: for they shall be filled The justice which Jesus means is not the justice of men, obedience to human law, conformity to codes, respect for usage and for the established transactions of men. In the language of the psalmists, the prophets, the saints, the just man is he who lives according to the will of God, because God is the supreme type of all perfection. Not according to the law written by the Scribes set down in the Bible, diluted by Tal¬ mudic casuistries, obscured by the subtleties of the Pharisees; but according to the one simple Law which Jesus reduces to one commandment, ^Tove all men near and far, your fellow countrymen and foreigners, strangers and enemies.” Those* who hunger and thirst after this justice shall be filled in the Kingdom of Heaven. Even if they do not succeed in being perfect in all things, much will be pardoned for their endurance of the long vigil. BLESSED ARE THE MERCIFUL: FOR THEY SHALL OBTAIN MERCY He who loves shall be loved, he who gives help shall find help. The law of retaliation is nullified for evil but remains valid for good. We constantly commit sins against the spirit and those sins will be forgiven us only as we forgive those committed against us. Christ is in all men and what we do to others will be done to us. ^‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” If we have pity on others we may have pity for ourselves; God can pardon the evil which we do to ourselves only’ if we pardon the evil which others do to us. BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART! FOR THEY SHALL SEE GOD The Pure of Heart are those who have no other wish than for perfection, no other joy than victory over the evil which hunts us dov/n on every side. He who has his heart crammed with furious desires, with earthly ambitions, with carnal pride LIFE OF CHRIST 91 “IT f and with all the lusts which convulse this ant-heap of the earth, can never see God face to face, will never know the sweetness of His magnificent felicity. BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS! FOR THEY SHALL BE CALLED THE SONS OF GOD These peacemakers are not the meek of the second beati¬ tude. The meek refrain from answering evil with evil; the peacemakers do more, they return good for evil, they bring peace where wars are flaring up. When Jesus said He had come to bring war and not peace. He meant war to evil, to Satan, to the world, to evil which is wrong, to Satan who is Death, to the world which is an eternal battle. He means, in short, war against war. The peacemakers are those who wage war upon war, those who placate, those who bring about concord. The origin of every war is self-love, love which becomes love of riches, pride of possession, envy of those more ; wealthy, hatred for rivals; and the new law comes to teach ' hatred for oneself, contempt for measurable goods, love for all creatures, even for those who hate us. The peacemakers who teach and practice this love cut at the root of all war. When every man loves his brothers more than himself there will be no more wars, neither great nor small, neither civil nor im¬ perial, neither of words nor of blows, between man and man, between class and class, between people and people. The peacemakers will have conquered the earth and they will be called the true sons of God, and they will enter among the first into His Kingdom. ;i BLESSED ARE THEY WHO HAVE BEEN PERSECUTED FOR JUSTICE’ sake: FOR THEIRS IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN I send you out to found this Kingdom, the Kingdom of ! Heaven, of that higher justice which is love, of that fatherly ! goodness whose name is God; I send you out therefore to fight ,1 against those who uphold injustice, the servants of materialism, il the proselytes of the Adversary. They will defend themselves 92 LIFE OF CHRIST when attacked, and to defend themselves they will attack you. You will be tortured in body, crucified in soul, deprived of liberty and perhaps of life; but if you accept this suffering cheerfully to carry to others that justice which makes you suffer, this persecution will be for you an incontestable title to enter into the Kingdom which you have founded as far as was in your power. BLESSED ARE YE WHEN MEN SHALL REPROACH YOU AND PERSE¬ CUTE YOU AND SAY ALL MANNER OF EVIL AGAINST YOU FALSELY FOR MY SAKE. REJOICE AND BE EXCEEDING glad: for great is your reward in heaven: FOR so persecuted THEY THE PROPHETS WHICH WERE BEFORE YOU Persecution is a material attack through physical, legal and political means. The persecutors can take away your bread, and the clear light of the sun, and divine liberty; they may break your bones, but you must endure more than mere per¬ secution. You must expect insult and calumny. They will condemn you because you wish to change bestial men into saints. Wallowing in the foulness of their bestiality, they de¬ test the idea of leaving their filth. But they will not be satis¬ fied to strike only at your body, they will strike also at your soul. They will accuse you of all crimes, they will stone you with slander and contumely. Hogs will say that you are filthy, asses will swear that you are ignorant, ravens will ac¬ cuse you of eating carrion, rams will drive you away as ill¬ smelling, the dissolute will cry out upon the scandal of your corruptness and thieves will denounce you for theft. But you must always rejoice because the insult of evil men is the con¬ secration of your own goodness, and the mud thrown at you by the impure is the pledge of your purity. This is, as St. Francis says, ^‘the perfect joy.” Beyond all the graces which Christ gives to His friends is the grace of conquering oneself and willingly enduring injury, opprobrium, pains, discomforts. All the other gifts of God are not ours to glory in, because they come not from us, but from God; but in tribulation and in LIFE OF CHRIST 93 affliction we can glory because that is ours. All the prophets who have ever spoken upon the earth were insulted by men, and men will insult those who are to come. We can recognize prophets by this, that smeared with mud and covered with shame, they pass among men, bright-faced, speaking out what is in their hearts. No mud can close the lips of those who must speak. Even if the obstinate prophet is killed, they can¬ not silence him. His voice multiplied by the echoes of his death will be heard in all languages and through all the centuries. This promise brings the beatitudes to their end. By means of the beatitudes, Christ fully explains who are fit to be the citizens of His new Kingdom. Those citizens are henceforth found and sealed; every one can recognize them. The unwilling are warned, the uncertain are reassured. The rich, the proud, the satisfied, the violent, the unjust, the war¬ like, those who mock, those who do not hunger after perfec¬ tion, those who persecute and outrage, can never enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. They cannot enter there until they are altogether conquered and changed, and have become the opposite of what they are now. Those who live happily ac¬ cording to the world, those whom the world envies, imitates and admires, are infinitely further from true happiness than those others whom the world scorns and hates. In this exult¬ ing beginning Jesus has turned upside down the human hier¬ archy; now as He goes on He will turn upside down the values of life, and no other revaluation will ever be so divinely para¬ doxical as His. THE DIVINE PARADOX Emasculated Gymnosophists and the cowardly sect of the Saturnists, — these are serious-minded men who can understand plain facts but cannot interpret those facts but merely repeat and spoil them — have always looked with unfriendly eyes on what is called the paradoxical. To save themselves the trouble of distinguishing between sacred paradoxes and those which are only a fatuous amusement, they make haste to pass judg- 94 LIFE OF CHRIST ment on all paradox as nothing else than the overturning of recognized old truths; hence, false and — they add, to clip the wings of vanity — ^as easy as possible to invent. One would suppose it seems to them more difficult to walk along the road already laid out, and to spell over line by line what was writ¬ ten before they were born by men who certainly had not their cowardly temperament. But if these priests of the already-said would consider the few master ideas on which modern thought is living, or rather on which it is dying, they would discover that they are almost all overturnings, that is to say, paradoxes. When Rousseau says that men are born good but that society makes them bad, he turns inside out the accepted doctrine of original sin; when the disciples of progress affirm that from the worse comes the better; when the evolutionist affirms that the com¬ plex springs out of the simple; and the monist that all diversi¬ ties are but manifestations of the One; and the Marxist that economic history is the basis of spiritual development; when the modern mathematical philosophers affirm that man is not as he has always been believed, the center of the universe, but a minute animal species on one of an infinite number of spheres scattered in the infinite; when the Protestants cry, ^The Pope is of no account but only the Scriptures”; when the French Revolutionists say, “The Third Estate is nothing and should be everything” — what are all these people doing except over¬ turning old and commonly held opinions? But Jesus is the greatest overturner, the supreme maker of paradoxes, radical and without fear. This is His greatness, His eternal freshness and youth, the secret of the turning sooner or later of every great heart toward His Gospel. He became incarnate to recreate men sunk in error and evil; He found error and evil in the world; how could He fail to overturn the maxims of the world? Read over again the words of the Sermon on the Mount. At every step it proclaims the desire of Jesus that what is low shall be recognized as lofty; that the last shall be first; that the overlooked shall be the preferred; that the scorned shall be reverenced, and finally, that the old truth shall be considered as error, and ordinary LIFE OF CHRIST 95 life as death and corruption. He has said to the past, be¬ numbed in its death agony, to Nature, too easily followed, to universal and common opinion of mankind, the most decisive “NO’’ in the history of the world. In this He is faithful to the spirit of His race which in its very downfall always found reasons for greater hope. The most enslaved people dreamed of dominating other peoples with the help of the Son of David. The most despised race felt that glory was promised them, the people most punished by God believed itself the most loved; the most sinful was certain that it alone was to be saved. This absurd reaction of the Hebrew conscience became in Christ a revision of values, became, because of His superhuman origin, a divine renovation of all the principles followed and respected by humanity. Christ’s first discovery is like that of Buddha, “Men are unhappy, all men — even those who seem happy.” Siddharta to put an end to pain counseled the suppression of life itself. Jesus had another hope, more sublime in that it appears ab¬ surd. He taught that men are unhappy because they have not found true life. Let them become the opposite of what they are, let them do the contrary of what they do, and the festival of happiness on earth will begin. Until now they have followed Nature, they have let them¬ selves be guided by their instincts, they have accepted and that only superficially a provisional and insufficient law, they have worshiped lying gods, they have thought they could find happiness in wine, in flesh, in gold, in authority, in cruelty, in art, in learning; and the only result has been that their suffer¬ ing has become more intense. The explanation is that they I have lost the path, that they must turn straight around, re¬ nounce what seemed good, pick up what was thrown away, I worship what was burned, and burn what was worshiped, II conquer the animal instincts instead of satisfying them, strug- I gle with their nature instead of justifying it, make a new law and live by it, faithfully, in the spirit. If until now they have not obtained what they looked for, the only possible cure is to I turn their present life upside down, that is, to transform their ! souls. 96 LIFE OF CHRIST Our permanent unhappiness is a proof that the experiment of the old world has failed, that Nature is hostile, that the past is wrong, that to live like animals according to the elementary instinct of animals, only slightly furbished up and varnished with humanity, results in wretchedness and despair. Those who have laughed at or wept over the infinite wretch¬ edness of man have seen clearly. The pessimists are right. Those who denounce our boasting, those who scorn our strengthlessness, those who despise our ignominy, how can they be refuted? Whoever is not born to wriggle contentedly in the worm heap, eating his particle of earth, he who has not only a stomach and two hands, but a soul and a heart; he whose soul is of finer temper because it has been so beaten upon, is bound to feel a horror of mankind. For hard, arid natures this horror changes into repugnance and hate; for others richer and more generous it turns to pity and love. When we read Leopardi and consider how he lost (perhaps because of the imperfect Christians surrounding him) his youthful love of Christ and, eating his heart out in reasoning despair, ended with the despairing lines, “Tiresome and bitter is life, never aught but that”; who of us will have the insight to reply, “Be quiet, unfortunate man! If you taste nothing but bitterness, it comes from the wormwood you are eating; if you find life tiresome the fault is yours; you yourself have used the infernal stone of barren reasoning to cauterize those feelings which would have made your life cheerful or at least endurable”? No, Leopardi was not mistaken, for when you see men as they are and have no hope of saving them, or changing them, and you cannot live like them because you are too different from them, and cannot succeed in loving them because you be¬ lieve them condemned to eternal unhappiness and wickedness, when you feel that the brutes will always be brutes and the cowards always cowards and the foul always more sunk in their foulness, what else can you do but counsel your heart to si¬ lence, and hope for death? There is but one question: are men LIFE OF CHRIST 97 unchangeable, not to be transformed, not capable of becoming better? Or, on the other hand, can man rise above himself and make himself holy? The answer is of terrible importance. All our destiny is in that question. Among superior men many have not been fully conscious of this dilemma. Many have believed and still believe that the form of life can be changed, but not the essence; and that to man everything will be given except to change the nature of his spirit; that man can become yet more master of the world, richer and more learned, but he cannot change his moral structure. His feel¬ ings, his primary instincts will always remain as they were in the wild occupants of the caves, in the constructors of the lake cities, in the first barbarians and in the peoples of the most ancient kingdoms. Others feel an equal horror of man as he has been and as he is, but before they sink into the despair of moral nihilism they look at man as he could be. They have a firm faith in his perfectibility of soul and find happiness in the divine but terrible task of preparing the happiness of their brothers. For men who are truly men there is no other choice: either the blackest anguish or the boldest faith ; either death or salva¬ tion. The past is horrible, the present is repellent; let us give all our life, let us offer all our power of loving and understand¬ ing in order that to-morrow may be better, that the future may be happy. If up to now we have erred, and the irrefutable proof is the black past from which we have come, let us work for the birth of a new man and a new life. There are but two possibilities : either happiness will never be given to men or, and this Jesus believed firmly, if happiness could be our ordinary and eternal possession there is no other price for attaining it but to change our course, transform our souls, create new values, deny the old, answer the ^‘No” of holiness to the false “Yes” of the world. If Christ was mistaken, nothing remains but absolute and universal negation, resolute faith in nothing. Either complete and rigorous atheism, not the maimed hypo¬ critical atheism of the cowardly sects of to-day; or active faith in Christ who saves and resurrects us by His love. 98 LIFE OF CHRIST YE HAVE HEARD The first prophets, the earliest legislators, the leaders of young nations, the Kings, founders of cities and institutors of justice, the wise masters, the saints, began the domination of the beast. With spoken and sculptured word they tamed wolfish men, domesticated the men of the woods, held bar¬ barians in restraint, taught those bearded children, softened the violent, the vengeful, the inhuman. With the gentleness of the word or the terror of punishment (Orpheus or Draco), by promises or by threats, in the name of the gods of high heavens or the gods under the earth, they trimmed the nails, which im¬ mediately grew long again; put muzzles over the sharp-fanged mouths; protected the defenseless, the victims, pilgrims, women. The old law that is found with only a few variations in the Manava Dharmasastra, in the Pentateuch, in the Ta- Hio, in the Avesta, in the traditions of Solon and of Numa, in the sententious maxims of Hesiod and the Seven Wise Men, is the first attempt, rough, imperfect and inadequate, to mold animality into a sketch, a beginning, a simulacrum of hu¬ manity. This law reduced itself to a few elementary rules; not to steal, not to kill, not to perjure, not to fornicate, not to tyran¬ nize over the weak, not to mistreat strangers and slaves any more than was necessary. These are the social virtues, strictly necessary for a common life, useful to all. The legislator con¬ tented himself with naming the most ordinary sins, asked for a minimum of inhibition. His ideal rarely surpassed a sort of approximate justice. But the law took for granted the pre¬ dominance of evil, the sovereignty of instinct, earlier than the law and still existing. Every precept implies its infraction, every rule the practice of the opposite. For this reason the old law, the law of the first peoples, is only an insufficient channeling of the brute force eternal and triumphant. It is a collection of compromises and half-measures between custom and justice, between nature and reason, between the rebellious beast and the divine model. Men of ancient times, carnal, physical, hearty, lusty, muscu- LIFE OF CHRIST 99 lar, sanguine, sturdy, solid, hairy men with ruddy faces, eaters of raw meat, ravishers, cattle-stealers, mutilators of their ene¬ mies, fit to be called, like Hector the Trojan, ^‘killers of men,” strong, zestful warriors who, having dragged by the feet their slaughtered antagonists, refreshed themselves with fat haunches of oxen and of mutton, emptying enormous cups of wine; these men ill-tamed, ill-subdued to the law such as we see them in the Mahabharata, and in the Iliad, in the poem of Izdubar, and in the book of the wars of Jehovah, such men without the fear of punishment and of God would have been still more unrestrained and ferocious. In times when a head was asked for an eye, an arm for a finger, and a hundred lives for a life, a law of retaliation which asked only an eye for an eye and a life for a life was a notable victory of generosity, appalling though it seems after the teaching of Jesus. But the law was more often disobeyed than observed; the strong endured it against their will, the powerful who ought to have protected it, evaded it; the bad violated it openly; the weak cheated it. And even if it had been entirely obeyed by every man every day it would not have been enough to con¬ quer the evil perpetually boiling up, held down only for a moment, rendered harder to enact but not impossible, con¬ demned but not abolished. It was a reduction of innate fierce¬ ness, not its total extirpation. Men, shackled but reluctant, had learned to pretend obedience, did a little good where every one could see them in order to be more free to do wrong se¬ cretly, exaggerated the observance of external precepts that they might the better betray the foundation and spirit of the law. They had come to this point when Jesus spoke on the Mount. He understood that the old law was doomed, drowned in the stagnant swamps of formalism; the endless work of the educa¬ tion of the human race was to begin over again, the ashes must be brushed away, the flame of original enthusiasm must be blown into it, it must be carried through to its original desti¬ nation which is always metanoia, the changing of the soul. And for this it was necessary to terminate the old law, the dried and burnt-out old law. lOO LIFE OF CHRIST With Jesus therefore begins the new law: the old is abro-* gated and declared insufficient. He begins at every example with the words — ^We have heard it said” . . . and at once He substitutes for the old command, which He purifies by paradox or actually overthrows, the new command, “But I say unto you . . With these “buts” a new phase of the human education be¬ gins. It is not the fault of Jesus if we are still groping along in the twilight of very early dawn. BUT I SAY UNTO YOU “Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time. Thou shalt not kill . . . but I say unto you. That whosoever is an¬ gry with his brother . . . shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say. Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.” Jesus goes straight to the extreme. He does not even consider the possibility of striking a brother, much less of killing him. He does not conceive even the in¬ tention, the wish to kill. A single moment of anger, a single abusive word, a single offensive phrase, are for him the equiva¬ lent of assassination. Unimaginative, mediocre people cry out, “Exaggeration.” There can be no grandeur where there is no passion and passion is exaggeration. Jesus has His own logic and makes no mistake. Murder is only the final carry¬ ing out of a feeling. From anger follow evil words, from evil words, evil deeds; from blows, murder. It is not enough therefore to forbid the final act, the material and external act. That is only the result of an interior process which has made it inevitable. The right thing to do is to cut at the root of the evil to destroy the evil plant of hate which bears the poisonous fruit. Achilles, son of Peleus, that same Achilles who was wrathful because they took away his concubine, and who begged the Gods to let him become a cannibal so that he could set his teeth in his dead enemies’ flesh, Achilles of the silver-footed mother said: “Whether they come from Gods or from men, ill-omened LIFE OF CHRIST lOI are quarrels and the anger which drives even a wise man to wrath, wrath which sweeter than honey in the mouth grows greater in men’s hearts.” Achilles, after the massacre of his companions, after the death of his dearest friend, discovers finally what a thing is wrath, which kindles and burns and not even a river of blood can quench it. The wrathful hero knows what an evil thing is wrath, but he is not converted. And he foregoes his wrath against the king of men only to vent the fury of his vengeance upon the murdered body of Hector. Anger is like fire: it can be smothered only at the first spark; afterwards it is too late. Jesus uttered the profoundest truth when He decreed the same penalty for the first hot words as for murder. When all men learn to conquer at the very start their outbreaks of resentment and to curb their imprecations, quarrels of words or of deeds will flame up no longer betv/een man and his brother man, and homicide will become only a black memory of our wild-beast past. ^We have heard that it was said of them of old time, thou shalt not commit adultery, but I say unto you that whoever looketh upon a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery already in his heart.” Even here Jesus does not stop with the material fact which seems of importance to gross men. He always soars from the body to the soul, from flesh to will, from the visible to the invisible. The tree is judged by its fruit, but the seed is judged by the tree. Evil visible to all is seen too late. In its maturity it can no longer be prevented. Sin is the pustule which suddenly appears, but which would not have appeared if the blood had been purged from its malignant humors in time. When a man and another man’s wife desire each other, the betrayal is complete, they have committed adultery whether or not they are guilty in deed. A man mar¬ ries not only the body of his wife, but her soul. If her soul is lost to him he has lost the greater part. To lose also the lesser part may be unendurably painful, but it is not vital. A woman overcome and forced without her consent by a stranger not loved by her, does not commit adultery. What counts is the intention, the feeling. He who wishes to main¬ tain himself pure must abstain also from the mere silent pass- 102 LIFE OF CHRIST ing look of desire, because the look of desire if not repressed is repeated and a look passes into a word, into a kiss, and into love which spares no lover. To think of, to imagine, to desire a betrayal is already a betrayal. He alone who cuts the first thread can save himself from the great net of perversity which, starting from a glance, grows until not even death can break it. And Jesus advises expressly to pluck out the eye and cast it away if evil comes from the eye, and to cut off the hand and throw it away if evil comes from the hand, — advice which dismays the cowardly and even the strong. Yet even the most cowardly, when threatened by cancer, have their arms or legs cut off, and if a tumor grows in the bowels, are ready to have their bodies cut open to save their lives. Men are concerned to save the body, but grudge any sacrifice neces¬ sary to keep in health the soul, without which the body is only an insensate machine of flesh and blood. “Again, ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time. Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths: “But I say unto you, Swear not at all, neither by heaven; for it is God’s throne: “Nor by the earth; for it is his footstool: neither by Jerusa¬ lem; for it is the city of the great King. “Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not make one hair white or black. “But let your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil.” He who swears to the truth is afraid, he who swears to the false is a traitor. The first believes that the power invoked could punish him, the other is an impostor who profits by the faith of others the more readily to deceive them. In both cases swearing is wrong. For us impotent men to call on a superior power to bear witness or to be a judge in our miser¬ able quarrels of opposed interest, to swear by our heads or by our sons’ heads when we cannot change the appearance of the smallest part of our body, is an absurd challenge, a blasphemy. He who always speaks the truth not through dread of penal¬ ties, but through natural desire of his soul, needs no oaths. LIFE OF CHRIST 103 Oaths can almost always be called in question, and never serve to give perfect security even to those who seem to be satisfied with them. In the history of the world there are more stories of broken oaths than of oaths kept, and he who uses most words to swear is precisely the man who is already thinking of breaking his oath. ^‘Ye have heard it said. Honor thy father and thy mother, but I say unto you, he that loveth his father and mother more than me is not worthy of me.” And also, ‘Hf any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and chil¬ dren, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.” Here also the old precept which ties the new order to the old order with the tether of reverence is brusquely reversed. Jesus does not condemn filial love, but He puts it in its right place, which is not first of all, as the people of antiquity thought. For Him the greatest love, the purest is paternal love. The father loves in the son the future, what is new; the son loves in the father, the past, the old. But Jesus comes to change the past, to destroy the old. Homage paid to parents, shutting oneself up in tradition and in the family, is a barrier to the renovation of the world. Love of all men is a greater thing than love for those who gave us life. Salvation for all men is infinitely preferable to the service of the few who make up a family. To have the greater, one must needs abandon the less. It would be more convenient to love only those of our family and to make this love (often forced and simulated) an excuse for not being friendly to any one else. But he who is devoting his life to something which transcends him has a great undertaking which takes all his strength and every mo¬ ment of his every hour until the last. He who wishes to serve the universe with a broad spirit must give up, and if that is not enough, deny the common affections. He who wishes to be Father in the divine sense of the word, even without physical paternity, cannot be merely a son. “Let the dead bury their dead.” In the old law, and more than ever in the learned tra¬ ditions, there were hundreds of precepts for the purification of the body, minute, tiresome, complicated precepts without any 104 LIFE OF CHRIST true earthly or heavenly foundation. The Pharisees made the best part of religion consist in the observance of these tradh tions because it is much less trouble to wash a cup than your own soul. For a dead thing like a cup a little water and a towel are enough; for the soul there must be tears of love and the fire of desire. “Not that which goeth into the mouth de- fileth a man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a man. Do ye not understand that whatsoever enter- eth in at the mouth goeth into the belly and is cast out into the draught? But those things which proceed out of the mouth come forth from the heart; and they defile the man. For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, forni¬ cations, thefts, false witness, blasphemies. These are the things which defile a man; but to eat with unwashen hands defileth not a man.” The bath with water from the well or from the fountain, the bodily and ritual bath, does not take the place of the essen¬ tial inner purification, and it is better to eat with hands soiled with sweat than to repel a hungry brother with hands washed in three waters. Filth issues from the body, disappears into the vaults and enriches orchards and fields. But there are many finely dressed gentlemen so full to the throat with an¬ other sort of filth that the stench of it comes out with the words from their mouths, vainly washed and rinsed. And this filth does not disappear into underground vaults, but soils every one’s life, poisons the air, befouls even the innocent. From these excremental men we should stand far away, even if they are washed twelve times a day; the soaping of the skin is not enough if the heart sends up noisome thoughts. The sewer-cleaner, if he thinks no evil, is certainly cleaner than the rich man who, while splashing in the perfumed water of his marble bath tub, is meditating some new fornication or fraud. NONRESISTANCE But Jesus had not yet arrived at the most stupefying of His > revolutionary teachings. “Ye have heard that it hath been l said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say.^ LIFE OF CHRIST 105 unto you, That ye resist not evil: But whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloke also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain.’’ There could be no more definite repudiation of the old law of retaliation. The greater part of those who call themselves Christians not only have never observed this new Command¬ ment, but have never been willing to pretend to approve of it. For an infinite number of believers this principle of not re¬ sisting evil has been the unendurable and inacceptable scandal of Christianity. There are three answers which men can make to violence: revenge, flight, turning the other cheek. The first is the bar¬ barous principle of retaliation, now smoothed over and emas¬ culated in the legal codes, but nevertheless prevailing in usage: evil is returned for evil, either in one’s own person or by the means of intermediaries, representatives of our tribal lack of civilization, called judges or executioners. To the evil com¬ mitted by the first offender are added the evils committed by the officers of justice. Often the punishment turns on the punisher and the terrible chain of violence from one revenge to another stretches out interminably. Wrong is two-edged; it fails even if inflicted with the desire of doing good, in na¬ tions, or families or individuals. A first crime brings after it a train of expiations and punishments which are distributed with sinister impartiality between offenders and offended. The law of retaliation can give a bestial relief to him who is first struck, but instead of lessening evil it multiplies it. Flight is no better than retaliation. He who hides himself redoubles his enemies’ courage. Fear of retaliation can on rare occasions hold back the violent hand, but the man who takes flight invites pursuit. He who hides invites his adversary to make an end of him. His weakness becomes the accomplice of the ferocity of others. Here also evil begets evil. In spite of its apparent absurdity the only way is that com¬ manded by Jesus. If a man gives you a blow and you return another blow, he will answer with his fists, you in turn with io6 LIFE OF CHRIST kicks, weapons will be drawn and one of you may lose your life, often for a trivial reason. If you fly, your adversary will follow you and emboldened by his first experience will knock you down. Turning the other cheek means not receiving the second blow. It means cutting the chain of the inevitable wrongs at the first link. Your adversary who expected resis¬ tance or flight is humiliated before you and before himself. He was^ready for anything but this. He is thrown into con¬ fusion, a confusion which is almost shame. He has the time to come to himself ; your immobility cools his anger, gives him time to reflect. He cannot accuse you of fear because you are ready to receive the second blow, and you yourself show him the place to strike. Every man has an obscure respect for courage in others, especially if it is moral courage, the rarest and most difficult sort of bravery. An injured man who feels no resentment and who does not run away shows more strength of soul, more mastery of himself, more true heroism than he who in the blindness of rage rushes upon the offender to render back to him twice the evil received. Quietness, when it is not stupidity, gentleness, when it is not cowardice, astound common souls as do all marvelous things. They make the very brute understand that this man is more than a man. The brute him¬ self when not incited to follow by a hot answer or by cowardly flight, remains paralyzed, feels almost afraid of this new, un¬ known^ puzzling force, the more so because among the greatest exciting factors for the man who strikes, is his anticipated pleasure in the angry blow, in the resistance, in the ensuing struggle. Man is a fighting animal; but with no resistance offerea the pleasure disappears; there is no zest left. There is no longer an adversary, but a superior who says quietly, “Is that not enough? Here is the other cheek; strike as long as you wish. It is better that my face should suffer than my soul. You can hurt me as much as you wish, but you cannot force me to follow you into a mad, brutal rage. The fact that some one has wronged me cannot force me to act wrongly.’’ Literally to follow this command of Jesus demands a mas¬ tery possessed by few, of the blood, of the nerves, and of all the instincts of the baser part of our being. It is a bitter and re- LIFE OF CHRIST 107 pellent command; but Jesus never said it would be easy to fol¬ low Him. He never said it would be possible to obey Him without harsh renunciations, without stern and continuous inner battles; without the denial of the old Adam and the birth of the new man. And yet the results of non-resistance, even if they are not always perfect, are certainly superior to those of resistance or flight. The example of so extraordinary a spirit¬ ual mastery, so impossible and unthinkable for common men, the almost superhuman fascination of conduct so contrary to usual customs, traditions and passions; this example, this spec¬ tacle of power, this puzzling miracle, unexpected like all mira¬ cles, difficult to understand like all prodigies, this example of a strong, sane man who looks like other men, and yet who acts almost like a God, like a being above other beings, above the motives which move other men — this example if repeated more than once, if it cannot be laid to supine stupidity, if it is ac¬ companied by proofs of physical courage when physical cour¬ age is necessary to enjoy and not to harm — this example has an effectiveness which we can imagine, soaked though we are in the ideas of revenge and reprisals. We imagine it with diffi¬ culty; we cannot prove it because we have had too few of such examples to be able to cite even partial experiments as proofs of our intuition. But if this command of Jesus has never been obeyed or too rarely obeyed, there is no proof that it cannot be followed, still less that it ought to be rejected. It is repugnant to human na¬ ture, but all real moral conquests are repugnant to our nature. They are salutary amputations of a part of our soul — for some of us the most living part of the soul — and it is natural that the threat of mutilation should make us shudder. But whether it pleases us or not, only by accepting this command of Christ can we solve the problem of violence. It is the only course which does not add evil to evil, which does not multiply evil a hundredfold, which prevents the infection of the wound, which cuts out the malignant growth when it is only a tiny pustule. To answer blows with blows, evil deeds with evil deeds, is to meet the attacker on his own ground, to proclaim oneself as low as he. To answer with flight is to humiliate one- io8 LIFE OF CHRIST self before him, and incite him to continue. To answer a furi¬ ously angry man with reasonable words is useless effort. But to answer with a simple gesture of acceptance, to endure for three days the bore who inflicts himself on you for an hour, to offer your breast to the man who has struck you on the shoul¬ der, to give a thousand to the man who has stolen a hundred from you, these are acts of heroic excellence, supine though they may appear, so extraordinary that they overcome the brutal bully with the irresistible majesty of the divine. Only he who has conquered himself can conquer his enemies. Only the saints can charm wolves to mildness. Only he who has transformed his own soul can transform the souls of his brothers, and transform the world into a less grievous place for all. AGAINST NATURE Nonresistance to evil is profoundly repugnant to our nature, but to obey the teachings of Christ means that our nature will come to feel disgust for what now pleases us, and find happi¬ ness in what now fills us with horror. His every word takes for granted this total renovation of the human spirit: He fear¬ lessly contradicts our most ordinary inclinations and the deep¬ est of our instincts. He praises what every one avoids. He condemns what all men seek. He not only gives the lie to what men teach (often very different from what they really think and do), but He contradicts what they actually think and do every day. Jesus does not believe in the perfection of the natural soul, of the original soul. He believes in its future perfection, only to be reached by a complete overturning of its present nature. His task is the reform of man; more than that, the making- over of man. With Him begins the new race; He is the model, the arch-type, the Adam of humanity remodeled and recast. Socrates tried to reform the mind, Moses the law, others went no further than altering a ritual, a code, a system, a science; but Jesus did not aim at changing one part of man but the whole man from top to bottom, changing the inner man who is LIFE OF CHRIST 109 the motive-power and origin of all the facts and the words of the world. Therefore we need not expect Him to compromise or to wheedle. He will make no concessions to evil and im¬ perfect nature; He will not find specious reasons to justify it as the philosophers do. You cannot serve Jesus and Nature. He who stands with Jesus is against the old animal nature and is working for the higher nature which must conquer it. Everything else is idle talk, dust and ashes. Nothing is miore common among men than the thirst for riches. To heap up money by any means, even the most in¬ famous, has always seemed the sweetest and most respectable of occupations. But he who wishes to come with me, said Jesus, must go and sell that which he has and give it to the poor and he shall have treasures in Heaven. Poverty is the first requisite for the citizenship of the Kingdom. All men anxiously take thought for the morrow. They are always afraid lest the ground give way under their feet, lest there may not be enough bread to last to the next harvest. They fear that they will not have enough clothes to cover their bodies and the bodies of their children. But Jesus teaches us, ^Take therefore no thought for the morrow: sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Every man would like to stand first even among his equals. He wishes to be superior to those who surround him, to com¬ mand, to dominate, to seem greater, richer, handsomer, wiser. The whole history of men is only the terror of standing second ; but Jesus teaches us, ‘‘And whosoever of you will be the chief- est shall be servant of all.” The greatest is the smallest, the most powerful shall serve the weakest, he who exalts himself shall be humbled, he who humbles himself shall be exalted. Vanity is another universal curse of men. It poisons even their good actions, because nearly always they perform those insignificant good actions so that they may be seen. They do evil secretly and good openly. Jesus commands us to do just the opposite. “But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth; . . . And when thou pray- est, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the no LIFE OF CHRIST streets, that they may be seen of men. . . . But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet. . . . Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disguise their faces, that they may appear to fast. . . . But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face.” The instinct of self-preservation is the strongest of all those which dominate us. No infamy, cruelty or cowardice is too much for us to pay for the safety of this handful of animated dust. But Jesus tells us: “For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: but whosoever will lose his life for my sake the same shall save it.” For what we call life is not true life and he who gives up his soul ruins also the flesh which houses it. Every one of us has a hankering to judge his fellows. To sit in judgment makes us feel that we are above those judged, better, more righteous, innocent. To accuse others is like say¬ ing, “IFe are not thus.” As a matter of fact it is always the hunchbacks who first cry out on those whose shoulders are a little bent. But Jesus says, “Judge not that ye be not judged, condemn not and ye shall not be condemned, forgive and ye shall be forgiven.” Every man boasts of being really manly, that is, a grave, mature, wise, substantial, worthy person, who understands the nature of things and who can reason and have an opinion on all subjects. A speech that is too sincere is said to be childish; a simple person is scornfully called childish. But when the disciples asked Him who is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus answered, “Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the Kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.” The serious-minded man, the devout, the pure, the Pharisee, avoids if possible the company of sinners, of the fallen, of the defiled, and receives as equals at his table only the righteous. But Jesus tirelessly announces that He has come to seek for sinners and not for the righteous, the bad and not the good, and He feels no shame in sitting down to dinner in the house of the publican, where a prostitute anoints his feet. The truly pure man cannot be corrupted by the corrupt, and does not feel LIFE OF CHRIST III that for fear of soiling his garments he needs leave them to die in their own vileness. The avarice of men is so great that every one tries to take as much as he can from others and to give back as little. Every one seeks to possess; praises of generosity are only an attempt to cover professional beggary with a decent mask; but Jesus affirms, “It is better to give than to receive.” • All of us hate most of the people we know. We hate them because they have more than we, because they will not give us all we would like to have, because they do not pay enough attention to us, because they are different from us; in a word, because they exist. We even go so far as to hate our friends, even our benefactors. And Jesus commands us to love men, to love them all, to love even those who hate us. No one who disobeys this command can call himself a Chris¬ tian; though he is on the point of death if he does not love his slayer, he has no right to call himself a Christian. Love for ourselves, the origin of our hatred for others in¬ cludes all other tendencies and passions. He who conquers self-love, and the hatred toward others, is already entirely transformed; the rest flows from this as a natural consequence. Hatred toward oneself and love for enemies is the beginning and end of Christianity. The greatest victory over the fierce, blind, brutal man of antiquity is this and nothing else. Men cannot be born again into the happiness of peace until they love those who have offended against them. To love your ene¬ mies is the only way to leave not an enemy on earth. BEFORE LOVE Those who refuse Christ have many easily understandable reasons for not accepting Him: they would need to renounce their old personalities and they cannot see that they would gain much by this renunciation; and they are afraid of losing the dusty rubbish which seems magnificence to them. People who deny Christ as an excuse for not following His teachings have justified themselves of late by another reason, a learned II2 LIFE OF CHRIST reason: they claim that He said nothing new. His words can be found in the Orient and in the Occident centuries earlier. Either He stole them, or plagiarized unconsciously. If He said nothing new, He is not great; if He is not great, there is no need to listen to Him. Let the ignorant admire Him, the stupid obey Him, the foolish respect Him! However, these experts in the genealogy of ideas do not say whether the ideals of Jesus, let them be new or old, should be accepted or rejected; they do not dare to pretend that Christ did nothing of value when He consecrated by His death a great truth, a forgotten, unused truth. They do not look carefully to see whether there is a real identity of sense and of spirit between the ideas of Jesus and those other older ideas, or whether there is merely a simple assonance and a dis¬ tant verbal resemblance. And in the meantime, in order to avoid being misled in that matter, they reject Christ’s law and that of the philosophers who, they pretend, were Christ’s teachers, and they continue tranquilly to lead their filthy lives as if the Gospels had not been addressed to them as to other men. After the promulgation of the old Law there was amity be¬ tween blood kin; and the citizens of the same city bore with each other and did one another no harm; but for strangers, if they were not guests, there was only hatred and extermina¬ tion. Inside the family a little love; inside the city an approxi¬ mate justice; outside the walls and the frontiers inextinguish¬ able hatred. Centuries later voices were heard which asked a little love also for the neighbor, for those who were not of the same household but of the same nation, which asked for a little justice even for strangers, even for enemies. This would have been a wonderful step forward; but these voices — they were so few, so weak, so distant — were not heard, or, if heard, were not heeded. Four cénturies before Christ a wise man of China, M’-Ti, wrote a whole book, the Kie-Siang-Ngai, to say that men should love each other. He wrote, ^The wise man who wants to improve the world can improve it only if he knows with certainty the origin of disorders; if he does not know that, he LIFE OF CHRIST 113 cannot improve it. . . . Whence come disorders? They spring up because men do not love each other. Workmen and children have no filial feeling for their employers and parents. Children love themselves but do not love their parents; they cheat their parents for their own purposes. Younger brothers love themselves but do not love their older brothers; subjects love themselves but do not love their princes; the father has no indulgence for the son, the older brother for the younger brother, the prince for his subjects. The father loves himself and does not love his son; he wrongs his son to his own ad¬ vantage . . . thus, everywhere brigands love their own homes and not their neighbors’ homes, and for this they sack other men’s houses to fill their own. Thieves love their own bodies and do not love men, wherefore they steal from men for the good of their own bodies. If thieves considered the bodies of other men as they do their own, who would rob? The thieves would stay their hands. ... If universal mutual love should come, countries would not resort to blows, families would not be troubled, thieves would hold their hands, princes, subjects, fathers and sons would be respectful and indulgent and the world would be better.” For M’-Ti, love, or, to translate it more exactly, benevo¬ lence composed of respect and indulgence, is the mortar to hold citizens and the state more closely united. It is a remedy against the evils of life-in-common, a social panacea. ^^Answer insults with courtesy,” suggests timidly the mys¬ terious Lao-Tse; but courtesy is prudence or mildness, not love. His contemporary, old Confucius, according to his dis¬ ciple Thseng-Tse, taught a doctrine which consisted in up¬ rightness of heart, and in loving one’s neighbor as oneself (neighbor and not the distant one, the stranger, the enemy) as much as ourselves and not more than ourselves! Confucius preached filial love and general benevolence, necessary to the good ordering of kingdoms, but he did not dream of condemn¬ ing hate. In the same Lun-Yu, where the words of Thseng- Tse are read, we find these other words, taken from the oldest Confucian text, the Ta-Hio: ‘‘Only the just and human man is capable of justly loving and hating men.” 114 LIFE OF CHRIST His contemporary Gautama recommends love for men, for all men, even the most wretched and ’despised. And the same love is to be felt for animals, for the smallest among animals, for all living beings. In Buddhism love of man for man is only a salutary exercise for the total eradication of self-love, first and strongest prop of life. Buddha wishes to suppress suffering; and to suppress suffering he sees no other way than to drown personal souls and universal souls in Nirvana, — in nothingness. The Buddhist does not love his brother out of love for his brother, but out of self-love, — that is, to avoid suffering, to overcome egotism, to approach absorption in the stream of life. His universal love is cold and self-seeking, egotistical, a form of indifference, stoical in grief as in joy. In Eg5^t every dead body took with it into the tomb a copy of the book of the dead, an anticipatory apology of the soul before the tribunal of Osiris. The dead praises himself: he has been righteous and has given to the needy, “I have starved no one! I have made no one weep ! I have not killed ! I have not commanded treacherous murder! I have defrauded no one! I have given bread to the hungry, water to the thirsty, clothes to the naked, a boat to the traveler halted on his journey, sacrifices to the gods, funeral banquets to the dead.” This is righteousness and these are works of mercy (had they really as a matter of fact done all that they claimed?) but we find no love here, much less love for enemies. If we wish to know how the Egyptians treated their enemies let us read an inscription of the great king, Phiops I Miriri: ‘This army went in peace; it entered as it pleased into the country of the Hirushaitu. This army went in peace; it laid waste the country of the Hirushaitu. This army went in peace; they cut down all their fig trees and their grape vines. This army went in peace; they set on fire all their houses. This army went in peace; it massacred their soldiers by myriads. This army went in peace; it carried away their men, women and children in great numbers, and for this, more than for any other thing, did his Holiness rejoice.” Zarathushtra also leaves a law for the Iranians. This law commands the faithful of Ahura Mazda to be kind to their LIFE OF CHRIST 115 companions in the faith. They are to give clothes to the naked and they are not to refuse bread to the hungry working man. We are still concerned with material charity towards those who belong to us, who serve us, who are our neighbors. There is no talk of love. It has been said that Jesus added nothing to the Mosaic law, and only repeated the old Commandments. ^Tye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot. Burning for burn¬ ing, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.” Thus speaks Moses in Deuteronomy, “And thou shalt consume all the people which the Lord thy God shall deliver thee; thine eye shalt have no pity upon them.” Thus it is written in Deuteronomy: a step further and we have reached Love, “Also thou shalt not op¬ press a stranger: for ye know the heart of a stranger, seeing ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.” This is a beginning: do no wrong to strangers in memory of the time when you also were a stranger; but the stranger who lives with us is not an enemy, and to refrain from wronging him, does not mean to do good to him. Exodus commands not to wrong him. Leviticus is more generous, “And if a stranger sojourn with thee in your land ye shalt not vex him. But the stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thyself. . . .” Always the foreigner who lives with you and has become your fellow-citizen, hence like one of your friends. In the same book we read, “Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people.” This is another step forward. Do no harm to him who offends you, provided that he is of your own nation.' We have come, if not to pardon, to generous forgetfulness, al¬ though only for neighbors. “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” Neighbor, fel¬ low-citizen, the man who is your racial brother, who can help you. But your enemy? There is also an admonition about the treatment of your enemy: “If thou meet thine enemy’s ox or his ass going astray, thou shalt surely bring it back to him again. If you see the ass of him that hateth thee lying under his burden, and wouldest forbear to help him, thou shalt surely help with him.” Oh, great kindness of Jewish antiquity! It ii6 LIFE OF CHRIST would be so sweet to drive the ass further, so that his master would have more trouble in finding him: and when you see the ass fallen down under his pack-saddle, how amusing it would be to smile in your beard and pass on; but the heart of the old Jew was not hardened to this degree: an ass was too precious in those times and those conditions: no one could live without at least one ass in the stable, and every one had an ass. To¬ day yours has escaped and to-morrow mine may run away. Do not let us avenge ourselves on our animals even if the master is a brute. Because if I am that man’s enemy he is my enemy. Let us set him a good example, an example by which we hope he will profit; let us lend him a hand to readjust the pack-saddle of his ass; let us do to others what we hope others will do to us, and above the crupper and the ears of the ass let us, as merciful men, lay aside every evil thought. This is rather too little: the old Jew has already made a tre¬ mendous effort in caring for the animals of his enemy, but the Psalms, to make up for it, resound at every step with outcries against enemies and with violent demands to the Lord to persecute and destroy them. “As for the head of those that compass me about, let the mischief of their own lips cover them; let burning coals fall upon them ... let them be cast into the fire; into deep pits, that they rise not up again. Let destruction come upon him unawares; and let his net that he hath hid catch himself ; into that very destruction let him fall. And my soul shall be joyful in the Lord!” In such a world it is natural that Saul should be astounded that he was not killed by his enemy David, and that Job should boast of not having exulted in the misfortunes of an enemy. Only in the later proverbs do we find words which forecast Jesus’ saying, “Say not thou, I will recompense evil; but wait on the Lord, and he shall save thee.” The enemy is to be pun¬ ished, but by hands more powerful than thine. Then the anonymous moralist of the Old Testament comes finally to charity, “If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat; and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink.” This is progress: pity does not stop with the ox, but extends itself also to the owner. But the marvels of love of the Sermon on the Mount r LIFE OF CHRIST 117 I cannot have sprung from these timid maxims hidden away in a corner of the Scriptures. But there is, they say, Hillel, the Rabbi Hillel, the great Hillel, master of Gamaliel, Hillel Hababli or the Babylonian. I This celebrated Pharisee lived a little before Jesus and taught, i they say, the same things which Jesus afterwards taught. He I was a liberal Judean, a rational Pharisee, an intelligent rabbi; but was he therefore a Christian? It is true that he said these words, “Do not do unto others what is displeasing to you; this is the whole Law, the rest is only explanation of it.” These are fine words for a master of the old law, but how far away they are from those of the overturner of the ancient law! This is L ^ a negative command, “Do not do.” He does not say, “Do I good to those who wrong you,” but “Do not do to others (and these others are certainly companions, fellow-citizens, mem¬ bers of the family and friends) what you feel to be evil.” He ! mildly forbids harmfulness; he gives no absolute command to love. As a matter of fact, the descendants of Hillel were those Talmudists who mired the law in the great swamp of casuistry. The descendants of Jesus were the martyrs who blessed their torturers. And Philo, the Alexandrian Jew, the Platonizing metaphysi¬ cian, some twenty years older than Jesus, left a treatise on the love of men; but Philo, with all his talents and with all his mystical and Messianic speculations, is, like Hillel, a theorist, a man of pens and ink-pots, of learning, of books, of systems, of abstractions, of classifications. His dialectic strategy brings into the field thousands of words in parade formation, but he is never inspired to pronounce the one word that burns up in j an instant all the past, the one word which brings hearts to- gether. He has talked of love more than Christ, but he could II never have said, and he would not have been able to under¬ stand, what Christ said to his ignorant friends on the Mount. : ACHILLES AND PRIAM Is it possible that in Greece, that well-spring from whence all ^ have drunk, there was no love for enemies? Would-be modern ii8 LIFE OF CHRIST pagans, enemies of the ‘‘Palestine superstition,” claim that Greek thought has everything in it. In the spiritual life of the Occident, Greece is like China to the East, mother of all in¬ vention. In the Ajax of Sophocles, famous Odysseus is moved to pity at the sight of a fallen enemy reduced to misery. In vain Athena herself, Hellenic wisdom personified in the sacred owl, reminds him that “the most delightful mirth is to laugh at one’s enemies.” Ulysses is not convinced. “I pity him, although he is my enemy, because I see him so unfortunate, bound to an evil destiny; and looking at him, I think of myself. Because I see we are not other than ghosts, and unsubstantial shadows, all we who live. ... It is not right to do evil to a dying man even if you hate him.” It seems to me that we are here still very far away from love. Wily Ulysses is not wily enough to conceal the motive of his unnatural softening. He pities his enemy because he thinks of himself, remembers that evil could happen also to him, and he pardons his enemy only because he sees him dying and unfortunate. A wiser man than Ulysses, the son of Sophroniscus, the stone cutter, asked himself, among many other questions, how the righteous man ought to treat his enemies. But reading the texts, we discover with astonishment two Socrates, of different opinions. The Socrates of the Memorabilia frankly accepts the common feeling. Friends are to be treated well and ene¬ mies ill, and thus it is better to anticipate one’s enemies in do¬ ing ill: “The man most greatly to be praised,” he says to Cherocrate, “is he who anticipates his enemies in hurtfulness and his friends in helpfulness.” But Plato’s Socrates does not accept the common opinion. He says to Crito, “Injustice should be rendered to no one in return for injustice; nor evil for evil whatever has been the injury that thou hast received.” And he affirms the same principle in the Republic, adding in support that the bad are not bettered by revenge. But the ruling idea in Socrates’ head is the thought of justice, not the feeling of love. In no case should the righteous man do evil, out of self-respect (notice this), not out of affection towards his enemy. The bad man must punish himself, otherwise the LIFE OF CHRIST 119 judges in the lower world will punish him after death. Aris¬ totle, the disciple of Plato, turns tranquilly back to the old idea: ‘‘Not to resent offenses,” he says in the Ethics to Nico- machus, “is the mark of a base and slavish man.” In Greece, therefore, there is little to the purpose for those who are looking for precedents for Christianity. But in order to make us believe that Christianity existed be¬ fore Christ, those who deny Jesus, have found a rival to Jesus even in Rome, in the very palace of the Caesars. Seneca, the director of conscience to young gentlemen, leader of the fash- jionable cult of reformed stoicism; the abstract aristocrat never I moved by the troubles of the poor; the proprietor who despises riches, and clutches them tightly, who affirms the equality be¬ tween free and slave, and owns slaves; the talented anatomist of scruples, of evils, of active vices, and complacent virtues; he who canalized the old doctrine of Chrisippus, dull but clear, towards the estuary of preciosity; moral Seneca they claim was a Christian without knowing it during Christ’s very lifetime. Thumbing over his works (many were written after the death of Christ, for Seneca waited till he was sixty-five years old before committing suicide), they have found that “the I wise man does not avenge but forgets affronts,” and that I “to imitate the Gods we should do good also to the ungrateful because the sun shines equally on the wicked and the seas bear up the pirate ship,” and finally that “We must succor our ene- Jmies with a friendly hand.” But the “forgetting” of the philo- ^sopher is not “forgiveness”; and “succor” can be philanthropy |but is not love. The imperious, the stoic, the Pharisee; the "philosopher proud of his philosophy, the righteous man com- Siplacent over his righteousness, can despise the affronts of the small, the pricks of enemies, and through pride of magnanim¬ ity and to win admiration can deign to give a loaf to a hungry enemy in order to humiliate him more harshly from the heights of perfection. But that bread was prepared with the leaven of vanity and that would-be friendly hand could never have dried a tear or dressed a wound. The world of antiquity did not know love. It knew passion for a woman, friendship for a friend, justice for the citizen, 120 LIFE OF CHRIST hospitality for the foreigner; but it did not know love. Zeus protected pilgrims and strangers; he who knocked at the Grecian door was not denied meat, a cup of wine, and a bed. The poor were to be covered, the weak helped, the mourning consoled with fair words; but the men of antiquity did not know love, love that suffers, that shares another’s sorrow, love for all who suffer and are neglected, love for the poor, the lowly, the outlawed, the maligned, the downtrodden, the abandoned; love for all, love which knows no difference be¬ tween fellow-citizens and strangers, between fair and foul, be¬ tween criminal and philosopher, between brother and enemy. In the last canto of the Iliad we see an old man, a mourner, a father who kisses the hand of his most terrible enemy, of the man who has killed his sons, who has just killed his most loved son. Priam, the old king, head of the rich, ruined city, father i of fifty sons, kneels at the feet of Achilles, the greatest hero, ^ and the most unhappy among the Greeks, son of the Sea-God¬ dess, avenger of Patroclus, slayer of Hector. The white head of the kneeling old man is bowed before the' proud youth of the victor, and Priam mourns for the slain, strongest, fairest, most loved of all his fifty sons, and kisses the hand of the slayer! ^Thou also,” he says, ^^hast a grey-haired, failing, de¬ fenseless, far-distant father. In the name of thy father’s love, give me back at least the dead body of my son.” Achilles, the fierce, the wild, the slaughterer, puts the sup¬ pliant gently on one side and begins to weep; and both of them, the two enemies, the conqueror and the conquered, the father bereft of his son and the son who will never see his father again, the- white-haired old man and the golden-haired youth both weep, drawn together for the first time by sorrow. The others round about gaze at them silent and astounded : we ourselves after thirty centuries are shaken by their grief. But in the kiss of Priam there is no pardon, there is no love. This king humbles himself to obtain a difficult and unusual’i favor. If a God had not inspired him he would not havej stirred from Ilium; and Achilles does not weep for dead Hec-[ tor, for weeping Priam, for the powerful man who is brought to humble himself, for the enemy who is brought to kiss the LIFE OF CHRIST I2I hand of the slayer. He weeps over his lost friend; over Patrocles, dearer to him than all other men; over Peleus, left at Phthia; over his father, whom he will never more embrace, for he knows that his young days are numbered. And he gives back to the father the dead body of his son — that body which he has dragged for so many days in the dust — because it is the will of Zeus, not because his hunger of vengeance is stilled. Both of them weep for themselves ; the kiss of Priam is a harsh necessity, the restitution of Achilles is obedience to the Gods. In the noblest heroic world of antiquity there is no place for that love which destroys hate and takes the place of hate, for love stronger than the strength of hate, more ardent, more im¬ placable, more faithful, for love which is not forgetfulness of wrong, but love of wrong, because wrong is a misfortune for him who commits it rather than for him who suffers. There is no place for love for enemies in the world of antiquity. 1 Jesus was the first to speak of such love, to conceive of such love. This love was not known till the Sermon on the Mount. I This is the greatest and the most original of Jesus’ concep¬ tions. Of all His teachings this was the newest to men, this ^ is still His greatest innovation. It is new even to us, new be¬ cause it is not understood, not imitated, not obeyed; infinitely eternal like truth. THOU SHALT LOVE “Ye have heard that it hath been said. Thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you. Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and perse¬ cute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in Heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. For if ye love them which love you, v^hat reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same? And if ye salute your breth¬ ren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publi¬ cans so? Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in Heaven is perfect.” A few bare, plain words! But they 122 LIFE OF CHRIST are the Magna Charta of the new race, of the third race, of men not yet born. The first race was that of the animal with¬ out law, and its name was War; the second were barbarians tamed by the Law, whose highest perfection was justice. This is the race living now, and justice has not yet conquered War, and the Law has not yet supplanted animality. The third is to be the race of real men, not only upright but holy, not like beasts but like God. Jesus had just one aim: to transform men from beasts to saints by means of love. Circe, the enchantress, the Satanic consort of the old mythologies, converted heroes into beasts by means of animal pleasures. Jesus is the anti-Satan, the anti-Circe, He who saves from animality by a force more powerful than pleasure. This undertaking, which seems hope¬ less to all animals barely risen above animality and to beings just entering upon real humanity, must be based on the imita¬ tion of God. To approximate sanctity one must look toward divinity: ‘Te holy because God is holy. Be perfect because God is perfect.’’ This is not the first time that this appeal has been made to the heart of man. Satan said in the Garden: ‘Wou will be as gods.” Jehovah said to His judges: ^Te gods, be just as God is just.” But now there is no question of being wise like God, nor is it even enough to be just, like God. God is now more than wisdom and justice. With Jesus, He becomes our Father, becomes love. His earth gives bread and flowers even to the homicide; he who takes His name in vain sees the glorious sun every morning, the same sun which warms the clasped hands of the laborer praying in the field. A true father loves the son who turns from him as he loves the son who seeks him out; a father cherishes the child who obeys him in his house, or who vomits him out with his wine. A father can be saddened, can suffer, can mourn, but no sinning man is capable of making a father become like to himself. No one can induce a father to take revenge. And we who are so much lower than God, poor finite creatures, who are scarcely capable of remembering yesterday^ LIFE OF CHRIST 123 I who do not know to-morrow, we unfortunate, inferior creatures, j have we not many more motives to feel for our brothers in I wretchedness what God feels for us? God is the supreme sub- ! stance of our ideal. To draw away from Him, not to be as we i >pray that He may be with us, is this not to draw away from ] our unique destination, to keep perpetually and despairingly ^ out of our reach that happiness for which we are created, which i we believe to be the aim of our lives, imagined by us, dreamed of by us, longed-for, invoked and followed in vain through all the false felicities which are not of God? ‘‘Let us be Gods,” cries Bossuet. “Let us be Gods. He permits it, that we may imitate His holiness.” Who will refuse to be like God? Dii estis. Divinity is in I us; animality hampers and constricts it, stunting our growth. I Who would not wish to be God? Oh, men, are you in very j truth content to be only men? Men as you are to-day, half- men, half-beasts? Centaurs without robustness, sirens without I sweetness, demons with fauns’ muzzles and goats’ feet? Are you so satisfied with your bastard and imperfect humanity, with your animality scarcely held in leash, taking no step to win holiness save to desire it? Does it seem to you that the life of men as it has been in the past, as it is to-day, is so dear, so happy, so contented that there should be no effort to make it othervdse, entirely different, the opposite of what it is, more like that which for thousands of years we have imagined in , the future and in Heaven? Is it not possible to make another 1 life out of this life, to change this world to a world more divine, at last to bring down Heaven and the laws of Heaven upon i;i earth? This new life, this earthly but celestial world is the Kingdom of Heaven, and to bring about the Kingdom we must trans- figure and deify ourselves; become like God, imitate God. The l! secret of the imitation of God is love, the certain way of the transfiguration is love, love of man for man, love for friend n and enemy. If this love is impossible, our salvation is im- ji possible. If it is repugnant, it is a sign that happiness is re- j pugnant to us. If it is absurd, our hopes of redemption are 124 LIFE OF CHRIST only absurdity. Common sense tells us that to love our ene¬ mies is insanity, and to count such love as a prerequisite of our salvation seems simple madness. Love for enemies is like hatred for ourselves; hence it follows that we can only earn beatitude by hating ourselves. This conclusion should alarm no one, for it has been proved; all the experiments have been tried. It is not true that there has been no time to test it. For thousands of years we have been proving and proving it, over and over. We have tried the experiment of fierceness; and blood answered blood. We have tried the experiment of lust; and lust has left in the mouth the odor of corruption and a fiercer fever. We have forced the body into the most refined and perverse pleasures and found ourselves worn out and heavy-hearted, lying upon filth. We have tried the experiment of the Law, and we have not obeyed the Law; we have changed it and disobeyed it again, and Justice has not satisfied our hearts. We have tried the experiment of intellectualism, we have taken the census of creation, numbered the stars, described the plants, the dead things and the living things, we have bound them together with the thin threads of abstract ideas, we have transfigured them in the magic clouds of metaphysics; and at the end of all this, things have remained the same, eternally the same; they were not enough for us, they could not be renewed; their names and their numbers did not quiet our hunger, and the most learned men ended with weary confessions of igno¬ rance. We have tried the experiment of art and our feebleness has brought the strongest to despair, because the Absolute cannot be fixed in any form; the Many overflow from the One; the carefully wrought work of art cannot arrest the ephemeral. We have tried the experiment of wealth and have found our¬ selves poorer; the experiment of force and have come to our¬ selves, weaker. In no thing has our soul found quiet. We have found no welcoming shade, where our bodies can lie down and be at rest; and our hearts, always seeking, always disap¬ pointed, are older, weaker, and emptier because in nothing have they found peace, because no pleasure has brought them joy, no conquest, happiness. LIFE OF CHRIST 125 THE LAST EXPERIMENT Jesus proposes His experiment, the only remaining possi¬ bility, the experiment of love, that experiment which no one has made, which few have even attempted (and that for only a few moments of their lives), the most arduous, the most contrary to our instincts but the only one which can give what it promises. As he comes from the hand of Nature, Man thinks only of himself, loves nothing but himself. Little by little, with tre¬ mendous but slow efforts, he succeeds in loving for a while his woman, and his children, in tolerating his accomplices in the hunt, in assassination and in war. Very rarely is he able to love a friend; more easily he hates the man who loves him. He does not dream of loving the man who hates him. All this explains why Jesus commands us to love our enemies. To make over the entire man, to create a new man, the most tenacious center of the old man must be destroyed. From self- love come all the misfortunes, massacres and miseries of the world. To tame the old Adam self-love must be torn out of him, and in its place must be put the love most opposed to his present nature, love for his enemies. The total transforma¬ tion of man is such a sublime paradox that it can be reached only by fantastic means. It is an extraordinary undertaking, wild and unnatural, to be accomplished only with an extraor¬ dinary exaltation, opposed to Nature. Until now man has loved himself and hated those who hate him; the man of the future, the inhabitant of the Kingdom, must hate himself and love those who hate him. To love one’s neighbor as one’s self is an insufficient formula, a concession to universal egotism. For he who loves himself cannot perfectly love others, and finds himself perforce in conflict with others. Only hatred for ourselves is sufficient. If we love ourselves, we admire ourselves, we flatter ourselves too much. To over¬ come this blind love, we need to see our nothingness, our base¬ ness, our infamy. Hatred of ourselves is humility, is the be¬ ginning of improvement, of perfection. And only the humble shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven because they alone 120 LIFE OF CHRIST feel how far they are from it. We are angered at others be¬ cause our dear ego feels undeservedly offended, not sufficiently served by others; we kill our brother because he seems an ob¬ stacle to ouY good; we steal for the love of our body, we forni¬ cate to give pleasure to our body; envy, mother of rivalry and of wars, is merely sorrow because another has more than we, or has what we have not; pride is the expression of our cer¬ tainty of being of more account than others, of possessing more than others, of knowing more than others. All the things which religions, morals, and laws call sins, vices, and crimes begin in self-love, in the hatred for others which springs out of that one solitary, disordered love. What right have we to hate our enemies, when we ourselves have been guilty of the same fault for which we think we have the right to hate them; when we ourselves have been guilty of hatred? What right have we to hate them, even if they have done wrong, even if we believe them wicked, when we ourselves nearly always have done the same wrong actions, have been defiled with the same pitch? What right have we to hate them if nearly always we are responsible for their hate? We, who with the endless errors of our monstrous self-love, have forced them to hate us? And he who hates is unhappy, is the first to suffer. We ought to respond with love to that hatred, with gentleness to that harshness as reparation for the suffering of which we are often the real cause, immediate or distant. Our enemy is also our savior. We ought every day to be grateful to our enemies; they alone see clearly and state openly -what is ignoble in us; they make us conscious of our moral poverty, the realization of which is the only beginning for the second birth. For this service we owe them love. For our enemy needs love, and needs our love. He who loves us already has his joy and reward in himself. He needs no re¬ ward from us. But he who hates is unhappy; hates because he is unhappy. His hatred is the bitter outlet for his sufferings. We are partly guilty for this suffering, and even if, over-confi¬ dent in our innocence, we do not feel that we are responsible, we ought nevertheless to comfort with love the unhappiness of the man who hates, to calm him, make him better, convert him LIFE OF CHRIST 127 I also to the beatitudes of loving. We will know him better if I we love him, and knowing him better, we will love him more. I We only love heartily what we know well. If we love our enemy, his soul will be transparent to us, and as we penetrate further into it, we will discover much more to call forth our pity and our love; because every enemy is an unrecognized I brother; we often hate in him what resembles our own natures, i! Something of ourselves, unknown perhaps to us, is in our l| enemy and is often the cause of our hostility. When we love li our enemies we purify our spirit by understanding and lift his ::l spirit upward. Hatred, instead of driving men apart, may thus I engender a light that liberates men’s souls. The worst of evil ' may bring about the highest good. This is the reason why Jesus commands us to reverse f the ordinary and customary relations of men. When man loves what he now hates, and hates what he now loves, he will be I the opposite of what he is to-day. And if life now is made up of evils and despair, the new, changed life being the opposite of what we now have, will be all goodness and consolation, i For the first time we shall know happiness; the Kingdom of Heaven will begin on earth. We will find that eternal Para¬ dise, lost because the first men wished to learn the difference between good and evil. But for absolute love like the love of God the Father, there is neither good nor evil. Evil is over¬ whelmed by the good. Paradise was love, love between man and God, between man and woman. The new earthly para¬ dise, the paradise regained, will be the love of every man for all men. Christ is He who leads Adam back to the gates of the garden, teaches him how he can enter and live there always. The descendants of Adam have not believed Christ; they have ' repeated His words but have not obeyed them, and because their hearts are stubborn, men are still groaning in an earthly i Hell, which century by century goes on becoming more in¬ fernal. When the torments finally become unendurable, then the damned themselves will suddenly learn to hate hatred, the dying rebels in the extremity of their despair will learn to love their executioners. Then, at last, from the depths of sor- i I I 128 LIFE OF CHRIST rowful gloom will shine out the pure splendor of a miraculous spring. OUR FATHER The apostles asked Jesus for a prayer. He had told them to pray briefly and secretly, but they were not satisfied with any prayers recommended by the lukewarm, bookish priests of the Temple. They wanted a prayer of their own which would be like a countersign among the fraternity of Christ. Jesus on the Mount taught for the first time the Pater-noster, the only prayer which He ever taught. It is one of the simplest prayers in the world, the most profound which goes up from human homes to God, a prayer neither literary nor theo¬ logical — neither bold nor servile — the most beautiful of all prayers. But though the Lord’s Prayer is simple, it is not always understood. The century-old, mechanical reiteration of tongues and lips, the formal ritual repetition, have made it almost a string of syllables from which the original meaning has been lost. Reading it over word for word to-day like a new text, which we read for the first time, it loses its ritual banality, and freshens into its first meaning. ^^Our Father”; for we have sprung from Thee and love Thee as sons; from Thee we shall receive no wrong. ‘‘Which art in heaven” — in that which is opposed to the earth, in the opposite sphere from matter, in spirit and in that small but eternal part of the spirit which is our soul. “Hallowed be Thy name”; let us not only adore Thee with words but be worthy of Thee, drawing nearer to Thee with greater love, because Thou art no longer the avenger, the Lord of Battles, but the Father who teaches the joyfulness of peace. “Thy Kingdom come” — the Kingdom of Heaven, of the spirit of love, that of the Gospel. “Thy will be done, in earth as it is in heaven” — may Thy law of goodness and of perfection rule both spirit and matter, both the visible and invisible universe. “Give us this day our daily bread”; because our material body, necessary support of the spirit, needs every day a little LIFE OF CHRIST 129 material food to maintain it. We do not ask of Thee riches, dangerous burden, but only that small amount which permits us to live, to become more worthy of the promised life. Man does not live by bread alone, and yet without a morsel of bread the soul, living in the body, could not nourish itself on other things more precious than bread. “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” Pardon us because we pardon others. Thou art our eternal and in¬ finite creditor. We can never pay our debt to Thee, but re¬ member that because of our weakness, it is more of an effort for us to forgive one single debt of a single one of our debtors than it is for Thee to sweep away the record of all that we owe Thee. “Lead us not into temptation.” We are weak, still snared in fleshliness in this world which at times seems so beautiful and calls us to all the delights of faithlessness. Help us that our struggling transformation may not be too difficult, and that our entry into the Kingdom may not be too long delayed. “Deliver us from evil” — Thou who art in Heaven, who art 1 spirit, who hast power over evil, over stubborn and hostile mat¬ ter which surrounds us everywhere, and from which it is hard to free ourselves, Thou enemy of Satan, negation of matter, help us! Our true greatness lies in this victory over evil, over evil which springs up constantly because it will not be truly conquered until all have conquered it. But this decisive vic- I tory will be less distant if Thou helpest us with Thy alliance. With this appeal for aid, the Lord’s Prayer ends. In it are i none of the tiresome blandishments of Oriental prayers, rig¬ maroles of adulation and hyperbole which seem invented by a dog, adoring his master with his dog’s soul, because his master I permits him to exist and to eat. There are none of the querulous, complaining supplications of the Psalmist who asks j God for every variety of aid, more often temporal than spirit¬ ual, laments if the harvest has not been good, if his fellow- citizens do not respect him, and calls down wounds and arrows on the enemies whom he cannot conquer himself. In the Lord’s Prayer the only word of praise is the word “Father”; and that praise is a pledge, a testimony of love. From this 130 LIFE OF CHRIST father we ask only for a little bread, and we ask in addition the same pardon that we give our enemies; and at the last a valid protection in our fight with evil, the enemy of all, the great wall which hinders our entry into the Kingdom. He who says ‘‘Our Father” is not proud but neither is he humbled; he speaks to his Father with the intimate quiet ac¬ cent of confidence almost as from one equal to another. He is sure of his love and he knows that his father needs no long speeches to know his desires. “Your Father,” says Jesus, “knoweth what things ye have need of before ye ask Him.” Thus the most beautiful of all the prayers is a daily calling to mind of all that we need if we are to become like God. POWERFUL DEEDS After He had given out the new law of the imitation of God, Jesus came down from the Mount. One cannot always remain on the heights. -The moment we arrive on the summit of a mountain we are fated to descend. Every ascent is a pledge of descent, a promdse to come down again. He who has something to say must make himself: heard; if he always speaks on the summits, few will stay with him; it is cold on the summits for those who are not all on fire; and his voice will reach few. He who has come to give, cannot ask men, weak lungs, tired hearts, nerveless legs, to follow him upward, hobbling along to the heights. He must follow them down to the plain, into their houses; he must stoop to them if he is to lift them up. Jesus knew that exalted teaching on the heights would not suffice to spread the good news to all. He knew that men need . less abstract words, picture-making words, narrated words words almost as tangible as facts. And He knew that ever these words would not be enough. The simple, rustic, coarse, humble people who followed Jesu; were men whose lives were based on material things, men wh( could only understand spiritual things slowly, with grea effort, through material proofs, signs and material symbols^ They could not understand a spiritual truth without its mal LIFE OF CHRIST 131 terial incarnation; without evidence simple enough for them to weigh, evidence stated in the terms of the everyday world. An illustrative fable can lead men to moral revelation; a prodigy is to them confirmation of a new truth, of a contested mission. Preaching, made up of abstract axioms and apho- I risms, left these imaginative Orientals unsatisfied. Jesus had I recourse to the marvelous and to poetry: he performed mira- : cles and spoke in parables. For many moderns the miracles ; recounted by the Evangelists are a compelling reason for turn- : ing away from Jesus and the Bible. Their shriveled brains : cannot take in the miraculous ; therefore, they reason the Gos¬ pel lies, and if it lies in so many places none of it can be be- ' lieved. It is out of the question that Jesus can ever have [ raised the dead: therefore. His words have no value. The people who reason in this way reason ill. They give to ■ miracles a weight and a meaning much greater than that which ^ Jesus gave them. If they had read the four Gospels they would have seen that Jesus is always reluctant to perform miracles, that He does not feel this divine power of His is of supreme importance. Every time that He finds a fair reason for refus¬ ing, He refuses; if He yields, it is to reward the faith of the sorrowing man or woman who calls on Him; but the Gospels show that for Himself, for His own salvation. He never per¬ forms miracles. He performs no miracles in the wilderness j with Satan, none at Nazareth when they wish to kill Him, none ® at Gethsemane when they come to arrest Him, nor on the cross when they challenge Him to save Himself. His power is only for others, to benefit His mortal brothers. ' There are many who ask for a sign, a sign from Heaven, a I sign to persuade the unbelievers that His word is the true word : ii “An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and i there shall no sign be given to it, but the sign of the Prophet Jonas.” What is this sign? The writers of the gospel who wrote after the resurrection thought that Jonah emerging the third day from the whale symbolizes Jesus emerging the third day from the tomb, but the rest of what Jesus says I' shows that He meant something else. “The men of Nineveh ’ shall rise in judgment with this generation, and shall condemn 132 LIFE OF CHRIST it: because they repented at the teaching of Jonas; and, behold, a greater than Jonas is here.” Nineveh did not ask for prodi¬ gies: it was converted by the word alone. Men whom Jesus cannot convert by truths infinitely greater than those an¬ nounced by Jonah, are below the level of the men of Nineveh, idolaters, barbarians. Faith must not rest on marvels alone, nevertheless let us remember that faith — though it is higher and more perfect when achieved without miracles — can by its very fervor accomplish miracles. Hardened hearts, locked shut against truth, are not converted even by the greatest miracles. ^Hf they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.” He was neglected and rejected by the cities which were the scenes of the greatest prodigies. ^Woe unto thee, Chorazin! Woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have re¬ pented long ago, in sack-cloth and ashes.” Jesus never held that miracles were His exclusive privilege. When they came to tell Him that some man was driving out Demons in His name. He answered, “Forbid him not.” This power was not denied to the disciples. “Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have re¬ ceived, freely give.” Even charlatanical wizards could perform prodigies which seemed miracles. In His time a certain Simon was doing miracles in Samaria; even the disciples of the Pharisees per¬ formed miracles. But miracles are not enough to enter into the Kingdom. “Many shall say to Me in that day. Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Thy name and in Thy name cast out devils, and in Thy name do many mighty works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you; depart from Me, all ye workers of iniquity.” It is not enough to cast out devils, if thou has not cast out the devil in thee, the devil of pride and cupidity. Even after His death men will see others perform miracles. “For there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect.” I have put you LIFE OF CHRIST 133 m your guard : do not believe in these signs and these wonders intil thou shalt see the Son of Man. The miracles of false prophets do not prove the truth of what they say. For all these reasons, Jesus abstained, as often as possible, ;rom working miracles, but He could not always resist the ^leadings of the sorrowful, and often His pity did not wait hr the request. For a miracle is an attribute of faith, and 3is faith is infinite, and that of the believers very great. But )ften, as soon as the healing was complete. He asked the ones 3e had healed to keep it secret. ^‘See thou tell no man; Go fhy way.’’ Those who do not listen to the truth of Christ, j)ecause they are troubled by the miracles, should remember [he profound saying which was addressed to Thomas, ^‘Blessed ire they that have not seen and yet have believed.” THE BLIND SEE Men cannot live without three things, bread, health and liope. Deprived of everything else men can — raging and cursing — go on living. But if they have not at least these hree, they hasten to summon Death, because without them ife is like Death. It is death with suffering added, an aggra- /ated, embittered, envenomed death, without even the anses- [letic of insensibility. Flunger is the wasting away of the ody; pain makes the body hateful; despair — not to expect nything better, a relief, an alleviation — takes the savor out ])f everything, takes away every reason to be, and every reason o act. There are men who do not kill themselves because uicide is an action. He who wishes to draw men to him must give them bread, lealth and hope. He must feed them, heal them and give hem faith in a more beautiful life. Jesus gives this faith. To those who followed Him into he wilderness and upon the mountains. He distributed naterial and spiritual bread. He was not willing to transform tones into loaves, but He made the real loaves of bread suffi- :ient for thousands. And the stones which men carry in their )reasts He changed into loving hearts. 134 LIFE OF CHRIST And He did not reject the sick. Jesus is no self-tormentor, no flagellant. He does not believe that pain is necessary to conquer evil. Evil is evil and must be driven away, but pain also is evil. Sorrow of the soul is enough for salvation: why should the body suffer also, needlessly? The old Jews thought of sickness as a punishment: Christians believe it above all as an aid to conversion. But Jesus does not believe in vengeance taken on the inno¬ cent, and does not expect that true salvation can be won by ulcers or by hair shirts. Render unto the body that which is the body’s due, and unto the soul that which is the soul’s. He likes the friendly supper-table; He does not refuse good old wine; and He does not send away women who pour per¬ fumes on His head and on His feet. Jesus can fast many days; He can be satisfied with a bit of bread, with half of a broiled fish; and He can sleep on the ground with His head on a stone; but till it is unavoidable He does not seek out want, hunger and suffering. Health seems to Him a good thing and the innocent pleasure of dining with friends; a cup of wine drunk in good company, the fragrance of a vase of nard, seem good and acceptable to Him also when such things cause no suffering to others. If a sick man accosts Him, He cures him. Jesus comes not to deny life, but to affirm it, to institute a happier and more perfect life. He does not purposely seek out the sick. His mission is to drive away spiritual suffering, to bring spiritual joy. But if, by the way, it happens to Him to drive out also suffering of the flesh, to quiet pain, to restore, along with the health of the soul, the health also of the body. He cannot refuse to do it. He shows Flimself adverse to it, for the most part, because His aim is higher; and He would not wish to appear in the eyes of the people like a vagabond wizard, or like the worldly Messiah whom most men were expecting. But since He wishes to conquer evil, and there are men who know Him capable of conquering all evils. His love is forced to drive out also those of the body. When, on the road trodden by men of health, there come^ towards Him groups of lepers, repellent, disfigured, horrible LIFE OF CHRIST 135 lepers, and when He sees that swollen lividness, the scaly skin showing through the torn clothes, that scabby, spotted, cracked skin, the withered, wrinkled skin which deforms the mouth, half-closes the eyes, and puffs up the hands; wretched, suffer¬ ing ghosts, shunned by every one, separated from every one, disgusting to every one, who are thankful if they have a little bread, a saucer for their water, the roof of an old shed for a hiding-place; when painfully bringing out the words through their swollen, ulcerated lips they beg Him, whom they know to be powerful in word and deed, beg Him, their only hope in their despair, for health, for a cure, for a miracle, how could Jesus shun them, as other men did, and ignore their prayer? And the epileptics, who writhe in the dust, their faces twisted in a set spasm, the froth on their lips; those possessed of devils who howl among the ruined tombs, evil dogs of the night, dis¬ consolate; the paralytics, trunks which have just enough feeling left to suffer, dead bodies inhabited by an imprisoned and sup¬ pliant soul; and the blind, the awful blind, shut up from their birth in the night — foretaste of the blackness of the tomb — stumbling in the midst of the fortunate men who go their way freely, the terrified blind, who walk with their heads held high, their eyes staring, as if the light could reach them from the depths of the infinite, the blind, for whom the world is only a series of more or less harsh surfaces, among which they grope; the blind, eternally alone, who know the sun only by its warmth, by the heat on their bodies 1 How could Jesus an¬ swer ‘‘No” to such wretchedness? THE ANSAVER TO JOHN Jesus heals the sick, but He is in no way like a wizard or an exorcist. He has no recourse to incantation, to amulets, to smoke, veils and mystery. He does not call to His aid the powers of Heaven or Hell. For Him a word is enough, a strong cry, a gentle accent, a caress. His will is enough, and the faith of the petitioner. To them all He puts the question, “Dost thou believe I can do this?” and when the cure is ac- 136 LIFE OF CHRIST complished, ^‘Go, thy faith hath made thee whole.’’ For Jesus the miracle is the union of two wills for good, the living con¬ tact between the faith of the healer and the faith of the one healed. Verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain. Remove hence, to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you. If ye had faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye might say unto this sycamine tree. Be thou plucked up by the root and be thou planted in the sea; and it should obey you.” Those who have no faith, not even as much as the thousandth part of a grain of mustard seed, swear that no man has this power, and that Jesus is an impostor. In the Gospels the miracles are called by three names: “Dunameis” — forces; ^Terata” — marvels; “Semeis” — signs. They are signs for those who remember the prophecies of the Messiah; they are ‘‘marvels” for those who look for proofs that Christ is the Messiah; but for Jesus and in Jesus there are only “Dunameis,” mighty works, victorious lightning- flashes from a superhuman power. The healings of Jesus are two-fold; they are healings not only of bodies but of souls, and it is soul-sickness which Jesus wishes especially to heal, so that the Kingdom of Heaven may be founded also on the earth. Most sickness is two-fold, mental and physical, and lends itself with singular exactitude to metaphors and allegory. Jesus cured the maimed, the halt, the fevered, a man with the dropsy, a woman with an issue of blood. He healed also a sword- wound — Malchus’ ear struck off by Peter on the night of Gethsemane — this only in order that His law . . . “do good to those who wrong you” . . . might be observed to the very last. But Jesus healed more often those possessed by devils, the paralytics, the lepers, the blind, the deaf-mutes. The old name for mental diseases is possession by devils; even Professor Aristotle believed in possession by devils. It was believed that lunatics, epileptics, hysterical patients, were in¬ vaded by malign spirits. The contradictory and often merely verbal explanations of the moderns does not invalidate the fact that demoniacs, in many cases, are such in the real sense LIFE OF CHRIST 137 of the word. This learned and popular explanation lent itself admirably to that allegorical and figurative teaching of which Jesus was so fond. He wished to found the Kingdom of God and supplant that of Satan. It was part of His mission to drive out demons. The difference between bodily disorders and actual malign obsessions was of no importance: between bodily infirmities and spiritual infirmities there is a parallelism of nomenclature, based on real affinity. There is a likeness between the maniac and the epileptic, between the paralytic .and the slothful, the vile and the leprous, the blind and he who cannot see the truth, the deaf and he who will not listen i to the truth, the cured and the resurrected. When John, shut up in prison, sent two disciples to ask Jesus if He were the awaited prophet, or whether they should ? await another, Jesus answered them, ^‘Go your way, and tell John what things ye have seen, and heard; how that the blind J see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the I dead are raised, to the poor the gospel is preached.’^ Jesus did not separate the gospel from miraculous cures. They are similar deeds; by that answer he meant that he had cured ■ bodies in order that the souls might be better disposed to re- : ceive the gospel. Those who did not see the light of the sun can now see ; the light of truth; those who did not hear even the words i of men can now hear the words of God; those who were i possessed of Satan are freed from Satan; those who were il foul and ulcerated are clean as children; those who could ' not move, who were strengthless and shrunken, now follow my footsteps; those who were dead to the life of the soul ! have risen at a word from me . . . and the poor, after the : Good News, are richer than the wealthy. These are my ; credentials, my letters proving my legitimacy. Jesus, Healer and Liberator, is not what the bad faith of ij His modern enemies wish to imagine Him, in order to gild once : more their comfortable paganism and to protect it against asceticism. ‘‘He is the God,^’ they say, “of the sick, the weak, the dirty, the wretched, the strengthless, the servants.” But ' all that Christ does is to give health, strength, purity, wealth, LIFE OF CHRIST 138 and liberty. He draws near to the sick precisely in order to drive away their sickness; to the weak to lift them out of their weakness; to the dirty in order to cleanse them; to slaves in order to free them. He does not love the sick only because they are sick: He loves health, just as the men of antiquity did, and He loves it so greatly that He longs to give it back to those who have lost it. Jesus is the prophet of happiness, the promiser of life, of life that is worthier to be lived. The miracles are only pledges of His promise. TALITHA QUMI ^The dead shall arise!” This is one of the signs which are to suffice for John the Baptist in prison. To the good sister, to the hard-working Martha, Jesus said, ‘T am the res¬ urrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth, and be¬ lieveth in me, shall never die.” The resurrection is a rebirth in faith, immortality is the permanent affirmation of this faith. The Evangelists know three resurrections, historical events narrated with a sober but explicit statement of the evidence. Jesus raised up three who were dead: a young lad, a little girl, and a friend. He was entering Nain, ^^the beautiful” set on a little hill some miles from Nazareth, and met a funeral procession. They were carrying to the grave the young son of a widow. She had lost her husband a short time before; this son alone had been left to her; now they were carrying away the son in turn for burial. Jesus saw the mother walking among the women, weeping with the amazed and smothered grief of mothers which is so profoundly moving. She had only two men in all the world who loved her; the first one was dead, the second was now dead; one after the other, both of them disappeared. She was left alone, a woman alone without a ,1 man. Without a husband, without a son, without a help, a prop, a comfort. Gone the love that was a memory of youth, gone the love that was hope for declining years. Gone both LIFE OF CHRIST 139 those poor, simple loves. ' A husband can console his wife for the loss of their son; a son can make up for the loss of a husband. If only one had been left! Now her lips were never to know another kiss. Jesus had compassion on this mother; her grief was like an accusation. ^Weep not,’’ he said. He went to the side of the cataleptic and touched him. The boy was lying there stretched out, wrapped in his shroud, but with his face uncovered, set in the stern paleness of the dead. The bearers halted; all were silent; even the mother, startled, was quiet. ^‘Young man, I say unto thee. Arise.” And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And He delivered him to his mother. He ‘‘delivered” him because he was now hers. Jesus had taken him from the land of death to give him back to her who could not live without him, that a mother might cease from weeping. Another day as he was returning from Gadara, a father fell at His feet. His only little daughter lay at the point of death. The man’s name was Jairus, and although he was a leader at the Synagogue he believed in Jesus. They went along to¬ gether. When they were half-way, a servant met them, saying, “Thy daughter is dead; trouble not the Master.” But when Jesus heard it, He answered him, saying, “Fear not: believe only, and she shall be made whole.” And when He came into the house He suffered no man to go in, save Peter, and James, and John, and the father and the mother of the maiden. And all wept, and bewailed her: but He said, “Weep not; she is not dead, but sleepeth.” And they laughed Him to scorn, know¬ ing that she was dead. And He put them all out, and took her by the hand, and called, saying, “Maid, arise.” And her spirit came again, and she arose straightway: and He com¬ manded to give her meat. She was not a visible spirit, a ghost, but a living body, awakened a little weak, ready for a . new day after feverish dreams. I 140 LIFE OF CHRIST LAZARUS AWAKENED ! Lazarus and Jesus loved each other. More than once Jesus had eaten in his house at Bethany with him and his sisters. Now one day Lazarus fell ill, and sent word of it to Jesus, i And Jesus answered, ^This sickness is not unto death.” Two ; days went by. But on the third day He said to His disciples, | ‘‘Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake I him out of sleep.” He was near to Bethany when Martha I came to meet Him as if to reproach Him. | “Lord, if Thou hadst been here my brother had not died.” I And a little later Mary too said, “Lord, if Thou hadst been f here, my brother had not died.” Their repeated reproach I touched Jesus, not because He feared He had come too late, f but because He was always saddened by the lack of faith even | of those dearest to Him. | “And he said. Where have ye laid him? They said unto| him. Lord, come and see. . . . Jesus therefore again groan- 1 ing in himself cometh to the grave. It was a cave and a stone | lay upon it. Jesus said, Take ye away the stone.” |: Martha, the housekeeper, the practical, concrete character, | interrupted, “Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath beenf dead four days.” But Jesus did not heed her, “Take away | the stone.” And the stone was rolled away. Jesus made a t; T?-’ '* short prayer. His face lifted towards the sky, drew near to the| hole and called His friend in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come| forth.” I And Lazarus came forth, stumbling, for his hands and feetf were shrouded and his face covered with a napkin. i “Loose him, and let him go.” | And all four, followed by the Twelve and by a throng off thunderstruck Jews, returned to the house. Lazarus^ eyes grewii wonted again to the light. He walked on his feet, althoughli with pain, and used his hands. Martha, moving rapidly, goti together the best dinner she could in the confusion after fourf days of demoralized sorrow — and the man come back to lifel;; after death ate with his sister and his friends. Mary could^ scarcely swallow a mouthful of food, nor take her eyes fronti LIFE OF CHRIST 141 the conqueror of death, who, having wiped the tears from His eyes, broke His bread and drank His wine as if this day were like any other day. These are the resurrections narrated by the Evangelists, and from their account we can draw some observations which will allow us to dispense with learned, that is to say with unsuit¬ able, commentaries. In all His life, Jesus raised from the dead only three persons, and this He did, not to make a show of His power and to strike the imagination of the people, but only because He was touched by the sorrow of those who loved the dead, to console a mother, a father, two sisters. Two of these resurrections were public; one, that of the daughter of Jairus, was accomplished in the presence of very few, and Jesus asked those few to say nothing about it. Another point, and the most important; in all these three cases Jesus spoke to the dead person as if he were not dead but only asleep. He had no time to say anything about the condition of the son of the widow, because that decision was taken too rapidly, but even to him, He said, as to a child, idly oversleeping, ‘‘Young man, I say unto thee, arise.” When they told Him that the daughter of Jairus was dead. He an¬ swered, “Weep not, she is not dead but sleepeth.” When they confirmed the news of the death of Lazarus, He insisted, “He is not dead but sleepeth.” He made no claim to bring back from the dead, only to awaken. Death for Him was only a sleep, a deeper sleep than the common sleep of everyday, a sleep only to be broken by a superhuman love. This love was for the survivors more than for the dead; it was the love of one whose tears flow at the sight of others’ tears. THE MARRIAGE AT CANA Jesus liked to go to weddings. For the man of the people who very seldom gives way to lavishness and gayety, who never eats and drinks as much as he would like, the day of his wedding is the most remarkable of all his life, a rich passage of generous gayety in his long, drab, commonplace existence. Wealthy people who can have banquets every evening, mod- >1 142 LIFE OF CHRIST erns who gulp down in a day what would have sufficedj for a week to the poor man of olden times, no longer feel] the solemn joyfulness of that day. But the poor man in the ] old days, the workingman, the countryman, the Oriental who| lived all the year round on barley-bread, dried figs and a few ^ fish and eggs, and only on great days killed a lamb or a kid, | the man accustomed to stint himself, to calculate closely, to dispense with many things, to be satisfied with what is strictly necessary, saw in weddings the truest and greatest festival of ■ his life. The other festivals, those of the people and those of the Church, were the same for everybody, and they are repeated every twelfth month; but a wedding was his very own festival and only came once for him in all the cycle of his years. Then all the delights and splendors of the world were cen¬ tered around the bride and groom, to make the day unfor¬ gettable for them. Torches went at night to meet the groom with singers, dancers and musicians. The house was filled with abundance, all sorts of meats cooked in all sorts of ways; wine-skins of wine leaning against the walls, vases of unguents . for the friends; light, music, perfumes, gayety, dancing; noth-j ing was lacking for the gratification of the senses. On that one day all the things which are the daily privilege of princes and rich men triumphed in the poor man’s house. Jesus was pleased by this innocent joy, and touched by the exultation of those simple souls, snatched for those few hours from the gloomy, niggardly poverty of their everyday life. In weddings He saw more than a mere festival. Marriage is the supreme effort of the youth of man to conquer Fate with love, with the union of two affections, with the joining of two loving j youths. It is the affirmation of a double faith in life, in the continuity and stability of life. The man who marries is a hostage in the hands of human society. Making himself the i head of a new society and father of a new generation, he frees i himself while he professes to bind himself. Marriage is a j promise of happiness, and an acceptance of suffering. Illusion i and conscience have their part in it In the shadow of tragedy, , which sends over the future a trembling hope of joy, is the : LIFE OF CHRIST 143 jf'i heroic and holy greatness of marriage, which cannot be dis- : pensed with, and yet, in the light of selfish reason, should not be accepted. Who has ever seen, except in this case, a con¬ demnation so eagerly longed for? For Jesus marriage has a still deeper meaning: it is the beginning of something eternal. Whom God hath joined, man cannot put asunder. When hearts have been united and bodies I joined, no law nor sword can sever them. In this our human ; life, changeable, ephemeral, evasive, failing, frail, there is only I one thing that ought to last forever till death and beyond death, j — marriage, the only link of eternity in the perishable chain. Jesus often speaks of weddings and banquets. Among the most beautiful parables is that of the King who sent out in¬ vitations to the wedding of his son, that other of the Virgins who wait by night for the arrival of the bridegroom’s friend; I and that of the Lord who prepared a banquet. Christ com- I pares Himself to a bridegroom feasted by His friends when He answers those who are scandalized because His disciples eat and drink. ! He did not despise wine, and when with His Twelve, He drinks that wine which is His blood. He thinks of the new wine of the Kingdom. It is not surprising therefore that He should have accepted the invitation to the wedding at Cana. Every one knows the miracle He wrought that day. Six jars I of water were changed by Jesus into wine, and into wine better than that which had been drunk. Old rationalists say that this t was a present of wine kept hidden until then, a surprise of Jesus at the end of the meal, in honor of the bride and groom. And six hundred quarts of wine, they add, are a fine present, showing the liberality of the Master. ; These Voltairian vermin have not noticed that only John, the man of allegories, the philosophizer, tells of the Marriage at Cana. It was not a sleight-of-hand trick, but a true trans¬ mutation, performed with the power of Spirit over matter, and at the same time it is one of those Parables in fact, instead of in words, a Parable told by actual deeds. ‘ But whoever does not stop at the literal meaning of the story, sees that the water turned into wine symbolizes the 144 LIFE OF CHRIST new epoch which begins with the Gospel. Before the Annun¬ ciation and the vigil in the desert, water was enough; the world was left to sorrow. But now the joyful tidings are come, the Kingdom is at hand, happiness is near. Men are about to pass from sadness to joy, from the widowhood of the old law to the new marriage with the new law. The Bridegroom is with us. Now is no time for sadness, but for enthusiasm. There will be no more fasting but rejoicings; no more water but wine. Remember the words of the steward to the Bridegroom, “Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse : but Thou hast kept the good wine until now.” Such was the old usage, the usage of the Jews of old times and of the heathen. But Jesus meant to overturn this old amphictyonic usage also. The men of old gave the good and then the poor; He, after the good wine, gives better. Sour, unripened wine, the poor qual¬ ity which was drunk at the beginning, symbolizes the wine of the old law, the wine that has turned sour and can no longer be drunk. Christ’s wine, finer and stronger, which cheers the heart and warms the blood, is the new wine of the Kingdom, wine intended for the marriage of Heaven and earth, wine which gives that divine intoxication which will be called later, “the foolishness of God.” The marriage of Cana, which in John is the first miracle, is an allegory of the evangelical revolution. THE ACCURSED FIG-TREE Another parable expressed in the form of a miracle is that of the withered fig-tree. One morning towards Easter, re¬ turning from Bethany to Jerusalem, Jesus was hungry. He came up to a fig-tree and found only leaves. It was too earlj to expect fruit, even from the earliest species. Yet Jesus according to Matthew and Mark, was angry at the poor tree and cursed it. According to Matthew, “Let no fruit grow on thee hence forward forever.” And presently the fig-tree withered away. LIFE OF CHRIST 145 According to Mark, ‘^No man eat fruit of thee hereafter for¬ ever. . . . And in the morning, as they passed by, they saw the fig-tree dried up from the roots.’’ In the Evangelists the account of the curse is followed by a return to the thought many times expressed by jesus, that anything can be obtained if asked for with powerful faith. Others instead see here a metaphorical lament which many times returned to Jesus’ lips. The fig-tree is Israel, the old Judaic religion, which from now on will bear only unnourish¬ ing leaves of rites and ceremonies, leaves fated to shrivel without nourishing men. Jesus, hungry for justice, hungry for love, sought among the leaves for sustaining fruits of mercy and holiness. He did not find them. Israel did not feed His hunger nor fulfill His hope. From now on nothing can be expected from the old trunk, leafy but sterile. May it be dead to all eternity! Other races will henceforth be fruitful. The miracle of the cursed fig-tree is at bottom nothing more than a very apparent gloss of the parable of the sterile fig-tree in Luke. ^^A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his vine¬ yard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard. Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig-tree and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?” And he answering said unto him, ^Tord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it and dung it: and if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down.” The tree was not condemned at first, but after three years of sterility, and even then by the intercession of the workman, was given a year’s respite, and in that year the plant was handled and treated with loving care. That was to be the final test: only if all care was unavailing was it to be hewn down and burned. For three years Jesus had preached to the Jews, and He was thinking of giving them up, and announcing the Kingdom to others. But one of His workers, a disciple still attached to his people, asked for mercy; one respite more. We shall see whether even great love could convert this adulterous and bas- 146 LIFE OF CHRIST tard generation. But when they were on the road from Beth¬ any, Judaism had been put to the test, Christ had only His Cross to expect. The evil fig-tree of Judaism deserved to be burned and from that time on no one will eat its tardy, with¬ ered fruit. BREAD AND FISHES On two occasions there was a multiplication of bread, alike in all details except the proportions of the quantities involved, — that is, in exactly what give them their real spiritual mean¬ ing. Thousands of poor people had followed Jesus into a place in the wilderness, far from any settlements. For three days they had not eaten, so hungry were they for the bread of life which is His word. But on the third day, Jesus took pity on them — there were women and children among them — and or¬ dered His disciples to feed the multitude. But they had only a little bread and a few fishes, and there were thousands of mouths. Then Jesus had them all sit down on the ground on the green grass, in circles of fifty to a hundred. He blessed the small amount of food they had; all were satisfied, and baskets of the broken pieces were left. The less there is of the true bread, the bread of truth, the more it satisfies. The old law is abundant, copious, divided into innumerable sections. There are hundreds of precepts written in the books and thousands more invented by the Scribes and Pharisees. At first sight it seems a gigantic table where a whole race could be satisfied. But all these precepts, these rules and formulas are only dry leaves, shavings, trash. No one can live on such fare. The more numerous they are, the less they satisfy. Humble and simple people cannot satisfy their hunger for justice with these innumerable but inedible viands. Instead, one Word alone sums up all the words and transcends the petrified bigotry beloved by the complacent and satiated; one Word which fills the soul, which reconciles hearts, which calms the hunger for justice; the multitudes will be satisfied and there will be enough to eat also for those who LIFE OF CHRIST ^47 were not present on that day. Spiritual bread is in itself miraculous. A loaf of wheat bread is only enough for a very few, and when they have finished it, there is no more for any one! But the bread of truth, that mystic bread of Joy is never finished, can never be finished. Give it out to thousands and it is always there; distribute it to millions, and it is always intact. Every one has taken his part as the men and women in the wilderness did, and as much as was given out, so much the more remains for those who are to come. Another day when the disciples found themselves without bread, Jesus admonished them to bev/are of the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees. And the disciples, almost always slow to understand Him, said among themselves, ‘‘It is be¬ cause we have taken no bread.” Which when Jesus perceived he said unto them, “O ye of little faith, why reason ye among yourselves, because ye have brought no bread? Do ye not yet understand neither remember the five loaves of the five thousand and how many baskets ye took up? Neither the seven loaves of the four thousand and how many baskets ye took up? How is it that ye do not understand that I spake it not to you concerning bread, that ye should beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees?” That is, of the blind guardians of the degenerate law. They are the Twelve, the chosen, the blest, the faithful, and yet they cannot understand at once, do not sufficiently believe. Again in the boat, the night of the tempest, Jesus was obliged to reprove them. The Master had gone to sleep in the stern. His head on the pillow of one of the rowers. Sud¬ denly the wind rose, a storm came down on the lake, the waves beat against the boat and it seemed from one moment to the next that they would be wrecked. The disciples, alarmed, awakened Jesus, “Master, carest thou not that we perish?” And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, “Peace, be still.” And the wind ceased and there was a great calm. And He said unto them, “Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?” And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, “What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” 148 LIFE OF CHRIST There is one, Simon Peter, who has no fear. Not only does his nature transcend the human, but great is his faith, great his love, great his power of will. Nothing animate nor inani- mate can resist these three great qualities. A man who pos¬ sesses them has renounced all that is temporal and is victorious over time. He has renounced the good things of the flesh, and for this reason can save the flesh; he has renounced material things and so is master of matter. Every one can partake of this power. Faith is sufficient, but it must not be faith only in oneself. A few years before Christ, a great Italian, captain in many wars, corrupt but a fitting ruler over the putrefaction of the Re¬ public, was on the sea, on a real sea, in a boat with a few rowers, in search of an army which had not come up in time to win the victory for him. The wind began to blow, the tempest bore down on the boat and the pilot wished to turn back to the harbor. But Caesar, taking the hand of the pilot, said to him, “Go forward, fear not, Caesar is with thee and his fortune sails with you.’’ These words of haughty self- confidence heartened the crew; every one, as if a little of Caesar’s strength had entered into his soul, did his best to overcome the opposition of the sea. But notwithstanding the efforts of the seamen the ship was nearly sunk and was obliged to turn back. Caesar’s faith was only pride and ambition, faith in himself: Christ’s faith was all love, love for the Father, love for men. With this love He could walk to meet the boat of the dis¬ ciples tacking against a contrary wind, and could step upon the water as on the grass of a meadow. They thought in the dark¬ ness that it was a specter, and once again He was obliged to reassure them, “Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid.” As soon as He was in the boat, the wind fell and in a few minutes they reached the shore. Once again they were astounded be¬ cause, says the honest Mark, “For they considered not the miracle of the loaves: for their heart was hardened.” This comparison may seem ingenuous, but it is revealing, for the miracle of the loaves is the foundation of all the others. Every parable spoken in poetic words or expressed with visible LIFE OF CHRIST 149 prodigies was as bread prepared in different manners, so that His own followers, at least His very own, should understand the one needful truth that the Spirit is the only fare worthy of man, and that the man who is nourished on that fare is master of the world. NOT secretive: a poet Jesus seems at first sight secretive. He orders those affected by miracles to say to no man who has cured them; He wishes prayers and charity to be done secretly; when the disciples recognize that He is the Christ, He charges them not to repeat it; after the Transfiguration He bids the three keep silence, and when He teaches He uses parables which all men are not capable of understanding. On further thought, on really considering the matter, it is apparent that Jesus has nothing of the esoteric. He has no secret doctrine to impart to a few acolytes. His words are public and open. He always speaks in the public squares of cities, on the beaches of lakes, in the Synagogue, in the midst of the people. He forbids speaking of His miracles in order that He may not be confused with wizards and exor¬ cists;’ He commands to do good secretly in order to keep vainglory from destroying merit; He does not wish the Twelve to proclaim Him the Christ before His entry into Jerusalem, the public inauguration of His Messiahship; and He speaks in parables to be better understood by the simple who listen more willingly to a story than to a sermon, and remember a narration better than an argument. Three of the Evangelists report a speech of Jesus, which seems to contradict this view. ‘‘Unto you,” He is speaking to the disciples, “it is given to know the mysteries of the King¬ dom of God, but to others it is not given; therefore I speak to them in parables that seeing they might not see, and hearing they might not understand.” But Jesus means only to say this, “You understand these mysteries, but the many do not understand them, although they have ears and spirits like yours. And to them that they LIFE OF CFIRIST ISO may understand I speak in parables, — that is, in a figurative language of facts because it is easier and more familiar.” You teach children with fables and the simple with stories, and ‘‘the many” have remained like the simple and the childish. To overcome the slowness of their minds I use words adapted to their nature. They are all fancy, and little intellect; and the parables are an appeal to the imagination more than to the reasoning powers. I do not employ them therefore to hide the truth, but the better to reveal it to those who could not see it in a purely rational form. For if then they do not understand, it is the fault of their obstinacy, which often closes the eyes and ears of the soul. Jesus had no mysteries to dissemble. It was His wish that all, even the most humble and ignorant, should understand Him. The parables were not made to hide His teaching from the profane, but to make it more explicit and understandable to every one. That sometimes even the intelligence of the Twelve is inferior to this task is a melancholy conclusion by no means unknown to Jesus. The marvelous content of His message has cast into the shade His poetic originality, not less marvelous. Jesus never wrote — once only He wrote on the sand, and the wind destroyed forever His handwriting — ^but in the midst of a peo¬ ple of powerful imagination, of the people who wrote the Psalter, the story of Ruth, the book of Job, the Song of Songs, He would have been one of the greatest poets of all times. His victorious youthfulness of spirit, the racy, popular lan¬ guage of the country where He grew up, the books He had read, few but among the richest of all poetry — His loving com¬ munion with the life of the fields and of animals and above all His divine and passionate yearning to give light to those who suffer in the dark, to save those who are being lost forever, to carry supreme happiness to the most unhappy (because true poetry does not catch its fire from the light of the lantern but i at the light of the stars and of the sun, is not found in the writings left behind by great-grandfathers, but in love, in sor¬ row in the deeply moved soul); these things combined made of Jesus a poet, an inventor of living and eternal images with LIFE OF CHRIST 151 which he achieved a miracle on which the Evangelists make no comment, — the miracle of communicating the highest truth by the means of stories so simple, familiar, full of grace that after twenty centuries they shine with that unique youth which is eternity. Some of these stories are only idyllic or epic restate¬ ments of revelations which at other times He expounded in ab¬ stract words; but there are some which express things never said in any other form in His teaching. The parables are the imaginative comments on the Sermon on the Mount, such as could be made only by a poet who merits the title of divine more truly than any other poet ever born. YEAST City ladies do not make their own bread, but old country¬ women and housewives know what yeast is. A handful of dough from the last baking as big as a child’s hand, wet with warm water and put into the new dough, raises even as much as three measures of flour. Among the seeds of plants that of the mustard is among the smallest; it can hardly be seen, but from this tiny little seed, if it is put into good earth, springs up a fine shrub, and the fowls of the air lodge in the branches of it. The grain of wheat is not large, the farmer throws it into the ground and then goes on about his other affairs; he sleeps, he goes away from home and comes back. Days pass and nights pass, no thought is given to the seed, but underneath there in the moist, plowed field the seed has germinated. There comes out a blade of green and at the top of this blade an ear, at first green and graceful, then little by little becoming golden grain. Now the field is ready for the mowing and the farmer can commence his harvesting. Likewise with the Kingdom of Heaven and the first news of it. A word seems nothing. What is a word? Syllables, sounds, which come from the lips, enter with difficulty into the ears and only when they come from the heart find other hearts; it is a little thing, small, a breath, a sigh, a sound which comes and goes and the wind carries it away. And yet 152 LIFE OF CHRIST the word of the Kingdom is like yeast. If it goes into good flour, clean honest flour not adulterated with other grains, it ferments and grows. It is like the seed of the fields which ger¬ minates deep under the ground, patient as the earth which hides it, which, when Spring comes, grows green and strong and with the beginning of summer, lo, the harvest is ready I The gospel is made up of few words, ‘The Kingdom is at hand, change your souls ! but if it falls into the heart of men ready for it, of simple men who wish to become great, of righteous men who wish to become holy, of sinners who seek in good for that happiness which they have vainly sought in evil, then those words take root in the depths, put out buds and shoots, flourish up in clusters and ears, and luxuriate in a summer never to be followed by the decay of Autumn. Only a few men of those living about Christ believed in the Kingdom and prepared themselves for the great day. Only a few, insignificant men, scattered like tiny particles of yeast in the midst of the divided nations and the immense Empires, but these few dozen insignificant men gathered together in the midst of a predestined people were to become, through the contagion of their example, thousands upon thousands, and only three hundred years after them, in the place of Tiberius, ruled a man who bowed the knee before the heirs of the Apostles. But men must renounce everything else if they are to enjoy the promised Kingdom. Worldly-minded men do the same in their temporal affairs. If a man working in another’s field dis¬ covers a treasure-store, he quickly hides it again and hurries to sell all that he has to buy that field. If a merchant looking for marvelous jewels worthy to be offered to monarchs, finds a pearl larger and purer than any he has ever seen, he goes and sells everything that he has, even the other pearls of less price, to buy this unique and wonderful pearl. If the workman and the merchant, material-minded men, who are satisfied with frail acquisitions, are thus ready to sell all their goods to acquire a treasure which seems to them more precious than anything they possess, even though it is only a material and perishable treasure, how much more reason there LIFE OF CHRIST 153 is for men to renounce what they hold most dear, in order to achieve the Kingdom of God. If the laboring-man and the merchant for a money gain, likely to be stolen or destroyed, thus consent to a provisional sacrifice which will give them a hundred per cent profit, ought not we for an infinitely greater, infinitely higher profit, throw away the best we have, even if it has seemed until now of inestimable price? But before we make this renunciation we must take thought and be sure that what remains to us will be enough to take us to the end of this new undertaking. We must measure the forces of our soul, that it may not happen to us as to the man who wished to build up a tower, a beautiful tower which would soar up to the sky like that of Jerusalem. He took no account of the cost but called the diggers, had the foundations ex¬ cavated; called the masons and had the four walls of the foundations begun; but when the tower had scarcely been raised above the level of the earth, and was not yet as high as the roof of a house, he was obliged to stop because he had no more money to pay for the mortar, the stones, the bricks and the working men; and the tower remained thus, low and unsightly, in memory of his presumption: and his neighbors mocked at him. A king who wants to make war on another king first takes account of his soldiers, and if he can count only on ten thousand and the other has twenty thousand, he puts off any idea of war, and sends an embassy of peace before his enemy can take the first hostile step. He who is not sure of himself, of being able to conquer to the last, does not follow Christ. For the foundation of the Kingdom is infinitely harder work than the building of a tower, and the creation of the new man is war not less harsh than external war, although silent and inner. THE BANQUET Only the clean of heart can enter into the Kingdom. The Kingdom is an eternal feast, and only those dressed for a feast can go there. There was a King who celebrated his son’s wedding, and those whom he invited did jaot come. Then 154 LIFE OF CHRIST the King called in the common people, the passers-by, the beggars, every one; but when the King came into the ban¬ queting hall and saw one of the guests all filthy with grease and mud, he had him cast outside the door, to gnash his teeth in the coldness of night. At the banquet of the Kingdom if the first called do not come, all are accepted; even the wretched and the sinners. The King had invited first the chosen people; but one had bought a piece of ground, another five yoke of oxen, a third had taken a wife that day. They were all deep in their affairs, and some did not even trouble to send an excuse Then the King sent his servants to pick up out of the streets the blind, the poor, the maimed and the halt, the lowest of the rabble; and still there was room. Then he commanded that those who passed in front of his palace should be forced to come in, whoever they might be; and the banquet began. It was a royal banquet, a rich and magnificent feast; but after all, it consisted in enjoying lamb and fish, in getting drunk on wine and cider. At the break of day the bonfire was burned out, the tables were cleared, every one had to return to his home and to his poverty. If some of those whom the King first invited preferred another material pleasure to this ma¬ terial pleasure it was pardonable But the invitation to the banquet of the Kingdom is a prom¬ ise of spiritual happiness, absolute, satisfying, perpetual. Something else than the passing amusements of terrestrial life: nauseating drunkenness, food that distends the stomach, sens¬ ual pleasures that leave a man bone-weary and defiled. And yet the men whom Jesus chose among all other men, and called first of all to the divine feast of the reborn, did not respond. They m,ade wry faces, complained, slipped away and continued their habitual low actions. They preferred the rubbish of carnal goods to the splendor of high hope which is the only reasonable reason for living. Then all the others were called in their place: beggars instead of the rich, sinners instead of Pharisees, women of the streets instead of fine ladies, the sick and sorrowing instead of the strong and happy. LIFE OF CHRIST 155 Even the latest arrivals if they come in time will be admitted to the feast. The master of the vineyard saw in the market¬ place certain laborers who were waiting for work, sent them out to prune his vines, and agreed on their wages. Later at noon-day he saw others without work and sent also those; and still later more again, and he sent them all. And they all worked, some at pruning and some at hoeing, and when the evening came the master gave the same pay to all. But those who had begun in the morning early, murmured, “Why do those who have worked less than we receive the same pay¬ ment?” But the master answered one of them and said “Didst not thou agree with me for a penny; why then dost thou lament? If it is my pleasure to give the same to the working men of the last hour, is that robbing you others?” The apparent injustice of the master is only a more gener¬ ous justice. To all he gives what he has promised, and he who arrived last but works with equal hope has the same right as the others to enjoy that Kingdom for which he has labored until the night. Woe to him who comes too late! No one knows the exact day, but after that hour he who has not gone in will knock at the door, and it will not be opened to him, and he will mourn in outer darkness. The master has gone to the wedding and the servants do not know when he will com_e back. Fortunate are those who have waited for him and whom he will find awake. The master himself will seat them at the table and will serve them. But if he find them sleeping, if no one is ready to receive him, if they make him knock at the door before opening it, if they come to meet him disheveled, tousled, half-clad, and if he finds in the house no lamp lighted, no water warmed, he will take the servants by the arm and drive them out without pity. Every one should be ready because the Son of Man is like a thief in the night who sends no word beforehand when he will come. Or like a bridegroom who has been detained by some one in the street. In the house of the bride there are ten virgins who are waiting to go to meet him with the light LIFE OF CHRIST 156 of the procession. Five, the wise virgins, take oil for their lamps, and wait to hear the voices and the steps of the ap¬ proaching bridegroom. The other five, the foolish, do not think of the oil, and, tired of waiting, fall asleep. And sud¬ denly there is the sound of the nuptial procession arriving. The five wise virgins light their lamps and run out into the street joyfully to welcome the bridegroom. The other five wake up with a start and ask their companions to give them a little oil. But the others say, “Why did you not provide for that sooner? Go and buy some.” And the foolish run from one house to another to get a little oil; but everybody is asleep, and nobody answers them, and the shops are closed and the roaming dogs bark at their heels. They go back to the house of the wedding, but now the door is closed. The five wise virgins are already there and feasting with the bride¬ groom. The five foolish virgins knock and beg and cry out, but no one comes to open for them. Through the cracks in the window casings they see the glowing lights of the supper. They hear the clatter of the dishes, the clinking of the cups, the songs of the young men, the sound of the musical instru¬ ments, but they cannot enter. They must stay there until morning, in the dark, and the wind. Shut out from the pleasures of the evening festival, they tremble and shake in terror. THE NARROW GATE “Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat: Because strait is the gate, narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” Those who will try to enter will fail, because the master of the house, when he has shut his door, will no longer recognize any one. Until the great day, until it is too late, “Ask and it shall be given to you; seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you.” Even hard, slothful, obstinate men give way to persistent entreaty. If even men are not always in- LIFE OF CHRIST i57 sensible to pleadings how much surer will be the response from a Father who loves us? A man at midnight knocks at the door of a friend and wakens him. Through the door he says to him, “Friend, lend me three loaves; For a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him.” But the other, still half asleep, replies, “Trouble me not: for I am tired, and I do not wish to arise. And here in my bed I have my children who are asleep and if I get up I will wake them and chill them.” But the other will not give up, and knocks again on the door and raises his voice and begs with clasped hands that the other one will do him this service, for he has no other friends near, and the hour is late and his guest hungry and waiting for him. And he storms so at the door that his friend gets out of bed and lets him come in and gives him as many loaves as he needs. The friend was weak, but good-hearted. And even the bad-hearted do as he does. There was in a certain city a judge who cared for no one, a morose and scornful man who wanted to do everything as it suited him best. A widow went every day before him and asked for justice, and although her cause was just the judge always sent her away and would not do what she wished. But the widow patiently endured all his repulses and did not weary in her importunity. And finally the judge to get rid of this woman who wore him out with her supplications, pleadings, and prayers, gave the sen¬ tence and sent her in peace. But no more must be asked than can be expected. He who has accomplished his task will eat and drink but will not have any special place of honor, nor will he be better served than his brother, and certainly not so well as his superior. When the servant, having been in the field sowing or pasturing the cattle, comes back to the house, the master does not call him to eat at his own table, but first is served himself and afterwards gives the servant the meal which is due him. This is a Parable which Jesus meant for His Apos¬ tles, who were already disputing about who would have the highest place in the Kingdom. “Doth he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him? I trow 158 LIFE OF CHRIST not. So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things ' which were commanded you, say: We are unprofitable serv-i ants: we have done that which was our duty to do.” i The only thing which counts is the actual doing. There ^ are those who say “yes” to orders but who after this do noth¬ ing. Such men shall be condemned more severely than those who refused openly and then afterwards, repentant, obeyed.' A father had two sons and said to the older, “Son, go work to-day in my vineyard.” And the son answered, “I go, sir,” but instead of going to work in the vineyard he lay down in the shade to sleep. And the father said to the second, “Go too and work with your brother.” But the son answered, “No, to-day I wish to rest because I am not well.” But later, think¬ ing of the old man who could not do the work himself any longer, he took back his refusal, overcame his indolence and went to the vineyard and worked with a will till evening. To listen to the word of the Kingdom is not enough. To consent verbally and to live just as before, without effort to change the heart, is less than nothing. “Whosoever cometh to me, and heareth my sayings, and doeth them, I will show you to whom he is like ; He is like a man which built an house, and digged deep, and laid the foundation on a rock, and when the flood arose, the stream beat vehemently upon that house, and could not shake it, for it was founded upon a rock. But he that heareth and doeth not, is like a man that without a foun¬ dation built an house upon the earth ; against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately it fell ; and the ruin of that house was great.” The same teaching is in the Parable of the Sowing, “A sower went out to sow his seed : and as he sowed, some fell by the wayside; and it was trodden down, and the fowls of the air devoured it, and some fell upon a rock; and as soon as it was sprung up, it withered away, because it lacked mois¬ ture. And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprang upi with it and choked it. And other fell on good ground, and! sprang up and bare fruit an hundredfold.” This is the Parable which the Twelve were incapable of understanding. Jesus was obliged to explain it Himself. The seed is the Word of God. LIFE OF CHRIST 159 Those by the wayside are they that hear, then cometh Satan and taketh the Word out of their hearts lest they should believe and be saved. They on the rock are they which when they hear receive the Word with joy, and these have no root which for a while believe and in time of temptation fall away. And that which fell among thorns are they which when they have heard go forth and are choked with cares and riches and pleas¬ ures of this life, and bring no fruit to perfection. But that on the good ground are they which in an honest and good heart having heard the Word keep it and bring forth fruit with patience. But it is not enough to hear it merely, to under¬ stand it, to practice it. He who has received it should not keep it to himself. Who is the man who having a lamp hides it under the bed or covers it with a vessel? The light should stand high in the center of the room that they which enter in may see it and be lighted. A Lord traveling into a far country left to each of his servants ten talents with the understanding that they should use the money to good purpose. And when he came back he reckoned with them. And the first delivered to him twenty talents, because with the first ten he had earned ten other talents. And the Lord made him steward over all his goods. And the second delivered him fifteen talents, for he had not been able to earn more than five more. But the third presented himself timorously and showed him, wrapped up in a napkin, the ten talents which he had received. ‘Tord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed: And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talents in the earth.^’ And the Lord answered, ‘Thou wicked and slothful servant, I will judge thee by thine own words. Take the talents and give them to him who has twenty.’’ But he has already plenty. “I say unto you,” answered the Lord, “For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.” And the unprofitable servant was cast into outer darkness, where there was weeping and gnashing of teeth. He who has received the Word ought to double his wealth. i6o LIFE OF CHRIST He has received so great a treasure that if he leaves it useless, he deserves to have it taken away from him. From him who does not add to it shall be taken away even that which he has, and unto him who has doubled his treasures shall be given even more. Those who do not use the treasure of the Word are not poverty-stricken men who need gifts because they are destitute, but faithless and slothful husband¬ men, to whom was entrusted the most fruitful field in all the universe. Happy the steward whom the Master shall find attentive to act justly and to give to all their rightful part of the harvest. But if the steward begins to oppress the serv¬ ing men and women and thinks only of eating and getting drunk he will be scourged and punished when the Master re¬ turns, just punishment for the faithless! The servant who does not know what the Master wishes done, and so, not knowing, does not carry out His wishes, shall be less punished than he who knew, and still does the contrary, for he shall be driven out of the house v/here he gave orders. The bearers of the Word have no excuse if they are not the first to obey God’s wishes. From him to whom much was given, much shall be required. THE PRODIGAL SON A man had two sons. His wife was dead, but he still had these tv\^o sons, only two. But two are always better than one. If the first is away from home, the second is still there; if the younger fall ill, the older works for two; if one should die . . . even children die, even the young die, and sometimes before the old ... if one of the two should die, there is at least one left who will care for the poor father. This man loved his sons, not only because they were of his blood but because he had a loving heart. He loved them both, the older and the younger; perhaps the younger a little more than the older, but so little that he did not realize it himself. Fathers and mothers often have a weakness for the youngest because he is the smallest, he is the sweetest, he is the last baby, and after his birth there was never another one, so that LIFE OF CHRIST i6i his boyhood, still so recent, so prolonged, stretches out to the sill of his young manhood like a lingering halo of tenderness. It seems only yesterday that he was a baby at the breast, that he took his first stumbling steps, that he sprang up to embrace his father, or sat astride his knees. But this man was not partial. He loved his sons ‘like his two eyes and his two hands, equally dear, one at the left, one at the right, and he saw to it that both were happy. Noth¬ ing lacked for either one. And yet, even in the case of sons of one father, it almost never happens that tv>^o brothers have the same tastes or even similar tastes. The older was a serious-minded young man, sedate, settled, who seemed already grown up and mature, a husband, the head of a family. He respected his father, but more as master than as father, without any impulsive show of affection. He worked faithfully, but he was hard and cap¬ tious with the servants; he went through all the religious forms, but did not let the poor come about him. Although the house was full of all possible good things, yet for them there was never anything. He pretended to love his brother, but his heart was full of the poison of envy. When people say ^^to love like a brother” they say the contrary of what ought to be said. Brothers very rarely love each other. Jew¬ ish history, not to speak of any other, begins with Cain, goes on with Jacob’s cheating Esau, with Joseph sold by his brothers, with Absalom, who killed Amon, with Solomon who had Adonijah killed: a long bloody road of jealousy, opposi¬ tion and betrayal. It would be more correct to say ^^a father’s love,” rather than a brother’s. The second son seemed of another race. He was younger and was not ashamed to be young. He splashed about and made merry in his youth as in a warm lake. He had all the desires, the graces, and the defects of his age. He was fitful with his father. One day he hurt him, the next, put him into the seventh heaven; he was capable of not saying a word for weeks together and then suddenly throwing himself on his father’s neck in the highest spirits. Good times with his friends were more to his taste than work. He refused no in- 11 l\ 102 LIFE OF CHRIST vitations to drink, stared at women and dressed better than other people. But he was warmhearted; he gave money to the needy, was charitable without boasting of it, never sent away any one disconsolate. He was seldom seen at the syna¬ gogue, and for this and for other reasons the middle-class people of the neighborhood, timid, colorless people, religious and self-seeking, did not think well of him and advised their sons to have nothing to do with him. So much the more be¬ cause the young man wanted to spend more than his father’s resources allowed him — a good man, they said, but weak and blinded — and because he talked recklessly and said things which were not fitting for the son of a good family brought up as he ought to be. The little life of that little country hole was repugnant to him; he said it was better to look for ad¬ venture in rich countries, populous, far away, beyond the mountains and the sea, where the big, luxurious cities are, with marble buildings and the best wines and shops full of silk and silver, and women dressed in fine clothes like queens fresh from aromatic baths who lightly give themselves for a piece of gold. There in the country you had to obey orders and work hard, and there was no outlet for gypsy-like and nomadic tastes. His father, although he was rich, although he was good, measured out the drachma as if they were talents. His brother was vexed if he bought a new tunic or came home a little tipsy; in the family all they knew was the field, the furrow, the pas¬ ture, the stock; a life that was not a life but one long effort. And one day (he had thought of it many times before, but had never had the courage to say it) he hardened his heart and his face and said to his father, “Father, give me the por¬ tion of goods that falleth to me, and I will ask nothing more of thee.” When the old man heard this, he was deeply hurt, but he made no answer, and went away into his room that his tears should not be seen, and for a while neither of them spoke any more of this matter. But the son suffered, was sullen, and lost all his ardor and animation even to the fresh color of his face. And the father, seeing his son suffer, suffered himself, '■/i LIFE OF CHRIST 163 and yet suffered more at the thought of losing him. But fi¬ nally paternal love conquered self-love. The estimations and valuations of the property were made, and the father gave to both his sons their rightful part and kept the rest for himself. The young man lost no time, he sold what he could not carry away, gathered together a goodly sum, and one evening, with¬ out saying anything to any one, mounted his fine horse and went away. The older brother was rather pleased by his de¬ parture; the younger would never have the courage to come back; so now he was the only son, first in command, and no one would take away the rest of his inheritance from him. But the father secretly wept many tears, all the tears of his old wrinkled eyelids. Every line of his old face was washed with tears, his aged cheeks were soaked with his grieving. His son was gone and he needed all the love of the remaining son to make up for the sorrow of the separation. But he had an intuition that perhaps he had not lost his son forever, his second-born, that before his death he would have the happiness to kiss him again; and this idea helped him to endure the loneliness. In the meantime the young man drew rapidly near to the rich city of revels where he meant to live. At every turning of the road he felt of the money-bags which hung at either side of his saddle. He soon arrived at the city of his desire and began his feasting. It seemed to him that those thousands of coins would last forever. He rented a fine house, bought five or six slaves, dressed like a prince, and soon had men and women friends who were guests at his table, and who drank his wine till their stomachs could hold no more. He did not economize with women and chose the most beautiful the city contained, those who knew how to dance and sing and dress with magnificence, and undress with grace. No presents i seemed too fine or too rich to please those bodies which aban- i doned themselves with such voluptuous softness, and which I gave him the wildest, most torturing pleasure. The little pro- I vincial lord from the dull country, repressed in the most sensual ‘ period of his life, now vented his voluptuousness, his love of ! luxury, in this dangerous life. 164 LIFE OF CHRIST Such a life could not go on forever: the money bags of thi prodigal son were not bottomless — no money bags are — an( there came a day when there was neither gold nor silver, an( not even copper, but only empty bags of canvas and leathe: lying limp and flabby on the brick floor of his room. Hi: friends disappeared, the women disappeared, slaves, beds anc dining-tables were sold. With the proceeds he had enough t( buy food, but only for a short time. To complete his misfor tune, a famine came on the country and the prodigal soi found himself hungering in the midst of a famine-strickei people. The women had gone off to other cities where th( situation was better; the friends of his drunken night-reveli had hard work to look out for themselves. The unfortunate man, stripped and destitute, left the city traveling with a lord who was going to the country when he had a fine estate. He begged him for work, till the lore hired him as swine-herd because he was young and strong anc hardly any one was willing to be a swine-herd. For a Je\^ nothing could be a greater affliction than this.- Even in Egypt although animals were adored there, the only people forbidder to enter the temples were swine-herds. No father would hav( given his daughter to wife to a swine-herd and no man for al the gold in the world would have married the daughter of a swine-herd. But the prodigal son had no choice and was forced to leac the herd of swine out to the pasture. He was given no paj and very little to eat, because there was only a little for anj one; but there was no famine for the hogs, because they couk eat anything. There were plenty of carob beans and the] gorged themselves on those. Their hungry attendant enviousb watched the pink and black animals rooting in the earth, chew ing beans and roots, and longed to fill his stomach with th( same stuff and wept, remembering the abundance of his owi home and his festivals in the great city. Sometimes overcomi with hunger he took one of the black bean-husks, from unde the grunting snouts of the pigs, tempering the bitterness o' his suffering with that insipid and woody food. And woe t<| him if his employer had seen him! ^ LIFE OF CHRIST 165 His dress was a dirty slave’s smock which smelt of manure, bis foot-gear a pair of worn-out sandals scarcely held together with rushes; on his head a faded hood. His fair young face, tanned by the sun of the hills, was thin and long, and had taken a sickly color between gray and brown. Who was wearing now the spotless home-spun clothes, which le had left in his brother’s chests? Where now were the fair silken tunics dyed purple which he had sold for so little? His father’s hired servants were better dressed than he, and they ifared better than he. Returned to his senses, he said to himself, ^^How many hired lervants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger!” Until now he had brushed away the dea of going home as soon as it had appeared. How could le bear to go back in this condition and give in to his brother ifter having despised his home, after having made his father [veep? To return without a garment, unshod, without a penny, without the ring — the sign of liberty — uncomely, disfigured by jhis famished slavery, stinking and contaminated by this abom- jnable trade, to show that the wise old neighbors were right, ihat his serious-minded brother was right, to bow himself at ihe knee of the old man whom he had left without a greeting, 0 return with opprobrium as a ragged fellow to the spot from vhich he had departed as a king! To come back to the soup- plate into which he had spit — into a house which contained lothing of his! No, there was something of his always in his home, his father! If he belonged to his father, his father belonged also *0 him. He was his creation, made of his flesh, issued rom his seed in a moment of love. Though hurt, his father [vould never drive away his own flesh and blood. If he would ^t take him back as son, at least he would take him back l^s a hired servant, as he would any stranger, like a man born pf another father. “I will arise and go to my father, and will ||ay unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee. And am no more worthy to be called thy son: Ipake me as one of thy hired servants.” I do not come back ‘is son but as servant, a worker, and I do not ask love from i66 LIFE OF CHRIST you, for I have no more right to that, but only a little bread from your kitchen. And the young man gave back the hogs to his master, and went towards his own land. He begged a piece of bread from the country people, and wept salt tears as he ate this bread of pity and charity in the shadow of the sycamores. His sore and blistered feet could scarcely carry him. He was barefoot now, but his faith in forgiveness led him homeward step by step. And finally one day at noon he arrived in sight of his father’s house; but he did not dare to knock, nor to call any one, nor to go in. He hung around outside to see if any one would come out. And behold, his father appeared on the threshold. His son was no longer the same, was changed, but the eyes of a father even dimmed by weeping could not fail to recognize him. He ran towards him and caught him to his breast, and kissed him and kissed him again, and could not stop from pressing his pale, old lips on that ravaged face, on those eyes whose expression was altered but still beautiful, on that hair, dusty but still waving and soft, on that flesh that was his own. The son, covered with confusion and deeply moved, did not know how to respond to these kisses, and as soon as he could free himself from his father’s arms he threw himself on the ground and repeated tremulously the speech he had prepared. “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee. And am no more worthy to be called thy son.” But if the young man had brought himself to the point of refusing the name of son, the old man never felt himself more father than at this moment; he seemed to become a father for a second time, and without even answering, with his eyes still clouded and soft, but with the ringing voice of his best days, he called to the servants: “Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet.” The son of the master should not return home wretchedly dressed like a beggar. The finest garment should be given LIFE OF CHRIST 167 him, new shoes, a ring on his finger, and the servants must wait on him because he, too, is a master. ‘‘And bring hither the fatted calf; and kill it, and let us eat and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.” The fatted calf was kept in reserve for great feast days: but what festival can be greater for me than this one? I had wept for my son as dead and here he is alive with me. I had lost him in the world and the world has delivered him back to me. He was far away and now is with me, he was a beggar at the doors of strange houses, and now is master in his own house; he was famished and now he shall be served with a ban¬ quet at his own table. And the servants obeyed him and the calf was killed, skinned, cut up and put to cook. The oldest wine was taken from the wine-cellar, and the finest room was prepared for the dinner in celebration of the return. Servants went to call his lather’s friends and others went to summon musicians, that here should be music. And when everything was ready, when he son had been bathed, and his father had kissed him many times more — almost as if to assure himself with his lips that ,iis true son was there with him and it was not the vision of a dream — they commenced the banquet, the wines were mixed and the musicians accompanied the songs of joy. The older son was in the field, working, and in the evening >vhen he came back and was near to the house he heard shouts and stampings and clapping of hands, and the footsteps of dancers. And he could not understand. “Whatever can have Happened ? Perhaps my father has gone crazy or perhaps a 'ivedding procession has arrived unexpectedly at our house.” ^ Disliking noise and new faces, he would not enter and see :or himself what it was. But he called to a boy coming out ')f the house and asked him what all that clatter was. ; “Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted '^.alf, because he hath received him safe and sound.” j These words were like a thrust at his heart. He turned pale, lot with pleasure, but with rage and jealousy. The old envy i68 LIFE OF CHRIST boiled up inside. It seemed to him that he had all the right on his side, and he would not go into the house, but stayed out¬ side, angry. Then his father went out and entreated him: ‘^Come, foi your brother has come back and has asked after you, and will be glad to see you, and we v/ill feast together.” But the serious-minded young man could not contain him¬ self, and for the first time in his life ventured to reprove his father to his face. ^To, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment; yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends: But as soor as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.” With these few words he discloses all the ignominy of his soul hidden until then under the Pharisaical cloak of good be¬ havior. He reproaches his father with his own obedience, he reproaches him with his avarice. “You have never given me even a kid” — and he reproaches him, he, a -loveless son, for being a too-loving father. “This thy son.” He does not say “brother.” His father may recognize him as son, but he will not recognize him as brother. “He hath devoured thy living with harlots. Money that was not his, with women that were not his; while I stayed with thee sweating on thy fields with no recompense.” But his father pardoned this son, as he did the other son. “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad; for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.” The father is sure that these words will be enough to silence the other. “He was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found. What other reasons can be needed, and what othei reasons can be better than these — grant that he has done what he has done, that he has spent my money on women; he has. dissipated as much as he could; he left me without a greeting ;j he left me to weep. He could have done worse than that anc LIFE OF CHRIST 169 :ill would have been my son. He could have stolen on the .reets, could have murdered the guiltless, he could have of- mded me even more, but I never could forget that he is my )n, my own blood. He was gone and has returned, was dis- opeared and has reappeared, was lost and is found, was dead id is alive again. This is enough for me and to celebrate this liracle a fatted calf seems little to me. Thou hast never left le, I always enjoyed thee, all my kids are thine if thou asketh )r them; thou hast eaten every day at my table; but he was one for so many days and weeks and months! I saw him aly in my dreams; he has not eaten a single piece of bread rith me in all that time. Have I not the right to triumph at ast this day?’’ Jesus stopped here. He did not go on with His story. There as no need of that, the meaning of the parable is clear with o additions. But no story — after that of Joseph — that ever ime from human lips is more beautiful than this one or ever mched more deeply the hearts of men. Interpreters are free ) comment and explain, that the prodigal son is the new man urified by the experience of grief, and the older son, the harisee who observes the old law but does not know love. Or se that the older son is the Jewish people who do not under¬ and the love of the Father welcoming the pagan, although he ad wallowed in the foul loves of paganism and had lived in le company of swine. Jesus was no maker of riddles. He Himself says expressly 'lat the meaning of this and similar parables is: ‘‘More joy aall be in Heaven over one sinner who repents than over all le righteous” who vaunt themselves in their false righteous- ess; than for all the pure who are proud of their external urity; than for all the zealots who hide the aridity of their earts by their apparent respect for the law. The truly righteous will be received in the Kingdom, but no ne ever doubted them, they have made no one tremble and offer and there is no need to rejoice; but for him who has een near perdition, who has gone through deep sufferings to lake himself a new soul, to overcome his bestiality, who merits LIFE OF CHRIST 170 his place in the Kingdom the more because he has had tc deny all his past to obtain it, for him songs of triumph shal, arise. | “What man of you having an hundred sheep, if he lose on« of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness i and go after that which is lost, until he find it? And when hi : hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. An( 1 when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends an( neighbors, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I havij found my sheep which was lost.” Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she losi : one piece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, amj seek diligently till she find it? And when she hath found i she calleth her friends and her neighbors together, saying, “Re i joice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost.” i And what is a sheep compared to a son returned to life, to i *: man saved? And of what value is a piece of silver comparaci to one astray, who finds holiness again? ^ i i; THE PARABLES OF SIN But forgiveness creates an obligation for which there are m exceptions allowed. Love is a fire v/hich goes out if it does no kindle others. Thou hast burned with joy; kindle him whey comes near you if thou wilt not become like stone, smoky bu cold. He who has received must give; it is better to giv much, but it is essential to give a part at least. A king one day wanted a reckoning with his servants am one by one he called them before him. Among the first wa one who owed him ten thousand talents, but as he had no anything to pay this, the king commanded that he should b sold and his wife and his children and all that he had, in pay ment of a part of the debt. The servant in despair threw him^ self at the feet of the king. He seemed a mere bundle of gar ments crying out sobs and promises. “Have patience wit me, wait a little longer and I will pay you all, but do not hav my wife and my children separated from me, sent away lik cattle, no one knows where.” LIFE OF CHRIST 171 The king was moved with compassion — he also had little children — and he sent him away free and forgave him that great debt. The servant went out and seemed another man; but his heart, even after so much mercy shown to him, was the same as before. And he met one of his fellow-servants • who owed him a hundred pence, a small thing compared with ten thousand talents, and he sprang on him and took him by the throat. ^Tay me what thou owest and at once, or I will have thee bound by the guards.” The unlucky man assaulted in this way did what his persecutor had done a little while before in the presence of the king. He fell down at his feet and besought him and wept and swore that he would pay him in a few days and kissed the hem of his garment, and recalled to him their old comradeship and begged him to wait in the name of the children who were waiting for him in his home. But the oaf, who was a servant and not a king, had no com¬ passion. He took his debtor by the arm and had him cast into prison. The news spread abroad among the other servants of the palace. They v/ere full of compassion, and it came quickly to the ears of the king, who called that pitiless man and delivered him to the tormentors: forgave you that great debt, shouldst thou not have had compassion on thy brother, for his debt was so much smaller? I had pity on thee, ought- test thou not to have had pity on him?” ! Sinners when they recognize the evil which is in their hearts and abjure it with true humility are nearer to the Kingdom than pious men who daub themselves with the praise of their own piety. ^ Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Phari¬ see, the other a Publican. The Pharisee, with his phylacteries banging upon his forehead and on his left arm, with the long, glittering fringes on his cloak, erect like a man who feels him- jelf in his own house, prayed thus: “God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or iven as this Publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.” But the Publican did not have the courage even to lift bis eyes and seemed ashamed to appear before his Lord. He 172 LIFE OF CHRIST sighed and smote on his breast and said only these words: ‘^God be merciful to me a sinner.’’ ‘T tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.” A lawyer asked Jesus who is one’s neighbor, and Jesus told this story: “A man, a Jew, went down from Jerusalem to Jericho through the mountain passes. Thieves fell upon him, and after they had wounded him and taken away his clothes, they left him upon the road half dead. A priest passed that way, one of those who go to all the feasts and meetings, and boast that they know the will of God from beginning to end. He saw the unfortunate man stretched out but he did not stop, and to avoid touching something unclean he passed by on the other side of the road. A little after came a Levite. He also was among the most accredited of the zealots, knew every de¬ tail of all the holy ceremonies, and seemed more than a sac¬ ristan, seemed one of the masters of the Temple. He looked at the bloody body and went on his way. And finally came a Samaritan. To the Jews the Samaritans were faithless, trait¬ ors, only slightly less detestable than the Gentiles, because they would not sacrifice at Jerusalem and accept the reform of Nehemiah. The Samaritan, however, did not wait to see if the unfortunate man thrown among the stones of the street werej circumcized or uncircumcized, were a Jew or a Samaritan. He came up close to him, and seeing him in such an evil pass, he was quickly moved to pity, took down his flasks from his sad-' die and poured upon his wounds a little oil, a little wine, bound them up as well as he could with a handkerchief, put the stranger across his ass and brought him to an inn, had him put,, to bed, tried to restore him, giving him something hot to drink,' and did not leave him until he saw him come to himself and able to speak and eat. The next day he called the host apart and gave him two pence: ‘Take care of him, do the best thou canst and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come agaiUj I will repay thee.’ “The neighbor, then, is he who suffers, he who needs help., whoever he is, of whatever nation or religion he may be; even^ LIFE OF CHRIST 173 thine enemy, if he needs thee, even if he does not ask help, is the first of ‘thy neighbors.’ ” Charity is the most valid title for admission to the Kingdom. The wealthy glutton knew this, he who was clothed in purple [and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day. At the gate of his palace there was Lazarus, a poor man, hungry, covered with sores, who would have been glad to have the crumbs and the bones which fell from the rich man’s table. The dogs took pity on Lazarus and on nis wretchedness, and did for him all they could, which was to lick his sores. And he caressed these gentle, loving animals with his thin hands. But the rich man had no pity on Lazarus. It never once came into his head to call him to his table, and he never sent him a piece of bread or the leavings of the kitchen destined for the refuse heap, which even the scullions refused to eat. It happened that both of them, the poor man and the rich man, died, and the poor man iwas welcomed into Abraham’s bosom, and the rich man was cast into the fire to suffer. From afar off he saw Lazarus, who ► was banqueting with the patriarchs, and from the midst of the fire he cried: “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send :]Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool ry tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.” He had not given Lazarus even a tiny morsel of food when %e was alive, and now he did not ask to be let out of the fire, |nor a cup of water, nor even a draught, nor even a drop, but e was content with a little dampness which would cling on he tip of a finger, of the smallest finger of the poor man. But braham answered: “Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime eceivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; ut now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.” If thou adst given the smallest part of thy dinner to him, when thou knewest he was hungered and was crouched at thy door in vorse plight than a dog, and even the dogs had more pity than hou, if thou hadst given him a mouthful of bread only once, ii||hou wouldst not need now to ask the tip of his finger dipped fin water. The rich man delights in his property and it grieves him to lave to give away even the smallest part of it because he 174 LIFE OF CHRIST thinks that this life will never end and that the future will be like the past. But death comes to him also, and when he ex¬ pects it least. There was once a landed proprietor who had an especially profitable year in all his possessions. He had fantastic imaginings about his new riches, and he said: “I will pull down my barns and build greater, and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods, the wheat, the barley and the other grains, and I will make other barns for the hay and the straw and other stables for the oxen that I will buy, and still another stable where I can put all my sheep and goats, and I will say to my soul: Thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry.” And the idea did not come to him even for a moment that from this largesse of the earth he could have put aside a por¬ tion to comfort the poor of his country. But on that very nigh when he had imagined so many improvements in his property the rich man died, and the day after, he was buried nakec and alone, under the earth, and there was no one to interced( for him in Heaven. He who does not make friends among the poor, who does no' use wealth to comfort poverty, must not think of entering intc the Kingdom. Sometimes the children of this world are ir their generation wiser than the children of light, understam the management of their earthly affairs better than the chili dren of light understand their heavenly life. Like tha steward who was out of favor with his master and was obligee to leave his position. He called one by one his lord’s debtor to him, and canceled a part of the debt of every one, so tha when he was sent away he had made here and there with hii fraudulent stratagem so many friends that they did not let hir die of hunger. He had benefited himself and the others b'l cheating and robbing his master. He was a thief, but a shrew» thief. If men would use for the salvation of the spirit th- shrewdness which this man used for his bodily comfort, hov many more would be converted to faith in the Kingdom! i He who is not converted in time will be cut down like thj unfruitful fig-tree. And the conversion must be final, for fal]“ ing from grace injures a man’s soul a great deal more than re* 175 LIFE OF CHRIST pentance helps him. A man had an unclean spirit in him and succeeded in driving it away. The demon walked through dry places seeking rest; and finding none, he said: will re¬ turn into my house whence I came out.” It happens that this house, the soul of that man, is empty, swept and garnished so that it is hard to recognize it. Then the demon takes to j him seven other spirits more wicked than himself and at the fhead of the band he enters into his house so that the last state i of that man was worse than the first. ' - In the day of triumph laments and excuses will count less :i than the whispering of the wind among the rushes. Then will ' be made the last and irrevocable choice, like that of the fisher- iman who, after having pulled up from the sea his net full of ifish, sits down on the beach and puts those fit for food into his baskets and throws away the others. A long truce is given to .sinners, that they may have all the time necessary to change itheir hearts, but when that day has come he who has not ar¬ rived at the door, or is not worthy, will remain eternally putside. lij A good husbandman sowed good seed in his field, but while fnen slept, his enemy came and sowed tares also among the ijWheat. When the blade was sprung up, the servants of the ai household saw the tares and came and told their master :l lj>f it. ll “Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up?” But he iji laid, “Nay; lest while ye gather up the tares ye root up also itc |he wheat with them. Let both grow together until the har- tl l^est; and in the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, pather ye together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to j |urn them: but gather the wheat into my barn.” 51 1 Thus like a good husbandman Jesus waits for the day of the rf, prvest. One day an immense multitude was about Him to ^ I isten to Him, and seeing all these men and these women who tere hungering after righteousness and thirsting after love. He ps moved with compassion and said to His disciples: “The gl iarvest truly is plenteous but the laborers are few; Pray ye lierefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labor- rs into this harvest.” 176 LIFE OF CHRIST His voice does not carry everywhere, not even the Twelve are enough: others are necessary to proclaim the good news, that it may be carried to all those who suffer and who await it. THE TWELVE Fate knows no better way to punish the great for their great¬ ness than by sending them disciples. Every disciple, just be¬ cause he is a disciple, cannot understand all that his master says, but at very best only half, and that according to the kind of mind he has. Thus without wishing to falsify the teaching of his master, he deforms it, vulgarizes it, belittles it, corrupts it. The disciple nearly always has companions and is jealous of them; he would like to be at least first among those who are second; and accordingly he maligns and plots against his fel¬ lows; and each one believes that he is, or at least wishes others to believe that he is, the only perfect interpreter of the master. The disciple knows that he is a disciple and sometimes it shames him to be one who eats at another’s table. Then he. twists and turns the master’s thought to make it seem that he has a thought of his own, different and original. Or else, and this is the most graceless and servile manner of being a disciple, he teaches exactly the opposite of what he was taught. In every disciple, even in those who seem most loyal, there is the seed of a Judas. A disciple is a parasite, a middleman who robs the seller and tricks the buyer; a dependent who, in¬ vited to dine, nibbles at the hors d’oeuvres, licks the sauces, picks at the fruit, but does not attack the bones because he has no teeth, or only milk teeth, to crack them and suck out the meaty marrow. The disciple paraphrases sentences, ob¬ scures mysteries, complicates what is clear, multiplies diffi- " culties, comments on syllables, travesties principles, clouds evi¬ dence, magnifies non-essentials, weakens the essential, dilutes the strong wine, and retails this hodge-podge as elixir distilled and quintessent. Instead of a torch which gives light and fire, he is a smoky wick giving no light even to himself. LIFE OF CHRIST 177 And yet no one has been able to dispense with these pupils and followers, nor even to wish to. For the great man is so foreign to the multitude, so distant, so alone, that he needs to feel some one near him. He cannot teach without the illusion that some one understands his words, receives his ideas, trans¬ mits them to others far away before his death and after his death. This wanderer who has no home of his own needs a friendly hearth. To this uprooted man who cannot have a family of his own flesh and blood, the children of his spirit are dear. The prophet is a captain whose soldiers spring up only after his blood has soaked into the ground, and yet he longs to feel a little army about him during his life-time. Here is one of the most tragic elements in all greatness: disciples are re¬ pugnant and dangerous, but disciples, even false ones, cannot be dispensed with. Prophets suffer if they do not find them; they suffer, perhaps more, when they have found them. A man’s thought is bound with a thousand threads to his soul even more closely than a child to a parent’s heart. It is infinitely precious, delicate, fragile, and the newer it is, the harder it is for other men to understand. It is a tremendous responsibility, a continued torture and suffering to confide it to another, to graft it on another’s thought, to give it into the hands of the man incapable of respecting it, this gift so rare, a thought new in human life. And yet every great man longs to share with all men what he has received; and to achieve this sharing with humanity is more than he can do single-handed. Then, too, vanity insinuates itself even in noble breasts: and vanity needs caressing words, needs praise, even offensive praise, needs assent, even verbal, consecration even from the mediocre, victories even if they are only apparent. Christ has none of this smallness of the great, and yet in or¬ der to share all the burdens of mankind, He accepted with the other trials of earthly life the burden of disciples. Before be¬ ing tormented by His enemies. He gave himself over to be tor¬ mented by His friends. The priests killed him, once and once only; the disciples made Him suffer every day of their life with Him. The anguish of His passion would not have 178 LIFE OF CHRIST been completely intolerable if it had not included the deser¬ tion of the Apostles in addition to the Sadducees, the guards, the Romans, the crowd. We know who the Apostles were. A Galilean, He chose them from among the Galileans. A poor man, He chose them from among the poor; a simple man, but of a divine sim¬ plicity transcending all philosophies. He called simple men whose simplicity kept them like clods. He did not wish to choose them from among the rich, because He had come to combat the rich; nor among the scribes and doctors, because He had come to overturn their law; nor among the philoso¬ phers, because there were no philosophers living in Palestine, and had there been, they would have tried to extinguish His supernatural mysticism under the dialectic bushel. He knew that these souls were rough but had integrity, were ignorant but ardent, and that He could in the end mold them according to His desire, bring them up to His level, fash¬ ion them like clay from the river, which is only mud, and yet when modeled and baked in the kiln, becomes eternal beauty. But flame from the Holy Ghost was needed for that trans¬ formation; until the day of the Pentecost their imperfect na¬ ture had too often the upper hand. To the Twelve much should be pardoned because almost always they had faith in Him; because they tried to love Him as He wished to be loved; and, above all, because after having deserted Him in the Garden of Gethsemane, they never forgot Him and left to all eternity the memory of Has word and of His life. And yet our hearts ache if we look at them closely in the Gospels, those disciples of whom we have some knowledge. They were not always worthy of their unique and supreme felicity, those men who were so inestimably fortunate as to live with Christ, to walk, to eat with Him, to sleep in the same room, to look into His face, to touch Plis hand, to kiss Him, to hear His words from His very mouth; those twelve fortunate men, whom throughout the centuries millions of souls have se¬ cretly envied. We see them, hard of head and of heart, not able to under¬ stand the clearest parables of the Master; not always capable LIFE OF CHRIST 179 \ I ii I 'ii I - ’ !l I i; e i s': e ^ 0 of ;e'i r- Ic of understanding, even after His death, who Jesus had been and what sort of a new Kingdom was proclaimed by Him; often lacking in faith, in love, in brotherly affection; eager for pay; envying each other; impatient for the revenge which would repay them for their long wait; intolerant of those who were not one with them; vindictive towards those who would not receive them, somnolent, doubtful, materialistic, avaricious, cowardly. One of them denies Him three times; one of them delays giving Him due reverence until He is in the sepulcher; one does not believe in His mission because He comes from Naza¬ reth; one is not willing to admit His resurrection; one sells Him to His enemies, and gives Him over with His last kiss to those who come to arrest Him. Others, when Christ’s teach¬ ings were on a too-lofty level, “went back and walked no more with Him.” Many times Jesus was forced to reprove them for their slow¬ ness of mind. He told them the parable of the sower, and they did not understand its meaning. “Know ye not this parable, and how then will ye know all parables?” He warns them against the leaven of the Pharisees and the Sadducees, and they think that He is speaking of material bread. “Why reason ye because ye have no bread, perceive ye not yet, neither under¬ stand? Have ye your heart yet hardened? Having eyes see ye not, and having ears hear ye not?” Like the common people they constantly feel that Jesus should be the worldly Messiah, political, warlike, come to restore the temporal throne of David. Even when He is about to ascend into Heaven they continue to ask Him: “Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the Kingdom to Israel?” And after the resurrection, the two disciples of Emmaus say: “But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel.” They disputed among themselves to know who should have the chief place in the new Kingdom and Jesus reproved them: “What was it that ye disputed among yourselves by the way?” But they held their peace, for by the way they had disputed among themselves who should be the greatest. And He sat down and called the Twelve and saith unto them: “If any man i8o LIFE OF CHRIST desires to be firsts the same shall be last of all and the servant of all.” Jealous of their privileges they denounced to Jesus one who was casting out devils in His name: ‘Torbid him not,” answered Jesus, “for there is no man which shall do a miracle in my name that can lightly speak evil of me. For he that is not against us is on our part.” After a talk at Caper¬ naum many murmured at his words and said: “This is an hard saying; who can hear it?” and they left Him. And yet Jesus spared no warnings to those who wished to follow Him. A Scribe said to Him that he would follow Him everywhere. “And Jesus saith unto him: The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man hath not where to lay his head.” Another who was a disciple wished first to bury his father, “But Jesus said unto him. Fol¬ low me; and let the dead bury their dead.” And still an¬ other, “Lord, I will follow thee; but let me first go bid them farewell which are at home at my house. And Jesus said unto him. No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the Kingdom of God.” A rich young man came to Him who observed all the Com¬ mandments. “Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him. One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatso¬ ever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treas¬ ure in heaven: and come take up the cross, and follow me. And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions.” To be with Him, a man must needs leave his home, his dead, his family, his money, — all the ordinary loves, all the ordinary good things of life. What is given in exchange is so great that it will repay every renunciation. But few are capable of this renunciation, and some after they have believed, falter. Renunciation was easier for the Twelve, almost all poor men, yet even they did not always succeed in being as Jesus wished them. “Simon, Simon,” He said one day to Peter, “behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat.” In spite of the winnowing of Christ, some evil seeds remained among his grain. T LIFE OF CHRIST SIMON, CALLED THE ROCK l8l ! Peter before the Resurrection is like a body beside a spirit, like a material voice which accompanies the sublimation of the soul. He is the earth which believes in Heaven but remains earthy. In his rough man’s imagination the Kingdom of Heaven still resembles rather too closely the Kingdom of the Prophets’ Messiah. When Jesus pronounced the famous words: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God,” Peter thought this sweeping condemnation of wealth very harsh. “Then answered Peter and said unto him. Behold, we have forsaken all, and fol¬ lowed thee; what shall we have therefore?” He acts like a money lender inquiring what interest he can expect. And Jesus, to console him, promises him that he will sit upon a throne to judge one of the tribes of Israel, that the other eleven will judge the other eleven tribes, and adds that every one shall have a hundred times v/hat he has given up. Again Peter does not understand what Christ means when He asserts that only what comes from man himself can defile men. “Peter then answered and said unto him: Declare unto us this parable, and Jesus said: Are ye also without under¬ standing? Do ye not yet understand?” Among the disciples so slow to understand, Peter is one of the slowest. His sur¬ name “Cefa,” stone, piece of rock, was not given him only for the firmness of his faith, but for the hardness of his head. He was not an alert spirit in either the literal or the figura¬ tive meaning of the word. He easily fell asleep even at su¬ preme moments. He fell asleep on the Mount of the Trans¬ figuration. He fell asleep on the night at Gethsemane, after the last supper, where Jesus had uttered the saying which would have kept even a Scribe everlastingly from sleep. And yet his boldness was great. When Jesus that last evening an¬ nounced that He was to suffer and die, Peter burst out: “Lord, I am ready to go with thee both, into prison, and to death. Al¬ though all shall be offended, yet will not I. If I should die with thee, I will not deny Thee in any wise.” Jesus answered him: LIFE OF CHRIST 182 ‘^Verily I say unto thee that this night before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice.’’ Jesus knew him better than Peter knew himself. When he stood in the courtyard of Caiaphas, warming himself at the brazier while the priests were questioning and insulting his God, he denied three times that he was one of His fol¬ lowers. At the moment of the arrest he had made, against the teach¬ ing of Jesus, an appearance of resistance: he had cut off the ear of Malchus. He had not yet understood after years of daily comradeship with Christ that any form of material violence was repellent to Jesus. He had not understood that if Jesus had wished to save Himself, He could have hidden in the wilderness unknown to all, or escaped out of the hands of the soldiers as He had done that first time at Nazareth. So little did Jesus value this act, contrary to His teaching, that he healed the wound at once and reproved His untimely avenger. That was not the first time that Peter showed himself un¬ equal to great events. He had like all crude personalities a tendency to see the material dross in spiritual manifestations, the low in the lofty, the commonplace in the tragic. On the mountain of the transfiguration, when he was awakened and saw Jesus refulgent with white light, speaking with two others, with two spirits, with two prophets, the first thought which came to him, instead of worshiping and keeping silence, was to build a tabernacle for these great personages. ^Tord, it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.” Luke, the wise man, adds to excuse him, “not knowing what he said.” When he saw Jesus walking in all security on the lake, the idea came to him to do the same thing. “And when Peter v/as come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying. Lord, save me ” And immediately Jesus stretched forth His hand, and caught him, and said unto him, “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” Because he was familiar with the lake and with LIFE OF CHRIST 183 Jesus, the good fisherman thought he could do as his master did, and did not know that the storm could be mastered only by a soul infinitely greater, a faith infinitely more potent than his. His great love for Christ, which makes up for all his weak¬ ness, led him one day almost to rebuke Him. Jesus had told His disciples how He must suffer and be killed. ‘Then Peter took him and began to rebuke him, saying. Be it far from thee. Lord: this shall not be unto thee. But he turned and said unto Peter, Get thee behind me, Satan: thou art an offence unto me: for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men.” No one ever pronounced such a terrible judgment on Simon, called Peter. He was called to work for the Kingdom of God, and he thought as men do. His mind, still occupied with the vulgar idea of the tri¬ umphant Messiah, refused to conceive of a persecuted Messiah condemned and executed. His soul had not yet kindled to the idea of divine expiation, the idea that salvation cannot be se¬ cured without an offering of suffering and blood, and that the great should sacrifice His body to the ferocity of mean men in order that the mean, after being enlightened by that life, may ‘be saved from that death. He loved Jesus, but although his love was warm and potent, it still had something earthy in it, and he grew angry at the thought that his king should be re¬ viled, that his God should die. And yet he was the first to rec¬ ognize Jesus as the Christ; and this primacy is so great that nothing has been able to cancel it. SONS OF THUNDER The two fishermen, the brothers James and John, who had left their boat and their nets on the shore at Capernaum in or¬ der to go with Jesus, form together with Peter a sort of favorite triumvirate. They are the only ones who accompany Jesus into the house of Jairus, and on the Mount of Transfiguration, and they are the ones whom He takes with Him on the night of Gethsemane. But in spite of their long intimacy with the Master, they never acquired sufficient humility. Jesus gave 184 LIFE OF CHRIST them the surname of ^^Boanerges — Sons of Thunder/’ an ironic surname, alluding perhaps to their fiery, irascible character. When they all started together towards Jerusalem, Jesus sent some of them ahead to make ready for Him. They were cross¬ ing Samaria and were badly received in a village. ^^And they did not receive him, because his face was as though he would go to Jerusalem. And when his disciples, James and John, saw this, they said: Lord, wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven and consume them? But he turned, and rebuked them.” For them, Galileans, faithful to Jerusa¬ lem, the Samaritans were always enemies. In vain had they heard the Sermon on the Mount: “Do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and perse¬ cute you.” In vain had they received instructions for their mission among the peoples: “And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when ye depart out of that house or city, shake off the dust from your feet.” Angry at an affront to Jesus they presumed to be able to command fire from Heaven. It seemed to them a work of righteous justice to re¬ duce to ashes the village guilty of inhospitality. And yet far as they were from that loving rebirth of the soul which alone constitutes the reality of the Kingdom of Heaven, these men had the pretension to claim the first places on the day of triumph. “And James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came unto him, saying: Master, we would that thou shouldest do for us what¬ soever we should desire. And he said unto them: What would ye that I should do for you? They said unto him: Grant unto us that we may sit one on thy right hand and one on thy left hand in thy glory. But Jesus said unto them: Ye know not what ye ask. And when the ten heard it they began to be much displeased with James and John. But Jesus called them to Him and saith unto them: Whosoever will be great among you let him be your minister; and whosoever will be the chief among you, let him be your servant, for even the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto but to minister.” Christ, the overturner of the old order, took this occasion to repeat the master word to which all magnanimous souls re- LIFE OF CHRIST 185 3pond. Only the useless, the petty, the parasites, wish to be served, even by their inferiors (if any one in the absolute mean- ng of the word can be inferior to them), but any superior be- ng is always at the service of lesser souls precisely because he s superior. This miraculous paradox is the proof of the fire of genius. '!t is repugnant to the egotism of the self-centered, to the pre- ’.ensions of would-be supermen, and to the poverty of the avari¬ cious because the little that they have is not even enough for diemselves. He who cannot or will not serve shows that he has lothing to give, is a weakling^ impotent, imperfect, empty. But the genius is no true genius if he does not exuberantly )enefit his inferiors. To serve is not always the same as to i)bey. A people can be served better sometimes by a man who )uts himself at their head to force them to be saved even if [hey do not wish it. There is nothing servile in serving. James and John understood this stimulating saying of Jesus, find one of them, John, among the nearest and most lov¬ ing of the disciples. At the Last Supper he leans his head on \ j’esus’ breast; and from the height of the cross Jesus, crucified, pnfides the Virgin to him, that he should be a son to her. THE OTHERS Thomas owes his popularity to the quality which should be jfiis shame. Thomas, the twin, is the guardian of modernity, s Thomas Aquinas is the oracle of medieval life. He is the jrue patron saint of Spinoza and of all the other deniers of the esurrection, the man who is not satisfied even with the testi- Inony of his eyes, but wishes that of his hands as well. And ^et his love for Jesus makes him pardonable. When they came 0 the Master to say that Lazarus was dead, and the disciples lesitated before going into Judea among their enemies, it was I ihomas alone who said: ^Tet us also go, that we may die with lim.” The martyrdom which he did not find then came to him « ti India, after Christ’s death. Matthew is the dearest of all the Twelve. He was a tax- :atherer, a sort of under-publican, and probably had more LIFE OF CHRIST 1 86 education than his companions. He followed Jesus as readily as the fishermen. ^^And after these things he went forth, and saw a publican named Levi, sitting at the receipt of custom: and he said unto him, follow me. And he left all, rose up, and followed him. And Levi made him a great feast in his own house.” It was not a heap of torn nets which Matthew left, but a position, a stipend, secure and increasing earnings. Giving up riches is easy for a man who has almost nothing.' Among the Twelve Matthew was certainly the richest before his conversion. Of no other is it told that he could offer a great feast, and this means that he made a greater and more meritorious sacrifice by his rising at the first call from the seat where he was accumulating money. Matthew and Judas were perhaps the only ones of the Disciples who knew how to write, and to Matthew we owe the first collection of Logia or memorable sayings of Jesus, if the testimony of Papia is true. In the Gospel which is called by his name, we find the most complete text of the Sermon on the i Mount. Our debt to the poor excise-man is heavy: without him many words of Jesus, and the most beautiful, might have been lost. This handler of drachma, shekels and talents, whom his despised trade must have predisposed to avarice, haS:i laid up for us a treasure worth more than all the money coined on the earth before and after his time. Philip of Bethsaida also knew how to reckon. When the famished multitude pressed about Him, Jesus turned to him to ask what it would cost to buy bread for all those people. Philip answered Him: “Two hundred pennyworth of bread is not sufficient for them.” He was later to become a pro- claimer of his Master^s fame. He it was who announced to Nathaniel the coming of Jesus, and it was to him that the | Greeks of Jerusalem turned when they wished to speak to the j new Prophet. Nathaniel answered Philip’s announcement with sarcasm: “Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth?” But Philip succeeded in bringing him to Jesus, who as soon as He! saw him, exclaimed, “Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is | no guile I Nathaniel saith unto him. Whence knowest thou me? LIFE OF CHRIST 187 Jesus answered and said unto him, Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee. Nathaniel answered and saith unto him. Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel. Jesus answered and said unto him. Because I said unto thee, I saw thee under the fig tree, believest thou? thou shalt see greater things than these.’’ Less enthusiastic and inflammable was Nicodemus, who, as a matter of fact, never wished to be known as a disciple of Jesus. Nicodemus was old, had been to school to the Rabbis, was a friend of the Jerusalem Sanhedrin, but the stories of the mira¬ cles had shaken him, and he went by night to Jesus to tell Him 'that he believed that He was sent by God. Jesus answered him, ^‘Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus did 'not understand these words, or perhaps they startled him. He had come to see a miracle worker and had found a Sybil, and Iwith the homely good sense of the man who wishes to avoid [being taken in by a fraud he said, ^‘How can a man be born I when he is old? can he enter the second time into his moth¬ er’s womb and be born?” Jesus answers with words of pro¬ found meaning, ^‘Except a man be born of water and of the spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” ' But Nicodemus still did not understand. “How can these things be?” Jesus answered, “Art thou a master of Israel and [knowest not these things?” Nicodemus always respected the young Galilean, but his sympathy was as circumspect as his visit. Once when the leaders of the priests and the Pharisees were meditating how to capture Jesus, Nicodemus ventured a defense: “Doth our law j judge any man, before it hear him, and know what he doeth?” He took his stand on a point of law. He spoke in the name of “our” law, not at all in the name of the new man. Nicodemus is always the old man, law-respecting, the prudent friend of the letter of the law. A few words of reproof were enough to silence him. “They answered and said unto him. Art thou also of Galilee? Search and look: for out of Galilee ariseth no prophet!” He belonged by right to the Sanhedrin, but there is no record that he raised his voice in favor of the ac- i88 LIFE OF CHRIST cused when He was conducted to Caiaphas. The trial was at night and probably to avoid the contempt of his colleagues and his own remorse for the legal assassination, Nicodemus re¬ mained in his bed. When he awoke Jesus was dead, and then, forgetting his avarice, he bought a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes to embalm the body. He who brought others to life was dead, but Nicodemus, although not literally dead, would never know that second birth in which he could not believe. Nicodemus is the eternal type of the luke-warm who will be spewed out of the mouth of God on the day of wrath. He is the half-way soul who would like to say ‘Wes’’ with his spirit, but his flesh suggests to him the “No” of cowardice. He is the man of books, the nocturnal disciple who would like to be a follower of the Master, but not to appear as one; who would , not mind being born again, but who does not know how to break the withered bark of his ageing trunk; the man of in¬ hibitions and precautions. When the man of his admiration was martyred and killed and His enemies were satisfied, and there was no more danger of being compromised, then he comes with balsams to pour into those wounds which were in¬ flicted partly by his cowardice. But the church to reward his posthumous piety has chosen him to become one of her saints. And there is an old tradition that he was baptized by Peter and put to death for having be- : lieved, too late, in Him whom he did not save from death. LAMBS, SERPENTS, AND DOVES Those whom Jesus sent out to the conquest of souls were rustic countrymen, but they could be mild as sheep, wary as serpents, simple as doves—sheep without cowardice, serpents without poison, doves without lustfulness. ; To be stripped of everything was the first duty of such sol¬ diers. Seeking the poor, they should be poorer than the poor. And yet not beggars, for the laborer is worthy of his hire; the bread of life which they were to distribute to those hungering for justice deserved wheat bread in return. The laborers should set out on their wonderful work destitute of possessions, i LIFE OF CHRIST 189 [taking nothing for their journey save a staff only, no scrip, no [bread, no money in their purse. They should be shod with 1 sandals, clad in a single garment. The metals are a burden [which weighs down the soul. The sheen of gold makes men forget the sun’s splendor; the sheen of silver makes them for- iget the splendor of the stars; the sheen of copper makes them forget the splendor of fire. He who deals with metals weds [himself to the earth and is bound fast to the earth. He does not know Heaven, and Heaven does not recognize him. It is not enough to preach love of poverty to the poor, or to (talk to them about the sumptuous beauty of poverty. The poor I do not believe the words of the rich until the rich willingly be¬ come poor. The Disciples destined to preach the beauty of [poverty to both poor and rich were to set an example of happy poverty to every man in every house on every day. They were ’to carry nothing with them except the clothes on their backs and the sandals on their feet. They were to accept nothing; only the small piece of daily bread which they would find on |the tables of their hosts. The wandering priests of the goddess Siria and of other Oriental divinities carried with them, along with the sacred images, the wallet for offerings, the bag for alms, because common people do not value things which cost them nothing. The apostles of Jesus, on the contrary, were to refuse any gift or payment, ‘Treely ye have received, freely give.” And as one of the disguises of wealth is merchandise, the messengers of the Kingdom were to renounce even a change of garments, sandals and staff; were to dispense with every¬ thing except the barest essentials. They were to enter into the houses, open to all in a country where the locks and bolts of fear were not yet known, and which preserved some remembrance of nomad hospitality — they were to speak to the men and the women who lived there, Their duty was to announce that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand, to explain in what way the kingdom of earth could be- icome the Kingdom of Heaven, and to explain the one condi- I'l tion for this happy fulfilling of all the prophecies, — repentance, [conversion, transformation of the soul. As a proof that they were sent by One who had the authority to demand this change. I . LIFE OF CHRIST 190 they had power to heal the sick, to drive away with their words unclean spirits, — that is, the demons, and the vices which make men like demons. They commanded men to renew their souls and at once with all the power which had been given them they aided them to commence this renovation. They did not leave them alone with this command, so difficult to execute. After the prophetic word, ‘The Kingdom is at hand,” they began their labors; they worked to restore, to cleanse, to make over these souls which had been abandoned by their rightful shepherds. They ex¬ plained v/hat it was necessary to do to be worthy of the new Heaven on earth and they lent a hand at once to the work. In short, to complete the paradox they assassinated and brought to life. They killed the old Adam in every convert, but their words were the baptism of the second birth. Pilgrims without purses or bundles, they carried with them truth and life, — peace. “And when ye come into an house salute it,” and this was the salutation, “Peace be with you.” Those who received them gained peace, those who rejected them continued their bitter warfare. Coming away from the house or from the city which had not received them, they were to shake the dust from their feet, not because the dust of the houses and of the cities of those who were not willing to hear them was contaminated, but because shaking it from their feet is a symbolic answer to their deafness and niggardliness of soul. You have refused all, and we will not accept anything from you, not even the dust which clings to our sandals. Because you, made of dust and fated to return to dust as you are, will not give a moment of your time, nor a piece of your bread, we leave behind us the dust of your streets, down to the least grain. SPEAK YE IN LIGHT j In their faithfulness to the sublime paradox of Him who i sends them, the apostles bring peace and at the same time war! \ All men are not capable of conversion. In the same family, in| the same house, there are some who will believe and others ; LIFE OF CHRIST 191 iwho will not. And there will spring up between them division and warfare, the hard price with which absolute and stable peace can be secured. If all men should listen at the same mo¬ ment to the voice, if all could be transformed on the same day, the Kingdom of Heaven would be founded in a twinkling of an eye, with no bloody preface of battles. Furthermore those who do not wish to change themselves, because they do not understand the news, or believe themselves already perfect, will attack the converters and accuse them be¬ fore tribunals. Representatives of wealth and of the old law will be cruel to the poor who are teaching the new law to the poor. The rich are not willing to concede that their wealth is r dangerous poverty; the scribes are not willing to admit that .their learning is only deadly ignorance. . . . ‘They will scourge I you in their synagogues. . . . But when they deliver you up, take no thought of how or what ye shall speak.” Jesus is sure that the poor fishermen, though they have never studied in the schools of eloquence, will find for themselves great words in ^ their hour of accusation. One thought, when it is a great ;j thought and profoundly fixed in the heart, engenders of itself ,iall the derivato ry and accessory thoughts, and with them per- ; feet form in which to express them. The arid-hearted man who has nothing in himself, who has faith in nothing, who I i does not feel, burn, and suffer, though he may have studied I long with the sophists of Athens and the rhetoricians of Rome, i is incapable of improvising one of those powerful and illumi- tjuating answers which trouble the conscience of the hardest I j*udges. They are to speak therefore without fear and without hiding ; anything of what has been taught them. “What I tell you in I : darkness that seek ye in light, and what ye hear in the ear, preach ye upon the housetops.” With these words Jesus does not ask his Disciples to be more daring than he has been. He has spoken in the darkness, that is obscurity; He has spoken to them, to His first faithful followers, but what He has said to them along deserted roads and in solitary rooms they are to repeat as He Himself has given them the example, on open j squares of cities before crowds of people. He has whispered the truth into their ears, because the truth at first might alarm those not prepared for it, and because there were so few of the Disciples that there was no need to cry aloud. But this truth must be cried out now from the heights, in order that all may j hear it, in order that there may be no one to say on that Day | that he has not heard it. j Men can kill the body of the man who spreads the truth abroad, but they cannot kill his soul; from the death of a i single body thousands of new souls will be born into life. But not even your body will die, because there is One who protects j it. “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of ! them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But j the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not I therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.” The birds of the air who do not sow, do not die of hunger; you who | do not carry even a staff shall not die at the hands of your enemies. They have with them a secret so precious that the flesh which contains it will not be allowed to perish. Jesus is al¬ ways with them, even though from afar. What is done to « them is done to Him. A mystic identity is created for all | eternity between Him who sends them out and those disciples | who are sent. “And whosoever shall give to drink unto one j of these little ones, a cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you he shall in no wise lose his reward.” Jesus is the fountain of living water destined to quench the thirst of all the weary, and yet He will take account also of the cup of water which shall have quenched the thirst of the least among His friends. Those who carry with them the water of truth, which purifies and saves, may need some day a cup of the stagnant water buried at the bottom of village wells. Any person who will give them a little of this ordinary, ma¬ terial water will have in exchange a well-spring which intoxi¬ cates the soul more than the strongest wine. The apostles who go about with one garment, with a single pair of sandals, without belts or wallets, poor as poverty, bare as truth, simple as joy, are, in spite of their apparent poverty, LIFE OF CHRIST 193 diverse forms of a king who has come to found a kingdom greater and happier than all kingdoms, to bring to poor people wealth which is worth more than all measurable riches, to offer to the unhappy a joy more profound than any fleshly pleasures. It suits this new King, as it did the kings of the Orient, to show Himself under many forms, to appear to men in diverse garments. But the disguises which He prefers even to-day are these three: Poet, Poor Man, and Apostle. MAMMON Jesus is the poor man, infinitely and rigorously poor. Poor with an absolute poverty! The prince of poverty! The Lord of perfect destitution ! The poor man who lives with the poor, ' who has come for the poor, who speaks to the poor, who gives to the poor, who works for the poor! Poor among the poor, destitute among the destitute, beggar among the beggars! The I poor man of a great and eternal poverty! The happy and rich poor man, who accepts poverty, who desires poverty, who f weds himself to poverty, who chants of poverty! The beggar : who gives alms! The naked man who covers the naked! The : hungry man who feeds others, the miraculous and supernat- ; ural, who changes the men owning false riches into poor men, ; and poor men into those with real wealth. There are poor men who are poor because they were never capable of acquiring wealth. There are other poor men who are poor because they give away every evening what they earned ithat day; and the more they give the more they have. Their wealth, the wealth of this second class of poor men, grows ' greater in proportion as it is given away. It is a pile which be- ! comes greater as more is taken away from it. I Jesus was one of these poor men. Compared to one of them, jmen materially rich, rich as the world esteems wealth, rich with their chests of talents, mina, rupees, florins, shekels, crowns, francs, marks, and dollars, are only lamentable beg¬ gars. The money-changers of the forum, the great feasters of Jerusalem, the bankers of Florence and Frankfort, the lords of London, the multi-millionaires of New York, compared to 194 LIFE OF CHRIST these poor men are only unfortunate beggars, despoiled and| needy; unpaid servants of a fierce master; condemned every® day to assassinate their own souls. The wretchedness of such indigence is so terrible that they are reduced to pick up the stones that are found in the mud of the earth, and grope about in filth. Theirs is a poverty so repugnant that not even the poor succeed in bestowing on them the charity of a smile. Richness is a curse like work, but a harder and more shame¬ ful curse. He who is marked with the sign of wealth has com¬ mitted, perhaps unconsciously, an infamous crime, one of those mysterious and unimaginable crimes which are nameless in human language. The rich man is either under the burden of the vengeance of God, or God wishes to put him to the test to see if he can succeed in climbing up to divine poverty. For ^ the rich man has committed the greatest sin, the most abomi¬ nable and unpardonable. The rich man is the man who has fallen because of an exchange: he could have had Heaven and: he chose Earth. He could have lived in Paradise and he has . chosen Hell. He could have kept his soul and he has exchanged it for material things. He could have loved and he has pre¬ ferred to be hated. He could have had happiness and he has desired power. No one can save him. Wealth in his hands is a metal which buries him alive under its icy mass; it is the: tumor which consumes him still alive in his corruption; it is the fire which burns him and reduces him to a terrible, black j mummy, a blind paralytic, black mummy, a ghostly carrion i which everlastingly holds out its empty hand in the cemeteries ì of the centuries, begging in vain for the alms of charitable ? remembrance. For him there is only one salvation: to become a poor man, , a true and humble poor man ; to throw away the horrible desti- i tution of wealth in order to enter again into poverty. But this I resolution is the hardest that the rich man can take. The rich il man by the very fact that he is sickened by wealth cannot even il imagine that the entire renunciation of wealth would be the be- 1 ginning of redemption, and because he cannot imagine such an iy abdication, he cannot even deliberate on it, cannot weigh thei ’v|l| 1 1fl LIFE OF CHRIST 195 alternatives. He is a prisoner in the impregnable prison of himself. To liberate himself he must first be free. The rich man does not belong to himself, but belongs to in¬ animate things. He has not the time to think, to choose. Wealth is a pitiless master who allows no other masters near him. The rich man cannot think of his soul, bowed as he is under the care of his riches, under his thirst to increase his riches, under the fear of losing his riches, under the material joys which are offered to him by those pieces of matter which are called wealth. He cannot even imagine that his sick, suffo¬ cating, mutilated, worm-eaten soul needs to be cured. He has ; taken up his abode in that part of the world which, according I to contracts and laws, he has the right to call hh, and often I he has not even the time, the wish, or the power to enjoy it. ! He must serve it and take care of it, — he cannot serve or take ; care of his own soul. All his power of love is absorbed by : these material things, which order him about, which have taken ; the place of his soul, which have robbed him of all his liberty. The horrible fate of the rich man lies in this double absurdity: in order to have the power to command men he has become the slave of dead things; in order to acquire a part (and such a very small part ! ) he has lost the whole. Nothing is ours as long as it is purs alone. Outside of him¬ self man can possess, actually own, nothing. The absolute se¬ cret of owning other things is to renounce them. Everything is given to him who has refused everything. But he who wishes to grasp for himself, for himself alone, a part of the goods of this world, loses both what he has acquired and everything else. And at the same moment he is incapable of knowing himself, or possessing himself, making himself greater. He has nothing more, not even the things which in appearance belong to him, but to which in reality he belongs; and he has ! never had his own soul, the one piece of property which is 1 worth possessing. He is the most destitute and despoiled beg¬ gar of all the universe. He has nothing. How then can he I love others, give to others himself and that which belongs to i himself, exercise that loving charity which would conduct him 196 LIFE OF CHRIST so soon to the Kingdom? He is nothing and he has nothing. He who does not exist cannot change. He who does not pos¬ sess cannot give. How then can the rich man, who is no longer his own, who has no longer a soul, transform a soul, the only possession of mankind, into something nobler and more precious? “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” This question of Christ’s, sim¬ ple like all revelations, expresses the exact meaning of the pro¬ phetic threat. The rich man not only loses eternity, but, pulled down by his wealth, loses his life here below, his present soul, the happiness of his present earthly life. “Ye cannot serve God and mammon.” The Spirit and Gold are two masters who will not tolerate any division or sharing. They are jealous; they insist on having the whole man. And even if he wishes, the man cannot divide himself in two. He must be all here, or all beyond worldly things. For the faith¬ ful servant of the spirit, gold is nothing; for him who serves gold, “spirit” is a word without meaning. He who chooses the spirit throws away gold and all the things bought by gold; he who desires gold puts an end to the spirit and renounces all the benefits of the spirit: peace, holiness, love, perfect joy. The first is a poor man who can never use up his infinite wealth; the other is a rich man who can never escape out of his infinite poverty. By the mysterious law of renunciation the poor man possesses even that which is not his — the entire uni¬ verse; through the hard law of perpetual desire, the rich man does not 'even possess that little which he believes to be his. God gives immensely more than the immensity which He has promised. Mammon takes away even that very little which he promises. He who renounces everything has everything given him; he who wishes a part for himself alone, finds him¬ self at the end with nothing. When the horrible mystery of wealth is deeply probed, it is easy to see why the masters of men have considered wealth the kingdom of the Demon himself. A thing which costs less than ever3d:hing else is bought by everything else. A thing which is nothing, the actual value of which is nothing, is bought by LIFE OF CHRIST 197 giving up everything, is secured by exchanging for it the whole I of the soul, the whole of life. The most precious thing is ex¬ changed for the most worthless. And yet even this infernal absurdity has its reason for be¬ ing, in the economy of the spirit. Man is so universally and naturally drawn by that nothingness called wealth that he j could only be dissuaded from his insensate search for it by put¬ ting a price so great, so high, so out of all proportion that the ! very fact of paying it would be a valid proof of insanity and I crime. But not even the conditions of the bargain, the eternal [exchanged for the ephemeral, power for servitude, sanctity for damnation, are enough to keep men away from the absurd bar¬ gain with the powers of evil. Poor people do not rejoice that i they are poor. Their only regret is that they cannot be rich; I their souls are contaminated and in peril like those of the ' wealthy. Almost all of them are involuntarily poor men, who ji have not known how to make money and yet have lost the i spirit; they are only poverty-stricken rich people who have not 5 as yet any cash. For poverty, voluntarily accepted, joyfully desired, is the I only poverty which gives true wealth, spiritual wealth. Abso- !i lute poverty frees men for the conquest of the absolute. The I Kingdom of Heaven does not promise poor people that they j shall become rich, it promises rich people that they shall enter i into it when they become freely poor. ^ SELL EVERYTHING J i The tragic paradox implied in wealth justifies the advice I given by Jesus to those who wish to follow Him. ■ They all should give whatever they have beyond their needs 1 to those in want. But the rich man should give everything, i To the young man who comes up to ask Him what he ought . to do to be among His followers, Jesus answers: ^Tf thou wilt j be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, ; and thou shalt have treasure in heaven.” Giving away wealth is not a loss or a sacrifice. Instead of this, Jesus knows and all those know who understand mankind and wealth that it is LIFE OF CHRIST 198 a magnificently profitable transaction, an incommensurable gain. “Sell whatsoever thou hast and give to the poor and thou shalt have treasure in heaven where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt and where thieves do not break through nor steal; for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow from thee, turn not thou away, for it is more blessed to give than to receive.” Men must give and give without sparing, light-heartedly and i without calculation. He who gives in order to get something back is not perfect. He who gives in order to exchange with others, or for other material things, acquires nothing. The recompense is elsewhere, it is in us. Things are not to be given away that they may be paid for by other things, but by purity and contentment alone. “When thou makest a dinner or a supper call not thy friends nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also bid thee 1 again, and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest : a feast call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind; and I thou shalt be blest, for they cannot recompense thee, for thou 1 shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just.” Even before Jesus’ time men had been advised to renounce i wealth. Jesus was not the first to find in poverty one of I the steps to perfection. The great Vaddhamana, the Jain, or 1 triumpher, added to the commandments of Parswa, founder of ' the Freed, the doctrine of the renunciation of all possessions. | Buddha, his contemporary, exhorted his disciples to a similar i renunciation. The Cynics stripped themselves of all material i goods to be independent of work and of men, and to be able 1 to consecrate their freed souls to truth. Crates, the Theban i nobleman, disciple of Diogenes, distributed his wealth to his i fellow-citizens and turned beggar. Plato wished the warriors : in his Republic to have no possessions. Dressed in purple I and seated at tables inlaid with rare stones, the Stoics pro- : nounced eloquent eulogies on poverty. Aristophanes puts I blind Pluto on the stage distributing wealth to rascals alone, ^ almost as though wealth were a punishment. But in Jesus the love of poverty is not an ascetic rule. LIFE OF CHRIST 199 nor a proud disguise for ostentation. Timon of Athens, who was reduced to poverty after having fed a crowd of parasites with indiscriminate generosity, was not a poor man as Christ would have men poor. Timon was poor through the fault of his vainglory, to feed his own desire to be called magnanimous and liberal. He gave to everybody, even to those who were not needy. Crates, who stripped himself of all his property to imitate Diogenes, was the slave of pride: he wished to do something different from others, to acquire the name of philoso¬ pher and sage. The professional beggary of the Cynics is a picturesque form of pride. The poverty of Plato’s warriors is a measure of political prudence. The first republics con¬ quered and flourished as long as the citizens contented them¬ selves, as in old Sparta and old Rome, with strict poverty, and they fell as soon as they valued gold more than sober and modest living. But men of antiquity did not despise wealth in itself. They held it dangerous when it accumulated in the hands of the few, they considered it unjust when it was not spent with judicious liberality. But Plato, who desires for his citizens a condition half-way between need and abundance, puts riches among the good things of human life. He puts it last of all, but he does not forget it. And Aristophanes would kneel before Pluto if the blind God should acquire his sight again and give riches to worthy people. In the Gospel, poverty is not a philosophical ornament nor a mystic mode. To be poor is not enough to entitle one to citizenship in the Kingdom. Poverty of the body is a prelimi¬ nary requisite, like humility of the spirit. He who is not con¬ vinced that his estate is low never thinks of climbing high; no one can feel a zest for true treasures if he is not freed from all material property, — from that winding-sheet which blinds the eyes and binds down the wings. When he does not suffer from his poverty, when he glories in his poverty instead of tormenting himself to convert it into wealth, the poor man is certainly much nearer to moral per¬ fection than the rich man. But the rich man who has despoiled i himself in favor of the poor and has chosen to live side by side with his new brothers is still nearer perfection than the i 200 LIFE OF CHRIST man who was born and reared in poverty. That he has been ^ touched by a grace so rare and prodigious gives him the right to hope for the greatest blessedness. To renounce what you have never had may be meritorious, because imagination mag¬ nifies absent things; but it is the sign of supreme perfectibility to renounce everything that you actually did possess, posses¬ sions that were envied by every one. ^ The poor man who is sober, chaste, simple and contented because he lacks means and occasions for anything else, is in¬ clined to look for a recompense in pleasures which do not cost : money, and as it were for a revenge in a spiritual superiority j where prosperous people cannot compete with him. But often his virtues come from his impotence or from his ignorance; he does not turn from the right course — ^he cannot afford to do so — he does not pile up treasure because he possesses only the strictly necessary; he is not drunken and licentious because wine-sellers and women of the streets give no credit. His life, j often hard, servile, dark, redeems his faults. And his suffer¬ ing forces him to lift his eyes towards Heaven in search of consolation. We do so little for the poor that we have no right to judge them. As they are, abandoned by their brothers, kept far from those who could speak to their hearts, avoided by those who shrink from the proximity of their sweaty bodies,:* excluded from those worlds of intelligence and the arts whichfl might make their poverty more endurable, the poor are, in the- universal wretchedness of mankind, the least impure. If they ' were more loved, they would be better men. How can those|ii who have left them alone in their poverty have the heart to| condemn them? | Jesus loved the poor; He loved them for the compassion; which He felt for them; He loved them because He felt themi nearer to His soul, more prepared to understand Him than; other men. He loved them because they constantly gave Himi the happiness of service, of giving bread to the hungry,! strength to the weak, hope to the unhappy. Jesus loved thej poor because He saw that if they were justly treated they would be the most legitimate inhabitants of the Kingdom. He loved the poor because they rendered the renunciation of LIFE OF CHRIST 201 the rich easier by the stimulus of charity; but most of all He loved the poor men who had been rich and who for the love of the Kingdom had become poor. Their renunciation was the greatest act of faith in His promise. They had given that which considered absolutely is nothing, but in the eyes of the world is everything, for the certainty of sharing in a more per¬ fect life. They had been obliged to conquer in themselves one of the most profoundly rooted instincts of man. Jesus, born a poor man among the poor, for the poor, never left his brothers. He gave to them the fructifying abundance of His divine property. But in His heart He sought the poor man who had not always been poor, the rich man ready to strip himself for His love. He sought him, perhaps He never found him. But He felt this longed-for, unknown brother man ten¬ derly nearer to his heart than all the docile seekers who ^crowded about Him. I THE devil’s dung ! Note well, you men who are yet to be born ! Jesus was never I willing to touch a coin with His hand. Those hands of His j which molded the clay of the earth as a cure for blind eyes, I those hands which touched the contaminated flesh of lepers and of the dead, those hands which clasped the body of Judas, so much more contaminated than clay, than leprosy, than putrefaction, those white pure healing hands which nothing could sully, never suffered themselves to be touched by one of those metal disks which carry in relief the profiles of the proprietors of the world. Jesus could mention money in His parables; He could see it in the hands of others, but touch it — ino! To Him who scorned nothing, money was disgusting. It was repugnant to Him with a repugnance that was like horror. All His nature was in revolt at the thought of a contact with (those filthy symbols of wealth. I But one day even Jesus was constrained to look at a piece bf money. They asked Him if it was permitted to the true Israelite to pay the tribute, and He answered at once, “Show me the tribute money.” They showed it to Him, but He would 202 LIFE OF CHRIST not take it. It was a Roman coin stamped with the hypocritical face of Augustus. But He wished to seem not to know whose face it was. He asked, “Whose is this image and superscrip¬ tion?^’ They answered, “Caesar’s.” Then He threw into the faces of the wily interrogators the answer which silenced them, “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.” Give back that which is not yours, money does not belong to us. It is manufactured by the powerful for the needs of power. It is the property of kings and of the kingdom, of that other kingdom which is not ours. The king represents force and is the protector of wealth; but we have nothing to do with violence and reject riches. Our Kingdom has no ; potentates and has no rich men; the Kang of our Heaven does ' not coin money. Money is a means for the exchange of ^ earthly goods, but we do not seek for earthly goods. What ' little is necessary for us, a little sunshine, a little air, a little ! water, a piece of bread, a cloak, will be given freely to us by God and by God’s friends. Tire yourselves out, you other , people, all your lives to gather together a great pile of those ^ round minted tokens. We have no use for them. For us they I are definitely superfluous. Therefore we give them back; we give them back to him who has had them coined, to him who has had his portrait put on them, so that all should know that they are his. Jesus never needed to give back any money because He never possessed any. He gave the order to His disciples not i to carry bags for offerings on their journeys. He made one i single exception, and that a fearful one. The Gospel tells us that one apostle kept the common purse. This disciple was Judas, and even Judas felt himself forced to give back the payment for his betrayal before disappearing in death. Judas is the mysterious victim sacrificed to the curse of money. Money carries with it, together with the filth of the hands i which have clutched and handled it, the inexorable contagion ; of crime. Among the unclean things which men have manu¬ factured to defile the earth and defile themselves, money is , perhaps the most unclean. These counters of coined metal - LIFE OF CHRIST 203 which pass and repass every day among hands still soiled with sweat or blood, worn by the rapacious fingers of thieves, of merchants, of misers; this round and viscid sputum of the Mint, desired by all, sought for, stolen, envied, loved more than love and often more than life; these ugly pieces of stamped matter, which the assassin gives to the cut-throat, the usurer to the hungry, the enemy to the traitor, the swindler to his partner, the simonist to the barterer in religious offices, the lustful to the woman bought and sold, these foul vehicles of evil which persuade the son to kill his father, the wife to betray her husband, the brother to defraud his brother, the wicked poor man to stab the wicked rich man, the servant to cheat his master, the highwayman to despoil the traveler; this money, these material emblems of matter, are the most terrify¬ ing objects manufactured by man. Money which has been the ; death of so many bodies is every day the death of thousands of souls. More contagious than the rags of a man with the pest, , than the pus of an ulcer, than the filth of a sewer, it enters into every house, shines on the counters of the money-changers, settles down in money-chests, profanes the pillow of sleep, • hides itself in the fetid darkness of squalid back-rooms, sullies 1 the innocent hands of children, tempts virgins, pays the hang- I man for his work, goes about on the face of the earth to stir up hatred, to set cupidity on fire, to hasten corruption and death. Bread, already holy on the family board, becomes on the Table of the Church the everlasting body of Christ. Money (too is the visible sign of a transubstantiation. It is the in- \ famous Host of the Demon. He who loves money and receives j it with joy is in visible communion with the Demon. He who touches money with pleasure touches without knowing it the filth of the Demon. The pure cannot touch it, the holy man ; cannot endure it. They know with unshakable certainty its jugly essence, and they have for money the same horror that ^ the rich man has for poverty. !| 204 LIFE OF CHRIST THE KINGS OF THE NATIONS “Whose is this image?” asks Jesus when they put the Roman ,j money before his eyes. He knows that face, He knows, as I they all do, that Octavius by a sequence of extraordinary good ^ luck became the monarch of the world with the adulatory surname of Augustus. He knows that falsely youthful profile, I that head of clustering curls, the great nose that juts forward as if to hide the cruelty of the small mouth, the lips rigorously , closed. It is a head, like those of all kings, cut off from the i body, cut off below the neck; sinister image of a voluntary , and eternal decapitation. Caesar is the king of the past, the i head of the armies, the coiner of silver and gold, fallible ad- : ministrator of insufficient justice. Jesus is the King of the future, the liberator of servants, the abdicator of wealth, the i master of love. There is nothing in common between i them. Jesus has come to overthrow the' domination of ; Caesar, to undo the Roman Empire and every earthly ; empire, but not to put Himself in Caesar’s place. If men will J listen to Him there will never be any Caesar again. Jesus is not the heir who conspires against the sovereign to take his place. He has come peaceably to remove all rulers. Caesar i is the strongest and most famous of His rivals, but also the most remote, because his force lies in the slothfulness of men, in the weakness of peoples. But One has come who will awaken the sleeping, open the eyes of the blind, give back strength to the v/eak. When everything is fulfilled and the Kingdom is founded — a Kingdom which needs no soldiers nor judges nor slaves nor money, but only renewed and living souls ■ — Caesar’s empire will vanish like a pile of ashes under the vic¬ torious breath of the wind. As long as Caesar is there, we can give back to him what is his. For the new man, money is nothing. We give back I to Caesar, vowed to eternal nothingness, that silver nothingness which is none of ours. Jesus is always looking forward with passionate longing to the arrival of the second earthly Paradise and He takes no heed of governors because the new land which He announces will not need governors. A people of LIFE OF CHRIST 205 holy men who love each other would have no use for Kings, law-courts and armies. On one occasion only does He speak of kings, and then only to overturn the common established idea. “The Kings of the Gentiles,’’ He says to His disciples, “exercise lordship over them, and they that exercise authority upon them are called benefactors. But ye shall not be so, but he that is greatest among you, let him be as the younger, and he that is chief, as he that doth serve.” It is the theory of perfect equality in human relationship. The great is small, the master is servant, the King is slave. Since, according to Christ’s teachings, he who governs must become like him who serves, the opposite is true, and he who serves has the same rights and honors as he who governs. Among the righteous, there may be some more ardent than others; there may be saints who were sinners up to the last day; there may be other innocent ones who were citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven from their birth. Different planes of spiritual greatness may exist as variations of the perfection common to all; but to the end of time every category of superior and inferior, of master and subordinate, shall be abolished. Authority presupposes, even if it is badly wielded, a flock to lead, a minority to punish, bestiality to shackle; but when all men are holy, there will be ,, no more need for commands and obedience, for laws and pun- l ishments. The Kingdom of Heaven can dispense with the p commands of Force. In the Kingdom of Heaven men will not hate each other ; and will no longer desire riches; every reason and need for ' government will disappear immediately after these two great Ji changes. The name of the path which conducts to perfect liberty is not Destruction but Holiness. And it is not found in the sophistries of Godwin, or of Stirner, or Proudhon, or of Kropotkin, but only in the gospel of Jesus Christ. SWORD AND FIRE Every time that the sycophants of the powerful have desired to sanctify the ambition of the ambitious, the violence of the violent, the fierceness of the fierce, the pugnacity of the pug- 2o6 LIFE OF CHRIST nacious, the conquests of the conquerors, every time that the paid sophists or frenzied orators have tried to reconcile pagan ferocity with Christian gentleness, to use the Cross as the hilt of the sword, to justify blood spilt through hatred by the blood which flowed on Calvary to teach love; every time, in short, ] that people wish to use the doctrine of peace to legitimatize war, and make Christ surety for Genghis Khan or for Bona¬ parte or even through refinement of infamy, the outrider of Mahomet, you will see them quote, with the inexorable punctu¬ ality of all commonplaces, the celebrated gospel text, which everybody knows by heart and very few have ever understood. : “Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came i not to send peace, but a sword.” Some more learned add, “I ] am come to send fire on the earth.” Others rush forward to present the decisive verse, “The kingdom of heaven suffereth^ violence, and the violent take it by force.” What angel of eloquence, what supernatural enlightener,' can ever reveal to these hardened quoters the true meaning of the words which they repeat with such light frivolity? Theyi do not look at the words which come before and after; they,' pay no attention to the occasion on which they were spoken. I They do not imagine for a moment that they can have another ': meaning from the common one. When Jesus says that He has come to bring a sword, — on : as it is written in the parallel passage of Luke, “Discord,”'. He is speaking to His Disciples who are on the point of de- ) parting to announce the coming of the Kingdom. And imme- ! i diately after having spoken of the sword. He explains with ; familiar examples what He meant to say: “For I am come' to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter i»! against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against her mother- i in-law. And a man^s foes shall be they of his own household.lj I For from henceforth there shall be five in one house divided, i three against two, and two against three.” The sword there- i fore does not mean war; it is a figure of speech which dignifies i division. The sword is what divides, cuts in two, disunites; i and the preaching of the gospel shall divide men of the same q family. Because among men there are those deaf and those ^ LIFE OF CHRIST 207 jwho hear, those who are slow and those who are quick, those I who deny and those who believe. Until all are converted and r ‘brothers in the Word,” discord will reign on earth. But dis- |cord is not war, is not massacre. Those who have heard and [believe — the Christians — will not assault those who do not thear and do not believe. They will, it is true, take up arms ! against their refractory and stubborn brothers, but these arms I will be preaching, example, pardon, love. Those who are not 'converted perhaps will begin real warfare, the warfare of vio- j lence and blood, but they will begin it exactly because they are I not converted, precisely because they are not yet Christians. I The triumph of the Gospel is the end of all wars, of wars be¬ tween man and man, between family and family, between caste sand caste, between people and people. If the Gospel at first jis the cause of separations and discord the fault is not in the (truths taught in the Gospel but in the fact that these truths [are not yet practiced by all. When Jesus proclaims that he comes to bring fire, only a I literal-minded barbarian can think of murderous and destruc¬ tive fire, worthy auxiliary of human warfare. “What will I if jit be already kindled!” The fire desired by the Son of Man sj is the fire of purification, of enthusiasm, the ardor of sacrifice, lithe refulgent flame of love. Until all souls are burning and ;!■ consumed in that fire, the word of the Gospel will be but use¬ less sound, and the Kingdom still far away. To renew the con- 1! taminated and hateful family of men, a wonderful outburst of !; grief and of passion is needed. The complacent must suffer, the j cold must burn, the insensible must cry out, the tepid must 'I flame like torches in the night. All the filth accumulated in the ii secret life of men, all the sediments of sin which make of every :il soul an offensive sewer, all the corruption which shuts the ears I and suffocates the hearts, must be burned up in this miraculous spiritual fire, which Jesus came to kindle in our hearts. But to pass beyond this wall of flame there is need for strength of soul and a boldness not possessed by all, possessed I only by the valorous; and thus Jesus can say, “The Kingdom : of Heaven suffereth violence and the violent take it by force.” i The word violent has as a matter of fact in the text the evident 2o8 LIFE OF CHRIST meaning of “strong,” of men who know how to take doors by assault without hesitating or trembling. “Sword,” “fire,” “violence,” are words which are not to be taken in the literal sense, so pleasing to the advocates of massacres. They are figurative words which we are forced to use to reach the torpid imagination of the crowds. The sword is the symbol of the divisions between those first persuaded and those who are last in believing; fire is purifying love; violence is the strength necessary to make oneself over and to arrive on the threshold of the Kingdom. Any one who understands this passage in any other way either does not know how to read, or is deter¬ mined to misread. Jesus is the man of Peace. He has come to bring Peace. The Gospels are nothing but proclamations and instructions for Peace. The very night of His birth celestial voices sang in the sky the prophetic augury: “Peace on Earth to men of good will.” On the Mount one of the first ^promises which flowed from the heart and from the lips of Christ is that directed to the peacemakers, “Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.” When the apos¬ tles are ready to depart on their mission He commands them to wish peace to all the houses where they enter. To the dis¬ ciples, to His friends. He counsels, “Have peace one with an¬ other.” Drawing near to Jerusalem, He looks at it pityingly and exclaims, “If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace!” and the terrible night on the Mount of Olives, while the mercenaries armed with swords are binding Him, He pronounces the su¬ preme condemnation of violence, “For all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword,” He understands the evils of discord, “Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand.” And in His talk on the last things, in the grand apocal3^tic prophecy. Fie announces among the terrible signs of the end together with famine, earthquakes and tribula¬ tion, also wars. “And ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars. ... For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.” I I li LIFE OF CHRIST 209 f: For Jesus discord is an evil; war is a crime. His God is not the old Lord of Battles. The apologists for great massacres confuse the Old and the New Testament. But the New is new exactly because it transforms the Old. Only when considered as a punishment can war be thought of as divine. War is the terrible retribution of men who have recourse to war; it is the cruelest manifestation of the hatred which broods and boils in human hearts, the hatred which drives men to take up arms to destroy one another. War is at the same time a crime and its own punishment. But when hate is abolished in every heart, war will be in¬ comprehensible: our most terrible punishment will disappear together with our greatest sin. Then at last Vvdll arrive the day longed for by Isaiah when, ^^they shall beat their swords into plow-shares, and their spears into pruninghooks : nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.’’ That day announced by Isaiah is the day on which the Ser¬ mon on the Mount shall become the only law recognized on earth. ONE FLESH ONLY .! Jesus sanctions the union of man and woman even in the : flesh. As long as kings remain, we are to give back to them 1 the coins stamped with their names; as long as men are not Ì like angels the human race must perpetuate itself. The Family and the State, imperfect expedients compared ' with heavenly beatitude, are necessary during our terrestrial 3 probation; and since they are necessary they should at least 3 become less impure and less imperfect. As long as rulers J exist, at least the man who rules should feel himself the equal ! of the man who serves. As long as marriage exists, the union ■ between man and woman should be eternal and faithful. In marriage Jesus sees first of all the joining of two bodies. I On this point He ratifies the metaphor of the Old Law, “So ■ then they are no more twain, but one flesh.” Husband and wife are one body, inseparable. This man shall never have another 210 LIFE OF CHRIST woman; this woman shall never know another man until death divides them. The mating of male and female, when it is not the expression of careless wantonness, or furtive fornica¬ tion, when it is the meeting of two healthy virginities, when it is preceded by free choice, by a chaste passion, by a public and consecrated covenant, has an almost mystic character which nothing can cancel. The choice is irrevocable, the pas¬ sion is confirmed, the compact is for eternity. Within the two bodies clinging to each other with bodily desire, there are two souls which recognize each other and find each other in love. Their flesh becomes one flesh; their two souls become one soul. The two have been fused into one, and from this com¬ munion will be born a new creature formed of the essence of both, which will be the visible form of their union. Love makes them like God, creators of a new and miraculous crea¬ tion. But this Duality of the flesh and of the spirit — the most perfect among imperfect human relations — should never be disturbed or interrupted. Adultery corrupts it, divorce destroys it. Adultery treacherously corrodes the union; divorce repu¬ diates it definitely. Adultery is a secret divorce founded upon untruth and betrayal; divorce followed by another marriage is sanctioned adultery. Jesus always condemns adultery and divorce in the most solemn and absolute manner. His whole nature holds unfaith¬ fulness in horror. There will come a day, he warns people, in speaking of heavenly life, in which men and women will not marry; but up to that day marriage should have at least all the perfections possible to its imperfection. And Jesus who always goes below the surface of things does not call adulterer only the man who robs his brother of his wife, but also the man who looks at her in the street with lustful eyes. The man who has underhand relations with another man^s wife is an adulterer, but no less an adulterer is he who, having put aside his own wife, marries another. On one occasion alone. He seems to admit the possibility of divorce to the husband of an adulteress; but the crime of the repudiated f LIFE OF CHRIST 2II wife could never justify the crime which the betrayed man would commit in taking another wife. Confronted with a law so absolute and so rigorous, even the Disciples took alarm. ‘‘If the case of the man be so with his wife, it is not good to marry. But he said unto them, All men cannot receive this saying, save they to whom it is given. For there are some eunuchs, which were so born from their moth¬ er’s womb : and there are some eunuchs which were made eu¬ nuchs of men: and there be eunuchs, which have made them¬ selves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven’s sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it.” Marriage is a concession to human nature, and to the propa¬ gation of life. “All men cannot receive this saying,” are not capable of remaining chaste, virgin, and alone, but only “they to whom it is given.” Perfect celibacy is a grace, a reward of the victory of the spirit over the body. Any man who wishes to give all his love to a great under¬ taking must condemn himself to chastity. He cannot serve both humanity and the individual. The man who has a diffi¬ cult mission to carry out, demanding all his strength up to the last of his days, cannot tie himself to a woman. Marriage means abandoning oneself to another being — but the Saviour must abandon himself to all other beings. The union of two souls is not enough for him — and it would make more difficult, perhaps impossible, union with all other souls. The responsi¬ bilities which come with the choice of a mate, the birth of children, the creation of a little community in the midst of the great community of the human race, are so heavy that they would be a daily hindrance to undertakings infinitely more serious. The man who wishes to lead other men, to transform them, cannot bind himself for all his life to one being alone. He would need to be faithless to his wife or to his mission. He loves all his brothers too much to love one only of his sisters. The Hero is solitary. Solitude is his penalty and his greatness. He renounces the pleasures of marital love, but the love which is in his heart, when communicated to all men, is multiplied into a sublimation of sacrifice surpassing all I 212 LIFE OF CHRIST earthly joys. The man with no mate is alone, but is free; his soul, unhampered by common and material thoughts, can rise to the heights. He does not beget children of his own flesh, but he brings to a second birth the children of his spirit. It is not given to every one, however, to resist and abstain. ^‘He that is able to receive it, let him receive it.’’ The founda¬ tion of the Kingdom needs all men who will give all their souls to it; the lusts of the flesh, even when confined to legitimate marriage, are weakening for him v/ho should give all his atten¬ tion to the things of the spirit. Those who will know the resurrection of the great day of triumph will have no further temptations. In the Kingdom of Heaven the joining of man and woman, even sanctified as it is by the permanence of marriage, will exist no more. Its real end is the creation of new human beings, but in that day Death will be conquered and the everlasting renewing of the generations will no longer be necessary. ‘Tor when they shal rise from the dead, they neither marry, nor are given in mar¬ riage; but are as the angels which are in heaven.” With this attainment of eternal and angelic life — the twc promises and the two certainties of Christ — what has seemed endurable will become unthinkable, that which seemed pure will become vile, that which was holy will become imperfect. In that supreme and happy world all the trials of the humac race will be over. A hasty mating with a stolen woman was enough for the primitive bestial man. Man rose to the highei level of marriage, to union with one woman alone; the saint rose higher yet, to voluntary chastity. But the man who has be¬ come an angel in Heaven, who is all spirit and love, will hav( conquered the flesh even in memory. In a world where there! will be no poor, sick, unhappy or enemies, his love will be transfigured into a superhuman contemplation. The cycle of births will then be closed. The Fourth King dom will be forever established. The citizens of the Kingdon; will be eternally the same, themselves and no other through al the centuries. Woman will no longer bring forth her younji with suffering. The sentence of exile will be revoked, th(! Serpent will be conquered; the Father will joyfully welcome ' LIFE OF CHRIST 213 his wandering son. Paradise will be found again and will never more be lost. FATHERS AND SONS Jesus was speaking in a house, perhaps at Capernaum, and men and women, all hungering for life and justice, all needing comfort and consolation, had filled the house, had pressed close around Him, and were looking at Him as they would look at their Father returned to them, their Brother healing them, their Benefactor saving them. They were so hungry for His words, these men and women, that Jesus and His friends had not stopped to take a mouthful of food. He had spoken for a long time, and yet they would have liked Him to go on speaking till nightfall, without ever stopping for an instant. They had been waiting for Him for so long! Their fathers and their mothers had waited for Him in wretchedness and dumb resignation for thousands of years. They themselves had waited for Him, year after year, in dull wretchedness. Night after night they had longed for a ray of light, a promise of happiness, a loving word. And now before them was He who was the reward of their long vigil. Now they could wait no longer. These men and these women crowded about Jesus like privileged and impatient creditors who finally have before tthem the Divine Debtor, for whom they have been eternally ^waiting; and they claimed their share down to the last penny. jHe certainly should be able to get along without eating bread just this one time — for centuries and centuries their fathers had been forced to go without the Bread of Truth; for years and years they themselves had not been able to satisfy their [hunger for the Bread of Hope. Jesus therefore went on talking to the people who had filled the house. He repeated the most touching figures of His in¬ spiration, told the most persuasive stories of the Kingdom, looked at them with those luminous eyes which shone down into the soul as the morning sun penetrates the shut-in dark¬ ness of a house. Any one of us would give what remains of his life to be 214 LIFE OF CHRIST looked at by those eyes, to gaze for a moment into those eyes shining with infinite tenderness; to listen for a moment only to that thrilling voice, changing the Semitic vernacular into melodious music. Those men and women who are now dead, those poor men, those poor women, those wretched people who to-day are dust in the air of the desert, or clay under the hoofs of the camels, those men and those women whom in their lifetime no one envied, and whom we the living are forced to envy after their remote and obscure death; those men and those women heard that voice, saw those eyes. i But there came a stir and voices were heard at the door of the house: some one wished to come in. One of those present ^ told Jesus, ‘‘Behold, thy mother and thy brethren without seek ; for thee.’’ But Jesus did not stir, “Who is my mother or my brethren?” And he looked round about on them which sat , about him, and said, “Behold my mother and my brethren! For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, | and my sister, and mother.” I My family is all here and I have no other family. The 1 ties of blood do not count unless they are confirmed in the I spirit. My father is the Father who made me like unto Him 1 in the perfection of righteousness; my brothers are the poor I who weep; my sisters are the women who have left their loves I for Love. He did not mean with these words to deny the J Virgin of Sorrows, of whose womb He was the fruit; He meant I to say that from the day of His voluntary exile He belonged il no more to the little family of Nazareth, but only to His a mission as Saviour, to the great family of mankind. tl In the new organization of salvation, spiritual affiliations sur- « pass the simple relationships of the flesh. “If any come to 1 me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children; I and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot ■ be my disciple.” Individual love must disappear in universal I love. We must choose between the old affections of the old I mankind and the unique love of the New Man. I The family will disappear when men, in the celestial life,® shall be better than men. In the world as it is, the family isj,| an impediment for him who helps others to rise to higher LIFE OF CHRIST 215 things. “And call no man your father upon the earth: for one is your Father which is in heaven.” He who leaves his family shall be infinitely rewarded. “And he said unto them, Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or parents, or brethren, or wife, or children for the kingdom of God^s sake. Who shall not receive manifold more in this pres¬ ent time, and in the world to come life everlasting,” Your Heavenly Father will never forsake you, your brothers in the Kingdom will never betray you; but the fathers and the brothers of earthly life might become your assassins. “And ye shall be betrayed both by parents and brethren and kins¬ folks and friends; and some of you shall they cause to be put to death.” And yet fathers at least should be faithful, because, accord¬ ing to Jesus, fathers have more duties toward their sons than sons toward their fathers. The Old Law recognizes only the first. “Honor thy father and thy mother,” said Moses. But he does not add, “Protect and love thy children.” Children seemed to Moses to be the property of those who had begotten them. Life in those times seemed so fair and precious that children were always thought to be in debt to their parents. They were to remain servants forever, everlastingly submis¬ sive. They should live only for old age, by the orders of old age. Here also the divine genius of the Overthrower sees what is lacking in the old ideals and insists upon righting the bal¬ ance. Fathers should give without sparing and without rest; even if the children are ungrateful, even if they abandon their father, even if they are unworthy in the eyes of the platitu¬ dinous sagacity of the world. The Paternoster is a prayer of sons to a Father. It is the prayer which every child might ad¬ dress to his father. He asks for daily bread; the remission of sins, pardon for his failings, and daily protection against evil. And yet fathers, even when they give everything, are some¬ times forsaken. If their sons leave them to throw themselves into evil ways, they must be forgiven as soon as they come back, as the Prodigal Son in the parable was forgiven. If they 2i6 LIFE OF CHRIST leave their fathers to seek out a higher and more perfect life — like those who are converted to the Kingdom — they will be rewarded a thousand times in this life and the next. But from every point of view, fathers are debtors. The tremendous responsibility which they have accepted in giving life to a new human being must be met. Like the Heavenly Father, they must give to those of their children who ask and to those who keep silence, to the worthy and the unworthy, to those who sit about the family board and to those who are wanderers over the earth, to the good and to the bad, to the first and to the last. They must never become weary, not even with the children who flee from them, with those who offend against them, with those who deny them. : ‘‘Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, i will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?” Who will refuse to a son who departs asking , nothing, the supreme gift of a love which asks no requital? LITTLE CHILDREN All men are children of the Son of Man, but no one could ( call Him father in the flesh. Among the disappointing joys ; of men perhaps the only joy which does not disappoint is to hold in one’s arms or on one’s knees a child whose face is rosy it with blood which is also yours, who laughs at you with the t dawning splendor of his eyes, who stammers out your name, c who uncovers the springs of the lost tenderness of your child- ì hood; to feel against your adult flesh, hardened by winds and \\ the sun, this fresh smooth young flesh where the blood seems i still to have kept some of the sweetness of milk, flesh that cj seems made of warm, living petals. To feel that this flesh 3Ì is yours, shaped in the flesh of your mate, nourished with the milk of her breasts; to watch the birth and slow flowering f1 of the soul in this flesh; to be the sole father of this unique >| creature, of this flower opening in the light of the world; to recognize your own aspect in his childish eyes, to hear youi own voice through his fresh lips; to grow young again througl this child in order to be worthy of him; to be nearer to him; LIFE OF CHRIST 217 to make yourself younger, better, purer; to forget all the years which bring us silently nearer to death, to forget the pride of manhood, the vanity of wisdom, the first wrinkles on the face, the expiations, the ignominies of life and to become a virgin again beside this virginity, calm beside this calmness, good with a goodness never known before; to be in short the father of a child of your own, this is certainly the highest human pleasure given to a man who has a soul within his clay. Jesus, whom no one called Father, was drawn to children as to sinners. Lover of the absolute, He loved only extremes. Complete innocence and complete downfall were for Him pledges of salvation. Innocence because it does not need to be cleansed; abject degradation because it feels more keenly the need to be cleansed. The people in danger are those mid¬ way; men half depraved and half intact; men who are foul within and wish to seem upright and just; those who have lost with their childhood their native purity and do not yet recognize the filthiness of their inner depravity. Jesus loved children with tenderness and sinners with com¬ passion; the pure and those who stood in dire need of purifica¬ tion. His hand willingly caressed the floating hair of the newly weaned child and did not draw back from the perfumed tresses of the prostitute. He drew near to sinners because they often had not the strength to come to Him; but He called children to Him because children know by instinct who loves them, and run willingly to him. Mothers brought their chil¬ dren to Him to have Him touch them. The Disciples, with their habitual roughness, cried out on them — and Jesus once I more was obliged to reprove them, “Suffer little children, and I forbid them not to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom É of heaven.” “Verily I say unto you. Whosoever shall not re- ceive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.” The Disciples, bearded men, proud of their authority as mature men and as lieutenants of their future Lord, could not understand why their Master consented to waste time with children who could not yet speak plainly and could not under¬ stand the meaning of grown people’s words. But Jesus set in 2i8 LIFE OF CHRIST their midst one of these children and said: “Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little chil¬ dren, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whoso¬ ever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. . . . And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me. But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.” Here, too, the transposition of values is complete. In the | Old Law, the child was to respect the grown man, to revere ' and imitate the old man. The little child was to take the grown person as his model. Perfection was supposed to lie in years of maturity, or, better yet, in old age. The child ^ was respected only as containing the hope for future manhood. Jesus reversed these ideas; grown people were to take their example from little children, elders were to try to become like infants, fathers were to imitate their sons. In the world as it was, as it is, controlled by force, where the only valued art is j the art of acquiring riches and overcoming others, children are at the most only human larvae. In the New World announced by Christ, which will be governed by fearless purity and inno- i cent love, children are the arch-types of happy citizens. The child who seems an imperfect man is thus more perfect than ; the grown man. The man who imagines that he has come ■. into the fullness of his time and of his soul is to turn back, despoil himself of his complacent complexities and return to his first youth. From having been imitated he becomes an * imitator, from his position as first he becomes last. Jesus reaffirms His own likeness to a child, and declares with no hesitation that He is identical with the children who ' i seek Him out, “And whoso shall receive one such little child in i| I my name receiveth me.” The saint, the poor man, the poet, i present themselves under this new form which sums them all 1 up: the child, pure and candid as the saint, bare and needy ttl as the poor man, m^arveling and loving like the poet. I Jesus loves children not only as unconscious models for those M who wish to attain the perfection of the Kingdom, but as the fl LIFE OF CHRIST 2ig actual mediums of truth. Their ignorance is more illumined than the doctrines of learned men; their ingenuousness is more powerful than the intellect which shows itself in reasoning words. Only a clear and untarnished mirror can reflect the images of the revelation. thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.” Their own wisdom stands in the way of the wise, because they think they understand every¬ thing. Their own intelligence is an impediment for the in¬ telligent, because they are not capable of understanding any other light than that of the intellect. Only the simple can understand simplicity, the innocent, innocence, the loving, love. The revelation of Jesus, open only to virginal souls, is all humility, purification and love. But man, as he grows older, becomes more complicated, more corrupt, prouder, and learns the horrible pleasure of hatred. Every day he goes further from Paradise, becomes less capable of finding it. He takes pleasure in his steady downfall and glories in the useless learn¬ ing which hides from him the only needful truth. To find the new Paradise, the Kingdom of innocence and love, it is needful to become like children who have already what others must strive and struggle to regain. Jesus seeks out the company of sinners, of men and women, but He feels Himself with his true brothers only when He lays His hands on the heads of the children whom the Galilean mothers bring to Him as an offering. MARTHA AND MARY Women also loved Jesus. He who had the form and flesh of a man, who left His mother and never had a wife, was sur¬ rounded all His life and after His death by the w^armth of feminine tenderness. The chaste wanderer was loved by women as no man was ever loved, or ever can be loved again. The chaste man, who condemned adultery and fornication, had over women the inestimable prestige of innocence. All women, who are not mere females, kneel before him 220 LIFE OF CHRIST who does not bow before them. The husband witli all his legal love and authority, the satyr with all his mistresses, the eloquent adulterer, the bold ravisher, have not so much power over the spirit of women as he who loves them without touch¬ ing them, he who saves them without asking for even a kiss as reward. Woman, slave of her body, of her weakness, her desire and of the desire of the male, is drawn to him who frees her, to him who cures her, to him who loves her and asks no more from her than a cup of water, a smile, a little silent attention. Women loved Jesus. They stopped when they saw Him pass, they followed Him when they saw Him speaking to His friends, they drew near to the house where He had gone in, . they brought their children to Him, they blessed Him loudly, ■ they touched His garment to be cured of their ills, they were happy when they could serve Him. All of them might have i cried out to Him, like the woman who raised her voice in the i midst of the multitude: “Blessed is the womb that bare ye, 3 and the paps which thou hast sucked.” ^ Many followed Him to death. Salome, mother of the Sons ( of Thunder; Mary, mother of James the less; Martha and 1 Mary of Bethany. They would have liked to be His sisters. His servants. His ! slaves; to serve Him, to set bread before Him, to pour Him ■ wine, to wash His garments, to anoint His tired feet and His J flowing hair. Some of them were fortunate enough to be i allowed to follow Him, and knew the still greater good fortune i of helping Him with their money . . . “and the twelve were : with him. And certain women, which had been healed of evil ^ spirits and infirmities, Mary, called Magdalene, out of whom i went seven devils, And Joanna, the wife of Chuza, Herod’s i steward, and Susanna, and many others, which ministered 1 unto him of their substance.” Women, in whom piety is a na- ’ tive gift of the heart before it is acquired through desire for perfection, were, as they have always been, more generous ^ than men. When He appears in the house of Lazarus, two women, the i two sisters of the man brought back from death, seem dis- i ) LIFE OF CHRIST 221 I ■| I traded with joy. Martha rushes towards Him to see what He t needs, if He wishes to wash, if He wishes to eat at once, and, if bringing Him into the house, she leads Him to the couch that I He may lie down, puts over Him a blanket lest He be cold, n and runs with a pitcher to get fresh cool water. Then, on |i| her return, she sets to work to prepare for the pilgrim a fine f ' meal, much more abundant than the ordinary dinner of the ;! family. With all haste she lights a great fire, goes to get !i fresh fish, new-laid eggs, figs and olives; she borrows from one neighbor a piece of new-killed lamb, from another a costly ^ perfume, from another richer than she, a flowered dish. She i pulls out from the linen-chest the newest table-cloth, and brings up from the wine-cellar the oldest wine. And while the wood snaps and sparkles in the fire and the water in the kettle I I begins to simmer, poor Martha, bustling, flushed, hurrying, sets ' the table, runs between the kneading-trough and the fire, ' ■ glances at the waiting Master, at the street to see if her brother is coming home, and at her sister, who is doing nothing at all. i For when Jesus passed the sill of their house, Mary fell f| into a sort of motionless ecstasy from which nothing could arouse her. She sees only Jesus, hears nothing but Jesus’ voice, lij There is nothing else in the world for her at that moment, i She cannot have enough of looking at Him, of listening to I Him, of feeling Him there, living, close to her. If He glances at her, she is happy to be looked at; if He does not look at ;5 her, she fixes her eyes on Him; if He speaks. His words drop one by one into her heart, there to remain to her death; if ■ ! He is silent, she draws from His silence a more direct revela- J, tion. And she is almost troubled by the bustling and stepping 1 ? ti about of her sister. Why should Martha think that Jesus ! needs an elaborate dinner? Mary is seated at His feet and I does not move even if Martha or Lazarus call her. She is at i| the service of Jesus, but in another way. She has given Him .JÌ her soul, only her soul, but such a loving soul ! And the work ^ of her hands would be inopportune and superfluous. She is a I contemplative soul, an adorer. She will take action only to ! cover the dead body of her God with perfumes. She would move quickly enough if He should ask of her all her life-blood. Il 222 LIFE OF CHRIST But the rest, all this business of Martha, is only material ac¬ tivity which is no concern of hers. Women loved Him and He requited this love with compas¬ sion. No woman who turned to Him was sent away discon¬ solate. The sorrow of the widow of Nain made Him sorrow, so that He brought to life her dead son; the prayers of the Canaanite woman, although she was a foreigner to Him, wrought on Him to cure her daughter; the unknown woman j which had a ^‘spirit of infirmity’’ eighteen years, and was bowed together and could in no wise lift herself, was cured, although it was on the Sabbath day and the rulers of the syna¬ gogue cried, ‘^Sacrilege!” In the first part of His wanderings He cured Peter’s wife’s mother of fever and the Magdalene of , evil spirits. He brought to life the daughter of Jairus, and 1 cured that unknown woman who had suffered for twelve years | from a bloody flux. J The learned men of His time had no esteem for women " in spiritual matters. They tolerated their presence at the \ sacred festivals, but they never would have thought of teach- - ing high and secret doctrines to any woman. ‘‘The words of the Law,” says a rabbinical proverb of that time, “rather than teach them to a woman, burn them up!” Jesus on the other hand did not hesitate to speak to them of the highest i mysteries. When He went alone to the well of Sichar, and the Samaritan woman who had had five husbands came there. He did not hesitate to proclaim His message to her, although she was a woman and an enemy of His people. “But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshipers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.” His Disciples came up, and could not understand what the Master was doing. “And marvelled that he talked with the woman.” They did not yet know that the Church of Christ would make a woman the link between the sons and the Son — the woman who unites in herself the two supreme possibilities of Woman: the Virgin Mother who suffered for us from the night in Bethlehem until the night of Golgotha. LIFE OF CHRIST 223 WORDS WRITTEN ON THE SAND On another occasion at Jerusalem, Jesus found Himself be¬ fore a woman — the Adulteress. A hooting crowd pushed her forward. The woman, hiding her face with her hands and with her hair, stood before Him, without speaking. Jesus had taught that wife and husband should be perfectly one, and He detested adultery. But He detested still more the cowardice of tale-bearers, the hounding by the merciless, the impudence of sinners presuming to set themselves up as judges of sin. Jesus could not absolve the woman who had brutally disobeyed the law of God, but He did not wish to condemn her, because her accusers had no right to be seeking her death. And He stooped down and with His finger wrote upon the ground. It is the first and last time that we see Jesus lower Himself to this trivial operation. No one has ever known what He wrote at that moment, standing there before the woman trembling in her shame, like a deer set upon by a pack of snarling hounds. He chose the sand on which to write ex¬ pressly that the wind might carry away the words, which would perhaps frighten men if they could read them. But the shame¬ less persecutors insisted that the woman should be stoned. Then Jesus lifted Himself up, looked deep into their eyes and souls, one by one: ‘‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” We are all of us guilty of the faults of our brothers. From the first to the last we are all daily accomplices, although too often unpunished. The Adulteress would not have betrayed her husband if men had not tempted her, if her husband had made himself better loved; the thief would not rob if the rich man’s heart were not so hard; the assassin would not kill if he had not been harshly treated; there would be no pros¬ titutes if men knew how to mortify their wantonness. Only the innocents would have the right to judge; but on this earth there are no innocents, and even if there were, their mercy would be stronger than justice itself. Such thoughts had never occurred to those angry spies, but Christ’s words troubled them. Every one of them thought 224 LIFE OF CHRIST of his own betraj^als, his own secret and perhaps recent sins of the flesh. Every soul there was like a sewer which when the stone is raised exhales a fetid gust of nauseous vapor. The old men were the first to go. Then, little by little, all tie others, avoiding each other’s eyes, scattered and dispersed. The open place was empty. Jesus had again stooped down to write upon the ground. The woman had heard the shuffling of the depart¬ ing feet, and heard no longer any voice crying for her death, but she did not dare to raise her eyes because she knew that One alone had remained, the Innocent, — the only one who had the right to throw against her the deadly stones. Jesus for the second time lifted Himself up and saw no one. ‘‘Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee?” “No man, Lord.” “Neither do I condemn thee: go and sin no more.” And for the first time the Adulteress dared to look in the face of her liberator. She did not understand His words. What she had done was evidently a sin in His eyes because he commanded her to “sin no more”; and yet he had so acted that the others did not condemn her. And now He also did not wish to condemn her. What man was this so different from all the others, who hated sin but forgave the sinner? She would have wished to turn to Him with a question, to murmur a word of thanks, to reward Him at least with a smile, because her soul was weak and her lips beautiful. But Jesus had begun again to write on the ground of the court. His head lowered, and she saw only the silky waves of His hair shining in the sun, and His finger moving slowly over the sunlit earth. THE SINNER But no woman loved Him so much as the woman who anointed Him with nard and bathed Him with her tears in the house of Simon the Pharisee. Every one of us has seen that picture in imagination; the weeping woman with her hair falling over the feet of the Wanderer; and yet the true mean¬ ing of the episode is understood by very few, so greatly has it LIFE OF CHRIST ^25 been disfigured by both the ordinary and the literary interpre¬ tations. The decadents of the last century, careful workmen I in lascivious preciosity, who swarm to the scent of corruption I like flies to filth and crows to carrion, have sought out in the * Gospel those women who are redolent of sin. And they have ! made such women their own, adorning them with the velvet of I adjectives, the silk of verbs, the jewelry and precious stones of metaphors; the unknown repentant woman, named Mary Mag- I dalene, the unknown adulteress of Jerusalem, Salome the I dancer, the sinister Herodias. The episode of this anointing has been profoundly misrep- i- resented by such writers. It is simpler and infinitely more i profound. The praise of Jesus for the woman who brought Him nard is not praise of carnal sin, or of common love I as it is commonly understood by men. This sinning woman who silently entered the house of Simon I with her box of alabaster was no longer a sinner. She had seen Jesus, had known Him before that day. And she was ino longer a woman for hire; she had heard Jesus speak, and I was no longer the public woman, flesh on sale for masculine desires. She had heard the voice of Jesus, had listened to I His words; His voice had troubled her, His words had shaken ijher. The woman who had belonged to every one had learned that there is a love more beautiful than lust, a poverty richer I than clinking coins. When she came to the house of Simon she was not the woman she had been, the woman whom the men of the countryside had pointed out sneeringly, the woman I whom the Pharisee knew and despised. Her soul was changed, iall her life was changed. Now her flesh was chaste; her hand 5 was pure; her lips no longer knew the bitter taste of rouge, |her eyes had learned to weep. From now on, according to the Ipromise of the King, she was ready to enter into the Kingdom. I Without taking all this for granted it is impossible to ^understand the story which follows. The sinning woman Ejiwished to reward her Saviour with a token of her gratitude. I yShe took one of the most costly things left to her, a sealed box i-:]full of nard, perhaps the gift of a chance lover, thinking to i [anoint her King’s head with this costly oil. Hers was an act 226 LIFE OF CHRIST of public gratitude. The sinning woman wished publicly to thank Him who had cleansed her soul, who had brought her heart to life, who had lifted her up out of shame, who had given her a hope m.ore glorious than all joys. She went into the house with her box of alabaster clasped to her breast, timid and shrinking as a little girl on her first day of school, as a released prisoner in his first moment out¬ side the prison. She went in silently with her little box of perfume, raising her eyes for only a moment to see at a glance where Jesus was reclining. She went up to the couch, her knees trembling under her, her hands shaking, her delicate eyelids quivering, because she felt they were all looking at her, all those men’s eyes were fixed on her, staring at her beautiful swaying body, wondering what she was about to do. She broke the seal of the little alabaster flask, and poured half the oil on the head of Jesus. The large drops shone on His hair like scattered gems. With loving hands she spread the transparent ointment on the curls and did not stay her hand till every hair was softened, silky and shining. The whole room was filled with the fragrance; every eye was fixed on her with astonishment. The woman, still silent, took up the opened box and knelt by the feet of the Peace-bringer. She poured the remaining oil into her hand and gently, gently rubbed the right foot and the left with the loving care of a young mother who bathes her first child, for the first time. Then she could control herself no longer, she could restrain no longer the great burst of tenderness which filled her heart, made her throat ache and brought tears to her eyes. She would have liked to speak, to say that this was her thanks, her simple, pure, heartfelt thanks for the great help she had received, for the new light which had unsealed her eyes. But in such a moment, withn all those men there, how could she find the right words, words worthy of the wonderful grace, worthy of Him? And besides, her lips trembled so that she could not pronounce two words together ; her speech would have been only a stammering broken by sobs. Then not being able to speak with her lips, : LIFE OF CHRIST 227 she spoke with her eyes: her tears fell down one by one, swift and hot on the feet of Jesus, like so many silent thank-offerings. Weeping freed her heart of its oppression; the tears relaxed the tension. She saw and felt nothing now but an inexpressible delight which she had never knovm on her mother’s knees or in men’s arms; it ran through all her blood, made her I tremble, pierced her with its poignant joy, shook all her be¬ ing in that supreme ecstasy in which joy is a pain and sorrow I a joy, in which pain and joy become one mighty emotion. I She wept over her past life, the miserable life of her vigil. She thought of her poor flesh sullied by men. She had been ! forced to have a smile for them all, she had been forced to offer her luxurious bed and her perfumed body to them all. With all of them she had been forced to pretend a pleasure she did not feel. She had been forced to show a smiling face I to those whom she despised, to those whom she hated. She had slept beside the thief who had stolen the money to pay her. IShe had kissed the lips of the murderer and of the fugitive Ifrom justice; she had been forced to endure the acrid breath land the repellent fancies of the drunkard. Never, on a kindly summer night when the eastern sky lis all a flashing splendor, had she known the welcoming kiss of |a husband who had chosen her, virgin among virgins, that she nshould be one with him till death. She was outside the com- Ipunity and the laws. She was cut off from her people. She |was separated from them all. Women envied her and de- ||tested her; men desired her and defamed her. I THE SECOND BAPTISM |1 But at the same time the tears of the weeping woman were l ;ears of joy and exaltation. She was weeping not only because l^f her shame, now forever canceled, but because of the poigni lint sweetness of her life beginning anew. I She was weeping for her virginity restored, for her soui ■ •escued from evil, her purity miraculously recovered, her con- liemnation forever revoked. Her tears were the tears of joy 228 LIFE OF CHRIST at the second birth, of exultation for truth discovered, of j light-heartedness for her sudden conversion, for the saving of her soul, for the miraculous hope which had released her from the degradation of the material and raised her to the illumi¬ nation of the spirit. The drops of nard and her tears were so many thank-offerings for this incredible blessing. And yet it was not alone for her own sorrow and her own joy that she wept. The tears which bathed the feet of Jesus I were also shed for Him. * The unknown woman had anointed her King like a king ; of olden times. She had anointed His head as the high priests i had anointed the kings of Judea; she had anointed His feet j as the lords and guests anointed themselves on festal days. * But at the same time the weeping woman had prepared Him 1 for death and burial. | Jesus, about to enter Jerusalem, knew that those were the i last days of His life in the flesh. He said to His disciples, < ‘Tor in that she hath poured this ointment on my body, she ; did it for my burial.’’ Still living. He was embalmed by a woman’s compassion. Christ was to receive before His death a third baptism, i the baptism of infamy, the baptism of the supreme insult; , praetorian soldiers were to spit upon his face. But He had i now received the baptism of glory and the baptism of death, j He was anointed like a king about to triumph in His celestial kingdom. He was perfumed like a corpse about to be laid - in the tomb. This anointing unites the twin mysteries of His Messiahship and of the crucifixion. The poor sinning woman, mysteriously chosen for this pro-- phetic rite, had perhaps a confused presentiment of the appall¬ ing meaning of this premonitory embalming. Love’s second- sight, stronger in women than in men, the foresight of exalted ; and deep emotion, may have made her feel that this body [I perfumed and caressed by her was in a few days to be an; icy, blood-stained corpse. Other women, perhaps she herself J I were to go to the tomb to cover Him for the last time with]* aromatics, but they would not find Him. He who was nowJ feasting with His friends was at that time to be at the doorsi I LIFE OF CHRIST 229 of another Hell. Feeling this presentiment, the weeping woman let her tears fall on Jesus’ feet to the astonishment of all the others, who did not know and did not understand. Now the feet of the Saviour, the feet of the condemned one, are all bathed with tears, the salt of the tears mingling with the perfume of the nard. The poor sinning woman does not know how to dry those feet, wet by her tears. She has no white cloth with her, and her garment does not seem to her worthy to touch her Lord’s flesh. Then she thinks of her hair, her long hair which has been so much admired for its fine silkiness. She loosens the braids, slips out the pins, un- I clasps the fastenings. The blue-black mass of her tresses falls over her face, hiding her flushed face and her compassion. lAnd taking up the masses of these flowing curls in her hands, 'she slowly dries the feet which have brought her King into that house. Now her tears are ended. All her tears are shed and dried. Her part is done, but only Jesus has understood her silence. SHE LOVED MUCH Among the men who were present at this dinner there was no one except Jesus who understood the loving service of the 1 nameless woman. But all, struck with wonder, were silent. They did not understand, but they respected obscurely the solemnity of the enigmatic ceremony. All except two, who wished to interpret the woman’s action as an offense to the guest. These two were the Pharisee and Judas Iscariot. The first said nothing, but his expression spoke more clearly than words. The second, the Traitor, presuming on his familiarity Iwith the Master, ventured to speak. Simon thought to himself, ‘^This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth Him, for she is a sinner.” The old hypocrite ihad for the paid woman the scorn of those who have had imuch to do with them, or of those who have never known them at all. Like his brothers he belonged to the endless cemetery of white sepulchers, which within are full of foulness. It is 230 LIFE OF CHRIST enough for such men to avoid physical contact with what they think is impure^ even if their souls are sinks of iniquity. Their morals are systems of ablutions and washings; they would leave a wounded man to die, abandoned on the road, for fear of staining themselves with blood; tliey would let a poor man suffer hunger to avoid touching money on the Sabbath day: like all men they commit thefts, adulteries, and murders, but they wash their hands so many times a day that they imagine them as clean as those of babes. He had read the Law, and there were still ringing in his ears the execrations and anathemas of Old Israel against pros¬ titutes. “There shall be no whore of the daughters of Israel. ; . . . Thou shalt not bring the hire of a whore, or the price of • a dog, into the house of the Lord thy God for any vow: for even both these are abomination to the Lord thy God.” And Simon, the wise burgher, remembered with equal satisfaction the admonition of the author of the Proverbs: “For a whore is , a deep ditch; and a strange woman is a narrow pit. ... For by means of a whorish woman a man is brought to a piece of bread.” The old Jew would perhaps not have felt so bitterly about prostitutes, if they cost nothing! But they are capable, those shameless women, of eating up a patrimony! The old proprietor could not be reconciled to one of those dangerous i women in his house, to the fact that she had touched his | guest. He knew that the prostitute Rehab had made victory i possible for Joshua and that she was the only one to escape m from the massacre of Jericho, but he remembered that the in- I vincible Samson, terror of the Philistines, had been betrayed fl; by a worthless v/oman. The Pharisee could not understand ’ i how a man acclaimed by the people as a prophet should not : have understood what sort of woman had come to bestow on | Him this discreditable honor; but Jesus had read in the heart if of the sinning woman and in the heart of Simon, and answered with the parable of the two debtors. “There was a certain “i creditor which had two debtors: the one owed five hundred : pence and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, ; he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them vdll love him most? Simon answered and said, I sup- i LIFE OF CHRIST 231 >)ose that he, to whom he forgave most. And he said unto dm, Thou hast rightly judged.’’ I And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon: ‘‘Seest ;hou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest ne no water for my feet: but she hath washed my feet with ‘ ears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. “Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I I :ame in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. “My head with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman lath anointed my feet with ointment. “^\Tierefore I say unto thee. Her sins, which are many, are orgiven; for she loved much; but to whom little is forgiven, he same loveth little. f “And he said unto her. Thy sins are forgiven. . . . Thy r’aith hath saved thee; go in peace.” Ì The parable and the comment of Jesus show how great, j wen to-day, is the lack of understanding of this episode, livery one or nearly every one remembers only those words: ^ffler sins are forgiven, for she loved much.” An attentive i *eading of the text shows that this ordinary interpreta¬ tion is the opposite of the truth. It is thought that Jesus ? 'orgave her sins because she had loved many men, or because >he had shown her love for Him with her perfume and her dsses. The parable of the two debtors makes it clear that he meaning of Jesus’ words, badly quoted and even more ! completely misunderstood, is entirely the contrary. The woman lad sinned greatly and because of her repentance she was wholly pardoned ; and because her pardon was great she greatly ;Uved Him v/ho had saved her, who had forgiven her; the *iard and her tears and her kisses were the expression of that grateful love. If before going into the house that evening the linning woman had not already become transformed by virtue ^)f her pardon, she would not have obtained from Jesus for- fgiveness for her past life spent in evil, not by using all the ^perfumes of India and Egypt nor by all the kisses of her lips, f|tior by all the tears of her eyes. Christ’s forgiveness ! vas not the reward for those acts of homage; those acts were pier thank-offerings for her forgiveness already received; and i' 232 LIFE OF CHRIST they were great because her forgiveness was great, as her for giveness had been great because great had been her sin. Jesus would not have repelled the sinning woman even il she had still been a sinner, but if He had not been sure ol her conversion He would not perhaps have accepted those tokens of love; from now on even the most rigorous Phari saical precepts permitted Him to speak with her: ‘Thy fait! hath saved thee; go in peace.’’ Simon could think of no answer; but from the side of the disciples a rough, angry voice was raised, well known to Jesus It was the voice of Judas: “Why was this waste of the oint¬ ment made, why Vv^as not this ointment sold for three hundred pence and given to the poor?” And the other disciples, sc the Evangelists say, approved the words of Judas, and mur¬ mured against the woman. Judas was the man who held the purse; the basest of them all had chosen the basest element — money. Money was pleasing to Judas, pleasing in itself and pleasing in its possibility of power. He spoke of the poor, but he did ^ not think of the poor, to whom Jesus had distributed bread in the country-solitudes, as well as to his own companions, too poor as yet to conquer Jerusalem and to found the empire of the Messiah where Judas hoped to be one of the masters. And he was envious as well as grasping; envious as all misers are. That silent anointing v/hich was the consecration of the King and the Messiah, those honors offered by a beautiful! woman to his Leader, made him suffer; the everlasting jealousy of man against man, when a woman is concerned, was mingled with the disappointment of his cupidity. But Jesus answered the words of Judas as He answered the silence of Simon. He did not affront those who had! affronted Him, but he defended the woman at His feet. And Jesus said, “Let her alone; why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on me. For ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye may do them good: but me ye have not always. She hath done what she could: she is come aforehand to anoint my body to the bur5dng. Verily I say unto you. Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached 1 LIFE OF CHRIST 233 hroughout the whole world, this also that she hath done shall le spoken of for a memorial of her.” The inexpressible sadness of this prophecy escaped perhaps hose who sat about Him. They could not be persuaded that esus, in order to overcome, should be overcome: that in order 0 triumph eternally He must die. But Jesus felt the day (rawing near, ‘‘But me ye have not always, she is come to noint my body to the burying.” The woman listened in ter- or to this confirmation of her presentiment and another burst f tears rained down from her eyes. Then with her face hidden a her loosened hair, she went away as silently as she had come. The disciples were silent, not convinced, but abashed. To iide his chagrin Simon filled the guest’s cup with better wine, lut in the yellow light of the lamps the silent table seemed a )anquet of ghosts among whom had passed the shadow of leath. “who am I?” I i ! And yet the disciples knew. Those words of death were lot the first they had heard from Jesus’ lips. They should iave remembered that day, not long before, when on a soli- lary road near Caesarea, Jesus had asked what people said of dim. They should have remembered the answer which flashed iut like sudden flame, the impetuous outcry of belief from Peter’s heart; and the splendor which had shone on three of Ihem on the summit of the mountain ; and the exact prophecies if Christ as to the manner of His death. They had heard and they had seen, and still they hoped m, — all but one. The truth shone out in them at moments ike lightning-flashes in the dark. Then the night fell blacker 'han ever. The new man in their hearts who recognized Jesus IS the Christ, the man born for the second time, the Chris¬ tian, disappeared to give way to the Jew, deaf and blind, who >aw nothing beyond the Jerusalem of bricks and stone. The question which Jesus had put to the Twelve on the jroad in Caesarea must have been the beginning of their com- blete conversion to the new truth. What need did Jesus have 234 LIFE OF CHRIST 1 to know what others thought of Him? Such a curiosity springs up only in doubtfpl souls, in those who do not know themselves, in the weak who cannot read in their own hearts, J in the blind who are not sure of the ground on which they j stand. For any one of us such a question is legitimate, but ; not for Jesus. No one of us knows really who he is, no one < knows with any certainty what is his real nature, his mission. \ and the name which he has a right to call his ovm, the eternal i name which fits our destiny. The name which was given tc | us in infancy, together with the salt and water of baptism, the | name set down on the municipal register, and written in the records of birth and of death, the name which the mother calls with so much gentleness in the morning, which the sweetheart murmurs with so much desire at night, the name which is cui for the last time on the rectangle of the tomb, that is not oui real name. Every one of us has a secret- name which ex¬ presses our invisible and authentic essence, and which we our¬ selves will never know until the day of the New Birth, unti the full light of the resurrection. Few of us dare to ask ourselves, ‘^Who am I?” and then are still fewer who can answer. The question “Who art thou?’ is the most tremendous, the most weighty which man can put to man. Other human beings are for each of us a sealed mys¬ tery even in the moments of supreme passion, when two souls desperately essay to become one. We are all of us a myster} even to ourselves. Unknown to others, we live among others unknown to us. Much of our wretchedness comes from this universal ignorance. Here is a man who acts like a king and believes himself a king and in the absolute he is really only a poor servant, predestined from the beginning of time to de¬ pendent mediocrity. Here is another dressed and acting like a judge; look at him well; he is born a dry-goods dealer, his real place is in the country fair. That man there who writes poetry has not understood his inner voice; he should be 2 goldsmith, because gold which can be turned into coin suits his taste, and he is attracted by filigree, mosaics, chasing imitation jewels. This other man who is at the head of ar army ought to be teaching school. What an expert and elo-. LIFE OF CHRIST 235 ^ quent professor he might have become ! And that fellow there, shouting in the public places, heading a revolution, calling on the people to revolt, is a gardener who has mistaken his call¬ ing; the red of tomatoes, long lines of onions, garlic, and cabbages would be the fit reward of his true mission. This other man here, on the contrary, who, cursing his fate, prunes I his grape-vines and spreads the manure on the cultivated I earth, should have studied in law-books the art of quibbling: ( no one can invent sophisms and verbal tricks as he can, and even now, how much eloquence he pours out in humble duels about money matters, this poor ‘deading lawyer” exiled to barns and furrows. I These errors concern us because we do not know, because we have not spiritual eyes strong enough to read in the heart I which beats inside our own breasts, and the hearts which beat I under the flesh of our neighbors, so irrevocably remote from us. Everything is in confusion because of those Names which we do not know, illegible for us, known to genius alone. THOU ART THE CHRIST I But what did Jesus care what was said of Him by the men of the lake and of the cities, Jesus who could read in their souls the thoughts hidden even to themselves? Long before 'I that day Jesus alone knew with ineffable certainty what His I real name was, and what was his superhuman nature. As a \ matter of fact He did not ask that He might know, but, now I that the end was near, that His faithful followers might know, I His real name, at last — even they. I “Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and I others, Jeremias or, one of the Prophets.” ; What were these things to Him, these rudimentary guesses ! of the poor and the ignorant? Fie wished the definite answer ; to come from His Disciples, destined as they were to follow His work and to bear witness to Him among the peoples and h the centuries. Even at the last He did not wish to impose by ft force a belief on those who had seen His life close at hand and ft had heard Him speak. The recognition of His superb human 236 LIFE OF CHRIST I f Ì mission, that name which not one of them up to that time had pronounced (as if they were afraid of it, as if it were too dangerous a secret to speak aloud), that recognition on the part of the Twelve should be free and spontaneous, should ! burst out, an impetuous confession of love, from one of those : souls, should be pronounced by one of those mouths. ‘Tut whom say ye that I am?’^ And then there came to < Simon Peter the great light that was almost too great for ^ him, and made him First to all eternity. He could not keep i back the words, they came to his lips almost involuntarily in j a cry of which he himself the moment before would have be¬ lieved himself incapable: “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the ^ living God. Thou hast the word of eternal life, and we be- ; lieve and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the : living God.’’ At last from Peter the Rock there sprang forth the well- spring which from that day to this has quenched the thirst i of sixty generations of men. It was his right and his reward. Peter had been the first to follow Christ in the divine wan- i derings: it was for him to be the first to recognize in the 'i, wanderer the Proclaimer of the Kingdom, the everlasting and > lawful sovereign of that Kingdom, the Messiah whom all men i had been awaiting in the desert of the centuries, who had ) finally come and was there Himself, clothed in flesh, standing before their eyes, with His feet in the dust of the road. j The pure King, the Son of Justice, the Prince of Peace, the Son of Man sent by God, the Saviour, the Anointed, whom the ^ prophets had foretold in the twilight of sorrow and affliction; ? who had been seen by apocalyptic writers descending upon the earth like lightning, in the fullness of victory and glory; for whom the poor, the wounded, the hungry, the afflicted, had U been waiting from century to century, as dry grass waits for J rain, as the flower waits for the sun, as the mouth awaits the kiss, and the heart, consolation; the Son of God and of Man, the Man who hid God in human flesh, the God who cloaked | His divinity in Adam’s clay, it is He, the dear Brother of i every day, who looks quietly into the astounded eyes of those | chosen ones! ] J/ LIFE OF CHRIST 237 The period of waiting is done; ended is the vigil! Why had they not recognized Him until that day? Whence did it come in those simple souls, the first notion of the true name of Him who so many times had taken them by the hand, and had spoken for their ears to hear? They could never think that one of them — a common man like them, a workman and I poor as they were — could be the Saviour Messiah announced I' and awaited by saints and by the centuries. With the intellect one they could never have discovered Him, nor with the ere bodily senses, nor with the teachings of the scriptures; ily with the inspiration, the intuition, the sudden flaming il- mination of the heart, as it happened that day in the soul of 3ter. ^^Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jona; for flesh and blood ith not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in eaven.’’ Fleshly eyes would not have been able to see what ley saw without a revelation from on high. But weighty consequences flow from the choice of Peter for is proclamation. It is a reward which calls for other recom- mse, “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my lurch; and the gates of Hell shall not prevail against it. And will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and hatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven : id whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in eaven.” Weighty words from which have emerged, through the pa- snt germination of long centuries, helped by the fire of faith id by the blood of witnesses, one of the greatest Kingdoms hich men have ever established upon the earth; the only one ■ the old kingdoms which still lives on in the same city which -w the rise and fall of the proudest and most pompous of irthly kingdoms. For these words many men suffered, many ere tortured, many were killed. To deny or uphold, to in- rpret or cancel these words, thousands of men have been killed L city squares and in battles; kingdoms have been divided, )cieties have been shaken and rent, nations have waged war, nperors and beggars have given their all. But their meaning i Christ’s mouth is plain and simple. He means to say, Thou, Peter, shalt be hard and staunch as a rock, and upon I 238 LIFE OF CHRIST the staunchness of thy faith in me, which thou wast the first to profess, is founded the first Christian society, the humble seed of the Kingdom. Against this Church which to-day has only Twelve citizens but which will be spread to the limits of the earth, the forces of evil cannot prevail, because you are the Spirit and the Spirit cannot be overcome and dimmed by Matter. Thou shalt close forever — and when I speak to thee I am speaking to all those who shall succeed thee united in the same certainty — the Gates of Fieli; and thou shalt open to all those who are chosen the Gates of Heaven. Thou shalt bind and thou shalt unloosen in my name. What thou shalt forbid after my death shall be forbidden to-morrow also for that new humanity v/hich I will find on my return; what thou shalt command shalt be justly commanded because thou wilt be only repeating in other words what I have told and taught thee. Thou shalt be, in thy person and in that of thy legiti¬ mate heirs, the shepherd of the interregnum, the temporary and provisional guide who shalt prepare, together with com¬ rades obedient to thee, the Kingdom of God and of Love. “In requital for this revelation and for this promise I lay on you a hard command : to keep silence ; for the present ' I you must tell no one who I am. My day is near, but has not yet come; you will be witness to events which you do J not expect, which will even be the contrary of what you ex- j pect. I know the hour in which I shall speak and in which I ; you shall speak. And when we break our silence, my cry andli your cry shall be heard in the most distant realms of Heaven I and Earth.’^ SUN AND SNOW i A man’s voice, the voice of Peter the Rock, had called Him^i !ii: the Son of Man; another voice issuing from a cloud was to Ir call Him the Son of God. jit Very high is the three-peaked mountain of Hermon, covered fr with snow even in the hot season, the highest mountain of Palestine, higher than Mount Tabor. The Psalmist says, “It isi ;; the dew of Hermon that descends upon the mountains of“ II LIFE OF CHRIST 239 Zion.” Jesus became incarnate light on this mountain, the highest mountain in the life of Christ, that life which marks its different stages by great heights — the mountain of the Temptation, the mountain of the Beatitudes, the mountain of the Transfiguration, the mountain of the Crucifixion. Three Disciples alone were with Him: he who was called Peter, and the Sons of Thunder, — the man with the rugged, mountainous character, and the stormy men — fitting company for the place and hour. He prayed alone, apart from them, higher than all of them, perhaps kneeling in the snow. All of us have seen in winter how the snow on a mountain makes any other whiteness seem dull and drab. A pale face seems strangely dark, white linen seems dingy, paper looks like dry play. The contrary of all this was seen on that day up in the gleaming, deserted height alone in the sky. Jesus prayed by Himself apart from the others. Suddenly His face shone like the sun and His raiment became as white ^s snow in the sunshine, white ‘‘as no fuller on earth can white them.” Over the whiteness of the snow a more brilliant white- jiess, a splendor more powerful than all known splendors, out- Ihone all earthly light. The Transfiguration is the Feast and the Victory of Light. Tesus still in the flesh — for so short a time! — took on the most ;ubtle, the lightest and most spiritual aspect of matter. His )ody awaiting its liberation became sunlight, the light of 3eaven, intellectual and supernatural light; His soul trans- igured in prayer shone out through the flesh, pierced with ts flaming whiteness the screen of His body and His garments, ike a flame consuming the walls which close it in, and flashing hrough them. But the light was not the same on His face and on His jaiment. The light of His face was like the sun; that of His j;arments was like the brilliance of snow. His face, mirror k the soul, took on the color of fire; His garments, mere paterial stuff, were white like ice. For the soul is sun, fire, love; but the garments, all garments, — even that heavy gar- pent which is called the human body, — are opaque, cold, lead; and can shine only by reflected light. 240 LIFE OF CHRIST But Jesus, all light, Flis face gleaming with quiet reful¬ gence, His garments shining white — gold sparkling in the midst of silver — was not alone. Two great figures, returned from death, gleaming like Him, stood by Him, and spoke with Him, Moses and Elias. The first of the Prophets, men of light and fire, came to bear witness to the new Light which shines on Hermon. All those who have spoken with God re¬ main radiant with light. The face of Moses when he came down from Mt. Sinai had become so resplendent that he cov¬ ered it with a veil, lest he dazzle the others. And Elias was caught up to Heaven in a chariot of fire drawn by fiery steeds. John, the new Elias, announced the baptism of fire, but his face was darkened by the sun and did not shine like the sun. The only splendor which came into his life was the golden platter on which his bloody head was carried, a kingly gift to Herod’s sinister concubine. But on Hermon there was One whose face shone more than Moses’ and whose ascension was to be more splendid than that of Elias, — ^He whom Moses had promised and who was to come after Elias. They had come there beside him, but they were to disappear thereafter for¬ ever. They were no longer necessary after this last revela¬ tion. From now on the world can do without their laws and their hopes. A luminous cloud hid the glorious three from the eyes of the obscure three, and from the cloud came out a voice: “This is my beloved Son: hear him.” The cloud did not hide the light, but increased it. As from the tempest-cloud, the lightning darts out to light up suddenly all the country; from this cloud already shining in itself, flamed out the fire which burned up the Old Covenant and confirmed to all eternity the New Promise. The column of smoke which guided the fleeing Hebrews in the desert towards Jordan, the black cloud which hid the ark in the day of desolation and fear, had finally become a cloud of light so brilliant that it hid even the sunlike splendor of the face which was soon to be buffeted in the dark days, close at hand. But when the cloud disappeared, Jesus was once more alone The two precursors and the two witnesses had disappeared His face had taken on its natural color. His garments had LIFE OF CHRIST 241 their everyday aspect. Christ, once more a loving brother, turned back to his swooning companions. ^‘Arise, and be not afraid. . . . Tell the vision to no man, until the son of man be risen again from the dead.” The Transfiguration forecasts the Ascension; but to die in shame always precedes rising in glory. I SHALL SUFFER MANY THINGS Jesus had known that He must soon die a shameful death. It was the reward for which he was waiting and no one could have defrauded Him of it. He who saves others is ready to lose himself; he who rescues others necessarily pays with his person (that is, with the only value which is really his and which surpasses and includes all other values); it is fitting that he who loves his enemies should be hated even by his friends; he who brings salvation to all nations must needs be killed by his own people; it suits human ideas of the fitness of things that he who offers his life should be put to death. Every benefaction is such an offense to the native ingratitude of men that it can be paid for only by the heaviest penalty. We lend ears only to voices which cry out from the tombs, and reserve our scanty capacity for reverence for those whom we have assassinated. The only truths which remain in the fleet¬ ing memory of the human race are the truths written in blood. Jesus knew what was awaiting Him at Jerusalem, and as later was said by one worthy to portray Him, His every thought was colored by the thought of death. Three times they had already tried to kill Him; the first time at Nazareth when they took Him up on the summit of the mountain where the city was built and wished to cast Him down; the second time in the Temple, the Jews, offended by His talk, laid their hands on stones to stone Him; and a third time at the feast of the Dedication in winter-time, they took up the stones of the street to silence Him. But for these three times he es¬ caped because His hour was not yet come. He kept His certainty of death in His own heart for Himself alone until His last hours. For He did not wish to sadden His 242 LIFE OF CHRIST Disciples who would have shrunk from following a condemned man, a man who in His own heart knew Himself at the point of death. But after the triple consecration as Messiah — Peter’s cry, the light of Hermon, the anointing of Bethany — He could no longer keep silence. He knew too well the ingenu¬ ous complacency of the Twelve. He knew that when the rare moments of enthusiasm and illumination were gone, their thoughts were often the common thoughts of common people, human even in their highest dreams. He knew that the Mes¬ siah for whom they were waiting was a victorious restorer of the Age of Gold and not the Man of Sorrows. They thought of Him as a king on his throne and not as a criminal on the gal¬ lows; triumphant, receiving homage and tribute, not spat upon, beaten, and insulted; come to raise the dead and not to be executed like an assassin. Lest the Disciples should lose this new certainty of Christ’s Messiahship on the day of His ignominy, Christ knew that He must warn them. They must learn from His own mouth that the Messiah would be condemned, that the Victorious One would disappear in a dreadful downfall, that the King of all kings would be insulted by C3esar’s servants, that the Son of God would be crucified by the ignorant, blind servants of God. Three times they had tried to put Him to death; three times after Peter’s recognition He announced to the Twelve His im¬ minent death. And there were to be three kinds of men who were to bring about His death : the Elders, the High Priests and the Scribes. The Elders were the Patricians, the aristo¬ crats, the lay delegates of the Hebrew middle-classes, they rep¬ resented authority and wealth,, and Christ had come to trans¬ form authority into service and to condemn the rich and their treasures. The High Priests represented the Temple, and He had come to destroy the Temple. The Scribes were the doc¬ tors of law, of theology, the interpreters of the Book, the mas¬ ters of the Scriptures, and represented the authority of word and of tradition; and He had come to transform the Word and to regenerate the tradition. These three orders of men LIFE OF CHRIST 243 never could forgive Him even after they had sent Him to Golgotha. And there were to be three accomplices to His death: Judas who betrayed Him, Caiaphas who sentenced Him, Pilate who permitted the execution of the sentence. And there were to be three sorts of men to execute the penalty: the guards who arrested Him, the Hebrews who cried ^^Crucify Him!” before the procurator’s house, the Roman soldiers v/ho nailed Him on the cross. There were to be three degrees of His afflictions, as He Him¬ self told the disciples. First He was to be spurned and out¬ raged, then spit upon and beaten, and finally killed. But they were not to fear nor to weep. As life has its reward in death, death is the promise of a second life. After three days. He w^as to rise from the tomb, never more to die. Christ was to be vic¬ torious not over earthly kingdoms, but over death. He does not bring golden treasures, nor abundance of grain, but im¬ mortality to all those who obey Him, and the cancelation of all sins committed by men. He was to buy this immortality and this liberation by imprisonment and death. The price was hard and bitter, but without those few days of His Passion and burial He could not have secured centuries and centuries of life and freedom for men. The Disciples were troubled at this revelation and unwilling to believe. But Jesus had already begun His Passion, fore¬ seeing those terrible last days of His life and describing them. From now on the heirs of His work knew all, and He could go on His way towards Jerusalem in order that His words should be fulfilled to the very last. i; MARANATHA And yet for one day at least He was to be like that King awaited by the poor every morning on the thresholds of the holy city. Easter draws near. It was the beginning of the last week which even now had not yet ended — since the new Sabbath 244 LIFE OF CHRIST 1 has not yet dawned. But this time Jesus does not come to Jerusalem as in other years^ an obscure wanderer mingled with the crowd of pilgrims, into the evil-smelling metropolis r huddled with its houses, white as sepulchers, imder the tower- ^ ing vainglory of the Temple destined to the flames. This time, which is the last time, Jesus is accompanied by His faithful friends, by His fellow-peasants, by the women who were later to weep, by the Twelve who were to hide themselves, by the r Galileans who come in memory of an ancient miracle, but with j the hope of seeing a new miracle. This time He is not alone; jl the vanguard of the Kingdom is with Him, and He does not! come unknown : the cry of the Resurrection has preceded Him. * Even in the capital ruled by the iron of the Romans, the gold ■ of the merchants, the letter of the Pharisees, there are eyes ' which look towards the Mount of Olives and hearts which beat faster. This time He does not come on foot into the city which should have been the throne of His kingdom, and which was to be His tomb. When He had come to Bethpage, He sent two disciples to look for an ass, “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. And if any man} say ought unto you, ye shall say. The Lord hath need of f them.’’ • Even up to our days it has been said that Jesus wished to ride on an ass as a sign of humble meekness, as if He wished " to signify symbolically that He approached His people as the Prince of Peace. It has been forgotten that in the robust early periods of history asses were not the submissive beasts of burden of to-day, weary bones in flogged and ill-treated skin, brought low by many centuries of slavery, used only to carry baskets and bags over the stones of steep hills. The ass of an¬ tiquity was a fiery and warlike animal; handsome and bold as j a horse, fit to be sacrificed to divinities. Homer, master of metaphors, intended no belittling of Ajax the robust, the j proud Ajax, when he likened him to an ass. The Jews more¬ over used untamed asses for other comparisons: Zophar the Naamithite said to Job, “For vain man would be wise though : LIFE OF CHRIST 245 . an be born like a wild ass’ colt.” And Daniel tells how Neb¬ uchadnezzar, as expiation of his tyrannies, was driven from he sons of men, and his heart was made like the beasts, and is dwelling was with the wild asses, Jesus asked expressly for an ass not yet broken, never be¬ fore ridden, something like a wild ass, because on that day, the animal chosen by Him was not a symbol of the humility of his •ider but was a symbol of the Jewish people, who were to be iberated and overcome by Christ; the animal, unruly and •estive, stiff-necked, whom no prophet and no monarch had nastered and who to-day was tied to a post as Israel was ied with the Roman rope; vain and foolhardy as in the Book )f Job; fitting companion for an evil king; slave to foreigners, )ut at the same time rebellious to the end of time, the Hebrew )eople had finally found its master. For one day only: it re- l^olted against Him, its legitimate master in that same week; put its revolt succeeded only for a short time. The quarrel- ;ome capitol was pulled down and the god-killing crowd dis- )ersed like the husks of the eternal Winnower over all the ■ace of the earth. The ass’s back is hard, and Christ’s friends throw their :loaks over it. Stony is the slope which leads from the Mount )f Olives and the triumphant crowds throw their mantles over the rough stones. This, too, is symbolical of self-consecra- |;ion. To take off your mantle is the beginning of stripping ^ourself, the beginning of that bareness which is the desire for onfession and the death of false shame; bareness of the body, promising naked truth for the soul. The loving charity of su- Dreme alms-giving; to give what we have on our backs, ‘Hf any nan . . . shall take away thy coat, let him have thy cloke Uso.” Then began the descent in the heat of the sun and of glory; n the midst of freshly cut branches and of songs of hope. It J^ras at the beginning of breezy April and of the spring. The l^olden hour of noon lay about the city with its green vine- »^ards, fields and orchards. The sky, immense, deep blue, niraculously calm, clear and joyful as the promise of divine jyes, stretched away into the infinite. The stars could not 246 LIFE OF CHRIST be seen, yet the light of our sun seemed augmented by the quiet ^ brilliance of those other distant suns. A warm breeze, still I scented with the freshness of heaven, gently swayed the tender : tree-tops and set the young, growing leaves a-flutter. It was 1 one of those days when blue seems bluer, green seems greener, j light more brilliant and love more loving. Those who accompanied Christ in that descent felt them- i selves swept away by the rapture of the world and of the mo- I ment. Never before that day had they felt themselves so bursting with hope and adoration. The cry of Peter became i the cry of the fervent little army winding its way down the ' slope towards the queen-city. “Hosanna to the Son of David!’’ said the voices of the young men and of the women, in the midst 1 of this impetuous exultation. Even the Disciples almost be- j gan to hope, although they had been warned that this would i be the last sun, although they knew that they were accompany¬ ing a man about to die. The procession approached the mysterious, hostile city with the roaring tumult of a torrent that has burst its banks. These i countrymen, these people from the provinces, came forward i flanked as by a moving forest, as if they had wished to carry a little country freshness inside the noisome walls, into the ! 1 drab alleyways. The boldest had cut palm branches , along i the road, boughs of myrtle, clusters of olives, willow leaves, j and they waved them on high, shouting out the impassioned ^ words of the Psalmist towards the shining face of Him who 1 ' came in the name of God. i Now the first Christian legion had arrived before the gates of Jerusalem and the voices did not still their homage: “Blessed be the King that cometh in the name of the Lord: i peace in heaven, and glory in the highest!” Their shouting ; reached the ears of the Pharisees, who arrived, haughty and ) severe, to investigate the seditious noise. The cries scandalized those learned ears and troubled those suspicious hearts, and some of them, well wrapped up in their doctoral cloaks, called from among the crowd to Jesus: “Master, rebuke thy dis¬ ciples.” And then He, without halting, “I tell you that, if these ? LIFE OF CHRIST 247 should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry I out!” The silent, motionless stones which, according to St. John, God could have transformed into sons of Abraham; the hot I stones of the desert which Jesus was not willing to change into I loaves of bread at the challenge of the Adversary; the hostile I stones of the street which twice had been picked up to stone I Him; the hard stones of Jerusalem would have been less hard, less icy, less insensitive than the souls of the Phrarisees. But with this answer, Jesus had asserted His right to be called ^^the Christ.” It was a declaration of war. At the very moment of His entrance into His city, the New Eling gave the signal for the attack. THE DEN OF THIEVES He went up to the Temple where all His enemies were as- ! sembled. On the hill-top the sacred fortress sunned its new f whiteness in the magnificence of the day. The old Ark of the i nomads, drawn by oxen through sweltering deserts and over ■ battlefields, had halted on that height, petrified as a defense ^ for the royal city. The moveable cart of the fugitives had I become a heavy citadel of stone and marble, a pompous strong- |i hold of palaces and stairways, shady with colonnades, lighted ■ with courts, enclosed by walls, sheer above the valley, pro- ' tected by bastions and by towers, a fortress rather than a place I of worship. It was not only the precinct of the Holy of I Holies, and the sacrificial altar, it was no longer only the I Temple, the mystic sanctuary of the people. With its great h old towers, its guardrooms, its warehouses for offerings, its ii strong-boxes for deposits, its open piazzas for trade and cov- ered galleries for meetings and amusement, it was anything rather than a sanctuary for meditation and prayer. It was everything, a fortress in case of assault, a bank-vault, a market-place in time of pilgrimage and feast-days, a bazar on I all days, a forum for the disputes of politicians, the wranglings ]of doctors ana the gossip of idlers; a thoroughfare, a rendez- 248 LIFE OF CHRIST vous, a business center. Built by a faithless King to win over the favor of a captious and seditious people, to satisfy the | pride and avarice of the priestly caste, an instrument of war 1 and a market-place for trade, it must have seemed to the eyes I of Jesus the natural focus for all the enemies of His truth. j Jesus goes up to the Temple to destroy the Temple. He | will leave to the Romans of Titus the task of literally disman- | tling the walls, of scattering the masses of stone, of burning I down the buildings, of stealing the bronze and gold, of re- I ducing to a smoky and accursed ruin the great stronghold of | Herod; but He will destroy the values which the proud Temple ? upheld with its piled-up blocks of ordered stone, its paved | terraces and its golden doors. Jesus goes up towards the Tern- j pie: the Man transfigured on the mountain is set against the J scribes parched and withered among their scrolls; the Messiah I of the New Kingdom against the usurper of the kingdom de- 1 filed by compromises, corrupt with infamy; the Gospel against j the Torah; the future against the past; the fire of love against I the ashes of the Letter. The day of battle is at hand. Jesus, | among the songs of His fervent band, goes up to the sumptuous I lair of His enemies. Well does He know the street. How A many times He had gone over it as a little child led along by J the hand in the crowd of pilgrims, in the midst of noise and ' dust, in the band of Galileans! Later as an unknown boy, confused by the dust and heat of the sun, tired and bewildered, ^ He used to look toward the walls desperately longing to ar-;’;.| rive at the summit, hoping to find up there in the sacred^^I precincts a little shade for His eyes, cool water for His mouth,ftf| a word of consolation for His heart. ;■ 1 But to-day everything is transformed. He is not led along. He leads along. He does not come to adore, but to punish.^. :i He knows that there inside, behind the beautiful facades ofi c the sublime sepulcher, there are only ashes and corruption ■ His enemies selling ashes and feeding themselves on corrup- ] tion. The first adversary who comes before Him is the demon “ of greed. He enters into the Court of the Gentiles, the most spacious ^J and most densely crowded of all. The great, sunny, well- J LIFE OF CHRIST 249 )aved terrace is not the atrium of a sanctuary, but a dirty narket-place. An immense, roaring din rises up from the ver- nin-like crowd of bankers, of buyers and sellers, of money- dangers who give and take money. There are herdsmen with heir oxen and their flocks of sheep; venders of pigeons and :urtle doves, standing by the long lines of their coops; bird- iellers, with cages of chirping sparrows; benches for money- hangers, with bowls overflowing with copper and silver. Mer- I hants, their feet in the fresh-dropped dung, handle the flanks t)f the animals destined for sacrifice; or call with monotonous I teration women who have come there after child-birth, pil- I^ims who have come to offer a rich sacrifice, lepers who offer iving birds for their cure, obtained or hoped for. Money- 1 hangers, with a coin hung at their ears as a mark of their l.xade, gloatingly plunge their greedy talons into gleaming i-^flles; the go-betweens run about in the swarm of the gossip- ng groups; niggardly, wary provincials hold excited confer- .-bnces before loosening the purse strings to change their cash nor a votive offering, and from time to time a restless ox drowns mt with his deep bellow the thin bleating of the lambs, the lihrill voices of the women, the clinking of drachma and /ihekels. ii Christ was familiar with the spectacle. He knew that jihe house of God had been turned into the house of Mam- fnon, and that, instead of silently invoking the Spirit, material- minded men trafficked there in the filth of the Demon, with the priests as their accomplices. But this time He did not restrain pis scorn and His repugnance. To destroy the Temple, He Commenced with the destruction of the market-place. The ^'Sternal Mendicant, the poor man, accompanied by his poor ;|’riends, flung Himself against the servitors of money. He had .m His hand a length of rope, which He knotted together like ^ whip, and with it He opened a passage-way through the as¬ tonished people. The benches of the money-changers crashed lown at the first shock. The coins were scattered on the ground amid yells of astonishment and wrath; the seats of the bird-sellers were overturned beside their scattered pigeons. Che herdsmen began to urge towards the doors the oxen and ! 1 I i I 1 250 LIFE OF CHRIST the sheep. The sparrow-sellers took their cages under their : arms and disappeared. Cries rose to Heaven, some scandal- , ized, some approving; from the other court-yards other people ! came running towards the disturbance. Jesus, surrounded by : the boldest of His friends, was brandishing His whip on high, and driving the money-changers towards the door. And He ' repeated in a loud voice, “My house shall be called the house ' of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves!’’ And the last money-handlers disappeared from the courts like rubbish scattered by the wind. BUSINESS THE GOD This action of Jesus was not only the righteous purification : of the sanctuary, but also the public manifestation of His de- i testation for Mammon and the servants of Mammon. Busi- ? ness, that modern god, was for Him a form of theft. A market- • place was therefore a cave of obsequious brigands, of tolerated ) thieves. Among all the elements of the legalized theft which i is called commerce, none is more detestable and shameful than ; the use of money. If some one gives you a sheep in exchange i for money, you can be sure that he has made you pay more : money than the sheep really cost, but at least he gives you something which is not a hateful mineral symbol of wealth. He gives you a living being, which will furnish you wool in the spring time, which will bear you a lamb, and which you ' can eat if you like. But the exchange of money for money, j ' of coined metal for coined metal, is something unnatural, para-1 doxical and demoniac. Everything that is known of banks, rates of exchange, discount and usury, is a shameful and re¬ pellent mystery which has always been the terror of simple souls, that is, of upright and deep souls. The peasant whoi sows his grain, the tailor who makes a garment, the weaver who weaves wool or linen, have up to a certain limit a real right that their wealth should increase, because they have added something which before was not in the world, in cloth, in wool But that a mountain of money should bring forth other money without labor or effort, without production by man of any ob; LIFE OF CHRIST 251 I ject to be seen, to be consumed, to be enjoyed, is a scandal [I which goes beyond, and confounds human imagination. J Money-changers, bankers, amassers of silver and gold, are i slaves of the witchcraft of the Demon more than all others. I And it is to those men, the mien of banks and of finance, that the grateful Demon gives power on this earth: they are the ones even to-day who rule nations, instigate wars, who starve nations, and who, by an infernal system of their own, suck out the life of the poor, transformed into gold, dripping v^^ith sweat and blood. Christ, who pitied the rich, but who hated and detested wealth, the great wall which cuts off from men the vision of the Kingdom of Heaven, had broken up the den of thives and had purified the Temple where He was to teach the last truths I which remained to Him to expound. But with that violent ac- f tion. He had antagonized all the commercial middle-class of !i Jerusalem. The men He had driven away demanded that I their patrons should punish the man who was ruining business i on the Holy Hill. These men of money found ready hearing I with the men of Law, already embittered for other reasons, ii so much the more because Jesus in disturbing the business of È the Temple had condemned and harmed the priests themselves. II The most successful bazars were the property of the sons of j Annas, that is, close relations of the Fligh-Priest Caiaphas. I All the doves which were sold in the Court of the Gen- l tiles were raised on the property of Annas, and the priests who I did business in them made a good income every month out of » turtle-doves alone. The money-changers, who should not have ;i been allowed to stay in the Temple, paid the great Sadducee 3 families of the priestly aristocracy a goodly tithe on the thou- I sands of shekels brought in every year by the exchange of ! foreign money into Hebrew money. Had not the Temple itself perhaps become a great national bank with coffers and strong boxes in treasure chambers? Jesus had wounded the twenty thousand priests of Jerusalem in their prestige and in their purses. He had overturned the values of the falsified and mutilated Letter, in the name of ] which they commanded and on which they fattened. More f 252 LIFE OF CHRIST than this, He had driven out their associates, the traffickers and bankers. If He had His way, it would ruin them all. But the two threatened castes drew together still more closely, to make ; way with the dangerous intruder. It was perhaps that very 1 evening that priests and merchants agreed on the purchase of 1 a betrayer and a cross. The bourgeoisie were to give the small I amount of money necessary; the clergy to find the religious J pretext; the foreign government, naturally desiring to be on ^ good terms with clergy and bourgeoisie, would lend its soldiers. But Jesus, having left the Temple, went His way towards Bethany, peissing by the Mount of Olives. THE VIPERS OF THE TOMBS j The next morning when he went back, the herdsmen and merchants had squatted down outside, near thè doors, but the courts were humming with crowds of excited people. The sentence pronounced and executed by Jesus against the ; honest thieves had set gossiping Jerusalem all agog. Those • blows of the whip, like so many stones thrown into the Jeru- 1 Salem frog-pond, had awakened the poor to joyous hope and > had set the lords quaking with fear. And early in the morning, all had gone up there from the dark alleys and from the fine houses, from the work-shops and from the public squares, leaving all their affairs, with the ; restless anxiety of those who hope for miracles, or revenge. ^ The day-laborers had come, the weavers, the dyers, the cob- ■ biers, the woodworkers, all those who detested the swindlers, the stranglers, the shearers of poverty, traders who enriched . themselves at the expense of indigence. Among the first had i, come the lamentable scum of the city, the dirty vermin-ridden prisoners of eternal beggary, with leprous scabs, with their sores uncared for, with their bones protruding through the skin to testify to their hunger. There had also come pilgrims from outside, those of Galilee, who had accompanied Jesus in His festal entrance; and with them Jews from the Syrian and Egyptian colonies, dressed in their best, like distant relatives LIFE OF CHRIST 253 who reappear every once in so often at the family home for a j family festival. i But there came up also, in groups of four or five, the "Scribes and Pharisees. They were fraternal colleagues, fit- \ ting companions for each other. The Scribes were the Doc- i tors of the Law; the Pharisees were the Puritans of the Law. ; Nearly all the Scribes were Pharisees, many Pharisees were • Scribes. Imagine a professor adding religious pedantry to his doctoral pedantry; or a religious hypocrite provided also with the grave face of a casuistical pedagogue, and you will have the modern equivalent of a Pharisaical Scribe, or of a Pharisee who was also a Scribe. A Tartuffe with academic honors; an Academician, who is at the same time a religious hypocrite; a philosophizing Quaker, are other modern equiva¬ lents. These men therefore went up that morning to the Temple with much show of pride without and many evil intentions within. They came up proudly wrapped in their long cloaks, with their fringes fluttering, their chests thrown out, their eyes .clouded, their eyebrows raised, with sneering mouths and quivering nostrils, with a step which announced their impor¬ tance and the indignation felt by them, God’s privileged sheriffs. Jesus, in the midst of all these eyes turned on Him, waited for those men. It was not the first time that they had come about Him. How many discussions between Him and the pro¬ vincial Pharisees had taken place here and there in the coun- , try! They were Pharisees who had demanded a sign from Heaven, a supernatural proof that He was the Messiah — be¬ cause the Pharisees, unlike the skeptical Sadducees, sunk in legalized Epicureanism, believed in the imminent arrival of the ' Saviour. But the Pharisees expected to see this Saviour as a Jew, strictly observing all laws as they did, and they held that to be worthy to receive Him it v^^as enough to be clean on the outside and to avoid any transgression of any of the trivial rules of Leviticus. The Messiah, the son of David, would not I il 254 LIFE OF CHRIST deign to save those who had not avoided all contact, even re¬ mote, with foreigners and with heathens, who had not observed the smallest detail of legal purification, who had not paid all the tithes of the Temple, who did not respect at any cost the sanctity of the Sabbath day. In their eyes Jesus could not possibly be the Divine Redeemer. No spectacular and magic signs had been seen: He had contented Himself with healing the sick, with talking about love, and with loving. They had seen Him dining with publicans and sinners, and, worse than everything else, had heard with horror that Flis disciples did not always wash their hands before sitting down to the table. But the greatest horror, the unendurable scandal, had been His lack of respect for the Sabbath. Jesus had not hesitated to cure the sick, even on the Sabbath, and He held it no crime on that day to do good to His unfortunate brothers. He even shamelessly gloried in this, claiming blasphemously that the Sabbath was made for man, rather than man for the Sab¬ bath. In the minds of the Pharisees there was only one doubt about Jesus: was He a fool or an impostor? To put the matter to the test, they had tried many times to trap Him by theological tricks, or in dialectical subtleties, but to no avail. As long as He went about in the provinces drawing after Him a few dozen peasants, they had let Him alone, sure that some day or other the last beggar, disillusioned, would leave Him. But now the affair was becoming serious. Accompanied by a band of excitable countrymen. He had gone so far as to enter into the Temple as though it belonged to Him, and had seduced some ignorant unfortunates to call Him the Messiah. More than that, usurping the place of the priests, and almost giving Him¬ self the airs of a king, He had roughly driven out the honest merchants, pious people who admired the Pharisees, even if they did not entirely imitate them. Up to that time the Pharisees had been too easy-going and merciful towards Him. But from now on the unequaled goodness of heart of those ex¬ tremely mild and tolerant professors would be dangerous and inopportune. The intolerable scandal, the reiterated profana¬ tion, the public challenge, called for condemnation and punish- LIFE OF CHRIST 255 I ment. The false Christ must be disposed of and at once. I Scribes and Pharisees went up on the hill to see if He had had I the impertinence to go back to the place contaminated by I His boasting. I Jesus was waiting for just those men. He wanted to say to . them publicly, with the open sky as witness, what He thought I of them, what God thought of them, the definite truth about ! them. The day before, with His whip, He had condemned the animal-sellers and money-changers. Now He was dealing with the merchants of the Word, with the usurers of the Law, with the swindlers of Truth. The condemnation of that day did not exterminate them: with every generation such men spring up again, innumerable, with new names; but their faces are stamped forever with this condemnation wherever they are born and command. THE DESCENDANTS OF CAIN i 'll ,1 “Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites I” Their sins could be reduced to one, but that is the most poisonous, the least pardonable of all sins: the sin against the Spirit, the sin against Truth, the betrayal of Truth and Spirit, the laying waste of the only pure wealth which the world possesses. Thieves steal perishable goods, assassins kill the corruptible body, prostitutes sully flesh destined to corruption; but the hypocrites, the Pharisees sully the Word of the absolute, steal the promises of eternity, assassinate the soul. Everything in them is pretense : their dress and their talk, their teaching and their practice. What they say is contradicted by what they do. Their inner life does not correspond to what they choose to show. Secret swinishness gives the lie to their every claim. They are hypocrites because they cover themselves with fringed mantles and with wide phylacteries, to be seen in public places, and love to be called “Master,” and all the time they have hidden the keys of knowledge and have shut the gates of the Kingdom of Heaven, and neither go in themselves nor suffer others to enter. H5qDocrites because they make long prayers in public and devour the houses of widows, and take advantage 256 LIFE OF CHRIST of the weak and the desolate. Hypocrites because they wash and clean the outside of the platter and the cup, and inside they are full of rapine and extortion. Hypocrites because they give their attention to minutiae of rites and purifications and have no care for greater things: they strain at a gnat and swallow a camel. Hypocrites because they observe the smallest com¬ mandments and do not obey the only one which is of value: they pay punctually the tithe of mint and anise and cummin and rue, but they have not justice, mercy and faith in their hearts. Hypocrites because they build monuments to the prophets and garnish the sepulchers of righteous men of old times, but persecute the righteous men of to-day, and are pre¬ paring to kill the prophets. ^^Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell? Wherefore, behold I sent unto you prophets, and wise men, and scribes: and some of them ye shall kill and crucify; and some of them shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute them from city to city: That upon you may come all the righteous blood ! shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous Abel unto the blood of Zacharias son of Barachias, whom ye slew between i the temple, and the altar.” They have accepted the inheritance of Cain. They are the descendants of Cain. They kill brothers, execute saints, crucify prophets. And, like Cain, God has stamped upon their : faces a Sign — the mysterious sign of immortality. They can¬ not be killed because theirs are the hands which must kill. The ' fugitive fratricide was saved by this sign among early men, , and the murderous Pharisees will be saved through all the cen¬ turies because God needs them for the high works of His ; justice which seems foolishness and madness to the eyes of 1 little-minded men. An eternal decree, not revealed to most ! men, decrees death and the most atrocious death to all who would be like God. But the simple man could never assassinate a saint, nor even a sinner, a miraculous chrysalis of potential ■ sanctity. And the saint would no longer be a saint if he took i the life of another saint, the only brother given him by the ; Father. So the indestructible race of the Pharisees was created for all centuries and for all peoples, men who are never simple i LIFE OF CHRIST 257 ! j like children and who never know the way of salvation, those i who are not visibly sinners, biit who are from head to foot the ) incarnation of the ugliest sin, those who wish to appear saints I and who hate real saints. God has made them fitting instru- 3 ments of an appalling and necessary massacre, to play the part of executioners of perfect men. Faithful to this command, in- 1 vulnerable as inhabitants of Hell, marked like Cain, immortal as hypocrisy and cruelty, they have survived all the empires and all the overthrows of empire. With different faces, with ! different garments, with different rules and pretexts, they have covered the face of the earth, stubborn and prolific, up to the present day. And when they have not been able to kill with nails and with fire, with axes and with knives, they have used tongue and pen with the utmost success. Jesus, while He spoke to them in the great open courtyard crowded with witnesses, knew that He spoke to His Judges, and to those who would be, through intermediate persons, the real authors of His death. By speaking out on this day. He justified His later silence before Caiaphas and Pilate. He had condemned them and they would condemn Him; He had judged them first and had nothing more to add when they wished to judge Him. Images of death came to His lips as He described them to themselves: vipers and tombs, treacherous black vipers, which as soon as you approach them pour into your blood all the poison hidden in their fangs. Whited sepulchers, fair without but within full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. The Pharisees who stood before Jesus, and all those who have legitimately descended from them, are glad to hide them¬ selves in the shadow of the dead, to prepare their venom. Cold as a snake’s skin, as the stone of a tomb, neither the heat of the sun, nor the warmth of love, nor the fires of Hell can ever warm them. They know all the words save one, the word of Life. ‘‘Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are as graves which appear not, and the men that walk over them I are not aware of them.” The only one aware of this was I Jesus — and it was because of this that He was not to remain 258 LIFE OF CHRIST | more than two days in the sepulcher which they were preparing! for Him. V f t ONE STONE UPON ANOTHER The Thirteen went down from the Temple to make their daily ascent to the Mount of Olives. One of the Disciples (who could it have been? — perhaps John, son of Salome, still ' rather childish and naively full of wonder at what he saw? Or Judas Iscariot, with his respect for wealth?) said to Jesus, ^^Master, see what manner of stones and what buildings are here!” The Master turned to look at the high walls faced with i marble which the ostentatious calculation of Herod had built up -i on the hill and said, “Seest thou these great buildings? there shall not be left one stone upon another, that shall not be-: thrown down.” The admiring exclamation suddenly died. No one daredj answer, but perplexed and surprised, each of them continued! to turn over in his mind these words. Hard words for the ears’ *1 of those carnal-minded Jews, for the narrow hearts of those >i ambitious provincials. He whom they loved had said in these last days many other hard words, hard to hear, hard to under- ■' stand, hard to believe. But they did not remember any other ; words so hard as these. They knew that He was the Christ " and that He was to suffer and die, but they hoped that He 1 would rise again at once in the glorious victory of the new David, to give abundance to all Israel and to award the greatest - prizes and power to them, faithful to Him in the dangerous wanderings of His poor days. But if the world was to be com- ■ manded by Judea, Judea was to be commanded by Jerusalem, ' and the seats of command were to be in the Temple of the great King. It was occupied to-day by the faithless Sadducees, the hypocritical Pharisees, the traitorous Scribes, but Christ ^ was to drive them away to give their places to His apostles. How then could the Temple be destroyed, splendid memorial of the kingdom in the past; hoped-for rock of the new King-* dom? Ili LIFE OF CHRIST 259 This talk of stones was harder than a stone for Simon called i| the Rock and for his companions. Had not John the Baptist said that God could change the stones of the Jordan into sons of Abraham? Had not Satan said that t^e Son of God could change the stones of the desert to loaves of wheat bread? Had not Jesus Himself said while He w^as passing the walls of Jerusalem that those very stones, in place of men, would have shouted out greetings and sung hymns? And was it not He who had made the stones fall from the hands of His enemies, the stones which they had taken up to kill Him? And had He jnot made them fall from those who accused the adulteress? But the Disciples could not understand this talk about the stones of the Temple. They could not and they would not un¬ derstand that those great massive stones, quarried out pa¬ tiently from the mountains, drawn from afar by oxen, squared and prepared by chisels and mallets, put one upon an¬ other by masters of the art to make the most marvelous Temple of the universe; that these stones, warm and brilliant in the sun, should be torn apart once more and pulverized into ruins. They had scarcely arrived at the Mount of Olives, and Christ had only had time to sit down opposite to the Temple, when their curiosity burst out: “Tell us, when shall these things be? and what shall be the sign when all these things shall be fulfilled?’^ The answer was the discourse on the Last Things, the second Sermon on the Mount. At the beginning of His work. He had explained how the soul must be transformed to found the King¬ dom; now at death’s door He taught what the punishment of the stubborn would be and in what manner He would come again. This discourse, less understood than the other, and even i|| more forgotten, is not, as it is generally believed, the answer i i to one question only. The Disciples had put two questions, 1|| “When shall these things be?” That is, the ruin of the Tem- i pie; and “What shall be the signs of Thy coming?” There are ! two answers to these two questions. Jesus first describes the events which will precede the destruction of Jerusalem, and 200 LIFE OF CHRIST then He describes the signs of His second appearance. The prophetic discourse^ although it is read all in one piece in the Gospels, had two parts. The prophecies are two, quite dis¬ tinct from each other; the first was fulfilled before the end of Jesus’ generation, about forty years after His death. The second has not yet been fulfilled, but perhaps before the pass¬ ing of our own generation the first signs will be seen. SHEEP AND GOATS Jesus knew the weakness of the Disciples, weakness of the spirit, and perhaps also of the flesh, and Fie puts them on their guard against two great perils: fraud and martyrdom. ‘Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ, and shall deceive many. Then if any man shall say unto you, Lo, here is Christ, or there; believe it not. For false Christs and false prophets; shall rise and shall shew signs and wonders, to seduce, if it were possible, even the elect. Go not after them, nor follov. them.” But although they are to flee from the frauds of the false Messiahs, they cannot escape the persecutions of the enemies of the real Christ. “Then shall they deliver you up to be af-l] flicted, and shall kill you: and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name’s sake. But take heed to yourselves: for thej shall deliver you up to councils; and in the synagogues y( shall be beaten: and ye shall be brought before rulers anc kings for my sake, for a testimony against them. . . . Novi the brother shall betray the brother to death, and the fathe, the son; and the children shall rise up against their parents and shall cause them to be put to death. . . . And then shal many be offended, and shall betray one another, and shal hate one another . . . and because iniquity shall abound, th love of many shall wax cold. But he that shall endure to th end, the same shall be saved.” Then shall begin the signs of the imminent punishment “And when ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars, be ye no troubled: for such things must needs be; but the end shall nc I f LIFE OF CHRIST 261 be yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom I against kingdom: and there shall be earthquakes in divers places, and there shall be famines and troubles: these are the t beginnings of sorrow.” These are the preliminary warnings: the order of the world shall be disturbed, the world, peaceful at the time when Christ pronounced these words, shall see man set against man, nation against nation, and the earth itself soaked with blood shall rise against men; shall tremble under their steps; shall cast down their houses; shall vomit out ashes, as if it cast out from the ^ mouth of its mountains all its dead, and shall deny to the n fratricides the food which ripens to gold every summer in the fields. Then when all this shall have come to pass, the punishment Mwill come upon those people who would not be born again in ’^'Christ, who did not accept the Gospel; on the city which nailed ^|its Lord upon Golgotha and persecuted His witnesses. ‘‘And when ye shall see Jerusalem compassed with armies, Wthen know that the desolation thereof is nigh. But when ye lishall see the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel, 3|the prophet, standing where it ought not, (let him that readeth understand,) then let them that be in Judea flee to the moun- tains: and let him that is on the housetop not go down into the house, neither enter therein, to take anything out of his house: sjjAnd let him that is in the field not turn back again for to y|take up his garment. But woe to them that are with child, and “Ito them who give suck in those days! And pray ye that your TOight be not in winter. For in those days shall be affliction, 'f'Isuch as was not from the beginning of creation which God Created unto this time, neither shall be. There shall be great “Mistress in the land, and wrath upon this people. And they “Ibhall fall by the edge of the sword, and shall be led away cap- ive into all nations: and Jerusalem shall be trodden down of e Gentiles, until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled.” This is the end of the first prophecy. Jerusalem shall be taken and destroyed and of the Temple, defiled by the abomi- ation of desolation, there shall remain not one stone upon “ianother. 202 LIFE OF CHRIST But Jesus has not said all, until now has not spoken of His second coining. “Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles, until the times ot the Gentiles be fulfilled.” What are these “tempi dei Gentili, tempora nationum”? The words of the Greek texts express it with greater precision than the other languages: they are the times adapted to, fitting, and awaiting the Gen¬ tiles, that is, those in which the non-Jews shall be converted to the Gospel, announced to the Jews before all others. There¬ fore that real end shall not come until the Gospel has been carried into all nations, until the Gentiles, the faithless ones, tread down the city of Jerusalem. “And this gospel of the, kingdom shall be preached in all the world for a witness unto all nations; and then shall the end come.” The second coming of Christ from Heaven, the Parusia, will be the end of this world and the beginning of the true world, the eternal kingdom. The end of Judea was announced by signs human and terrestrial; this other end will be preceded by signs divine and celestial. “The sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light. And the stars of heaven | shall fall. And upon the earth distress of nations, with per¬ plexity; the sea and the waves roaring; Men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after these things which are coming on the earth : for the powers of heaven shall be shaken. And then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven: and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory.” For the end of Jerusalem only, the little earth was troubled; but for this universal ending. Heaven itself is convulsed. In the great sudden blackness only the roaring of water will be heard, and screams of terror. It is the Day of the Lord, the*^ day of God’s wrath described in their times by Ezekiel, Jere¬ miah, Isaiah and Joel. “The day of the Lord is at hand, and as a destruction from the Almighty shall it come. A day of darkness and of gloominess! The land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness. The people shall be much pained: all faces shall gather black- LIFE OF CHRIST 263 i ness. Therefore shall all hands be faint and every man’s heart ; shall melt. And they shall be afraid: pangs and sorrow shall : take hold of them; they shall be in pain as a woman that Hravaileth; they shall be amazed one at another.^ Behold the jday of the Lord cometh, cruel both with wrath and fierce i anger, to lay the land desolate: and he shall destroy the sin- Iners thereof out of it. For the stars of heaven and the con¬ stellations thereof shall not give their light: the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll : and all their host shall fall down, •’ as the leaf falleth off from the vine, and as a falling fig from sjthe fig tree.” f ; This is the day of the Father, day of blackness in the Heav- |,ens and of terror on earth. But the day of the Son follows immediately after. He does not appear this time hidden in a stable, but on high in Heaven, no longer poor and wretched, but in power and plendor of glory. ‘‘And he shall send his angels with a reat sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his jelect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the Jother.” And when the celestial trumpets shall have awakened all those sleeping in the tombs, the irrevocable division shall be made. “When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the iflholy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his llglory: “And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall eparate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his |sheep from, the goats: “And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats n his left. “Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand. Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: “For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: “Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: was in prison, and ye came unto me. “Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when 204 LIFE OF CHRIST saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? “When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? “Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? “And the King shall answer and say unto them. Verily I say unto you. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. “Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand. Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: “For I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: “I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. “Then shall they also answer him, saying. Lord, when saw' we thee an hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? “Then shall he answer them, saying. Verily I say unto you. Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. “And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but' the righteous into life eternal.’’ Jesus, even in His glory as judge of the last Day, does not forget the poor and unhappy whom He loved so greatly during His life on earth. He wishes to appear as one of those “least’’ who hold out their hands at the doors and on whom the “great’’ look down. On earth, in the time of Tiberius, He was the ' man who was hungering for bread and love, thirsting for water and martyrdom, who was like a stranger in His own country j| not recognized by His own brothers, who stripped Himself tc clothe those shaking with cold, who was sick with sorrow anóli suffering and no one comforted Him, who was imprisoned ir the base prison of human flesh, in the narrow prison of earthlj ; life. He was divinely hungering for souls, thirsting for faith ' He was the stranger come from the ineffable fatherland, de ] fenseless before whips and insults, the Man sick with the hoi) i LIFE OF CHRIST 265 madness of love. But on that great Day of final Judgment, He will not be thinking of Himself, as He did not think of Himself when He was a man among men. The code of this dividing of good from evil men will be based on one idea only: Compassion — Charity. During all the time which lies between His first and second coming He has gone on living under the appearance of the poor and the pilgrims, of the sick and persecuted, of wanderers and slaves. And on the Last Day He pays His debts. Mercy shown to thpse “least” was shown to Him, and He will reward that mercy in the name of all. Only those who did not receive Him when He appeared in the innumerable bodies of the poverty-stricken will be condemned to eternal punishment, because when they drove away the unfortunate they drove away God. When they refused bread, water and a garment to the poor man, they condemned the Son of God to cold, thirst and hunger. The Father had no need of your help, for all is His and He loves you even during the moments when you curse Him. But you must love the Father in the persons of His children. And those who did not quench the thirst of the thirsty will them¬ selves thirst for all eternity; those who did not warm the naked man will suffer in fire for all eternity; those who did not comfort the prisoner will be prisoners of Hell forever; those who did not receive the stranger will never be received in Heaven, and those who did not help the fever-stricken pa¬ tient will shiver in the spasms of everlasting fever. The Great Poor Man in the day of His glory will, as justice dictates, reward every one with His infinite riches. He who has given a little life to the poor will have life forever; he who has left the poor in pain will himself be in pain forever. And then the bare sky will be peopled with other more powerful suns, with stars flaming more brightly in the heavens and there will be a new Heaven and a new Earth, and the Chosen will live not as we live now, like beasts, but in the likeness of angels. 206 LIFE OF CHRIST WORDS WHICH SHALL NOT PASS AWAY j But when shall these things come to pass? These are the signs, this is the manner in which it shall happen. But the time? Shall we be still here, we who are now under the light of the sun? Or shall the grandchildren of our grandchildren see tliese events while we are dust and ashes under the earth? Up to the very last, the Twelve understand as little as twelve stones. They have the truth before them and they do not see it: they have the Light in their midst and the Light does not reach them. If only they had been among stones like diamonds which send back, divided into reflected rays, the light which strikes them. But these twelve men are rough stones, scarcely dug out of the darkness of the quarry, dull stones, opaque stones, stones which the sun can warm but not kindle, stones which are lighted from without but do not re¬ flect the splendor. They have not yet understood that Jesus is not a common diviner, a student of the Chaldeans and of the Etruscans, and that He has nothing to do with the presumptu¬ ous pretensions of astrology. They have not understood that a definitely dated prophecy would not work on men to create a conversion which needs perpetual vigilance. Perhaps they have not even understood that the Apocalyptic sayings re¬ vealed on the Mount of Olives form a double prophecy which refers to two events, different and distant from each other. Perhaps these provincial fishermen, for whom a lake was the ^ sea and Judea was the universe, confused the end of the | Hebrew people v^^ith the end of the human race, the punish- j ment of Jerusalem with the second coming of Christ. | But the discourse of Jesus, although it is presented as one j unit in the synoptic Gospels, shows us two distinct prophecies. i|j The first announces the end of the Jewish kingdom, the pun- ' ishment of Jerusalem, the destruction of the Temple; the sec- i ond the end of the old world, the reappearance of Jesus, the ■ judgment of the merciful and of the merciless, the beginning j; of the New Kingdom. The first prophecy given is close at j hand — this generation shall not pass before these things shall ! have arrived — and is local and limited, since it is concerned i LIFE OF CHRIST 267 only with Judea and especially with Judea’s metropolis. The hour and the day of the second are not known because certain events, slow to take place but essential, must precede this end, which, unlike the other, will be universal. The first, as a matter of fact, was fulfilled to the letter, detail by detail, about forty years after the crucifixion, while many who had known Jesus were still living; the second coming, the triumphal Parusia, is still awaited by those who believe what He said on that day, ^‘Heaven and earth shall pass away: but my words shall not pass away.” A few years after Jesus’ death the signs of the first prophecy began to be seen. False prophets, false Christs, false apostles, swarmed in Judea, as snakes come out of their holes when dog- days arrive. Before Pontius Pilate was exiled, an impostor showed himself in Samaria, who promised to recover the sacred vessels of the Tabernacle hidden by Moses on Mount Gerizim. The Samaritans believed that such a discovery would be the prelude to the coming of the Messiah, and a great mob gath¬ ered threateningly on the mountain until it was dispersed by Roman swords. Under Cuspius Fadus, the procurator who governed from 44 to 66, there arose a certain Theudas, who gave himself out for a great personage and promised great prodigies. Four hundred men followed him, but he was captured and decapi¬ tated, and those who had believed him dispersed. After him ^ came an Egyptian Jew, who succeeded in gathering four thou¬ sand desperate men, and camping on the Mount of Olives an¬ nouncing that at a sign from him the walls of Jerusalem would fall. The Procurator Felix attacked him and drove him out into the desert. In the meantime, in Samaria, arose the notorious Simon Magus, he who bewitched people with his prodigies and in¬ cantations and announced himself as the Power of God. This man, seeing the miracles of Peter, wished to turn Christian, im¬ agining that the Gospel was only one of those Oriental mys¬ teries into which an initiation gave new powers. Repelled by Peter, Magus became the father of heresies. Fie believed that Enncea first came from God and that it is now imprisoned in 268 LIFE OF CHRIST I human beings: according to him Ennoea (or, the first concep- • tion of the Deity), was incarnate in Helen of Tyre, a prosti- | tute who followed him everywhere; and faith in him and in Helen was a necessary condition of salvation. Cerinthus, the first Gnostic, was one of his followers, against whom John j wrote his Gospel — and Menander, who boasted that he was Saviour of the world. Another Elxai mixed up the old and new Covenant, told stories of many incarnations besides those of ; Christ, and swaggered about with his followers, boasting of his magic powers. Hegesippus says that a certain Tebutis • through jealousy of Simon, second Bishop of Jerusalem, formed a sect that recognized Jesus as Messiah, but in i; everything else was faithful to the old Judaism. Paul, in the ■ Epistle to Timothy, puts the ^^Saints’’ on guard against Hy¬ men eus, and Phyletus and Alexander. For such are false ' prophets, deceitful workers transforming themselves into the * apostles of Christ, ‘^who twisted truth and sowed the evil seed i of heresy in the early church.” A Dositheus had himself called Christ, and a certain Nicholas began with his errors the sect of '' the Nicolaitans, condemned by John in the Apocalypse: and the Zealots fomented incessant tumults, claiming that the Ro- ■ mans and all the heathen should be driven out in order that f God might return to triumph with His own people. The second sign, the persecution, arrived promptly. The : Disciples had scarcely begun to preach the Gospel in Jerusalem ' when Peter and John were thrown into prison: freed, they were captured again, and beaten and commanded to speak no : more in the name of Jesus. Stephen, one of the most ardent i of the neophytes, was taken by the priests outside the city and stoned. Under the rule of Agrippa the tribulations began afresh. In : 42 Herod’s descendant had James the Greater, the brother of t John, killed by the sword; and for a third time Peter was im¬ prisoned. In 62 James the righteous, called the brother of : Our Lord, was thrown from the terrace of the Temple and killed. In 50 Claudius exiled the Christian Jews from Rome; ‘‘Impulsore Chrestus tumultuantes.” In 58, on account of the 1 conversion of Pomponia Grsecina, the war against converts be- j LIFE OF CHRIST 269 I gan in the capital of the Empire. In 64 the burning of Rome, desired and executed by Nero, was the pretext for the first great persecution. An innumerable multitude of Christians obtained their martyrdom in Rome and in the Provinces. Many were crucified: others wrapped in the “tunica molesta” lighted up the nocturnal amusement of the Caesar: others wrapped in animal skins were given as food to dogs: many, en¬ forced actors in cruel comedies, made a spectacle for amphi¬ theaters and were devoured by lions. Peter died on the cross, nailed head downward. Paul ended under the ax a life which since his conversion had been one long torment. Ten years before his death in 57 he had been flogged five times by the Jews, beaten three times with rods by the Romans, three times imprisoned, three times shipwrecked, stoned and left for dead at Lystra. The greater part of the other Disciples met with similar fates. Thomas met a martyr’s death in India, Andrew was crucified at Patras, Bartholomew was crucified in Armenia. Simon the Zealot and Matthew, like their Master, ended their lives on the cross. Nor were there lacking wars and rumors of wars. When Jesus was killed, the “peace of Augustus” still existed, but very soon nations rise against nations and kingdoms against king¬ doms. Under Nero the Britons rebel and massacre the Romans, the Parthians revolt and force the legions to pass under the yoke; Armenia and Syria murmur against foreign government; Gaul rises with Julius Vindex, Nero is near his end, the Spanish and Gallic legions proclaim Galba Emperor; Nero, fleeing from the Golden House, succeeds in being abject even in suicide. Galba enters Rome, but brings no peace; Nymphidius Sabinus at Rome, Capito in Germany, Clodius Macer in Africa, dispute the power with him. All are dissatisfied with him: on the 15th of January, 69, the Praetorians kill him and proclaim Otho. But the German legions had already proclaimed Vitellius and move on Rome. Conquered at Bedriacum Otho commits sui¬ cide, but Vitellius does not rule long either; the Syrian legions choose Vespasian, who sends Antonius Primus into Italy. The followers of Vitellius are defeated at Cremona and at Rome; Vitellius, the voracious hog, is killed on the 20th of December, !l 270 LIFE OF CHRIST 69. In the meanwhile insurrection breaks out in the north, v/ith the Batavians, v/ith Claudius Civilus, and the insurrec¬ tion of the Jews is not stamped out in the east. In less than^ two years Italy is invaded twice, Rome taken twice, two Em¬ perors kill themselves; two are killed. And there are wars and rumors of wars on the Rhine and on the Danube, on the Po and on the Tiber, on the banks of the North Sea, at the feet of Atlas and of Tabor. The other afflictions announced by Jesus accompany in these years the upheaval of the Empire. Caligula the Mad complained because in his reign nothing horrible happened: he desired famines, pestilences and earthquakes. The degen- ; erate and incestuous epileptic did not have his wish, but in ! the time of Claudius a series of poor crops brought famine even to Rome. Under Nero pestilence v/as added to the famine, and at Rome alone in one autumn the treasury of -Venus Libitina registered thirty thousand deaths. In 61 and 62 earthquakes shook Asia, Achaia, and Mace¬ donia: especially the cities of Hierapolis, Laodicea and Colos- sse were greatly damaged. In 63 it was Italy’s turn: at Naples, Nocera and Pompeii the earth shook. All the Campagna was a prey to terror. And as if this were not enough, three years later, in 66, the Campagna was devastated by cloudbursts, which destroyed the crops and rendered more threatening the prospects of famine. And while Galba was entering Rome (68) the earth shook under his feet with a terrible roar. All the signs were fulfilled: now had come the fullness of time for the punishment of Judea. JUDEA OVERCOME | i The earthquake which shook Jerusalem on the Friday of | Golgotha was like a signal for the Jewish outbreak. For forty ^ years the country of the god-killers had no peace, not even the ] peace of defeat and slavery, up to the day, when of the Temple not one stone was left upon another. 1 Pilate, Cuspius Fadus and Agrippa had been forced to dis- jj perse the bands of the false Messiahs. Under the Roman | LIFE OF CHRIST 271 ) procurator^ Tiberius Alexander, the conflict began with the raging sect of the Zealots and ended with the crucifixion of the leaders, James and Simon, sons of Judas the Galilean. The procurator, Ventidius Cumanus, 48-52, did not have a day’s peace: the Zealots and their allies, the Sicarii, did not lay down their arms. Under the procurator Felix the disorders knew no truce: under Albinus the flames of the revolt flared out more boldly. Finally at the time of Gessius Florus, 64-66, the last procurator of Judea, the fire, which for some time had been flickering, spread all over the country. The Zealots took possession of the Temple: Florus was obliged to flee. Agrippa, who went as peace-maker, was stoned, Jerusalem fell into the power of Menahem, another son of Judas the Galilean. Zealots and Sicarii now in power massacred the non- Jews and also those among the Jews who seemed tepid to their fanatic eyes. And then finally came the abomination predicted by Daniel and recorded by Christ. The prophecy of Daniel had already been fulfilled when Antiochus IV Epiphanes had profaned the Temple by placing there the statue of Olympian Jove. In 39 Caligula the Mad, who had set himself up as God and nad himself adored as God in various places, had sent the order to the procurator Petronius to put the imperial statue in the Temple, but he died before the order was executed. But Jesus was alluding to something quite other than statues. The holy place during the great rebellion occupied by the Sicarii had become a refuge for assassins, and the great courts were soaked with blood, even with priestly blood. And the Holy City underwent also the abomination of desolation, when in December of 66 Cestius Gallus, at the head of forty thousand men, came to crush the insurgents, camped around Jerusalem I with those imperial insignia which the Jews held in horror as Ji! idolatrous, and which through a concession of the Emperors I had not till then been introduced into the city, j But Cestius Gallus, finding more resistance than he had an¬ ticipated, retreated and the retreat was turned into flight to I the great jubilation of the Zealots, who saw in this victory a j! sign of divine help. si 'll : LIFE OF CHRIST 272 In those days, between the first and second assault, when already the double abomination had contaminated the city, the Christians of Jerusalem, obeying the prophecy of Jesus, fled to Pela, beyond the Jordan But Rome had no intention of giving way to the Jews. The command of the punitive expedi¬ tion was given to Titus Flavius Vespasian, who, gathering an army at Ptolemais in 67, advanced against Galilee and con¬ quered it. While the Romans were taking up winter quarters, John of Gischala, one of the heads of the Zealots, having taken refuge in Jerusalem at the head of a band of Idumeans, over¬ turned the aristocratic government and the city was full of up¬ roar and blood. Vespasian, going to Rome to become Emperor, gave the ' command to his son Titus, who on Easter Day in the year 70, came up before Jerusalem and began the siege. Horrible days began. Even at the height of danger, the Zealots, car- • ried away by wild frenzy, quarreled among themselves, and split up into factions, who fought for the control of the city. ' John of Gischala occupied the Temple, Simon Bar Giora | the city, and their partisans cut the throats of those whom the i Romans had not yet killed. In the meantime Titus had taken possession of two lines of wall and of a part of the city: on the fifth of July the Tower of Antonia fell into his power. To the horror of fratricidal massacre and of the siege was added that of hunger. The famine was so great that mothers were seen, so says Josephus, to kill their children and eat them. On the loth of August the Temple was taken and burned, the Zealots succeeding in shutting themselves up into the upper city, but conquered by hunger they were obliged ’ to surrender on the 7th of September. The prophecies of Jesus had been fulfilled: the city by ; Titus^ order was laid waste: and of the Temple already swept 1 by fire, there remained not one stone upon another. The Jews who had survived hunger and the swords of the Sicarii were massacred by the victorious soldiery. Those who still re¬ mained were deported into Egypt to work in mines, and many were killed for the amusement of the crowd in the Amphithea¬ ters of Caesarea and Berytus. Some hundreds of the handsom- : LIFE OF CHRIST 273 li Ir P- est were taken prisoners to Rome to figure in the triumphal pro¬ cession of Vespasian and Titus, and there Simon Bar Giora and other heads of the Zealots were executed before the idols which they hated. ^‘Verily I say unto you, This generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled.” It was the seventieth year of the Christian era and His generation had not yet gone down into the tomb when these things happened. One at least of those who heard Him on the Mount of Olives, John, was witness of the destruction of Jerusalem and of the ruin of the Temple. Within the destined time the words of Jesus were fulfilled, syllable by syllable, with atrocious exactness, by a story of blood and fire. ic . i It THE PARUSIA The end of the god-killing people, the partial and local end¬ ing, had taken place. According to the sentence of Christ, the statues of the Temple were scattered among the ruined walls and the faithful of the Temple had met their death by torture or were scattered among other nations. The second prophecy is left. When shall the Son of Man come on the clouds of Heaven, preceded by darkness, an¬ nounced by angels^ trumpets? Jesus says that no one can be sure of the day of His coming. The Son of Man is likened to lightning which flashes suddenly in the east, to a thief who comes by stealth in the night, to a master who has gone far away and returns suddenly to take his servants by surprise. We must be vigilant and ready. Purify your hearts, be¬ cause you do not know when He may come; and woe to him who is not ready to appear before Him. Take heed to your¬ selves lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with sur¬ feiting, and drunkenness, and the cares of this life; and so that day come upon you unawares, for as a snare shall it come upon all them that dwell on the face of the whole earth. But if Jesus does not announce the day. He tells us what things must be fulfilled before that day. These things are two : the Gospel of the Kingdom shall be preached to all the na- 274 LIFE OF CHRIST tions and the Gentiles shall no longer tread down Jerusalem. These two conditions are fulfilled in our own time and per¬ haps the great day approaches. There are no longer in the world any civilized nations or barbarous tribes where the de¬ scendants of the Apostles have not preached the Gospel: since 1918 the Moslems have no longer trodden down Jerusalem and there is talk of a reestablishment of the Jewish State. Ac¬ cording to the words of Hosea, the end of the time shall be’ near when the sons of Israel, left so long without altar and v/ithout King, shall be converted to the Son of David and shall turn, trembling, towards God’s goodness. > If the words of the second prophecy are true, as the words of the first prophecy were shown to be true, the Second Com¬ ing cannot be far distant. Once again in these years nations have risen against nations, the earth has quaked, destroying many lives, and pestilences, famines and seditions have deci¬ mated nations. For more than a century the words of Christ have been translated and preached in all languages. Soldiers who believe in Christ, although they are not all faithful to the a heirs of Peter, are in command over that city, which after its downfall was in the power of the Romans, the Persians, the; Egyptians and the Turks. And still men do not think of Jesus ; and His promise. They live as if the world were always go¬ ing to continue as it has been, and they work and mortify • themselves only for their earthly and carnal interests. ‘Tor as in the days that%ere before the flood, they were- eating and drinking, marrying and given in marriage, until the - day that Noah entered into the ark. And knew not until the flood came, and took them all away: so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. Likewise also, as it was in the days of Lot; they did eat, they drank, they bought, they sold, theyj planted, they builded; But the same day that Lot went out of^ Sodom it rained fire and brimstone from heaven and destroyed them all. Even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed.” The same thing happens in our day in spite of the wars and the pestilences which have cut down millions of lives in a few years. People eat and drink, marry and have children, buy ^ LIFE OF CHRIST 275 l and sell, write and play. And no one thinks of the Divine I rhief who will come suddenly in the night, no one waits for the Real Master, who will return unexpectedly, no one looks at the sky to see if lightning is flashing from the east. The apparent life of the living is like the delirious dream of ; a fatal fever. They seem awake because they hurry about ' without rest, occupied by those possessions which are clay and ! poison. They never look up to Heaven — they fear only their ; brothers. Perhaps they are waiting to be awakened in the last hour by those dead of old, who will rise up at the approach of the Resurrected Christ. UNWELCOME While Jesus was condemning the Temple and Jerusalem, those maintained by the Temple and the lords of Jerusalem were preparing His condemnation. i All those who possessed, taught and commanded were wait¬ ing onl)/ for the right moment to assassinate Him, without dan¬ ger to themselves. Every man who had a name, dignity, a school, a shop, a sacred office, a little authority was against Him. Fie came to oppose them and they opposed Him. With fthe idiocy natural to those in power they believed that they Ivould save themselves by putting Him to death, and they did hot know it was exactly His death which was needed as the beginning of their punishment. i To have an idea of the hatred which the upper classes of Jerusalem felt towards Jesus, priestly hatred, scholastic hatred knd commercial hatred, we must remember that the Holy City Apparently lived by faith, but in reality on the Faithful. Only n the Jewish metropolis could valid and acceptable offerings e made to the Old God, and therefore every year, especially n great feast days, streams of Israelites poured in there from i|he Tetrarchates of Palestine and from all the provinces of the Empire. The Temple was not only the one legitimate sanctu¬ ary of the Jews, but for those who were attached to it and for all the others who lived at its feet, it was the great nourishing breast which fed the Capital with the products of the victims. 276 LIFE OF CHRIST the offerings, the tithes and, above all, with the profits ac¬ companying the continual influx of visitors. Josephus say* that at Jerusalem on special occasions there were gathered to gether as many as three million pilgrims. The stationary population depended all the year round or the Temple: business for the animal-sellers, dealers in victuals money-changers, inn-keepers, and even artisans depended or the fortunes of the Temple. The priestly caste, which withou the Levites (and there were a great crowd of them) numberec in Christ’s lifetime twenty thousand descendants of Aaron — go^ their living from the tithes in kind, from the taxes of th( Temple, from the payments for the first-born — even the first born of men paid five shekels a head! — and got their foo(| from the flesh of the sacrificial animals, of which only the fail was burned. They were the ones who had the pick of herd: and crops; even their bread was given them by the people for the head of every Jewish family was obliged to hand ove: to the priests the twenty-fourth part of the bread which wa; baked in his house. Many of them, as we have seen, madi money on the raising of the animals which the Faithful weri obliged to buy for their offerings; others were associated witl money-changers, and it is not impossible that some of then were really bankers, because people readily deposited thei savings in the strong-boxes of the Temple. A net-work of self-interest thus bound to the Herodiar edifice all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, down to the vendors a fairs and the sandal-makers. The priests lived on the Templd and many of them were merchants and rich men: the rid needed the Temple to increase their profits and keep the com mon people respectful: the merchants did business with the rich people who had money to spend, with the priests who were, their associates and with the pilgrims from every part of the, world drawn towards the Temple: the working men and th( poor lived from the scraps and leavings which fell from the tables of the rich, the priests, the merchants and the pilgrims. Religion w^as thus the greatest and perhaps the only busines^j in Jerusalem: any one who attacked religion, its representatives its visible monument (which was the most famous and fruitful LIFE OF CHRIST 277 seat of religion), was necessarily considered an enemy of the people of Jerusalem, and especially of the prosperous and well-to-do. Jesus with His Gospel threatened directly the positions and ‘fees of these classes. If all the prescriptions of the Law were to be reduced to the practice of love, there would be no more Iplace for the Scribes and Doctors of the Law who made their living out of their teachings. If God did not wish animal sac¬ rifices and asked only for purity of soul and secret prayer, the priests might as well shut the doors of the Sanctuary and learn a new profession: those who did business in oxen and calves and sheep and lambs and kids and doves and sparrows would have seen their business slacken and perhaps disappear. If to be loved by God you needed to transform your life, if it were not enough to wash your drinking-cups and punctually pay your tithes, the doctrine and the authorit}^ of the Pharisees would be reduced to nothing. If in short the Messiah had borne and had declared the Primacy of the Temple fallen and sacrifices useless, the capital of the cult would, from one day 10 the next, have lost its prestige and with the passage of time Would have become an obscure settlement of impoverished bien. ^ As a matter of course, Jesus, who preferred fishermen, if they were pure and loving, to members of the Sanhedrin; who iook the part of the poor against the rich, who valued ignorant bhildren more than Scribes, blear-eyed over the mysteries of the Scriptures, drew down on His head the hatred of the Levites, the merchants and the Doctors. The Temple, the Academy and the Bank were against Him: when the victim was .ready ihey would call the somewhat reluctant, but nevertheless ac- “quiescent Roman sword, to sacrifice Him to their peace of mind. For some time the life of Jesus had not been safe. The Pharisees said that Herod had sought to kill Him from the “ days of His last sojourn in Galilee. Perhaps it was the knowl- ^ bdge of this that sent Him into Caesarea Philippi, outside Gali- lee, where He predicted His passion. ^ When He came back to Jerusalem the High Priests, the LIFE OF CHRIST 278 Pharisees and the Scribes gathered about Him to lay traps for Him and take dovm His words. The uneasy and embittered crowd set on His track spies, destined to become false wit¬ nesses in a few days. If we are to believe John, the order was given to certain guards to capture Him, but they were afraid to lay their hands upon Him. The attack with the whips on the animal-sellers and money-changers, the loud invectives against the Scribes and Pharisees, the allusion to the ruin of the Temple, made the cup run over. Time pressed; Jerusalem was full of foreigners and many were listening to Him. Some disorder, some confusion might easily spring up, perhaps an up¬ rising of the provincial crowds who were less attached to the privileges and interests of the metropolis. The contagion must be stopped at the beginning and there seemed to be no better way than to make away with the blasphemer. The wolves of the Altar and of business arranged a meeting of the Sanhedrin to reconcile law with assassination. THE HIGH PRIEST CAIAPHAS The Sanhedrin was the assembly of the chiefs, the supreme council of the aristocracy which ruled the capital. It was com¬ posed of the priests jealous of the clientele of the Temple which gave them their power and their stipends: of the Scribes responsible for preserving the purity of the law and of tradi¬ tion: of the Elders who represented the interests of the mod¬ erate, moneyed middle-class. They were all in accord that it was essential to take Jesus on false pretenses and to have Him killed as a blasphemer against the Sabbath and the Lord. Only Nicodemus attempted a de¬ fense, but they were able quickly to silence him. “What do we? for this man doeth many miracles. If we let him thus alone, all men will believe on him: and the Rom.ans shall come and take away both our place and nation.” It is the Rea-j son of State, the Salvation of the Fatherland which political^ cliques always bring out to screen v/ith legality and ideality the defense of their particular profit. Caiaphas, who that year was High Priest, settled their LIFE OF CHRIST 279 : ioubts with the maxim which has always justified in the eyes •],)f the world the immolation of the innocent. “Ye know noth- ng at all nor consider that it is expedient that one man should j lie for the people and that the whole nation perish not.” This jnaxim in Caiaphas’ mouth, and on this occasion, and for what 1 1 meant, was infamous, and hypocritical like all the speeches § nade by the Sanhedrin. But transposed into a higher mean- : ng and transferred into the Absolute, changing nation into lumanity, the President of the circumcised patriciate was ex- ^ bounding a principle which Jesus Himself had accepted and ^tvhich has become under another form the crucial mystery of f Christianity. Caiaphas did not know — he who had to enter [ done into the Holy of Holies to offer up to Jehovah the sins ^i)f the people — how much his words, coarse in expression and ipynical in sentiment as they were, were in accord with his victim’s thought. The thought that only the righteous can pay for injustice, Mt only the perfect can discount the crimes of the brute, that l^nly the pure can cancel the debts of the ignoble, that only l&od in His infinite magnificence can expiate the sins which an has committed against Him ; this thought, which seems to tian the height of madness exactly because it is the height of lilivine wisdom, certainly did not flash out in the corrupt soul ip the Sadducee when he threw to his sixty accomplices the lophism destined to silence their last remorse. Caiaphas, who |iiOgether with the crown of thorns and the sponge of vinegar mas to be one of the instruments of the Passion, did not im- jigine in that moment that he v/as bearing witness solemnly, jjhough involuntarily, to the divine tragedy about to begin. I And yet the principle that the innocent can pay for the jijuilty, that the death of one man can be salvation for all, was lot foreign to the consciousness of ancient peoples. The leroic myths of the pagans recognize and celebrate voluntary tacrifices of the innocent. They record the example of Pilades, vho offered himself to be punished in place of the guilty Jrestes; Macaria of the blood of Heracles, who saved her brother’s life with her own; Alcestis, who died that she might lljivert from her Admetus the vengeance of Artemis; the 200 LIFE OF CHRIST daughters of Erechtheus, who sacrificed themselves that their father might escape Neptune’s blows. The old King Codrus, who threw himself into the Ilissus, in order that his Athenians might be victorious; and Decius Mus and his sons, who con¬ secrated themselves to the Manes that the Romans might tri¬ umph over the Samnites; and Curtius, who, fully armed, cast himself into the gulf for the salvation of his country; and Iphigenia, who offered her throat to the knife that Agamem¬ non’s fleet might sail safely towards Troy. At Athens during the Thargelian feast two men were killed to save the city from divine wrath; Epimenides the Wise, to purify Athens, profaned by the assassination of the followers of Cylon, had recourse to human sacrifice over the tombs; at Curium, in Cyprus, at Terracina, at Marseilles, every year a man thre^v himself into the sea as payment for the crimes of the com¬ munity, a man regarded as the Saviour of the people. But these sacrifices, when they were spontaneous, were for the salvation of one being alone, or of a restricted group of men; when they were enforced they added a new crime to those they were intended to expiate; they were examples of individual affection or of superstitious crimes. No man had yet appeared who would take upon his head all the sins of men, a God who would imprison Himself in the abject wretchedness of flesh to save all the human race and to give it the power to ascend from bestiality to sanctity, from earthly humiliation to the Kingdom of Heaven. The perfect man, who takes upon himself all imperfections, the pure man who burdens himself with all infamies, the righteous man who shoulders the unrighteousness of all men, had ap¬ peared under the aspect of a poor fugitive from justice in the day of Caiaphas. He who was to die for ail, the Galilean work¬ ing-man who was disquieting the rich and the priests of Jerusa¬ lem, was there on the Mount of Olives only a short distance from the Sanhedrin. The Seventy, who knew not what they did, who did not know that they were obeying the will of the very man they were persecuting, decided to have Him captured before the Passover; but because they were cowardly, like all men of possessions, one thing restrained them, the fear LIFE OF CHRIST 281 i of the people who loved Jesus. They consulted that they 1 might take Jesus by subtlety and kill Him. But they said, . ‘‘Not on the feast day lest there be an uproar among the people.” To solve their difficulty, by good fortune, there came to them the day after one of the Twelve, he who held the : purse, Judas Iscariot. THE MYSTERY OF JUDAS Only two creatures in the world knew the secret of Judas: Christ and the traitor. Sixty generations of Christians have racked their brains over it, but the man of Iscariot, although he has drawn after him crowds of disciples, remains stubbornly incomprehensible. • His is the only human mystery that we encounter in the Gos¬ pels. We can understand without difficulty the depravity of ' Herod, the rancor of the Pharisees, the revengeful anger of li Annas and Caiaphas, the cowardly laxity of Pilate. But we ' have no evidence to enable us to understand the abomination ■ of Judas. The Four Gospels tell us too little of him and of the reasons which induced him to sell his King. ' “Then entered Satan into Judas.” But these words are ' only the definition of his crime. Evil took possession of his ' heart, therefore it came suddenly. Before that day, perhaps during the dinner at Bethany, Judas was not in the power of the Adversary. But why suddenly did he throw himself into ' that power? Why did Satan enter into him and not into one of the others? I Thirty pieces of silver are a very small sum, especially for I an avaricious man. In modern coinage it would amount to about twenty dollars, and, granting that its effective value or I as the economists say its buying power were in those days ten times greater, two hundred dollars seem hardly a sufficient ' price to induce a man whom his companions describe as grasp- I ing to commit the basest perfidy recorded by history. It has been said the thirty pieces of silver was the price of a slave. But the text of Exodus states on the contrary that thirty shekels was the compensation to be paid by the owner of an 202 LIFE OF CHRIST ox which had injured a slave. The cases are too far apart for the doctors of the Sanhedrin to have had this early prece¬ dent in mind. The most significant indication is the office which Judas held among the Twelve. Among them was Matthew, a former tax- collector, and it would have seemed almost his right to handle the small amount of money necessary for the expenses of the brotherhood. In place of Matthew, we see the man of Iscariot as the depository of the offerings. Money is insidious and saturated with danger. The mere handling of money, even if it belongs to others, is poisonous. It is not surprising that John said of Judas the thief, that he, ‘‘having the bag, took away what was put therein.” And yet it is not probable that a man greedy for money would have stayed a long time with a group of such poor men. If he had wished to steal, he would have sought out a more promising position. And if he had needed those miserable thirty pieces of silver, could he not have procured them in another way, by running away : with the purse, without needing to propose the betrayal of 1 Jesus to the High Priests? These common-sense reflections about a crime so extraordi- i nary have induced many to seek other motives for the infamous transaction. A sect of heretics, the Cainites, had a legend that Judas sorrowfully accepted eternal infamy, knowing that Jesus through His will and the will of the Father was to be be¬ trayed to His death, that no suffering might be lacking in the great expiation. A necessary and voluntary instrument of the Redemption, Judas was according to them a hero and a martyr to be revered and not reviled. According to others, Iscariot, loving his people and hoping for their deliverance, perhaps sharing the sentiments of the Zealots, had joined with Jesus, hoping that he was the Messiah such as the common people then imagined Him: the King of the revenge and restoration of Israel. When little by little, in spite of his slowness of comprehension, it dawned on him ' from the words of Jesus that he had fallen in with a Messiah » of quite another kind, he delivered Him over to His enemies ■ to make up for the bitterness of his disappointment. But this « ! , fancy to which no text either canonical or apocryphal gives any support is not enough to explain Christ’s betrayer: he could have deserted the Twelve and gone in search of other company more to his taste, which certainly, as we have seen, was not lacking at that time. Others have said that the reason is to be sought in his loss of faith. Judas had believed firmly in Jesus, and then could believe no longer. What Jesus said about His end close at hand, the threatening hostility of the metropolis, the delay of his victorious manifestation, had ended by causing Judas to lose all faith in Him whom he had followed up till then. He did not see the Kingdom approaching and he did see death approaching. Mingling with the people to find out the tem¬ per of the day, he had perhaps heard a rumor as to the de¬ cisions of the meeting of the Elders and feared that the San¬ hedrin would not be satisfied with one victim alone, but would condemn all those who had long followed Jesus. Overcome by fear — the form which Satan took to enter into him — he thought he could ward off the danger and save his life by treachery; unbelief and cowardice being thus the ignominious motives of his ignominy. An Englishman celebrated as an opium-eater, has thought out a new apology for the traitor which is the opposite of this theory. His idea is that Judas believed: he even believed too absolutely. He was so persuaded that Jesus was really the Christ that he wished by giving Him up to the Tribunal to force Him finally to show Himself as the legitimate Messiah. So strong was his hope that he could not believe that Jesus would be killed. Or if He really were to die, he knew with entire certainty that Eie would rise again at once to sit on the right hand of the Father as King of Israel and of the world. To hasten the great day, in which the Disciples were at last to have the reward for their faithfulness, Judas, secure in the intangibility of his Divine Friend, wished to force His hand and, putting Him face to face with those whom Eie was to cast out, to compel Him to show Himself as the true Son of God. According to this theory the action of Judas was not a betrayal but a mistake due to his misunderstanding of the 284 LIFE OF CHRIST real meaning of his Master’s teaching. He did not betray therefore through avarice or revengefulness or cowardice, but through stupidity. On the other hand others give revenge as the reason. No man betrays another without hating him. Why did Judas hate Jesus? They remember the dinner in the house of Simon and the nard of the weeping woman. The reproof for his stinginess and hypocrisy must have exasperated the disciple who perhaps had been reproved for these faults on other oc¬ casions. To the rancor of this rebuff was added envy which always flourishes in vulgar souls. And as soon as he could re¬ venge himself without danger, he went to the palace of Caiaphas. But did he really think that his denunciation would bring Jesus to His death or did he rather suppose that they would content themselves with flogging Him and forbidding Him to speak to the people? The rest of the story seems to show that the condemnation of Jesus unnerved him as a terrible and unexpected result of his kiss. Matthew describes his de¬ spair in a way to show that he was sincerely horrified by what had happened through his fault. The money which he had pocketed became like fire to him : and when the priests refused to take it back he threw it down in the Temple. Even after this restitution he had no peace and hastened to kill himself. He died on the same day as his victim. Luke in the Acts sets down in another way the evil end of Judas, but the Chris¬ tian tradition prefers the story of his remorse and suicide. In spite of all the unraveling of unsatisfied minds, mys¬ teries are still tangled about the mystery of Judas. But we have not yet invoked the testimony of Him who knew better than all men, even better than Judas, the true secret of the betrayal. Jesus alone could give us the key to the mystery; Jesus who saw into the heart of Judas as into the hearts of all men, and who knew what Judas was to do before he had done it. Jesus chose Judas to be one of the Twelve and to carry the gospel to the world along with the others. Would He have chosen him, kept him with Him, beside Him, at His table. LIFE OF CHRIST 285 for so long a time if Fie had believed him to be an incurable criminal? Would He have confided to him what was dearest in the world to Him, the most precious thing in the world — the prophecy of the Kingdom of God? Up to the last days, up to that last evening, Jesus treated ! Judas exactly like the others. To him, as to all others, He i gave His body, symbolized by bread, His soul, symbolized i by wine. He washed and wiped, with His own hands, the feet of Judas, those feet which had carried him to the house of Caiaphas — with those hands which, through Judas’ fault, were to be nailed to the cross on the following day. And when, in the red light of the flickering lanterns and the flash¬ ing of swords, Judas, under the dark shadow of the olive trees, came and kissed that face still wet with bloody sweat, I Jesus did not repel him, but said, ‘Triend, wherefore art thou i come?” Friend! It was the last time that Jesus spoke to Judas, and even in that moment He would use none other than that j wonted word. Judas was not for Him the man of darkness j who came in the darkness to turn Him over to the guards, but the friend, the same who a few hours before had been sitting I with Him before the dish of lamb and herbs, and had set his I lips to His cup: the same who, so many times in hours of ^ rest in leafy shade, or in the shadow of walls, had listened ' with the others like a disciple, like a companion, like a friend, [ like a brother, to the great words of the Promise. Jesus had j said at the Last Supper, “Woe unto that man by whom the ; Son of man is betrayed! it had been good for that man if he j had not been born.” But now that the traitor was before I Him, that the treachery was complete, now that Judas had j added to that betrayal the outrage of the kiss laid on the lips i ! of Him who has commanded love for our enemies. He ansv^rered y him with the sweet and divine words of their habitual inter- course, “Friend, wherefore art thou come?” j Thus the testimony of Him who was betrayed increases our [5 bewilderment instead of raising the veil of the dreadful secret. He knew that Judas was a thief and He gave him the purse: 1 He knew that Judas was evil and He confided to him a treasure 286 LIFE OF CHRIST of truth infinitely more precious than all the money in the universe: He knew that Judas was to betray Him and He made him a participant of His divinity, offering him the mouthful of bread and the sip of wine; He saw Judas leading His assail¬ ants upon Him and He still addressed him as at first, as He always had, with the holy name of friend. “It had been good for that man' if he had not been born.” These VN^ords might have been, rather than a condemnation, an exclamation of pity at the thought of a fate which could not be escaped. If Judas hated Jesus, we see no signs that Jesus was ever repelled by Judas, because Jesus knew that the base bargain was necessary, as the weakness of Pilate was necessary, the rage of Caiaphas, the insults of the soldiery, the timbers and nails of the cross. He knew that Judas must needs do what he did and He did not curse him, as He did not curse the people who wished His death, or the hammer which drove the nails into the cross. One prayer alone broke from him, to beg Judas to shorten the dreadful agony, “That thou doest, do quickly.” The mystery of Judas is doubly tied to the mystery of the Redemption and we lesser ones shall never solve it. No analogy can give us light. Joseph also was sold by one of his brothers, who, like Iscariot, was called Judas, and was sold to Ishmaelite merchants for twenty pieces of silver, but Joseph, who prefigured Christ, was not sold to his enemies, was not sold to be put to death: and as a compensation for his betrayal, great good fortune was his and he became so wealthy that he could enrich his father, and so generous that he could pardon even his brothers. Jesus was not only betrayed, but sold, sold for a price, sold for a small price, bought with coins. He was the object of a bargain, a bargain struck and paid. Judas, the man of the purse, the cashier, did not present himself as an accuser, did not offer himself as a cut-throat, but as a merchant doing business in blood. The Jews, who understood bartering for blood, daily cutting the throats of victims, and quartering them, butchers of the Most High, v/ere the first and last cus¬ tomers of Judas. The sale of Jesus was the first business LIFE OF CHRIST 287 done by the merchant, just entering business; not very big business, it must be admitted, but a real, true commercial transaction, a valid contract of buying and selling, verbal, but honestly lived up to by the contracting parties. If Jesus had not been sold, something would have been lacking to the per¬ fect ignominy of His expiation: if He had been sold for more money, for three hundred shekels instead of thirty, for gold instead of silver, the ignominy would have been diminished, slightly, but still diminished. It had been destined to all eter¬ nity that He should be bought, but bought with a small sum. In order that an infinite, supernatural but communicable value should be made available to men, it was needful to buy it with a small sum, and with a sum of metal, which has no real value. Did Jesus bought by others not do the same. He who wished to redeem with the blood of only one man all the blood shed on the earth from the days of Cain to Caiaphas? And if He had been sold as a slave, as so many living souls were sold in those days in the public places, if He had been sold as redeemable property, as human capital, as a living tool for work, the ignominy would have been almost nothing, and the Redemption put off. But He was sold as the calf is sold to the butcher, as the innocent animals which the butcher buys to kill, to sell again, to distribute in morsels to flesh-eaters. The sacred butcher, Caiaphas, never in his most successful days had a victim so prodigious. For more than two thousand years Christians have been fed on that victim, and it is still intact, and those who feed are not satiated. Every one of us has contributed his quota, an infinitesimal quota, to buy that victim from Judas. We have all contributed towards the sum for which the blood of the Redeemer was bought: Caiaphas was only our agent. The field of Aceldama, bought with the price of blood, is our inheritance, our property. And this field has grown mysteriously larger, has spread over half the face of the earth: whole populous cities, paved, lighted, well-ordered cities, of shops and brothels, ishine»resplendent on it from north to south. And that the mystery should be even greater, Judas’ money, also multiplied by the betrayals of so many centuries, by the accumulation of interest, has become 288 LIFE OF CHRIST incalculably great. Nothing is so fruitful and fecund as blood. The statisticians, those soothsayers of modern days, can bear witness to the fact that all the courts of the Temple could not contain the money engendered from that day to this by those thirty pieces of silver cast down there in a delirium of remorse, by the man who sold his God. THE MAN ’WITH THE PITCHER The bargain was struck, the price paid, the buyers were impatient to finish the transaction. They had said ^‘before the Feast day.” The great feast day of the Passover fell on a Saturday and this was Thursday. Jesus had but one more day of freedom, the last day. Before leaving His friends, those who were to abandon Him that night. He wished once more to dip His bread in the same platter with them. Before the Syrian soldiery should have spit upon Him, before He should be defiled by the Jewish filth. He wished to kneel down and wash the feet of those who until the day of their death were to travel all the roads of the earth to tell the story of His death. Before the blood dropped from His hands. His feet. His chest. He wished to give the first fruits to those who were to be one soul with Him until the end. Before suffering thirst, nailed upon the cross. He wished to drink a cup of wine with His companions. This last evening before His death was to be like an anticipation of the banquet of the Kingdom. On the evening of Thursday, the first day of unleavened bread, the Disciples asked Him, “Where wilt thou that we go and prepare that thou mayest eat the passover?” The Son of Man, poorer than the foxes, had no home of His own. He had left His home in Nazareth forever. The home of Simon of Capernaum, which had been in the early days like His own, was far away; and the home of Mary and Martha in Bethany, where He was almost Master, was too far outside the city. He had only enemies in Jerusalem or shame-faced friends: LIFE OF CHRIST 289 _ oseph of Arimathea was to receive Him as his guest only the ext evening, in the dark cave, the banquet-hall of worms. But a condemned man on his last day has a right to any Eivor he may ask. All the houses of Jerusalem were rightfully lis. The Father would give Him the house best suited to . belter His last joy. And He sent two Disciples with this lysterious command, “Go ye into the city, and there shall leet you a man bearing a pitcher of water; follow him. And wheresoever he shall go in, say ye to the good man of the lOUse, the Master saith. My time is at hand; where is the uest chamber, where I shall eat the passover with my dis- iples? And he will show you a large upper room furnished nd prepared: there make ready for us.^’ It has been believed that the master of that house was a riend of Jesus and that they had arranged this beforehand. )Ut that cannot be. Jesus would have sent the two Disciples traight to him, giving his name, and would not have had re- jourse to the following of the man with the pitcher, i There were many men on the morning of that feast day who bust have been coming up from Shiloah with pitchers of water, 'he two Disciples were to follow the first one whom they saw iefore them. They did not know why they were not to stop ^ im instead of going after him to see where he went in. His baster, since he had a servant, certainly was not a poor man, nd in his house, as in all those of prosperous people, there rould certainly be a room suitable for serving a supper, and le would know at least by hearsay who “the Master” was. n those days at Jerusalem there was little talk of anything jlse. The request was one which could not be refused. “The daster saith. My time is at hand.” The time which was His” was the hour of death. No one could shut out from his liouse a man at the point of death, who wished to satisfy his |iunger for the last time. The Disciples set out, found the man kith the pitcher, entered the house, talked with the master, (repared there what was necessary for the supper: lamb cooked |)n the spit, round loaves without leaven, bitter herbs, red auce, the wine of thanksgiving, and warm water. They set 290 LIFE OF CHRIST the couches and pillows about the table and spread over ii the white cloth. On the cloth they set the few dishes, th( candelabra, the pitcher full of wine, and one cup, one cup onlj to which ail were to set their lips. They forgot nothing: boti were experienced in this preparation. From childhood up, ir their home beside the lake, they had watched, wide-eyed, tht preparations for the most heart-warming feast of the year And it was not the first time since they had been with Hiir whom they loved, that they had thus eaten all together of thf feast of the Passover. But for that last day — and perhaps their dull minds had at last understood the dreadful truth thal it was really the last — for this last supper which all the thirteer were to have together, for this Passover which was the Iasi for Jesus and the last valid Passover for old Judaism because a new covenant was about to begin for all -countries and a! nations: for this festal banquet which was a memorial of life and a warning of death, the Disciples performed those humble menial tasks with a new tenderness, with that pensive jo> that almost brings tears. With the setting of the sun, the other ten came with Jesus and placed themselves around the table, now in readiness. All were silent as if heavy-hearted with a presentiment which the)/ were afraid to see reflected in their companions^ eyes. They remembered the supper in Simon’s house, almost funereal the odor of the nard, the woman and her endless weeping, and Christ’s words on that evening, and His words of those last days; the repeated warnings of ignominy and of the end; the signs of hatred increasing about them, and the indications, now very plain, of the conspiracy, which with all its torches was about to come out from the darkness. But two of them — for opposite reasons — were more op¬ pressed, more moved than the others: the two for whom this was the last of their lives, the two who were about to die: Christ and Judas, the one sold and the seller; the Son of God and the abortion of Satan. Judas had finished his bargain, he had the thirty pieces of silver on his person wrapped tightly so that they would not clink. But he knew no peace. The Enemy had entered into I LIFE OF CHRIST 291 |fi him, but perhaps the friend of Christ was not yet dead in his heart. To see Him there in the midst of His friends, calm but : with the pensive expression of the man who is the only one who knows a secret, who is aware of a crime, a betrayal; to see Him, still at liberty in the company of those who loved Him, still alive, all the blood still in His veins under the delicate protection of the skin — and yet those bargainers who had paid the price refused to wait any longer, the affair was arranged for that very night! — and they were only waiting for Judas to act. But suppose Jesus, who must know all, had denounced him to the eleven? And suppose they, to save their Master, had thrown themselves on Judas to bind him, perhaps to kill him? Judas began to feel that to betray Christ to His death was perhaps not enough to save himself from the death, which e so greatly feared and yet which was near upon him. I All these thoughts darkened his somber face, more and more blackly, and at times terrified him. While the more active |)nes busied themselves with the last arrangements for serving the supper, he looked furtively at the eyes of Jesus — clear yes scarcely veiled with the loving sadness of parting — as if jj-to read there the revocation of his fate, so close at hand. Jesus roke the silence: ^‘With desire I have desired to eat this ^assover with you before I suffer: For I say unto you, I will ot any more eat thereof, until it be fulfilled in the kingdom bf God.^’ Such great love had not up to that moment been expressed y any words of Christ to His friends: such a longing for he day of perfect union, for the feast, so ancient and destined o so great a sublimation. They knew that He loved them; but until this evening their poor bruised hearts had not felt bow poignant His love was. He knew that this evening was fhe last respite of rest and cheer before His death, and yet He had desired it ardently as though it were a boon, with that fervor which is the mark of passionate souls, souls on fire, i oving souls, those who battle for the love of victory, who en¬ dure all things for a high prize. He had ardently desired to at this Passover with them. He had eaten others: He had iaten with them thousands of other times, seated in boats, in 292 LIFE OF CHRIST their friends’ houses, in strangers’ houses, in rich men’s houses or seated beside the road, in mountain pastures, in the shadow of bushes on the shore; and yet for so long He had ardently desired to eat with them this supper which was the last! The blue skies of happy Galilee, the soft winds of the spring just passed, the sun of the last Passover, the waving branches o] His triumphant entry, did He think of them now? Now He saw only His first friends and His last friends, the little group destined to be diminished by treachery, and dispersed by cow¬ ardice. Still, for a time they were there about Him in the same room, at the same table, sharing with Him the same' overwhelming grief, but sharing also the light of a super natural certainty. ' Up to that day He had suffered, but not for Himself; He had suffered because of His ardent desire for this nocturnal hour, when the air was already heavy with the tragedy of fare wells. And, when He had thus told them how great was Hi< love, Christ’s face, soon to be buffeted, shone with that noble^ sadness which is so strangely like joy. I THE WASHING OF THE FEET Now that He was on the point of being snatched from thosf' whom He loved. He wished to give them a supreme proof o this love. From the time they had begun to share His life’ He had always loved them, all of them, even Judas: He always loved them with a love surpassing all other affections, a low so bountiful that their narrow hearts could not always coni tain it; but now about to leave them, knowing that He wa^ to be with them again only when transfigured after death, al' His hitherto unexpressed affection overflowed in a great wav' of tender sadness. Before beginning the supper where He was the head o the family, He wished to be kinder than a Father, humble' than a servant. He was their King, and He would humbl Himself to the service performed by slaves: He was thef Master and He would put Himself below the level of Hi disciples; He was the Son of God and He would accept . LIFE OF CHRIST 293 position despised of men : He was the first and He would kneel jbefore His inferiors as if He had been the last. So many times, to rebuke their pride and jealousy, He had told them that the Master must serve his servants, that the Son of Man ^as come to serve, that the first must be last. But His words pad not yet been assimilated by those souls, since even up o the last, they continued to quarrel for priority and prece- ence. For raw, untrained minds, action has more meaning than ords. Jesus prepared Himself to repeat, with the symbolic spect of a humiliating service, one of His most important in- tructions. John tells us, ‘^He riseth from supper, and laid side his garments; and took a towel, and girded himself. (\fter that he poureth water into a bason and began to wash e disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith e was girded.’ Only a mother or a slave would have done what Jesus did at evening. The mother would have done it for her little Children, but for no one else: the slave for his masters, but or no others. The mother would have served joyfully because f her love, the slave would have been resigned through obedi- mce. But the Twelve were neither Christ’s children nor His asters. Son of Man and of God, His love was above that of 11 earthly mothers, — King of a kingdom existing in the future, ut more legitimate than all existing monarchies, He was the nrecognized Master of all masters. And yet He was willing to wash and wipe those twenty-four allous and sweaty feet, in order to engrave on those unwilling earts, still swollen with vanity, the truth which His lips had long vainly pronounced; “And whosoever shall exalt him- If shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall e exalted.” So after He had washed their feet and taken His garments nd was set down again He said unto them, “Know ye what have done to you? Ye call me Master and Lord: and ye ay well; for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, have cashed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another’s feet. jJor I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have 294 LIFE OF CHRIST done to you. Verily, verily I say unto 3^ou, The servant is not greater than his lord; neither is he that is sent greater than he that sent him. If ye know these things, happy are yeji if ye do them.” M Jesus had not only given them a memory of complete humil^f ity, but an example of perfect love. “A new commandment| I give unto you. That ye love one another; as I have loved you A that ye also love one another. Greater love hath no man thari| this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are| my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you.” g! But this action, with its deep meaning hidden under thy appearance of m.enial service, signifies purification as well a^ love. ^‘He that is washed needeth not save to wash his feet^ but is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all.” The eleven, although not of lofty character,- had some right c to this cleansing service from Jesus. For many months those feet had trodden the dusty, muddy, filthy roads of Judea to follow Him who brought life; and after His death, year by year, they were to tread longer and harder roads in countries : the very names of which they then did not know; and foreign li clay would soil the sandaled feet of those who were to go as pilgrims and strangers to repeat the call of the Crucified ! One. i TAKE — EAT These thirteen men had apparently come together to per¬ form the old social rite in memory of the liberation of their people from Egyptian slavery. They seemed to be thirteen devout men of the people, waiting about a white table redolent | of roasted lamb and wine, ‘for the signal to begin an intimate ^ and festal supper. But this was only in appearance. In reality it was a vigil of leave-taking and separation. Two of these thirteen. He into whom God had entered and he into whom Satan had entered, were to die terrible deaths before the next nightfall. The very next day the others were to be dispersed, like reapers at the ^ first downfall of hail. LIFE OF CHRIST 295 I But this supper which was the viaticum of an ending, was ,lso a wonderful beginning. In the midst of these thirteen !ews the observance of the Jewish Passover was about to be ransfigured into something incomparably higher and more ''niversal, into something unequaled and ineffable; into the *reat Christian mystery. The simple eating of bread was to ‘ ecome actual communion with God. I For the Jews, Easter is only the feast in memory of their tight from Egypt. They never forgot their victorious scape from their slavery, accompanied by so many prodigies, ^ a manifestly under God^s protection, although they were to ear on their necks the -yokes of other captivities, and to .ndergo the shame of other deportations. Exodus prescribed |n annual festivity which took the name of the Passover; fasch, the paschal feast. It was a sort of banquet intended o bring to mind the hastily prepared food of the fugitives. 1 lamb or a goat should be roasted over the fire, that is, ooked in the simplest and quickest v/ay; bread without leaven, )ecause there was no time to let yeast rise. And they were |o eat of it with their loins girded, their staves in their hands, iating in haste, like people about to set out upon a journey. [Te bitter herbs were the poor wild grasses snatched up as hey went along by the fugitives, to dull the hunger of their ^terminable wanderings. The red sauce, where the bread Ì7as dipped, was in memory of the bricks which the Jewish laves were obliged to bake for the Pharaohs. The wine was something added: the joy of escape, the hope of the land of ij)romise, the exaltation of thanksgiving to the Eternal. * Jesus changed nothing in the order of this ancient feast, mter the prayer He had them pass from hand to hand the lup of wine, calling on God’s name. Then He gave the bitter 'lerbs to each one and filled a second time the cup which was 0 be passed around the table for each to sip. What taste did that wine have in the mouth of the traitor, vhen Jesus in that deep silence pronounced those words of onging and hope which were not for Judas, but only for those \^ho could ascend to the eternal banquet of the Father: Take his and divide it among yourselves, “but I say unto you I 296 LIFE OF CHRIST will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until tha day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” A sad farewell; but nevertheless the confirming of a solemi promise. Perhaps they felt only the promise, and perhapi there flashed before their poor men’s eyes a vision of the grea Heavenly feast. They did not believe that they would hav( a long time to mourn: after that other vintage-time, afte; the fruit of the vine had fermented, and the sweet wine ha( been poured into the flasks, the Master would return, as Hi had promised, to summon them to the great wedding of Heavei and Earth, to the everlasting banquet. They must hav thought, ‘‘We are men growing old, elderly men, more thai mature, within sight of old age; if the Bridegroom tarries toi long He will not find us among the living, and those who hav believed Him will be mocked at.” Comforted by the certainty of an early and glorious reunion they chanted together, as the custom was, the Psalm of the firs Thanksgiving, a chant of praise to the Father from Him whi served Him. “Tremble, thou earth, at the presence of th Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob; which turned th rock into a standing water, the flint into a fountain of waters — He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the need; out of the dung-hill; that he may set him with princes, evei with the princes of his people.” These old words, colored at that moment with a new mean ing, were sung with a joyful conviction of their truth. They too, the Disciples, were poor men and they would be raisei out of the dust of poverty by the intercession of the Soi of God: they too were poor men and He would soon raisi them out of the misery of their beggary, to make them mas ters of inconsumable wealth. Then Jesus, who saw how insufficiently they understood took the loaves, blessed them, broke them and, as He gavi them each a piece, set the dreadful truth before their eyes “Take, eat; This is my body which is given for you: thi: do in remembrance of me.” So He was not to return as quickly as they thought! Aftei His brief stay during the Resurrection, His second coming wai J LIFE OF CHRIST 297 to be delayed, so long that it might be possible to forget Him and His death. “This do in remembrance of me.” The breaking of bread at the common table among those who await Him shall be the sig¬ nal of a new brotherhood. Every time that you break bread, [j I will not only be present among you, but by that means s you will be intimately united with me. Because, as this bread I is broken in my hands, my body will be broken by my enemies. I As this bread eaten to-night will be your food until to-morrow, my body v/hich I will offer in death to all men shall satisfy the hunger of those who believe in me, until the day when the great granaries of the Kingdom shall be open to all, when you shall be angels in the presence of your Father whom you shall have found again. I will leave you therefore not I merely a memory; I will be present with a mystic but real presence in every particle of bread consecrated to me and this bread shall be a living necessary food for souls, and my ^ promise to be with you shall be fulfilled till time shall be no more. In the meantime, this evening, eat this unleavened bread, this bread made by the hand of man, made of water and grain, these loaves which have felt the heat of the oven and which my hands, not yet cold in death, have divided amongst you — and which my love has changed into my flesh so that it may be your everlasting food. It is sweet to the heart of a friend to see his friends eating bread at his table, bread born of the . earth, bread which was green blades with flowering lilies among them, and then the ripe ear bending down the tall stalk with its golden weight. You know how many efforts, how much ' anxiety, how much trouble, are contained in a piece of bread; 'how the great oxen cultivated the earth, how the countrymen threw great handfuls of the grain into the fallow land in winter, how the first blade softly penetrated the damp darkness of the earth, how the reapers all day long cut down the ripened f stalks, and then the sheaves were bound, and carried to the threshing floor and beaten so that the ears let fall the grain, r The workers must wait for a little wind, neither too gentle ^nor too violent, to winnow out the good grain from the chaff. 1. 298 LIFE OF CHRIST Then they grind it, sift out the bran from it, make a dough with warm water, heat the oven with dry grass or twigs. All this must be done with love and patience before the father may break a piece with his children, the friend with his friends, the host with strangers. Flowers, sowers, reapers, winnowers, millers and bakers sweat in the heat of the sun, in the heat of the oven, before the golden wheat can be transformed into well-baked golden bread for our table. Truly it is sweet to eat good wholesome bread with friends: the soft white crumb, covered with the crisp crust. So man> times with me you have begged bread in poor men’s houses; and all your lives you are to beg it in my name: you will have the moldy hard crusts which dogs refuse, the dry bib left at the bottom of the dish, the crusts gnawed by childrer and old people which they have let fall upon' the hearth. Bui you know want, and nights of fasting and the pale face ol poverty. But you are strong; you have the powerful jaws 0: those who eat hard bread. You will not lose courage, if nc place is made for you at the tables of the well-to-do. But verily it is infinitely sweeter for Him who loves yoi to transform the bread which comes from the hard earth anc from hard labor into the Body which will be eternally offeree for you, into the Body which every day will come down froir Heaven as the visible means of grace. Remember the prayer which I taught you: “Give us thi‘ day our daily bread — ” For to-day and for always youi bread is this bread, my Body. He shall never know hunge who shall eat my Body, which every morning throughout end less centuries shall be changed into endless morsels of transubi stantiated bread. But whosoever shall refuse it, shall b( anhungered to all eternity. i WINE AND BLOOD As soon as they had eaten the lamb with the bread anc the bitter herb, Jesus filled the common cup for the thirc time and gave it to the Apostle nearest Him, “Drink ye all 0 LIFE OF CHRIST 299 it; for this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many.” His blood, mixed with sweat, had not yet fallen on the ground, under the olives, and had not yet dropped from the nails upon Golgotha. But His desire to give life with His life, to redeem with His suffering all the sorrows of the world, to transmit at least a part of His substance to His immediate heirs; this desire to give Himself up wholly for those whom He loves is so great that from this moment on, He feels the immolation complete and the gift possible. If bread is the body, blood is in a certain sense the soul. The Lord said to Noah: “But flesh with the life thereof, which is the blood thereof, shall ye not eat.” With blood as visibly representing life, the God of Abraham and of Jacob had established the covenant with His own people. When Moses had received the law, he had sacrificed oxen, took half of the blood and put it in basins, and half of the blood he sprinkled on the altar: “And Moses took the blood, and sprinkled it on the people, and said. Behold the blood of the covenant which the Lord hath made with you concerning all these words.” But after a trial of many centuries, God had announced by the voice of the prophets that the Old Covenant was oblit¬ erated and abrogated, and that another was henceforth nec¬ essary. The blood of animals sprinkled upon stubborn heads and upon blaspheming faces had lost its virtue; another Blood, purer and more precious, was needed for the New Covenant, for the Last Covenant of the Father with His perjured children. In many ways He had already tried to lead His first-born to¬ wards the narrow door of salvation; the rain of fire on Sodom, the washings of the waters of the flood, the Egyptian slavery, hunger in the desert, had terrified them without reforming them. And now there had come a Liberator at once more divine and more human than the old Captain of Exodus. Moses also saved a people, spoke upon a mountain, announced a promised land. But Jesus saves not only His people, but all peoples; writes His laws not upon stone, but upon human 300 LIFE OF CHRIST hearts; and His promised land is not a country of rich grazing- land and vineyards, with great clusters of grapes, but a King¬ dom of holiness and eternal joy. Moses had killed a man, and Jesus brought the dead to life; Moses changed water into blood and Jesus, after having changed water into wine at the wedding banquet, changed wine into blood, into His own blood, at the melancholy last supper of His marriage with death. Moses died full of years and honors on a solitary mountain top, glorified by his people; and Jesus was to die among the insults of those whom He loved. The blood of oxen, the impure blood of earthly animals, involuntary and inferior victims, is no longer sufficient. The New Covenant was established that night with the words of , Christ, who under the appearance of wine shed His own blood and His own soul: ‘This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you.’’ It was shed not merely for the Twelve who were there; they represent in His eyes all of humanity alive at that time ' and all those to be born thereafter. The blood which was to ► be shed the next day, on Golgotha, was real blood, actual, warm blood congealing on the cross in clots which all the tears shed by Christians can never wash away. But the blood of the i Last Supper symbolizes a soul which gave itself up to make ' over into His own likeness, the souls shut up in the bodies ; of men: which was given to those who asked for it and to ^ those who fled away from it, which had suffered for the sake of those who had received it and for those who had blasphemed ^ it. This baptism of blood which came after the baptism of I water by John, after the baptism of tears by the women of Bethany, after the baptism of spitting by the Jews and by lì the Romans, this baptism of blood, red as the baptism of fire announced by the prophet of fire, and mixed with the £ tears shed by women over His blood-stained body, this^' is the greatest sacrament, revealed to His betrayers, by Him who was betrayed. I have broken bread for you, daily bread for which you) pray every day to the Father, as my body will be broken to-morrow, and I offer you now my blood in this wine which LIFE OF CHRIST 301 I drink for the last time on earth. If you always do this in memory of me, you will feel no hunger, no thirst. There is no food better than wheat-bread, and no drink better than wine, but the bread and wine which I have given you to-night will feed you and quench your thirst for all your lives, by virtue of my sacrifice and of that love which makes me seek for death and which reigns beyond death. Ulysses advised Achilles to give the Achaians, before they went into battle, ^^bread and wine that they should have strength and courage.’’ For the Greek the strength of his members came from bread and homicidal courage from wine. Wine was to intoxicate men so that they should destroy each other and bread was to strengthen their arms so that they could battle without weakness. The bread given by Christ does not strengthen the flesh, but the soul, and His wine gives that divine intoxication which is Love, that Love which the Apostle, scandalizing the descendants of Ulysses, was to I call in his Epistle to the Corinthians, “the foolishness of God.” I Judas also ate that bread and swallowed that wine, partook i of that body, in which he had trafficked, drank that blood I which he was to help shed, but he had not the courage to ; confess his infamy, to throw himself down weeping at the feet ! of Him who would have wept with him. Then the only * friend remaining to Judas warned him, “Verily I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me.” I The eleven were capable of leaving Him alone in the midst I of Caiaphas’ guards, but they never could have brought them- I selves to sell Him for money, and at this they shuddered. I Every one looked in his neighbor’s face, almost dreading to I see in his companion the livid look of guilt, and all, one after I the other, said, “Lord, is it I?” I Even Judas, hiding his increasing confusion under the ap- 1 pearance of offended astonishment, was able to force his voice I to say, “Lord, is it I?” But Jesus, who the next day would || not defend Himself, would not even bring an accusation and |{ only repeated the sad prophecy in more definite words, “He I that dippeth his hand with me in the dish, the same shall I betray me.” And while they all still gazed at Him in painful ■ 1 303 LIFE OF CHRIST doubt, for the third time He insisted, . . . ^‘The hand of him that betrayeth me is with me on the table.” He added no more, but to follow the old customs up to the last. He filled the cup for the fourth time and gave it to them to drink. And once more the thirteen voices rang out in the old hymn, the ^^great hallel” which ended the liturgy of the Passover. Jesus repeated the vigorous words of the Psalmist which were like a prophetic funeral oration for Him, pronounced before His death. “The Lord is on my side; I will not fear; what can man do unto me? . . . They compassed me about like bees: they are quenched as the fire of thorns. ... I shall not die, but live. . . . The Lord hath chastened me sore: but he hath not given me over unto death. Open to me the gates of righteousness: I will go into them, and I will praise the Lord: . . . The stone which the builders refused is become the head¬ stone of the corner. . . . Bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar.” The victim was ready and the next day the inhabitants of Jerusalem were to see a new altar of wood and iron. But perhaps the Disciples, sleepy and confused, did not under¬ stand the new meaning both melancholy and triumphant of the old canticles. When the hymn was ended they left the room and the house, at once. As soon as they had emerged from the house Judas disappeared into the night. The remaining eleven silently followed Jesus, who, as was His wont, made His way to the Mount of Olives. ABBA FATHER On the Mount there was a garden, and a place where olives were crushed, which gave it its name, Gethsemane. Jesus and His friends had been spending the nights there, either to avoid the odors and noise of the great city, distasteful to them, country-bred as they were, or because they were afraid of being treacherously captured in the midst of their enemies^ houses. LIFE OF CHRIST 303 r? Ì And when He was at the place, He said to His disciples, ^‘Sit ye here while I go and pray yonder.” But He was so heavy-hearted that He dreaded being alone. He took with Him the three whom He loved the best, Simon Peter, James and John. And when they had gone a little way from the others. He began to be sorrowful and very heavy. “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death; tarry ye here, and watch with me.” If they answered Him no one knows what they said. But we know that they did not comfort Him with the words which come from the heart when it shares the suffering of a loved one, for He withdrew Himself from them alone, and went further on, to pray. He fell on the ground on His face and prayed, saying, “Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” He was alone now, alone in the night, alone in the midst of men, alone before God, and He could show His weakness without shame. After all, he was a Man, too, a man of flesh and blood, a living, breathing man, who knew that His de¬ struction was at hand, that His body would be destroyed, that His flesh would be pierced, that His blood w^ould be poured out on the ground. This was the second temptation. After the defeat of Satan in the desert, the Evangelist says: “he departed from him for a season.” He had left Him till this moment Now He was in a new desert, terribly alone in the darkness, more alone than in the desert where the wild beasts served Him. Cloaked and learned wild beasts were at hand now, but only to tear Him to pieces. In that terrible nocturnal desert, Satan returned to tempt his enemy; at first he had promised Christ, kingdoms, victories, and prodigies, he had tried to draw Him by the bait of power. Now, on the contrary, he counted on His weakness. At the beginning of His life, Christ burning with confident love had not fallen into his trap, but Christ near His end, abandoned by those nearest to Him, encompassed by His enemies, might be conquered by fear, even though He had risen above cupidity. The prayer to the Father was at 304 LIFE OF CHRIST J the instigation of Satan, was a beginning of cowardice. Jesus knew He must die, that His death was necessary, that He had come to give life by His death, to confirm by His death that greater life which He announced. He had made no effort to avoid death. He had been willing to die for His friends, for all men, for those who did not know Him, for those who hated Him, for those not yet born. He had predicted His death to His friends, had already given them the rewards of His death, the bread of His body, the blood of His soul; and He had no right to ask the Father that the cup might pass from His lips or that His death might be delayed. He had written His words on the dust of the public place, and the wind had quickly obliterated them. He had written them on the hearts of a few men, but He knew how easily effaced are words written on the hearts of men. If His truth were to remain forever on the earth so that no one could ever forget it He must write it with His blood. Only with the blood in our veins can truth be written peruianently on the pages of earth so that it will not fade under men’s footsteps or under the rainfall of centuries. The Cross is the rigorously necessary . consequence of the Sermon on the Mount. He who brings love is given over to hatred^ and He can only conquer hatred by accepting condemnation. Everything must be paid for, the good at a higher price than evil; and the greatest good, which is love, must be paid for by the greatest evil in men’s power, assassination. But all that faith and revelation tell us of His divinity rises up against the idea that He can ever have been subjected toi| temptation. If the torture and the end of His body had really^’ terrified Him, was there not yet time to save Himself? For many days He had known that they were trying to take Him captive, and even on that night there were ways of escaping the pack of hounds ready to fall upon Him. He would have; been safe if, either alone or with His most faithful friends, t tie had taken the road back to the Jordan, and thence by|; hidden paths have passed across Perea into the Tetrarchy of|| Philip, where He had already taken refuge to escape the ill^v will of Antipas. The Jewish police were so few and primitive I .y'v LIFE OF CHRIST 305 that they could scarcely have found Him. The fact that He did not do this, did not flee, shows that He did not try to escape death and the horrors that were to accompany it. From the point of view of our coarse human logic His death was a suicide — a divine suicide by the hand of others, not unlike that of the heroes of antiquity who fell upon the sword of a friend or a slave. What sort of a life would He have had after such a flight? To grow old obscurely, the timorous mas* ter of a hidden sect, to die at the last, worn out, the death- rattle in His throat like any other man! Better, infinitely better to finish the sowing of the Gospel on the Cross and to water it with His blood. He had spoken out His truths and now, that those truths should be everlastingly remembered He must needs link with them the horror of His unforgettable death. Perhaps this blood, like a stinging drink, would arouse His disciples forever. But if the cup that Jesus wished to pass from Him was not fear of death, what else could it have been? Betrayal by him whom He had chosen and loved, by the disciple whose hunger He had fed that very evening with His body, whose thirst He had quenched with His soul? Or the denial close at hand of the other disciple in whom after his cry at Caesarea He had the greatest hope? Or the desertion of all the others who would flee like scattered lambs when the wolf sets his fangs into their mother’s body? Or was it grief for that greater denial, the refusal of His own people, the Jews, of the people from whom He was born and who now despised Flim like one born out of His time, and suppressed Him like a child of shame, and did not know that the blood of Him who came to save them would never be wiped from their foreheads? Perhaps in the darkness of this last vigil He had a glimpse of the fate which would befall His children later on, the bewilderment of the first saints, the dissensions between them, the desertions, the martyrdoms, the massacres, and after the hour of triumph the weakness of those who should have guided the multitude, the irrepressible schisms, the dismemberment of the Church, the wild dreaming of heretical pride, the growth of innumerable sects^ the confusion of false prophets, the bold- 3o6 LIFE OF CHRIST ness of rebellious reformers, the simony and dissoluteness of > those who deny Him in their actions while glorifying Him in word and gesture: the persecutions of Christians by Christians, the neglect of the lukewarm and the arrogant, the dominion of new Pharisees and new Scribes, distorting and betraying His teachings, the misunderstanding of His words, when they fall into the hands of the hair-splitters, weighers of the immaterial, separators of the inseparable, who, with learned vanity, evis¬ cerate and cut to pieces the living things they pretend to bring to life. The cup that Jesus wished to pass from Him might there¬ fore have been not at all any wrong done to Him, but wrongs committed by others, those alive then and close to Him, or those not yet born and far-distant. What He was asking from His Father might have been not His own safety from death, i but safety from the evils, which, then and later, were to over¬ whelm those who claim to believe in Him. The origin of His sadness would have been thus not fear for Himself, but love for others. But no one will ever know the true meaning of the words cried out by the Son to the Father, in the black loneliness of the Olives. A great French Christian called the story of this i night the ‘^Mystery of Jesus.” The ‘‘Mystery of Judas” is the only human mystery in the Gospels; the prayer of Geth- semane is the most inscrutable, divine mystery of the story of Christ. BLOOD AND SWEAT And when He had prayed. He turned back to find the Dis¬ ciples, who were perhaps waiting for Him to return. But the i three had gone to sleep. Crouching on the ground, wrapped j as best they could in their cloaks, Peter, James and John, the 1 faithful, the specially chosen, had allowed themselves to be i overcome with sleep. The obscure apprehensions, the repeated ). agitations of those last few days, the oppressive melancholy ( of the Supper, accompanied by words so grave, by presenti¬ ments so sad, had plunged them into that prostration which i LIFE OF CHRIST 307 I is more like torpor than sleep. The voice of the Master — ^who of us has the spiritual acuteness to realize that the accent of that voice in the sinister black silence is speaking also to our own hearts now? — called them: ^What, could ye not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak.” Did they hear these words in their sleep? Did they answer, shamefaced, putting their hands to their confused eyes which could not bear even the dim light of the night? What could they answer, startled, only half awake, to the Sleepless One who was to sleep no more? Jesus went away again, more heavy-hearted than ever. Was the temptation against which He had put them on guard in them alone or also in Him? Was it the temptation to escape? To deny Himself as others were to deny Him? To oppose violence to violence? To pay with the lives of others for His own life, or to beg once more with a more despairing supplication that the peril might be averted from His head? Jesus was once more alone, more alone than ever, in a solitude complete as infinite desolation. Until that hour He might have thought that there, close at hand. His loved friends were keeping vigil with Him. Now they had reached the limit of their endurance and had deserted Him spiritually before deserting Him bodily. They had left Him alone; they were not men enough to grant Him the last favor which He asked, they who had re¬ ceived so many. In return for His blood, and His soul, for all His promises, for all His love. He had asked one thing only, that they should not fall asleep. And this small favor had not been granted Him. And yet He was suffering and struggling at that moment for the sake of those who slept. He who gave all was to receive nothing. During that night of refusals His every prayer was denied; both His Father and His fellow-men refused Him. Satan also had disappeared into the darkness which is his own kingdom, and Christ was alone, utterly alone, alone as men are alone who raise themselves above other men, who suf¬ fer in the darkness to bring light to all. Every hero is always 3o8 LIFE OF CHRIST sell ear the only one awake in a world of sleepers, like the pilot watch- (or ing over his ship in the solitude of the ocean and of the night while his companions rest. Jesus was the most solitary of all these eternally solitarj|eg souls. Everything slept about Him. The city slept, its white k shadow-checkered mass sprawling beyond the Kedron; and in . 1 all the houses, in all the cities in the world, the blind race oik ephemeral men were sleeping. The only ones awake at that ima hour were perhaps some woman waiting for the call of her è lover; perhaps a thief in ambush in the dark, his hand on the! ( hilt of his knife; perhaps a philosopher pondering the prob-àa xar lem, ^^Does God exist?’’ But the leaders of the Jews and their guards were not asleep ma that night. Those who should have defended Jesus, who might fTli at least have consoled Him, those who claimed to love Him js and v;ho in their way at times did really love Him, were la. i stretched in sleep. But those who hated Him, who wished to jt; kill Him, did not sleep. Caiaphas was not asleep and the only Disciple awake at that moment was Judas. Until the arrival of Judas His Master was alone with His I death-like sadness. That Fie might feel less alone He began I to pray to His Father, and once more those imploring words I rushed to His lips. The effort to keep them back, the conflict |e which convulsed His whole being— because the divinity which li w^as in Him accepted joyfully what it had willed, while the ruddy clay which clothed it shuddered— this human and super- 1] human effort brought to Him at last the victory. He was * racked with suffering, but He was triumphant; lie was utterly ,|r spent, but He had conquered. • fo The spirit had once more overcome the flesh; but from i[ now on His body was merely a trunk which bled and died, fi The tension of the terrible struggle had done so great a violence !! to all that v/as earthly in Him that the sweat stood out on i Him, as though He had achieved an impossible task, had en- It dured the unendurable. The sweat poured from all His per- li son; but not merely the natural sweat which runs down the i face of the man walking in the sun, or working in the fields or It raving in fever. The blood which He had promised to shed i LIFE OF CHRIST 309 lor men was shed first on the grass of the garden of Geth- lemane. Great drops of blood mixed with sweat fell on the ?arth as a first offering of His conquered flesh. It was the beginning of liberation, almost a relief to that humanity which ^as the greatest burden of His expiation. Then from His lips wet with tears, wet with sweat, wet dth blood, arose a new prayer: my Father, if this cup lay not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be one. Not my will, but thine, be done.” Gone now was any trace of cowardly shrinking; the will, lat is the individual, abdicated in the obedience which alone an assure the freedom of the universal. He is no longer a lan, but Man; the Man one with God, wish that which Tou wisheth.” From that moment His victory over death > assured, because he who gives himself v^rholly to the Eter- al cannot die. ^Tor whosoever will save his life shall lose :: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.” He stood up calmed, and turned back towards His Disciples, lis sad reproof had been vain; worn out and exhausted, the iree were again sleeping. But this time Jesus did not call lem. He had found a consolation greater than any which ley could give Him — and He kneeled down once more to re¬ eat to the Father those great words of abnegation, ‘^Not my ill, but thine, be done.” God was no longer to be asked to be the servant of man. p to that time men had asked Him to satisfy their particular ishes in exchange for canticles and offerings. I wish for rosperity, said the man who prayed, for safety, for strength, )r flowering fields, for the ruin of my enemies. But now Ihrist, the Over-turner, has come to transpose the common rayer, ^‘Not what is pleasing to me, but what is pleasing to 'hee. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.” Blessed- ess can only come as a result of perfect harmony between le sovereign will of the Father and the subordinate will of lan, as a result of the convergence and identity of those two dlls. What if the will of God give me into the hands of the )rturers and fastens me like an evil and malignant beast upon wo crossed beams of wood? If I believe in the Father as a