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DIVINITY SCHOOL
TROWBRIDGE LIBRARY

THE TWO ST. JOHNS

OF

THE NEW TESTAMENT.

BY

JAMES STALKER, D. D.,
AUTHOR OF " IMAGO CHRIST1," " THE LIFE OF ST. PAUL," ETC.

"IN DEVOTIONAL PICTURES WE OFTEN
SEE ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST AND
ST, JOHN THE BAPTIST STANDING
TOGETHER, ONE ON EACH SIDE OF
CHRIST."

AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,
10 EAST 23d STREET, NEW YORK,

FT<*3

COPYRIGHT, 1895,
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.

Contents,

— ? —
ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE.
The Disciple Whom Jesus Loved  page q
His First Meeting with Christ  23
St. John at Home  37
St. John the Apostle  5I
St. John Oneof Three  65
" St. John's Besetting Sin  79
The Disciple Who Loved Jesus  95
St. John and the Resurrection  109
St. John at Home Again  123
St. John in the Pentecostal Age  141
St. John in Patmos  155
The Writings of St. John  169
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
I. Birth and Upbringing  189
II. The Prophet  -  202
III. The Baptism of Jesus  213
IV. His Testimony to Christ  224
V. The Eclipse of his Faith  236
VI. His Eulogy  247
VII. His Martyrdom  259

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE.

THE
DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

i.
The aureole round the head of St. John is that he
was " the disciple whom Jesus loved." This statement
about him is made several times ; and in different
places both the Greek words for "loved" are em
ployed — both the colder, which expresses esteem, and
the more heartfelt, which denotes feeling more ten
der. As among the patriarchs Abraham was "the
friend of God," and among the kings David was "the
man after God's own heart," and among the prophets
Daniel was the " man greatly beloved," so among the
followers of the Son of God, during his earthly minis
try, St. John was the foremost friend.
We cannot help asking to what he owed this prom
inence. Perhaps something was due to an extremely natural
cause : it would appear that St. John was, according to
the flesh, a cousin of Jesus. The way in which this is
made out is as follows: In describing the crucifixion St.
Matthew mentions three holy women as witnesses of the
tragic scene — Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of

IO THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's children ;
St. Mark also mentions three— Mary Magdalene, Mary
the mother of James the Less and Joses, and Salome.
In St. John four names occur ; the first place is given
to the Virgin Mary; but the other three are Mary
Magdalene, Mary the wife of Cleophas (whom we know
from other passages as the father of James and Joses),
and Christ's mother's sister. Thus, leaving the Virgin
aside, we find two places in each of the three lists
occupied by the- same two women ; but she who occu
pies the remaining place fs called by St. Matthew the
mother of Zebedee's children, by St. Mark Salome,
and by St. John the sister of the mother of Jesus. It is
inferred that she who is designated in these three ways
is the same person : her own name was Salome ; she
was the wife of Zebedee ; and she was the sister of the
mother of Jesus. If this inference be correct, of course
it follows that she was the aunt of Jesus, and that her
son John and Jesus were full cousins.
Such a relationship would not have necessarily
made Jesus and John friends in the sense indicated by
calling John the disciple whom Jesus loved. It might
have had precisely the opposite effect. Mary's own
sons, the brothers of Jesus, were not, during his life
time, believers ; and there can be little doubt that their
very familiarity with him was an obstacle to faith.
They could not believe that one to whom they were so
closely related was so much greater than themselves.
They had seen him so long engaged in the little de
tails of rural existence that it was an offence to their
minds when, rising from their narrow lot, he made

THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED. II
known his great aims and claims. Not till he appeared
to one of them alive after his passion was their unbelief
overcome. John might have been affected in the same
way by his kinship with Jesus. But, when he escaped
this temptation, the natural relationship may have be
come a bond even within the realm of grace. It was
as his Saviour that John loved Jesus ; but this may not
have prevented him from feeling a peculiarly cordial
interest in the affairs of Christ because he was his
cousin ; and while Christ loved John from the height
of his divinity, this may not have prevented him from
being drawn to him, and made familiar and confiden
tial, by the operation of the tie of nature.
Cousinship has in multitudes of cases given rise to
delightful and helpful associations. There is, indeed, a
form of philosophy which scoffs at the obligations cre
ated by such relationships. The other day a prominent
and educated Socialist asked in public why he should
have more to do with his own brother, if he bored
him, than with any other man, if he was a good fellow.
But nature is not thus to be turned out of doors ; hu
man nature, also, is wiser; and Christianity, while not
deifying natural relationships, as some religions have
done, honors and hallows them. Never were all the
beautiful and useful possibilities of cousinship so dem
onstrated as when Jesus admitted John to the position
of the disciple whom he loved.

12 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

II.

Although the influence of a natural relationship
may have entered into the Saviour's predilection for
this disciple, this circumstance could have had no
weight at all unless there had been in St. John qualities
to support the claim of kinship. But he was one
formed by nature to be loved.
If his mother really was the sister of Mary, this
points to hereditary advantages enjoyed by St. John.
Without having any sympathy with such a doctrine
as the Immaculate Conception, we cannot help believ
ing that she who was chosen from among all the
daughters of Eve to be the mother of the Perfect
Man was, both in mind and body, a rare specimen
of womanhood — pure, gentle and gracious. Although
her estate was lowly, the blood of kings was in her
veins, and in her mind and manners there worked
the subtle influence of long descent. Now, what Mary
was, it is natural to suppose her sister also was in her
own degree ; and she was able to impart hereditary
advantages to her son.
Certainly there are some of the children ol men
who appear to be formed of finer clay than their neigh
bors and cast in a gentler mould. Not infrequently
their superiority is stamped even on the outward man,
their faces carrying a certificate of excellence which
predisposes all who see them in their favor. They are
marked out for love ; and, if they bear their honors

THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED. 1 3
meekly, and if the inward disposition corresponds with
the outward promise, they do not as a rule miss the
enviable destiny for which nature has intended them.
The religious painters of all ages, with whom St. John
has always been a favorite subject, have been unani
mous in representing him as one of this type. Mrs.
Jameson, in her "Sacred and Legendary Art," says,
" St. John, in Western art, is always young or in the
prime of life, with little or no beard, with flowing or
curling hair, generally of a pale brown or golden hue,
to express the delicacy of his nature, and in his coun
tenance an expression of dignity and candor.'' How
far in detail the actual St. John may have answered
to this description it is of course impossible to say,
but there can be but little doubt that the underlying
idea is correct.
His must have been a fine and a gifted nature. He
was especially strong in the region of the affections —
profoundly loving and sympathetic ; the heart of Jesus
could not have gone out so cordially to him unless it
had met with a corresponding return. Yet it is a
mistake to think of John's nature as a mere pulp of
softness and toleration. There are clear indications,
both in the incidents of his life and in his writings, that
there burned in him great moral intensity, and that
he was capable of strong moral indignation. To speak
in the language of philosophy, he was not of the lethar
gic temperament, but of the melancholic. This is the
temperament which beneath an outward demeanor some
what resembling lethargy conceals the surest and swift
est insight; it keeps silence and broods, but its fire

14 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
is only suppressed ; it is the temperament which the
ancients attributed to their greatest men — to a Sopho
cles and a Plato, to the philosopher, the poet, the
genius. St. John's writings are before us to show what he
was as a thinker, and they thoroughly bear out this
estimate. No doubt they are inspired, and the glory
in them is due to the Spirit of God ; but inspiration
did not overlook or override the individuality of the
human agents whom it employed, but made use of it,
allowing them to speak with their own accent and to
think in accordance with the peculiarities of their
minds. Now of all the New Testament writers St.
John is the most peculiar. He cannot make a remark,
or describe a scene, or report a conversation or a
speech, without doing it as no one else could. His
peculiarity has been described by calling him a mystic :
he does not deal much with the outsides of things,
but lays hold of everything from within. A scene or
occurrence is only interesting to him on account of the
idea which it embodies. His thinking is intuitive : he
does not reason like St. Paul, or exhort like St. Peter,
but concentrates his vision on the object, which opens
to his steady gaze. His ideas are not chains of argu
ment, united link to link, but like stars shining out
from a background of darkness. He often appears to
speak with the simplicity of a child, but under the
simple form are concealed thoughts which wander
through eternity. Although the materials for writing
the life of St. John are meagre, yet no other figure of
the New Testament — not even St. Paul or St. Peter —

THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED. 1 5
makes such a distinct impression on the mind of every
reader. This is due to his marvellous originality ;
and it is easy to conceive what a satisfaction it must
have been to Christ to have in the circle of his fol
lowers one in whom the profundities of his doctrine
and the finer shades of his sentiments were sure of
sympathetic appreciation.

16 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

III.
In spite of these natural advantages and graces,
it is true in the fullest sense that St. John was made
by Christ. That which the Saviour loved in him was
' produced by Himself; and here we come upon the
deepest reason of the attachment between them. Per
haps no one whom Jesus ever met so much resembled
him in natural configuration ; but Jesus brought out
all that was best in John, and repressed or destroy
ed what was evil. He imparted himself to his dis
ciple, who did not thereby become less himself, but
grew to be what he could never have been without
this influence. The loving nature of the disciple found
in Christ an excellence on which it could lavish all
its affection. In the sayings of Christ his mind ob
tained truths on which it could brood for ever, findings
beneath every depth a deeper still. The supreme
characteristic of St. John's thinking is that Christ him
self is its centre and circumference. Face to face
he was gazing on the person of Christ, and, while this
steady, unaverted look revealed the Saviour, it at the
same time transfigured himself.
Remarkable as were John's natural powers, there
is no reason to believe that, apart from Christ, he
would ever have burst through the obscurity in which
the life of a Galilean fisherman was enveloped, or have
become an influence in the world. But for the redeem
ing power of Christ his fine qualities might even have

THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED. \J
been wasted on sinful excesses, as the powers of genius
and the wealth of sympathetic natures have often been.
But the Saviour not only developed and sanctified
John's character, but made him a power for good : he
set him on one of the thrones from which the most
regal spirits rule the destinies of the race.
It was not, indeed, vouchsafed to St. John to take
such a part as St. Peter in the founding of the church.
In the Pentecostal days, when the two were associated,
St. Peter was always foremost both in speech and
action, St. John taking a secondary and subordinate
place. Still less had he the world-conquering instincts
and the organizing genius of St. Paul. He had his
own share, indeed, in the blessed work of spreading
the gospel and founding the church. There is a legend
of his later life, not without a considerable air of verisi
militude, which illustrates his evangelistic zeal. Preach
ing in a certain town near Ephesus he was particularly
struck with a young man among his auditors, and,
at his departure, specially recommended him to the
bishop of the place, who took him home and educated
him until he was fit for baptism. But the youth fell
into evil courses, renounced his profession, and at last
went so far as to become the captain of a band of rob
bers. Subsequently visiting the same town, St. John
approached the bishop and asked, "Where is the
pledge entrusted to you by Christ and me ?" At first
the bishop did not understand, but when he remem
bered he replied, " He is dead — dead to God," and
told the sad story of backsliding. Immediately pro
curing a horse, the apostle set off for the robber's
3

1 8 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
stronghold. He was captured by one of the band and
brought before the captain, who, recognizing who his
prisoner was, attempted to flee. But the apostle de
tained him by entreaties, reasoned with him, prayed
with him, and never rested till the prodigal returned
to the bosom of the church, a pattern of penitence.
Of such scenes there may have been many in St.
John's career, but, on the whole, while others were
converting the world he was a force in reserve. Yet
there slumbered in him the possibility and the inten
tion of a priceless service; and he brought it to per
fection when, in his gospel, he gave to mankind the
final and incomparable portrait of the Son of God.
There are many services. There is that which
can be rendered immediately, and there is that which
must ripen first for a lifetime. The ardent young dis
ciple, intent on the undertakings of the hour, may
hardly believe at all in the Christianity of the thinker,
whose slowly matured thoughts will be fertilizing the
church for hundreds of years after his zealous critic is
forgotten. But the church has need of those who toil
in the depths as well as of those who busy themselves
on the surface. She needs her Dantes and Miltons as
well as her Whitefields and Wesleys ; her Augustines
and Pascals as well as her Columbuses and Living
stones; she requires not only the fiery energy of St.
Peter and the mighty argumentation of St. Paul, but
the exquisite feeling and the mystic depth of St. John.

THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED. 19

IV.
It was a special mark of the Lord's affection for
St. John that he suffered him to live to a great age.
This he indicated himself, when he said to St. Peter,
"If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to
thee ?" At the beginning St. John appears to have
been the youngest of the apostolic circle, but at the
close of life he survived all the rest. The age at
which he died is variously given by tradition from '
ninety up to a hundred and twenty years.
The grace of this divine appointment is apparent
when we recollect that it was in extreme old age that
his Gospel was composed ; and the same is probably
true of his Epistles. These writings were fruit from an
old tree ; but the tree was not losing its sap ; on the
contrary, the fruit was only then fully ripe ; and if the
tree had been cut down earlier its fruit would never
have been gathered.
Besides, the disposition and character of St. John
were of a type which shows to great advantage in old
age. There are natures to which the gay poet's words
apply, " That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer ;
But, being spent, the worse and worst
Times still succeed the former."
There are even types of religious character of which
this is true : it is best to see them when their zeal is

20 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
new and their speculation fresh: afterwards they ap
pear exhausted, or they harden into dogmatism and
censoriousness. But St. John's religion was of the
type described by a poet of a different order :
" And in old age, when others fade,
Their fruit still forth shall bring,
They shall be fat and full of sap,
And aye be nourishing."
His later life is surrounded with a halo of legends,
which unite in conveying the impression that his old
age was exquisitely beautiful. Thus, it is told that he
used to keep a tame partridge ; and one day a noble
huntsman, coming upon him as he was fondling it, ex
pressed surprise that a man of such renown and un-
worldliness should be so trivially engaged. But the
saint answered him, " Why is it that you do not carry
the bow in your hand always bent ?" And when the
huntsman answered, " Because then it would lose its
elasticity." " So," rejoined the saint, " do I relax my
mind with what appears to you a trivial amusement,
that it may have more spring and freshness when I
apply it to divine mysteries." Everyone knows the
legend of how, when too old and weak to walk, he
used to be carried into the Christian assembly and,
when seated in the teacher's chair, to utter only the
words, " Little children, love one another ;" and how,
when they asked him why he always repeated this
precept, he said, " Because, if you have learned to love,
you need nothing more." A legend also obtained cur
rency, that, being of priestly descent, he wore on his
brow in old age the petalon of the high priest, that is,

THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED. 21
the golden plate, fastened on a blue band, with the
inscription, " Holiness to the Lord." But obviously
this is only a mythical expression for the impression
produced by the priestlike dignity and the beauty
of holiness with which his old age was encompassed.
Indeed, the fragrance of love, truth and sanctity
which breathed from this life in its later stages lin
gered in the atmosphere of the early Church for gen
erations. Some have regarded this late development of St.
John's influence as a prophecy. St. Peter first stamped
himself on the Church, then St. Paul, last St. John.
And, as it was in that first period of Christianity, so
was it to be in the subsequent ages. For fourteen cen
turies St. Peter ruled Christendom, as was symbolized
by the church inscribed with his name in the city
which was, for most of that period, the centre of the
Christian world; then, at the Reformation, St. Paul's.
' influence~took the place of St. Peter's, St. Paul's doc
trines being the soul of Protestantism. But the turn of
St. John has still to -come: his spirit will dominate the
millennial age. Perhaps in the individual Christian
three such stages may also be distinguished — the
period of zeal to begin with, when we resemble St.
Peter ; the period of steady work and reasoned con
viction, when we follow in the steps of St. Paul ; • the
period of tolerance and love, when we are acquiring
the spirit of St. John. But we will not defer to any
distant stage of life the imitation of the apostle of love.
" Now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three ; but
the greatest of these is charity." " Love is the fulfill-

22 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
ing of the law ;" and it is the fulfilment of life ; it is
both the perfection and the blessedness of humanity.
But where shall it be found? what is its secret? St.
John, who knew, has told us : it springs from faith in
him who is love, and in the work which love led him
to do on our behalf: " We love him, because he first
loved us."

HIS FIRST MEETING WITH CHRIST. 23

HIS FIRST MEETING WITH CHRIST.

v.
Contact with Christ was not the beginning of the
religious experience of St. John. He had been caught
in another religious movement before he was connected
with that of which Christ was the centre. He was a
disciple of the Baptist before becoming a disciple of
Christ. At the close of many barren generations, during
which prophecy had been dumb and spiritual death
had brooded over the land, suddenly, in the valley of
the Jordan, a voice was raised in which the authentic
thunder of inspiration was clearly discernible : and sim
ultaneously the Wind of God began to move and mur
mur in every part ol the land. Noteworthy it is how
any voice or movement in which the Divine actually
announces itself stirs the sleeping instincts of humanity ;
for man is made for God, and, however dead his reli-
gious nature may appear to be, it is only slumbering :
let the right summons be heard and it will respond.
The rumor of the Baptist's preaching quickly spread
from Dan to Beersheba; and in susceptible souls it
awakened curiosity and longing. It drew the shepherd
from the hill, the husbandman from the vineyard, the
fisherman from his boats, and even the rabbi from his
books. Its influence was especially potent over young

24 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
men ; and in the crowds which soon thronged the banks
of the river where John baptized were the brightest
and most promising spirits of the nation.
Among these was St. John, attracted southward
from his occupation on the Sea of Galilee. And he
was not only one of the Baptist's hearers but one of
his disciples. The first time we see him he is closely-
attached to the Baptist's person : " John stood, and
two of his disciples," one of whom was Andrew and the
other John. This shows that the movement had had
free course in his spirit : he had taken in the Baptist's
message, submitted to the baptismal rite, and, instead
of at once returning home, remained to profit by his
instruction. Two things this experience must have done for
the future apostle. The Baptist's preaching consisted
of two principal parts : first, the message of repentance,
and, secotfdly, the announcement that the kingdom of
,God was at hand.
St. John, then, had repented. The sense of guilt
had been awakened in him, and he had felt the pain
and shame of being self - condemned and God-con
demned. What the particular sins may have been
which had marred his early life and now rose up to
trouble his conscience we cannot tell. It is easy to
conceive the profanity and recklessness on which St.
Peter, in the same circumstances, had to look back ;
but one would suppose that the boyhood and youth
of St. John had been singularly free from anything
gross or regrettable. Tjie sense of sin is not, how
ever, proportionate to the magnitude of guilt. While

HIS FIRST MEETING., WITH CHRIST. 2$
the worst sinners are often utterly insensible to their
own spiritual deformity, the whitest souls a; e sensitively
aware of their own shortcomings. There is no human
life, either in youth or age, so perfect but that, when
enlightened by the Spirit of God, it will see itself to be
altogether as an unclean thing.
This experience^exeTted on St. John a lifelong
influence. He became the apostle of love, and it is
to him more than anyone else that the world owes the
doctrine that God is love ; but, unlike some teachers,
who, starting from this position, have represented God
as so loving that He overlooks the guilt of erring hu
man beings, St. John combines the doctrine of love with
the profoundest and even sternest views in regard to
the sinfulness of humanity and the need of penitence
and atonement. Shallow views in theology are gen
erally due to slight personal experience of repentance.
But St. John went through the school of the Baptist
to the school of Christ ; and the deepest Christian spirits
have followed the same pathway.
The other element in the Baptist's message was
no less influential. He proclaimed that the kingdom
of God was at hand. This was the revival of the hope
which had stirred the godly and the patriotic in Israel
for hundreds of years — the hope of the reign of God in
the land and in the world, which meant at the same
time the reign of righteousness and peace. This lifted
St. John and the other disciples of the Baptist out of
themselves, to take an interest in the weal of their
country and the welfare of humanity. To a youthful
mind nothing is so good as the awakening of unselfish

26 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
enthusiasm. Childhood is ensheathed in an uncon
scious and natural selfishness; manhood is too often
the prey of deliberate selfishness ; but in youth every
one who is at all divinely -souled feels stirrings of the
desire to live for others and to make the world better.
"Too often, indeed, these emotions are short-lived:
having nothing substantial to feed upon they die away,
and selfishness supervenes. But St. John obtained
from the Baptist faith in a cause fitted not only to feed
enthusiasm but to increase it ; for the kingdom of God
is an object on which unselfish passion can expend all
its resources; and it outlives every individual sup
porter. These two experiences go well together and sup
plement each other. Repentance alone makes the
spirit morbid, and, if indulged too exclusively, may
degenerate into a form of selfishness. Enthusiasm for
the kingdom of God, on the other hand, if unconnected
with repentance is apt to become visionary and vain
glorious : ¦ many are willing to reform the world who
need first^to be reformed themselves. The true order
is that of John's experience: to begin within, with
reconciliation to God, and then, with a spirit of union
with him, to'go forth to the regeneration of humanity.

HIS FIRST MEETING WITH CHRIST. 27

VI.
How long John was a disciple of the Baptist we
cannot tell. But at last he was ripe for further devel
opment. It is the immortal glory of the Baptist that he was
fully conscious of the preparatory and subordinate
nature of his own mission. His was only a herald's
voice announcing the approach of the King. Others
attempted to make him a rival of the Messiah ; but
" he confessed, and denied not, but confessed, I am not
the Christ," and added, " He must increase, but I must
decrease." Never, however, was this attitude so diffi
cult as when he had to transfer his own disciples to
Christ. To have in his company one like St. John
must have been an unspeakable satisfaction ; but, as he
stood with St. John and St. Andrew, he pointed to
Jesus passing by and said, " Behold the Lamb of God,"
thus releasing them from further adherence to himself.
It is generally taken for granted that, of the two
elements in the Baptist's message, the second — the
coming of the kingdom of God — was at first the one
most prominent in the minds of the followers of Jesus :
they are supposed to have been drawn to him chiefly
by Messianic hopes : but these words appear to indi
cate that the reverse was the case, and that the first
part of John's message — the experience of repentance —
was that in which they were chiefly absorbed.
It is, indeed, a question what precisely the Baptist

28 THE DISCI.PLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
meant by designating Jesus as " the Lamb of God." A
choice passage in an exquisite book derives the name
from the imagery of the twenty-third Psalm — that lay
of perfect peace — " the most complete picture of hap
piness that ever was or can be drawn. It represents
that state of mind for which all alike sigh, and the want
of which makes life a failure to most; it represents
that heaven which is everywhere if we could but enter
it, and yet almost nowhere because so few of us can.
The two or three who win it may be called victors in
life's conflict ; to them belongs the regnum et diadema
tutum. They may pass obscure lives in humble dwell
ings, or, like Fra Angelico, in a narrow monastic cell,
but they are vexed by no flap of unclean wings about
the ceiling. From some such humble dwelling Christ
came to receive the prophet's baptism. The Baptist
was no lamb of God. He was a wrestler with life ; one
to whom peace of mind does not come easily, but only
after a long struggle. He was among the dogs rather
than among the lambs of the Shepherd. He recog
nized the superiority of Him whose confidence had
never been disturbed, whose steadfast peace no agita
tions of life had ever ruffled. He did obeisance to the
royalty of inward happiness." These beautiful words
undoubtedly express a truth and afford a genuine
glimpse of Jesus and the Baptist on this occasion ; but
they leaveout the words—" who taketh away the sin of
the world." Others have gone back for the derivation of the
Baptist's phrase to the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah,
especially to the words, " He is brought as a lamb to

HIS FIRST MEETING WITH CHRIST. 29
the slaughter, and, as a sheep before her shearers is
dumb, so he openeth not his mouth." This would de
monstrate that John had grasped the idea of a suffering
Messiah. The opposition which he had met with him
self and his observation of the temper of the people,
and especially of the ruling classes, had convinced him
that the Messiah, instead of being welcomed with open
arms, would be opposed and persecuted ; thus the sin
of the world would concentrate itself on Him, and He
would have to endure the consequences.
But more than this must surely be in the name.
Whether or not, as others suppose, the Baptist had in
his mind the paschal lamb or other lambs of sacrifice,
when we remember to whom he was speaking — to his
own disciples, who had undergone in his school ihe
discipline of repentance — we cannot but conclude that
by the Lamb taking away the sin of the world he
intended to point Christ out as one who could deal
more effectively with sin than he had been able to do.
His own work was preliminary : he aroused the con
science, but he could not satisfy it. What, then, was
the next step ? What virtue was to be looked for in
the Fulfiller who was to come after John ? While it
would be unhistorical to attribute to the Baptist a de
veloped doctrine of atonement, it is equally to miss
the point of the situation not to recognize that the prime
recommendation of the Messiah to those whomjohn was
addressing was that he should be the Saviour from sin.

30 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

VII.
Encouraged by their master, and attracted by
the appearance of Christ, the two disciples of the Bap
tist followeH the departing figure of Jesus. Hearing
their footsteps behind him, he turned and asked,
" What seek ye ?" This is the first saying of our
Lord recorded by St. John ; and some have found in it
deep meanings — as if it were an invitation to all to seek
from him whatever they desired, and he would satisfy
them. But we will content ourselves with something
simpler — its consideration and kindness. The two
seekers were shy, and afraid to introduce themselves ;
those at their stage of experience often are. A very
little will sometimes turn aside an inquiring spirit.
But Jesus met them half-way and put them at their
ease. They replied by asking him where he dwelt,
evidently intimating that they intended sometime to
pay him a visit. But he invited them to an inter
view at once, saying, " Come and see." This also
teaches a lesson : seekers ought to be dealt with
without delay, because their impressions are apt to
evaporate. Many have intended to visit Christ, put
ting off, however, till to-morrow; but some form of
distraction has come in, and the intention has never
been carried into effect.
So Jesus took the young men with him to the
lodging in which he was staying, and they abode with
him that day. St. John tells us the very hour of the

HIS FIRST MEETING WITH CHRIST. 3 1
clock when this happened : " it was the tenth hour,"
which some take to mean ten in the forenoon, others
four o'clock in the afternoon. At all events Jesus
afforded them a prolonged interview, lasting for hours.
The scene, the hour, the duration of their stay, the very
looks on the face of Jesus, had all remained in the
apostle's memory. Most days in anyone's life are for
gotten : they sink out of sight and are indistinguishable
from multitudes like them. But some days are ever
memorable : we can recollect the very hour of the day
when each thing took place, the very tones in which
words were uttered, the very gestures with which acts
were accompanied. Which days are thus imprinted
on the memory ? None more than those on which we
have made acquaintances and formed connections by
which our subsequent life has been powerfully influ
enced. And among such surely the first acquaintance
with Christ may well be a marked date. In one sense.
indeed, to remember this is impossible ; for our acquaint
ance with him goes back beyond our earliest memory.
But it is one thing to hear about Christ from others,
and another actually to come in contact with him and
speak with him face to face. With many, at least, this
is a subsequent experience, occurring within the period
of conscious memory ; and, if such an incident is remem
bered at all, it is likely to be a vivid and a treasured
recollection. These being such never-to-be-forgotten hours of
St. John's experience, we naturally expect to learn from
him what was the subject of conversation, and what
Jesus said. In this, however, we are entirely disap-

32 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
pointed, not a word of detail being given. This is the
more surprising because St. John's gospel is distin
guished for the frequency with which it narrates pri
vate interviews with Jesus. What can be the explana
tion ? It has been suggested that John had forgot
ten ; but this is in a high degree unlikely. A better
explanation may be gathered from the other incidents
of this remarkable day.
It would appear that the method taken by our
Lord to impress himself upon those who were intro
duced to him at this stage was to make them feel that
he had a superhuman insight into their thoughts and
their character. Thus he met Simon with the announce
ment that he was in future to bear the name of Peter.
And he met Nathanael with such full information about
himself that he who had at first incredulously asked,
" Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ?" burst
out with, " Rabbi, thou art the Son of God, thou art
the King of Israel !" Now may we not suppose that
to St. John also at this time Jesus gave proof of his
supernatural knowledge of his history and his inmost
thoughts, communicating perhaps some sweet secret as
to his future relation to himself and his kingdom?
Such a communication a deep, reticent nature like St
John's might feel to be too sacred for reporting.
Scripture seems to give ample encouragement to make
religious experiences public when there is an inner im
pulse to do so ; but the impulse not to disclose every
thing is equally sacred. Some experiences would be
profaned by being described ; the soul has things of its
own with which no stranger intermeddles, Nothing is

HIS FIRST MEETING WITH CHRIST. 33
more valuable to our fellowmen than the communica
tion of genuine religious experience if we are free to
tell it ; but every soul of any depth and intensity has
many secrets which it neither could nor would dis
close. And of this nature may have been the first
confidence vouchsafed to St. John.

Th* Disciple, ete

34 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

VIII.
Something sealed the lips of the evangelist from
telling what took place at this interview ; but if we hacl
any doubt as to whether or not the communication was
one of supreme importance, or whether the hearts of
the two hearers burned within them as they listened
to Jesus for the first time, we should be convinced by
observing how they acted when they issued from the
house. Both hastened away to make their experience
known ; evidently because they were full of what had
happened. It is only, indeed, in a peculiar way that we learn
this about St. John. The narrative says of St. Andrew,
" He first findeth his own brother Simon," and tells him.
But why " first " ? This implies that the other young
man also found his own brother and did the same. It
is an extreme instance of the reticence and modesty
with which in his Gospel St. John refers to himself and
his relatives. He never mentions his brother or his
mother by name. In the present passage he describes
himself only as " another disciple," though there is no
doubt to whom he refers. In estimating the character
of St. John this reserve should be noticed as a promi
nent characteristic; and it harmonizes well with the
other qualities of his exquisite nature.
Both, then, separating at the door of Jesus' lodg
ing, hastened away to tell ; and each went to his own
brother. The latter circumstance is surely a touching

HIS FIRST MEETING WITH CHRIST. 35
and instructive trait. The instinct to bear testimony
to religious experience is a natural one ; but it does not
always lead those who are inspired with it to their own
homes. Indeed, the very last persons to whom some
would think of speaking on religious topics are their
own relatives. It is easier to speak in public, for stran
gers do not know how far our conduct may be in
agreement with our words. To our relatives this is
accurately known ; but just on this account is it safe
and wholesome to begin with them : it is a far stronger
pledge to consistency. Besides, it is the dictate of
nature; if we have any blessed discovery to reveal,
surely those first deserve the benefit of it who are our
own flesh and blood.
Andrew and John had a blessed discovery to make
known. The word with which they broke in upon
their astonished brothers was, " We have found." The
same word was used by Philip to Nathanael; and
Archbishop Trench has called this the Eureka chapter.
What had they found ? " We have found Him of
whom Moses, in the law, and the prophets did write '' —
they had found the fulfilment of the law and of the
prophets : of the law, whose unfulfilled commandments
had been searching their awakened consciences ; of the
prophets, whose unfulfilled predictions had inflamed
their patriotic hopes. So they expressed the discovery
in the language of their time and in accordance with
their own experience. But it can be expressed in many
forms. There is something which all men need ; and
consciously or unconsciously all are seeking it Many
know they have not found it ; many more are unhappy

36 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
they know not why, but this is the reason. Some
think they have found it, but the discovery turns out
to. be a deception. Men toil and moil for, it; they
hasten over seas; they search continent after conti
nent ; they tear out the bowels of th&earth. What is
it ? What is it that can make life a surcess, that can fill
the heart, that can afford to desire at once both satis
faction and stimulation, that can supply life with an
aim, that can guarantee unending progress, that can
fill the immeasurable spaces of eternity ? Is there any
object which can do all this for man ? Andrew and
John came out from their interview with Jesus crying,
" We have found ;" St. John wrote this down at the
close of a great and happy life in token that he still
believed it; and since then millions upon millions
have set to their seal that it is true.

ST. JOHN AT HOME. 37

ST. JOM AT HOME.

rx.
St. John's first meeting with Jesus took place on
the banks of the Jordan, where he was in attendance
on the services of a religious revival and spending days
of leisure among a multitude of strangers ; his second
decisive meeting with him took place at home, in the
midst of his friends and when he was engaged in his
ordinary work. On the first occasion he sought Jesus ;
on the second Jesus came to seek him. This is in
accordance with the law and practice of Christ's king
dom : if, on sacred days and in sacred places, where the
multitude convene for religious purposes, we seek Jesus
and find him, he is quite certain to find us out, subse
quently, in our week-day life — in the home and at busi
ness — and demand recognition and service in the pres
ence of our ordinary acquaintances.
The home of St. John was on the Sea of Galilee — a
charming place in which to be born and brought up ;
for it was the loveliest spot of a lovely country. On
account of the great depth of the basin of the lake, 680
feet below the level of the sea and much more below the
tableland of Galilee, it enjoyed a tropical climate ; the
hills, which sloped down to the water's edge, were cov
ered with the choicest crops; and at their feet were
bowers of olive and oleander, or meadows gay with a

38 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
thousand flowers. In the midst of this wealth of foliage
lay the heart-shaped expanse of water like a sapphire
set in an emerald, except when storms, sweeping down
from the gullies of the neighboring hills, churned it
into foam. The frequency of wind on the lake modified the
heat of the climate and rendered an active life more
easy ; and, therefore, although a scene of tropical
beauty, the district was the very reverse of a scene of
idleness. The fish in the lake were so extraordinarily
numerous that they not only supplied food to the neigh
borhood, but were sent in large quantities to satisfy the
hunger of the multitudes who assembled in Jerusalem
at the annual feasts and were even known in distant
seaports of the Mediterranean. As more than one of
the most frequented highways of the ancient world
passed through the basin of the lake, there was also an
extensive transport trade, as many as four thousand
boats plying for this purpose on its limited surface,
which measured only fifteen miles by eight. Subserv
ing these chief industries, others, like boat-building and
cooperage, occupied a vast population. Nine towns,
with fifteen thousand inhabitants apiece, according to a
contemporary witness, surrounded the shore, which at
the more populous points must have presented the ap
pearance of a continuous city.
Here, then, amid sights and sounds of beauty to
fascinate the heart and occupations to employ the mind,
St. John had grown up ; and there had been nothing in
his youth to suggest that his destiny was to be different
from that of the other sons of obscurity and toil who,

ST. JOHN AT HOME. 39
in that corner of the world, had rejoiced, sorrowed and
died from generation to generation. But it is impossi
ble to predict what may be the history of any son of
Adam. However humble may be the spot where he is
born in time, his spirit comes out of the infinite azure
of eternity, and its possibilities are incalculable. Be
sides, St. John belonged to a nation no child of which
was safe from thoughts soaring far beyond its birthplace
and its own generation, because he was heir to a splen
did past and a still more splendid future. In point of
fact, the lake on whose margin St. John was born was
destined to be lifted up out of its obscurity into ever
lasting visibility and renown, and in this splendid des
tiny he was to participate. But it was the coming of
Jesus which made all the difference.

40 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

X.
The exact spot in the lake region where St. John
was born is not known with certainty. But he informs
us himself that " Philip was of Bethsaida, the city ot
Andrew and Peter ;" and, as we learn from the other
evangelists that he and his brother James were partners
in business with Andrew and Peter, the probability is
that they belonged to the same place. Bethsaida has
been long ago blotted out of existence, and there is
some difficulty in identifying its site; many, indeed,
have believed that there existed two towns of this name,
one on each side of the Jordan where it enters the lake,
but this is improbable. There is no doubt, however,
that Bethsaida stood in the opener, busier and more
beautiful part of the region.
If it be the case that John and James, as well as
Philip, Andrew and Peter, belonged to Bethsaida, the
fact emerges, that from this one small town Jesus ob
tained five out of his twelve apostles — a circumstance
only paralleled in its singularity by the opposite fact,
that of the twelve not one belonged to Jerusalem. All
five had also apparently been disciples of the Baptist
before becoming disciples of Jesus. What can have
been the explanation of a combination so remarkable ?
Was there a rabbi in the synagogue of Bethsaida who
had trained the youth of the place in piety and aspira
tion ? All the teachers even of that soulless age were
not bad men. Or was it to the prayers of their parents

ST. JOHN AT HOME. 41
that this galaxy of youthful earnestness was due?
From the fact that Zebedee offered no opposition to
his sons when they left their business to follow Jesus
we may infer that his sympathies were on the right
side. His wife, Salome, appears later as an enthusias
tic supporter of the good cause. In Bethsaida there
may have been a circle of godly souls whose united
prayers were answered when their sons simultaneously
joined the religious movements of the Baptist and Jesus.
Or was it one of the young men themselves by whose
magnetism the rest were drawn into the paths of peace ?
If so, was this leader John, or Peter, or one of those
less known? One likes to speculate on the possible
causes of such a phenomenon, even though we cannot
hope for a decided answer. Five young men of the
same town could not, all together, have taken such
a course without some powerful influence being at work
in secret. Every visible pillar in the temple of God
rests upon an invisible one sunk beneath the surface of
history. Honor to the unknown workers, who have no
name or fame on earth but without whose labor and
patience the edifice could not have been erected !
Besides John, his father, his brother and his part
ners, we see in the boats on this occasion " hired ser
vants " ; and this circumstance has been combined with
other slight indications in the Gospels to support the
inference that St. John belonged to a condition in life
considerably removed from poverty, with the possibility
of connections even with the more select classes of soci
ety. However this may be, he certainly was a young
man well known in the neighborhood to which he be-

42 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
longed ; and the names and figures mentioned in the
narrative easily enable us to summon up before the
mind's eye a larger circle of relatives and acquaintan
ces, by whom he was surrounded, when the crisis of
his life arrived and he had to make the decisive choice.
Their eyes were upon him ; their tongues, he could not
but be aware, would criticise his action. But Christ,
who had obtained his worship before at a distance and
among strangers, had now come to summon him to
take up the cross of confession and follow him in the
place of his abode and in the presence of his neighbors.

ST. JOHN AT HOME. 43

XI.
John was at work when Jesus approached him.
In the neighboring fields the great Teacher was fol
lowed by a vast multitude, to whom he had been
preaching. Perhaps the sound of his voice had pene
trated to the boat where John was. But the fisherman
could not join the congregation, because he was occu
pied with unavoidable duty. Indeed, he had been at
work all night, as fishermen on the Sea of Galilee
often were; and he could not leave- in disorder the
nets which they had been using. So there he was
at work, mending the nets, with marks of his pro
longed toil visible on his person and his clothes, when
Jesus came.
Jesus did not tell him that he ought to have been
in the congregation, listening to the Word instead of
fishing. On the contrary, he sent him back again to
fish. He even entered into partnership with him, tell
ing him the exact spot of the lake to which to go and
the side of the ship from which to cast out the net.
Thus St. John learned that Christ knew more about the
sea than he, though he had lived on it all his days, and
he found out how successful work is when in the doing
of it the advice of Jesus is followed. We think that it
is only with our spiritual affairs that Jesus is concerned,
but he knows about our occupation, whatever it may
be, better than we do ourselves. Many are afraid that,
if they listened to the voice of Jesus when they are at

44 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
their work, they could not get on ; but the experience
of St. John proves the very opposite.
Perhaps this experience was intended to convince
St. John and his associates that in all their successes
on the water in the past a higher Hand had been at
work than they had always realized. " Every good
and every perfect gift is from above," whether it come
by the direct path of miracle or in more circuitous
ways. But the great lesson of the occasion bore upon
the future. Jesus was about to call away St. John and
his partner from their boats and nets; they were
practical men, accustomed to earn their bread and
look sharply after their hardly- earned gains; they could
not but ask on what they were to depend, and what
provision was to be made for those whom they left be
hind. The miracle of the draught of fishes was the an
swer to these unexpressed inquiries. Could they doubt
the ability to provide of One who so evidently had the
resources of nature at his command?
Yet even this was not the profoundest effect which
Jesus produced on their spirits. St. Peter, grovelling in
the bottom of the boat at the feet of Jesus and crying,
" Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord," gave
expession to the sentiment which was in all their hearts,
and especially, we may.be sure, in the sensitive heart
of St. John. In modern arguments about miracles these
occurrences are generally spoken of as if they had
been irresistible demonstrations addressed to the in
tellect. This, however, does not appear to have been
the way in which they acted. Their effect was moral;
they told upon the emotional nature. A miracle hap-

ST. JOHN AT HOME. 45
pening beside anyone conveyed an overwhelming im
pression that God was near ; and the spectator shrank
into himself as a weak and guilty being. Must not the
most convincing proof in the religious sphere always
be of this nature ? As the sun requires no demonstra
tion when we are standing in the light and warmth
of his beams, so the best proof of God is his presence
and his working. Life does not lack experience of
which every unsophisticated mind spontaneously says :
" This also cometh forth from the Lord of hosts, who
is wonderful in counsel and excellent in working." Nor
are these experiences far to seek. As the boat of St.
John was transformed into a theatre for the manifestation
of Christ's power, so is the pathway of the humblest
strewn with experiences which announce the living God ;
and the Spirit of God strives with every human soul.

46 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XII.
When Christ had subdued the minds of St. John
and his companions with an overpowering sense of his
authority, he uttered the call for which he had been
preparing them. But he couched it in the simplest
terms, still keeping to the level of their actual life : " I
will make you," he said, " fishers of men."
He was calling them away from the employment
by which they had hitherto earned their bread ; but
they were still to continue to be fishers. Between their
past and their future life there was to be no violent
break. The skill and experience which they had ac
quired by faithfulness in the lower sphere were still to
be available in the new sphere to which he was calling
them up. " All things are double one against another,"
says the sage of the apocryphal book of Ecclesiasticus ;
the spiritual and the temporal worlds correspond each
to each ; and a human being cannot exercise any honest
calling conscientiously without learning from it lessons
about things on a loftier plane and being prepared for
a higher service.
When they afterwards reflected, as they must have
done a thousand times, on what it signified to be
fishers of men, no better commentary could possibly
have been found than Christ's own method on this oc
casion in dealing with themselves. He was the supreme
Fisher, and this day he was fishing for them. He ap
proached them cautiously : they saw the crowd in their

ST. JOHN AT HOME. 47
vicinity, and this aroused their curiosity before he
came near. Then he asked the loan of their boat, to
serve for a pulpit ; and thus, to a certain extent, they
were made partners in his work and interested in its ¦
success. Then he showed his interest in their work
and astonished them by his knowledge of where the
fishes were to be found. Step by step he led them
on, till at last the glory of his superiority flashed upon
them and they were at his feet, ready to do whatever
he might say. This is the way to fish for men — gra
dually, cautiously, delicately. Weighty above all is
the law enunciated by St. Paul, and supremely illus
trated on this as on every occasion by Christ — first
that which is natural, afterwards that which is spiritual.
The fisher for men must find people where they are ;
he must understand human nature and human life;
the more he knows about common occupations the
better: he must be able to sympathize with men's re
verses and successes, with the subtle movements of wo
manly feeling, and even with the dreams of childhood ;
he must believe that God is leading human beings to
himself along the pathway of their daily experience,
and that it is only as he co-operates with this intention
of Providence that he can do them good.
Minor lessons about the art to which they were
being called were also to be learned by looking back.
They had toiled all night and caught nothing; so it
is sometimes the lot of the fisher of men to labor in
vain and expend his strength for naught. Again,
both the hour and the place in which the Lord told
them to fish appeared unpropitious ; because the best

48 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
time for fishing was by night, whereas he sent them
to it in daylight ; and fish are generally most plentiful
inshore, while he sent them forth into the deep. So
in spiritual fishing, the most unlikely spots and the
most unpromising seasons sometimes yield the best
results. And, at all events, whenever we have the
Lord's command to launch them forth, there ought to
be no hesitation to go and, at his word, let down the
nets for a draught. St. John and St. Peter must often
have wondered when in the spiritual waters they
would see anything corresponding to the take of that
morning, when the sea seemed alive with fishes and
their nets could not contain them all. But this hope
was gloriously fulfilled when, at Pentecost and in the
times of refreshing which followed, they saw men by
the thousand being brought, through the preaching of
the cross and the outpouring of the Spirit, into the net
of the Kingdom.

ST. JOHN AT HOME. 49

XIII.
Jesus had given the call; it was impressive and
it had gone home ; but it remained to be seen whether
those to whom it had been addressed would respond.
To obey involved a serious practical step. Jesus
had said, " Follow me, and I will make you fishers of
men." They were not to be fishers of men at once :
they were to be made so by degrees, and the art was
to be acquired by following him. This is the rule
always ; this is the only way to learn ; none can be
fishers of men who have not first followed Jesus.
But for them this implied the forsaking of their
homes and the business they had learned, that they
might literally accompany him whithersoever he
went. This could not be an easy thing. St. Peter
was already married, and though St. John probably
was not thus bound he was a partner in a business
in which his father, growing old, required his strength
and skill. Life is a complicated thing, and it is never
easy to wrench one's self out of the position in which
one has been fixed by time and custom. Doubtless
there were neighbors who would consider it an unwise
thing to let go a business which might be prosperous
in order to go after a wandering rabbi, whose aims and
pretensions were problematical. But on the spot they
left all — boats, nets, relatives — even the miraculous
draught of fishes, apparently, they did not stay to
secure; they left all, rose up, and followed hin},
4

50 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
For the most of us, to follow Jesus does not involve
the quitting of home or the throwing up of business :
we are called to follow him at home and in business.
Yet it does in every case involve self-denial and sacri
fice. He calls us away from excessive and exclusive
devotion to any earthly thing, whether it be pleasure
or home or business. Many are starving their spiritual
life, and declining every invitation to usefulness, be
cause they cannot drag themselves away from the
making of money or the engagements of society.
Even the hours of the day of rest are denied to God —
of course they have no time for worship during the
week — and the needs of a perishing world appeal to
them in vain. Does it not shame us to read, " They
left all, rose up, and followed him "? What have
we left ? What are we sacrificing ? " They were
stoned, they were sawn asunder, were slain with the
sword, being destitute, afflicted, tormented." Such
things have men been able to do and to bear for the
sake of religion : they have gladly laid down their
lives for Christ. How much are we able to do and
to suffer for the same sacred cause ?

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE. SI

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE.

XIV.
There were three stages in St. John's connection
with Christ. The first was when he was introduced to
Him by the Baptist and, in a private interview on the
bank of the Jordan, became convinced that He was the
Messiah. This may be called the stage of the Believer.
Thereafter John returned to his ordinary calling as a
fisherman, till, on the strand of the Sea of Galilee, he
was sought out by Jesus and summoned to become his
constant follower ; and he left all, rose up, and followed
him. This may be called the stage of the Disciple.
How long this stage lasted we cannot tell with preci
sion, but there was still an attainment to be reached.
Jesus was in the height of his popularity, and great
numbers of disciples were attaching themselves to him,
and following him wherever he went. When from
among these he selected twelve, that their connection
with him might be more special, the third stage of St.
John's progress was reached — the stage of the Apostle.
With these stages of St. John's experience may
be compared the history of anyone who is called to
the public ministry of the gospel. First, his experience
is an entirely private one — a meeting with Jesus for
his own salvation — and at this stage he may have no

52 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
thought of devoting his life exclusively to the service of
the gospel ; he is merely a believer. By-and-by, how
ever, the impulse to be a preacher overpowers him,
and he may have to give up some other calling in order
to devote himself to the work of preparation. This may
last for years, during which he is a learner or disciple.
At last, when his course of preparation is completed,
he is solemnly set apart to the work of the ministry in a
definite sphere, where he speaks and acts in the name
of Christ, and his service should be apostolic.
In the experience of private Christians the analogy
may not be so perfect. Yet the broad principle ap
plies to all, that, if we are connected with Christ, our
connection with him should constantly be growing
closer, and the line of progress is indicated by these
three words — Believer, Disciple, Aposde, or their equi
valents — Faith, Knowledge, Service.
How important this third stage was in the prog
ress of St. John and the rest who were elevated to the
honor of apostleship is shown by the way in which
Jesus prepared them, and still more by the way in which
he prepared himself for the occasion.
One of the Evangelists introduces his account of
the election of the Twelve with these words : " It came
to pass in those days that he went out into a mountain
to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God ; and,
when it was day, he called unto him his disciples, and
of them he chose twelve, whom he also named apos
tles." Thus we learn that he prepared himself for this
act by a night of prayer. His habit of retiring to sol-

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE. 53
itude for prayer is well known ; he would go away for
an hour or two after the labor of the day was over, or
rise up for this purpose a great while before day ; but
this is perhaps the only occasion when we read that he
spent a whole night in prayer. It shows his sense of
the gravity of the step which he was about to take ;
and what a lesson it is to us as to the manner in
which we should approach important decisions in our
own lives !
Another of the Evangelists introduces the scene
differently. He tells how in those days the crowds
attending upon the ministry of Christ as preacher and
healer had multiplied till " they fainted, and were scat
tered abroad, as sheep having no shepherd." Evi
dently the numbers had outgrown the physical capabil
ity of one to reach them all. Jesus directed the atten
tion of his disciples to the situation and said to them,
" The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are
few ; pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the harvest that
he will send forth laborers into his harvest." There is
no reason to doubt that at least the more earnest of
Christ's followers obeyed this injunction. They took
the situation into their minds till, like their Master,
they were filled with compassion for the needs of the
multitude ; then they earnestly prayed to God to fur
nish laborers for his own work. Perhaps during some
at least of the hours of the night, while Jesus was pray
ing on this subject on the mountain-top, St. John was
awake praying about it at the foot of the mountain.
In the morning the answer came ; but in what form ?

54 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
St. John was told to answer his own prayer ; for he
was called to be one of the laborers whom he had asked
God to send. It was as if, in a period of destitution, a
rich man, overcome with compassion for his poor and
suffering fellow-creatures, should pray to God to suc
cor them, and it should thereupon be flashed into his
mind that he could himself relieve them by giving away
a portion of his wealth. Thus are prayer and effort
joined. If people have compassion on the multitude
because they are scattered abroad, in our slums at home
or in heathen lands, like sheep without a shepherd,
and if they are earnestly praying the Lord of the
harvest to send forth laborers, there will be no lack of
either men or means for the Lord's service.

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE. 55

XV.
The dignity of this new position to which St. John
was raised is clearly defined by St. Mark : " He or
dained twelve, that they should be with him, and that
he might send them forth to preach, and to have power
to heal sicknesses and to cast out devils."
Here are three things which the apostles were to
do: first, to be with him; secondly, to preach; and
thirdly, to heal sicknesses and cast out devils.
The first, " that they should be with him," is the
privilege for which all generations since have envied
the Twelve. They went about with him continually ;
they saw all his miracles ; they heard all his dis
courses ; they daily listened to his table-talk, and could
consult him about anything in his public utterances
which they had not understood, or about which they
wished to make further inquiry ; they saw his life at
close quarters, and felt the influence of his character.
The followers of a Socrates, the catechumens of an
Ambrose, the students of a Tholuck, the pupils of an
Arnold, have informed the world of the magnetism with
which their teachers held them ; but no man ever spake
and no teacher ever charmed like this One.
This privilege was not, indeed, new to St. John
when he became an apostle ; he had enjoyed it on the
lower stage of discipleship. But it is emphasized at

56 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
this stage to remind us that, in advancing to be art
apostle, he did not leave behind the experiences pecu
liar to the two previous stages. He was first believer,
then disciple, then apostle; but when he became an
apostle he required to be far more than ever both
believer and disciple. To be a public representative
of Christianity is a mockery and hypocrisy unless it is
accompanied with growing faith in Jesus and fellowship
with him. Those who teach must not only have learned,
but they must go on learning. The power of public
testimony depends on intimacy with Jesus in secret.
Then, secondly, St. John and his fellow-apostles
were to preach. This was rendered necessary by the
extent of the interest in Jesus : his voice could not reach
all who thronged around him, nor could he visit all the
places which desired his presence ; he had, therefore, to
multiply himself by sending forth those who could speak
in his stead ; and the name he gave them showed that
this was the chief object for which they were ordained ;
for the word " apostles " means " ambassadors." In
one respect it might have been thought that they were
unfit for this part of their vocation, because they were
" unlearned and ignorant men ;" they had not attended
the colleges where the arts of the speaker are taught.
For the present, however, their teaching was to be very
simple. They were not to be settled for a length of
time anywhere, but to itinerate swiftly from place to
place. What they required, therefore, was not a system
of doctrine, but a brief, fervent message ; and this they
had acquired from their contact with Jesus : their souls

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE. 57
were on fire with a joyful discovery, and it was a
pleasure to make it known.
At a later stage much more difficult work lay be
fore the aposdes, requiring resources of many kinds ;
but Jesus could trust to the educative power of their
intercourse with himself. Nor was his confidence mis
placed ; for, when the time came, they were fit to be the
teachers of the world.
Whether or not Jesus would have chosen learned
men, if they had been available, we cannot say ; the
case of St. Paul, who had sat at the feet of Gamaliel,
seems to suggest that he would. But such men were
not forthcoming : men like Nicodemus and Joseph of
Arimathea hesitated ; and the scribes opposed and
despised him. So he had to make use of such instru
ments as were procurable. But he was satisfied with
them. These honest and good hearts, these unwarped
and unbiassed minds, transmitted the message without
coloring it with additions of their own ; and it is easier
for the world in their case to see that the excellency
of the power was not theirs but his.
The third design of the apostolate was that its
members should heal sicknesses and cast out devils.
In some respects this was the most peculiar work of the
aposdes, though it was subordinate to their preaching ;
and it revealed in the most remarkable way the glory
of their Master. In the gospels, Christ's powers of
healing are attributed to the Spirit of God dwelling in
him; but the Spirit dwelt in him so abundantly that
the influence overflowed upon those who were in sym-

58 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
pathetic contact with him; and, thus qualified, they
were able, too, to cure both the body and the mind.
A great modern teacher, the devoted but romantic
Edward Irving, cherished and propagated the notion
that these powers would still be at the disposal of the
Church if her members lived close enough to Christ.
It was a mistake, though perhaps better than the or
thodoxy of little minds. ~ Experience has not justified
his belief; and the reason, no doubt, is that such mirac
ulous powers are no longer necessary. The spirit,
however, of this direction of Jesus to his aposdes is ap
plicable to all times, and it is that the healing of the
body is to accompany the saving of the soul. Not only
may benefits conferred in the name of Christ in the
sphere of the natural life open the door for spiritual
work, but the interest in humanity taught by Christ
extends to man's whole being and cannot help seeking
to bless him at every point. When we send out medi
cal along with preaching missionaries, when nurses are
trained to be servants of the Church, when hospitals are
opened by Christian liberality, when alms are given to
the poor, when in connection with churches and mis
sions wholesome recreation is provided for mind and
body, we are following this indication of the mind of
Christ ; and in our day the Church is awaking to a more
large-hearted conception of her duty in this respect.
In choosing the Twelve Jesus was determining not
only their life but also his own. If they were to be
with him, he was to be with them. He was not to
have his time to himself, or even for the public; at

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE. 59
least a large share of it was covenanted to the apostles.
Nothing in his entire history is more wonderful than
the way in which, while overwhelmed with external
work, he reserved himself for the instruction of the
Twelve. The results have abundantly justified his
wisdom ; and they supply an example, though one
which has been rarely followed. Few even of the most
earnest workers for the many have at the same time been
able to think of the few. It requires rare gifts ; yet a
few followers highly trained, and acquainted with the
deep things of God, may be a far more valuable leg
acy to the Church and the world than multitudes con
verted to a superficial or ordinary Christianity.

60 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XVI.
The supreme privilege of the apostleship was to
be with Jesus ; but this involved another : it was also
a privilege for each apostle to be associated with the
other members of the apostolic circle.
Anyone who has been at college and entered thor
oughly into the spirit of it must always look back to
his student days as a golden period of his life ; and the
chief reason is that there he has associated with picked
men. By a process of natural selection a large pro
portion of. the most gifted and aspiring youth of the
country gather in college ; it is easy among them to
find friends ; and never again, perhaps, in life may a
man be close to so many choice spirits. Much more
true is it that the college of the apostles consisted of
picked men. They had been selected by the insight
of Christ himself, after a night of prayer and, no doubt,
days of reflection. They were chosen from among his
numerous followers as the most devoted to his person
and the most suitable for his work. Their hearts were
aglow with the joy of spiritual discovery and the en
thusiasm of a noble cause. Could there be more fa
vorable conditions for the formation and the ripening
of friendship ?
United, however, as the members of the apostolic
circle were in their fundamental experiences and aspi
rations, they were nevertheless widely diverse in other

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE. 6l
respects. It would be difficult to conceive two charac
ters by nature more unlike than St. Peter and St. John ;
St. Matthew, before his call, had been a publican — that
is, a tax-gatherer for the Roman rulers — while one of
the Simons had been a Zealot — that is, a radical oppo
nent of the government, and especially the taxation, of
the Romans ; in the company of Jesus St. James the
martyr and St. Thomas the doubter met together ; and
the less-known apostles in all probability represented
similar diversities. It seems to have been the design
of Jesus to unite in his service the most diverse talents
and dispositions, and in this there was a special bless
ing for ie'ach of the Twelve ; because those acquain
tanceships and friendships are the best which, along
with unity in essentials, combine the utmost variety in
details. One great intention of Christianity is to be a cen
tre of union. Multitudes would be utterly lonely in
the world were it not for their connection with the
church ; and many more, though enjoying other op
portunities of union with their fellow-creatures, have
found in the church their best friends and formed their
most cherished ties. Christian work especially affords
such opportunities : and nowhere else are the acquain
tanceships formed likely to be so valuable, for attrac
tion to the work of Christ is a selective process which
winnows out the best.

62 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XVII.
On this occasion St. John received from the Lord
a special mark of recognition : he and his brother were
called by a new name — Boanerges, the sons of thun
der. This is mentioned only by St. Mark and only in
this place, and unfortunately the name is to us an
enigma. Some have explained it as an allusion to the origin
of their spiritual life. They were disciples of the Bap
tist before becoming disciples of Christ ; the Baptist's
teaching was the seed from which their new destiny de
veloped. Now his preaching might, for obvious rea
sons, be compared to thunder : it consisted chiefly of
denunciations of sin and calls to repentance. It has
further been suggested that St. John and St. James may
have been in the company of the Baptist on the occa
sion when he received the sign by which he was assured
that Jesus was the Christ ; and one element of this was
a voice from heaven, uttered, no doubt, in thunder. As
this could not but affect the minds of the brothers they '
might be said to be born of the thunder.
The more common notion, however, has been that
the name referred to some personal peculiarity. In
common parlance the name Boanerges is applied to
a speaker with a very loud voice ; and this has actual
ly been supposed to have been the reason why the

ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE. 63
name was given originally. A conspicuously loud
voice is, however, about the last attribute which should
be associated with St. John, and we cannot suppose
Jesus to have laid any emphasis on such a trifling cir
cumstance. There has been much stronger support given to
the notion that a mental peculiarity of the brothers was
touched upon. There are several instances in their
subsequent history — notably the occasion when they
wished to call down fire from heaven on a town which
refused to receive their Master — which indicate that
in the earlier stages of development they were specially
characterized by a fiery and excessive zeal. It is, in
deed, difficult to reconcile with this image of St. John
the charity and lovableness of his later years ; but the
fact seems to be undeniable. The Book of Revelation
is the transfigured form of this disposition; and it is
a book full of thunders, lightnings and voices from
heaven. The character which is gentlest and most
tolerant in maturity may have, hidden at its core, a
temper once hot but long subdued by grace. The
idea, then, is that Jesus was alluding to this imperfec
tion of the two brothers, marking it with a name, that
they might watch against temptation and overcome
their failing. They did overcome it, and this accounts
for the fact that the name occurs nowhere else; the
peculiarity at which it pointed having disappeared it
ceased to be applicable, and was forgotten.
The objection to this view is that, were it true,
the name must have been a reproof, almost a nick-

64 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
name, but the names bestowed at similar crises through
out the Bible were all intended as marks of honor. So
it was when Abram was changed to Abraham, Jacob
to Israel, Simon to Peter, and so on. It is not agree
able to own that we are baffled, but the circle of con
jecture in this case yields nothing decisive ; and the
best we can say is that the name probably conveyed
to St. John and St. James some secret of the divine
favor or some hint for their subsequent progress which
we are not now in a position to define.

ST. JOHN ONE OF THREE. 65
ST. JOHN ONE OF THREE.

XVIII.

St. John was, first. of all, merely a believer in
Christ. Then he was drawn into the narrower circle
of Christ's disciples — that is, of those who gave up
their occupations, and left all, to follow him whitherso
ever he went. Finally, he was elected one of the
Twelve who were to be with Christ in a still closer way
and to act as his heralds and ambassadors. But at
this point his progress did not stop : even within the
circle of the Twelve there was formed, by divine se
lection, a still narrower circle : three of the Twelve
became, in a special sense, Christ's confidential friends,
and St. John was one of the Three.
Are there not such distinctions still ? The Chris
tian name is a very wide word, and includes vast mul
titudes within its circumference. But Christians are
not all alike : they are not all equally near to the Sa
viour ; they are not all equally identified with his cause
and his work. Some hearts in which the Gospel strikes
root bear only thirty-fold, while others bear sixty-fold,
and some bear a hundred ; there is what may be called
minimum Christianity, and there is average Christianity,
and there is a Christianity which may be called max
imum. A man may begin at the outer circle by being
a minimum Christian ; but he may pass inwards through
one circle after another, still following the attragtion of
5

66 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
Christ, till he gets as near to him and as like him as it
is possible in this world to be. We ought not to be
content with merely being able to claim the Christian
name: if Christ is our Lord and Master, and if we
have chosen him as our ideal and pattern, the true path
of life must consist in being more and more absolutely
identified with him.
The image of this close friendship, as we see it in
the experience of the Three, of whom St. John was one,
will answer such inquiries as these : Into what situations
does such a friendship take men ? Where are its tryst-
ing-places ? By what experiences are men proved to
be specially His friends ?
The first scene in which we find the Three asso
ciated with Jesus is at the raising of the daughter of
Jairus. The other apostles were in the street with
their Master, but, when he arrived at the house, he
permitted none to enter but Peter, James and John.
Thus the house of mourning was the first rendez
vous. And none will ever be very near to Jesus who
do not go to meet him there. Many who bear the
Christian name never go. Although in so many of
his sayings Jesus has made the visiting of the sick and
dying, of the widow and the orphan, of the poor and
needy, a conspicuous mark of his religion, yet the
number of professing Christians is small who go upon
such errands. Multitudes who would be indignant if
their Christianity were called in question never, from
January to December, enter the house of a poor person.
They are not even aware where such persons are to be
found ; they would not know how to approach them ;

ST. JOHN ONE OF THREE. 67
they would be shocked at the sight of suffering and
death ; the world of misery is to them a terra incog
nita. To some Christians, however, it is well known.
They are always in it. One case leads on to another.
If only you are known as a friend and visitor of the
poor appeals will come fast enough. It may appear
an undesirable world to know — this world of misery ;
yet those who go about in it find many features to
fascinate. Undoubtedly the most attractive, however,
is that Christ is there. Nowhere else are you more
certain of finding him or of being found by him.
The sight of so stupendous a miracle as the raising
of a human being from the dead was a rare privilege,
which the Three enjoyed by being with Jesus in the
house of mourning. But perhaps it was for something
else that he took them there; his own behavior on
this occasion was a wonderful illustration of gentleness
and delicacy of feeling and action.
When he arrived at the house death had already
taken place, and the usual Jewish paraphernalia of
mourning were in possession. The Oriental gives vi
olent expression to his emotions ; in grief he rends
his garments, casts dust upon his head and clothes
himself in sackcloth. And when the extreme sorrow of
bereavement comes he even calls in outsiders to ex
press his woe: professional mourners make doleful
music and hired women utter piercing wails. This was
all going on when Jesus arrived. But to him it was
odious, as was everything unreal. He knew that this
professional woe meant nothing ; those who were weep
ing could as easily laugK; indeed, they did laugh the

68 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
next minute, when he said that the maid was not dead.
So, assuming the form of authority which he could wear
so irresistibly when occasion required, he put them all
forth, and thus produced the silence which, to his feel
ing, was the proper accompaniment of death.
Then, when peace reigned, he approached the
room where death had pitched his tent. He bade the
father and mother enter ; it was their right. Then he
admitted the Three : twelve would have disturbed his
sense of congruity. Then he took her cold hand, that,
when she awoke, she might be steadied, instead of
being terrified, and might look up in his face and be
comforted. After the miracle was over he ordered the
parents to give her something to eat, that the expres
sions of wonder might not continue too long; and,
under cover of their occupation with this duty, he,
along with the Three, retired.
By his reverence for death, for maidenhood, for
fatherhood and motherhood, and by his dislike of
noise, unreality and rumor, Jesus was teaching the
Three a part of his secret. It is not enough to do
good deeds : to be like Christ, these must be done in
the right manner — with delicacy, refinement and reti
cence. There are those who wish to do good, but
they are so boisterous with it, or they talk so much
about it, that what they do is robbed of all grace.
There are those who display a keen interest in the
eternal welfare of their neighbors, but they approach
them with so little respect that they offend instead of
winning. Such have only learned the one half of the
secret of Jesus.

ST. John one of three. 69

XIX.
The next scene in which the Three figure is the
Transfiguration. In the evening Jesus took Peter,
James and John up to a mountain apart, while the rest
of the apostles were left below on the plain.
For what purpose were they thus taken into soli
tude ? Knowing their Master's habits they could have
no doubt, as they drew near the top and the shades
of night were falling : they were going to pray; and
he at least was still praying at the moment when the
scenes of the Transfiguration commenced.
Those who live close to Jesus and are like him
must often be with him in the school of prayer. All
Christians pray ; yet there are great differences. The
prayers of many are brief and formal ; they are a duty
rather than a privilege; they are recollections from
the past rather than the spontaneous outflowings of
present emotion. But to some Christians prayer is vital
breath; they talk with God as children with a father;
they forget the flight of time, because they are ab
sorbed and delighted. It was to spend a whole night
on the height that Jesus invited the Three.
In hours of this kind wonderful things occur. To
Jesus himself the Transfiguration may be said to have
been a reward for the night of prayer. From the state
of exaltation to which prayer had already raised him
he passed, without a break, into the condition of trans
figuration. He had reached a crisis of his life. For

70 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
a long time at its commencement his ministry in Gal
ilee had been extraordinarily successful — his miracles
excited unbounded enthusiasm; his preaching drew
countless multitudes ; it seemed as if the unanimous
voice of the nation were to carry him to the throne of
his fathers. But of late a change had taken place — the
popular feeling had cooled ; opposition had risen in
different quarters ; Jesus had been compelled to with
draw himself from the impure zeal of the mob. He
saw clearly in front the narrow way at the end of which
stood the cross. More and more he had been retir
ing into himself. He was in need of support and en
couragement. Often had he sought these in commu
nion with the great spirits of the past, by whom his
destiny of suffering had been foreseen and foretold. At
length communion with them became so close that Mo
ses and Elias, the representatives of law and prophecy,
were drawn across the confines of the world invisible,
and they conversed with him, no doubt to his great
strengthening and comfort, about the decease which
he was to accomplish at Jerusalem — the one event in
Christ's earthly history on which is concentrated the
interest of all the redeemed of mankind, and of all
heaven itself
Then ensued greater honor and comfort still, when
the bright cloud, the symbol of the divine presence,
enveloped the mountain-top, and out of it issued the
voice of God himself, saying, " This is my beloved
Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear ye him." It
was a testimony which must have made his heart glad,
that his mode of doing the work of his Father had, up

ST. JOHN ONE OF THREE. 7 1
to this point, been perfect and acceptable, and a pledge
that the same grace would continue to sustain him
during the portion of his obedience yet to come.
To the Three it was a great privilege to see theit
Master in this hour of exaltation. Two of them refer to
it in their writings as a crowning mercy of their expe
rience. St. Peter says, " He received from God the
Father honor and glory .... when we were with him
in the holy mount." And St. John is probably referring
to the same incident when he says : " We beheld his
glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father."
It was a preparation for them, too, in view of the trials
to which their faith was to be exposed in the months
when their Master was to be despised and rejected of
men. When their Messianic hopes were disappointed,
and the career of Jesus took a course totally different
from that which they had anticipated, there was put on
their faith a tremendous strain ; but by what they had
seen and heard on the Mount they were enabled to
stand it, and to form the nucleus of loyalty round
which the rest of the apostles gathered.
All who meet with Christ on the heights will, in
some decree, share the same privileges. They will
possess evidence of the glory of Christ not to be ob
tained elsewhere. Faith is in some minds a tradition
handed down from the past which they have never
doubted; in others it is a conviction laboriously ham
mered out by argument But there is a faith which is
more quick and powerful than these : it is the faith of
experience ; and it can hardly be missed by those who
are much on the Mount. In such circumstances they

72 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED,
receive evidence of God's existence, his glory and his
love, which becomes part and parcel of their own be
ing ; and in such intercourse with the Saviour there
cannot but occur now and then experiences of exalta
tion and revelation which are registered among the
most precious memories of the past, and can only be
taken away by some catastrophe which blots out the
records of experience altogether.

ST. JOHN ONE OF THREE. 73

XX.
The next occasion on which the Three were alone
with Jesus was in Gethsemane. If it is natural to wish
to have dear friends near in an hour of triumph, it is still
more an instinct of the heart to wish this in the season
of sorrow. Jesus invited the Three to the mountain-
top that they might behold his glory ; he invited them
into the depths of the garden that they might support
him in his hour of agony.
The soul of the Saviour was exceeding sorrowful,
even unto death. The hour to which he had long been
looking forward had arrived ; but it proved to be intol
erably bitter.
Grief has a double instinct : it seeks solitude ; and
Jesus removed himself a stone's cast even from the
Three into the depths of the grove ; yet, at the same
time, it seeks sympathy; it is a relief to it to pour
itself out into willing ears ; and, therefore, Jesus wished
them to be near, that he might go to them when the
state of his overcharged heart would allow him. The
disciples had need, besides, to pray on their own ac
count They, too, had reached a crisis in their for
tunes, where they might suffer shipwreck, and again
and again he urged them to watch and pray, lest they
should enter into temptation.
It was a golden opportunity for the Three, when
they could have obtained insight into the heart of their
Master, and might have rendered him service which

74 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
would have been divinely recompensed, besides prepar
ing themselves for playing the man in the scenes which
were about to ensue. But it was a lost opportunity.
They were near him in Gethsemane ; yet • they were
not with him. Jesus had invited them to a degree of
confidence and intimacy beyond what they had ever
yet enjoyed ; but they could not enter so far into his
secret. We wonder especially at St. John. He at
least might have kept awake, although the other two
had slept. He should have filled the place of the
angel, who had to come from heaven to strengthen
the Saviour because there was not a man to do it.
St. John's loving and sensitive heart you would have
expected to be all alive and awake, when he saw the
state into which his beloved Master had fallen. But
even he succumbed to the drowsiness of grief; and
Jesus came, seeking sympathy and comfort, and found
none. " Sleep on now," he said, " and take your rest."
The opportunity was passed ; and nothing could ever
recall it.
Christ still invites us into Gethsemane. When
may he be said to do so ? When his cause appears
to be in desperation ; when the world is all against
him, and his truth requires to be maintained against
the organs of public opinion and the dead weight ol
conventionalism ; when to confess him associates us
with the poor and despised, while those whose good
opinion we have been accustomed to enjoy wonder at
us. In circumstances of this description a rare oppor
tunity is offered of getting near to Christ. Never do we
understand him so well, never does his love shine so

ST. JOHN ONE OF THREE. 75
full upon us, as when we are sacrificing honor, comfort,
pleasure for his sake. But too often the opportunity is
lost. Self-indulgence in some form comes in. It may
not be a gross form : the sleep of the disciples in Geth
semane was very pardonable, and our self-indulgence
may be something equally innocent. It may be the
reading of a book when we ought to be saving a soul ;
it may be sitting in the comfort of home when we
ought to be on the track of the homeless ; it may be
acquiescence in the opinions and practices of the re
spectable set to which we belong when we ought to
come out from them and, at the risk of being thought
odd, or even mad, offer our protest. A thing in itself
entirely innocent may act as a soporific — to dull the
sense of duty, and smother the call of Christ — so that
the opportunity of being brought close to him through
the fellowship of his sufferings is lost for ever.

¦j6 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XXI.
There is one more scene in which the Three
appear along with Jesus, though on this occasion there
was associated with them a fourth — St. Andrew, the
brother of St. Peter ; the same who in the lists of the
apostles is always associated with the Three in form
ing the first group of four. On a day in the last week
of our Lord's earthly life we find these four seated
with Him on the Mount of Olives over against the Tem
ple — that is, they were looking across the holy city,
which lay at their feet, and they were thinking of the
doom by which, Jesus had told them, it was to be
overtaken — when they asked him, " Tell us, when
shall these things be? and what shall be the sign
when all these things shall be fulfilled ? "
In thus asking they were exercising a privilege
often used by the Twelve, to seek for an explanation of
anything in their Master's doctrine which they had not
understood, or the solution of any problem suggested
to their minds by remarks which he had made. Prob
ably this privilege had been specially exercised on
other occasions by the Three. It was a very precious
privilege, and on this occasion Jesus gave a very full
and impressive answer.
It is a sign of advancement in the divine life to feel
an interest in the mysteries of religion; and in this
region Jesus meets those who have his mind. In our
day, indeed, the desire is often expressed for a Chris-

ST. JOHN ONE OF THREE. TJ
tianity free from mysteries : would not the Sermon on
the Mount, along with a simple outline of the facts con
tained in the gospels, be enough ? can we not get quit
altogether of dogmas and doctrines ? Well, it is a very
fair question how much ought to be demanded as a
foundation for Christian union and cooperation. The
quantum ought perhaps to be reduced to a minimum.
If any man acknowledges Christ as his Lord and Sav
iour we need not ask much more about his creed be
fore welcoming him as a Christian brother. But, while
a minimum of belief may be enough to entitle a man
to be called a Christian, a man cannot be an advanced
or matured Christian without the necessity asserting
itself within him for a more comprehensive creed. The
Christian life, as it progresses, raises questions the
answers to which are the doctrines of the gospel ; and
the deeper the life is the deeper will be the doctrines
required to express it.
It is true that there is an intellectualism which
separates dogma from life and substitutes the reasonings
of the head for the experiences of the heart. There is
also a prying into religious mysteries which is born
only of morbid curiosity. There is, for example, a
habit of speculating about the future which sometimes
approaches the brink of insanity. But the caricature
of a thing is no condemnation of the thing itself. On
this occasion Christ did not tell the inquiring spirits by
whom he was surrounded that such questions as they
had put were of no moment. He gave a solemn and
satisfying answer.
There are doctrines which are simply the intellec-

78 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
tual equivalents for spiritual experiences, and where the
experiences exist the truths which explain them will be
understood and relished — while, on the other hand,
contempt or impatience of these doctrines is an indi
cation of the absence of the experiences. So a living
interest in the progress of the kingdom of God gives
an interest in the mystery of the future. You cannot
break up a human nature into compartments and say
that religion is to reside in some of them and not in
others. Where religion is real and progressive it
quickens the whole man. And not least does it affect
the intelligence. The intellect is a noble faculty, and
when, under the excitement of experience, it seeks to
penetrate the mystery of life, He who is our wisdom,
no less than our righteousness and sanctification, de
lights to answer its interrogations.

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN. 79

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN.

XXII.
The destiny of St. John was to be near to Christ.
From the outside world he entered first within the
circle of Christ's disciples. From there he moved
inwards, within the circle of the Twelve. Still he
pressed nearer, being admitted into the circle of the
Three. And, finally, he was the One whom Jesus loved.
It was a glorious destiny. Many a man would
say that the greatest distinction of his life has been the
set of friends he has known. Even a single friendship,
with a specially gifted man or woman, may be the most
golden memory of a life. But no friendship the world
has ever seen can be compared with that enjoyed by
St. John. To lie on the breast of the Son of man, to
share his inmost thoughts, to be formed by daily and
hourly contact with his personality — this was an unpar
alleled privilege.
Like all great privileges, however, it had its penal
ties. And one of these was the exposure of the disci
ple's weaknesses. None could come near to Christ
without being dwarfed by his stature and darkened in
his light. We see, especially in the final scenes of his
life, how this happened to his enemies. One after an
other approached him— Judas, Caiaphas, Herod, Pilate
and the rest — only to have every spot and wrinkle of

80 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
his own character made everlastingly visible. But the
same happened, in a different way, to his friends. No
doubt Jesus drew forth all that was good in them ;
whatever seeds of promise their natures contained were
rapidly developed by the influence of his companion
ship. But the evil in them was brought to light too.
Sometimes, when a block of freestone is brought from
the quarry and dressed in the sculptor's yard, it looks
beautiful, but after it has been fitted into its place in the
building the action of the weather has a strange effect.
The stone begins to bleed, as the phrase is ; its surface
becomes covered with discoloring exudations. These
proceed from iron or sulphur hidden in its interior ;
and the disfiguration may be so great that the stone
has to be removed from its place altogether. The
fellowship and work of Christ have a similar effect on
his followers, bringing to the surface their concealed
vices and unconscious weaknesses.
Weaknesses like those of St. John are especially
tested by Christ's work. In human nature there are
two opposite poles of sin, within which all the other
forms of evil find their places. Where the constitution
is soft and loose, the temptation is self-indulgence. in
its various forms ; but where, on the contrary, the ele
ments are finer and more compact, the danger lies in
_ self-conceit, with all its developments of arrogance,
ambition and intolerance. St. John's was a refined and
reserved nature, and pride was his besetting sin. On
this the work of Christ has an exciting effect, because
it separates a man from his fellows and places him in a
superior position. He possesses a secret which others

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN. 8 1
do not share ; he criticises their conduct from the height
of his own ideal ; he approaches them as a reprover
and a revealer. Unless he has learned from some
other quarter the secret of. humility, his position may
make him scornful and overbearing.
There is a legend of St. John's later life which, if
it were true, would prove that this failing clung to him
to the last. Meeting the heretic Cerinthus in the bath,
it is said, he fled from the building, alleging as his rea
son that it was not safe to be under the same roof with
such an enemy of God, because the judgment of God
might at any moment destroy the building which con
tained him. But we will hope that the education im
parted in the school of Christ had long before the
arrival of old age made St. John more charitable in his
judgments and more watchful of his words.

THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XXIII.
The most conspicuous occasion on which the ten
dency to pride showed itself in St. John's conduct was
when, with his brother and his mother, he came to
Jesus to petition him for a certain thing.
It is not clear whether the ambitious notion orig
inated in the minds of the sons or in that of the mo
ther. In one of the gospels the mother appears to
take the initiative, bringing her sons to Jesus and pros
trating herself before him, to ask on their behalf that
they should sit, the one on his right hand and the
other on his left, in bis kingdom ; but it is possible that
she was only the catspaw through whom they sought
their ambitious ends. If so, their design was well
planned. A woman is a more effective petitioner than
a man. Even the excess of pride in her sons which she
may display has an amiable appearance and moves
sympathy rather than antipathy. She no doubt ap
proached Christ with a smile, and what in them might
have looked offensive seemed admirable in her. Be
sides, she had claims. She was the aunt of Jesus, in all
probability. She had been one of those women who in
Galilee had followed him, ministering to him of their
substance. Above all, she had given him her two sons,
who had been among the very best of his followers.
Salome was herself a true lover and disciple of Jesus.
But her devotion to the cause was mixed with selfish
elements ; and, because her ambition was on behalf of

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN. 83
her sons rather than herself, she may have indulged it
with the less fear. She had not yet learned to know
her Teacher well enough, or to feel how small all such
selfish desires were to be made by the tragedy of his
fate. There can be no doubt, however, that her sons,
though they kept in the back-ground, were quite as full
of ambition. Indeed, in one of the gospels they are
represented as presenting the petition on their own
behalf; and this lets out the secret: the design was
more theirs than hers. Some have discerned good
elements in their ambition. It sprang, they think,
from their desire to be near Christ ; it showed at least
their faith in his royal dignity and claims. "The
juice of the ripe apple is the same," it has been re
marked, " that it was in the green fruit, plus sunlight
and sunheat." And it is true that what in youth is
self-conceit and intolerance may, through maturing ol
experience and the influence of sanctification, grow
into the dignity and stability of a self-respecting char
acter. The self-suppression of St. John's later writings
may be only the self-assertion of his youth in a ripened
and sanctified form ; and the intolerance of his youth
may in his old age have mellowed into the firmness of
principle and the perseverance of tireless love. But
certainly at this early stage his ambition was of the
earth, earthy ; and its manifestation was both unlovely
and hurtful. One of its evil results was to inflame the rest of
the apostles. When they heard the petition of James
and John they were indignant. It seemed to them that

84 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
the brothers were trying to take a mean advantage of
them. And this was too true. Yet their own anger
sprang from the same root. They also were dreaming
of thrones and dignities. From other incidents we
learn that the whole apostolic circle was at this time
inwardly convulsed by such desires and disputes. Yet
day by day Jesus was, at this very time, telling them
that he was to suffer and die. Self was reigning in
them, and so their eyes were blinded. He might have
said to them, "My thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways."

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN. 85

XXIV.
He did speak to them on this occasion, and in
words of great dignity and profundity set before them
the contrast between the selfish spirit which they had
been displaying and the true spirit of his kingdom ;
but he spoke with kindness and consideration, not in
anger but in sorrow, for he knew how difficult was
their situation and how little they were yet able to take
in the truth: nothing but events could disabuse their
minds of the prejudices in which they were held.
" Ye know not what ye ask," he said to the bro
thers. Their petition was that they might be on his
right hand and on his left ; but his prophetic eye, look
ing forward to the crisis which now arrested his atten
tion whenever he thought of the future, saw on his right
hand and on his left — what? On each hand a cross,
with a victim upon it. To be in the place of the two
thieves, crucified with him, was what they were ask
ing, if they had only known.
The favorites of a king, seated on his right hand
and on his left, may have the privilege of drinking out
of the royal cup and dipping their fingers or napkins
in the vessel in which he washes his hands ; and James
and John had had this honor in their thoughts. But
the thoughts of Jesus flew forward to a cup of which
he was" to drink, and a laver in which he was to bathe ;
but the cup was his agony, and the laver the bath of
his own blood. With deep emotion he, therefore,

86 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
asked, " Are ye able to drink my cup and be baptized
with my baptism ?" " Yes," they replied, " we are
able," not knowing what they said. And again, as his
prophetic eye glanced into the future, he added, " Ye
shall, indeed, drink of my cup and be baptized with my
baptism ;" for he foresaw that St. James was to fall a
martyr under the sword of Herod, and he knew by
what manner of death St. John was to glorify God.
" But," he added, " to sit on my right hand and on
my left is not mine to give, but it shall be given unto
them for whom it is prepared of my Father." These
words sound like a limitation of the knowledge and
authority of Jesus ; as if this were one of those myste
rious things which, he declared on another occasion,
the Father had kept in his own hand. But probably
the meaning is simple. Salome and her sons had
asked Jesus to bestow the honors of his kingdom in
answer to their petition. Such was the bad practice
of Oriental monarchs : they gave places away to favor
ites capriciously, without regard to services or merits.
Jesus says there is to be in his kingdom no such favor
itism or giving away of positions : every post will be
given to the man for whom it has been prepared, or
to the man who has been prepared for it. The man on
whom God has conferred the necessary gifts and graces,
and who, employing well his talents in a few things, has
qualified himself for being entrusted with many things —
to him will the place of honor be given.
In addressing the Twelve Jesus made this con
trast still more clear and emphatic. The way of earth
ly monarchies is that birth gives position, and he who

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN. 87
has the position uses it for his own pleasure and ag
grandizement ; his station is measured by the numbers
who are ready to bow to him and serve him. In the
kingdom of God the ruling principle is exactly the
reverse. Greatness is measured not by the number of
those who serve you, but by the number of those whom
you serve, and by the value of the services you render
them. A high position is to be coveted, not because
it confers ease or fame, but because it supplies the
opportunity of doing more extensive good.
Never, surely, did Christ utter a more revolution
ary word or characterize more clearly the difference
between the world and Christianity. For what are the
men and women of the world toiling, moiling and striv
ing ? To see who shall be uppermost ; who shall com
mand and control others ; who shall be flattered and
feared. But that, says Jesus, is not greatness : he is
great who makes the world a wholesome and sunny
place for others, and who, by the sacrifice of his own
happiness, if necessary, makes others rejoice. Who is
king of men and queen of women ? He and she who
make the greatest number good and glad.
How slowly the world learns this lesson ! How
slowly the Church learns it ! Yet it is the lesson of the
life of Christ. Why is he the greatest among the chil
dren of men ? Because he took the whole human race
into the embrace of his beneficence, and because the
blessing which he conferred on them was the greatest
of all— the gift of salvation. " The Son of man came
to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many."

88 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XXV.
There was another occasion on which St. John
showed the same infirmity of temper. It came out
during a scene of indescribable beauty in the life of
Christ. Among the disciples there had been a dispute
which of them should be the greatest ; and their Mas
ter, knowing their thoughts, took a child and set him
in the midst ; then, clasping him in his arms, he pro
ceeded to speak to them of the childlike spirit which
they ought to cultivate, and of the danger of doing
any offense to one of his little ones.
As the discourse proceeded in this strain, some of
its words struck upon the conscience of one of the lis
teners. It was St. John, who remembered an incident
of the recent past which seemed to be placed in a new
light by what the Master was saying. Perhaps even at
the time he had been doubtful about it ; but now he
was convinced that he had done wrong; so he made
his confession. And it is to his honor that he was so
prompt both to feel the prick of conscience and to make
a public acknowledgment of his mistake.
The story was that, on a certain occasion when they
were separate from their Master, the apostles had fallen
in with one who was casting out devils in his name ;
and they had forbidden him, because he followed not
with them : he did not belong to the company of Jesus.
It is interesting to learn that faith in Christ had thus
spread sporadically, outside the circle round about

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN. 89
himself, and that it was strong enough even to cast out
devils in his name. In a similar way we find the teach
ing of the Baptist taking root far from the scene of his
labors and apart from the regular succession of his dis
ciples. But St. John and his companions had forbidden
this humble and imperfect believer. It was a good
work in which he was engaged, for surely the more
victims could be delivered from the power of the devils
the better, but they discovered some irregularity in his
method of procedure ; though he had the power of the
Spirit he lacked the proper legitimation. Therefore, it
seemed to them, he was poaching on their preserves,
and with the pride of authority they silenced him.
It is pitiable to think, with this standing in the gos
pels, how often the same mistake has been repeated —
how often the officials of the church have silenced tes
timony or stamped out good work inspired by the
Spirit of God, because it has seemed to them to be in
some way out of order or destitute of authority; how
this or that branch of the church has considered itself
the only legitimate one ; and how the good of one sec
tion of the church has been evil spoken of by the rest.
On the other hand, it would be vain to deny that
toleration is one of the most difficult virtues to exercise.
It is not easy to find the golden mean between Sad-
ducean laxity on the one hand and Pharisaic cen-
soriousness on the other. We may be censuring the
disciples at the safe distance of the centuries and doing
the same thing ourselves.
Yet Jesus laid down on this occasion a broad rule :

90 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
"He that is not against us is for us." On another
occasion he said precisely the reverse : " He that is not
for us is against us." How shall we reconcile these
opposite maxims ? It is not difficult : obviously the
one is a rule for judging others, the other a rule for
judging ourselves. When we are criticising our own
conduct we should be stern and searching and this
word should sound in our souls : " He that is not with
me is against me;" but when we are criticising the
conduct of others we ought to be lenient and charita
ble, remembering this word : " He that is not against us
is for us." We know the motives of our own actions
and the feelings which follow them ; but we do not
know the motives and feelings of others.
" One point must still be greatly dark:
The reason why they do it ;
And just as lamely can we mark
How far perhaps they rue it.
Then at the balance let 's be mute,
We never can adjust it ;
What 's done we partly may compute,
We know not what 's resisted."

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN. 91

XXVI
The third case in which St. John's arrogance and
heat of temper came out was during the last journey to
Jerusalem. Jesus was passing from town to town, as he jour
neyed towards the capital, healing the sick and pro
claiming the kingdom of God; and it seems to have
been his practice to send on messengers in advance,
to place after place, to announce his coming and per
haps also to make some provision for the entertainment
of himself and his company. Two of these messengers
were sent to a Samaritan village ; for his road lay
through Samaria; but they were met by an outburst of
fanatical ill-feeling: the Samaritans would not receive
them because they were on their way to Jerusalem.
The Jews had no dealings with the Samaritans;
the Samaritans worshipped " in this mountain," but the
Jews considered that Jerusalem was the place where
men ought to worship. The rivalry was ancient and
bitter, and at any moment it was liable to break out.
The hatred of the Samaritans not infrequently vented
itself on the Jewish pilgrims going to the feasts at
Jerusalem ; and it was in this character that Jesus and
the apostles appeared to the Samaritan villagers on
this occasion. But the apostles were furious : this was an insult to
them and an insult to their Master, whose greatness
these rude fanatics wholly ignored. James and John

92 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
especially distinguished themselves by their zeal ; and
they asked their Master, "Shall we call down fire on
them from heaven, as did the prophet Elijah?" It
was a strange question. There was in it the pride of
miraculous power : they were confident that they could
have produced the lightning. Yet almost unconscious
ly they felt that their proposal was unchristlike ; for
they did not ask him to do it, but said, " Shall we call
down fire ?" Very significant was their appeal to Eli
jah. This prophet had once brought down fire from
heaven in Samaria ; and their thought was justified to
their own minds by appealing to so great an example.
Yet it was the old man in them that was speaking.
It was, indeed, the same provincial and fanatical spirit
as had spoken in the refusal of the Samaritans to enter
tain them. The old race hatred between Jews and
Samaritans had blazed up in their hearts, attempting
to wield the weapons of Christ and to wear the mantle
of Scripture. How often have such passions — between
Guelph and Ghibelline, for example, or between Ro
man-catholic and Orangeman — made the same attempt,
speaking the pious language of religion and quoting
the sanction of Scripture. Men have mistaken their
own evil passions for the inspiration of the Spirit of
God, and have believed themselves to be doing God
service when they have let loose the demons of perse
cution, harrying innocent countries with fire and sword,
and driving to the gallows and the stake men and
women often a thousand times better than themselves.
But Jesus at once put his foot on this strange fire,
with which his apostles sought to honor him. " Ye

ST. JOHN'S BESETTING SIN. 93
know not," he said, "what manner of spirit ye are
of." This may mean, " Ye know not what spirit has at
present possession of you ; you think it is the spirit of
religion, but it is the spirit of evil, masquerading in its
clothes." Or it may mean that they were yet imper
fectly acquainted with the spirit which, as his followers,
they ought to cultivate. They. had appealed to Elijah,
one of the foremost representatives of the old cove
nant ; but they ought to be aware that they were now
under a better covenant. The spirit of the old dispen
sation was legal and stern ; the spirit of the new was
love. " The Son of man came not to destroy men's
lives, but to save them."
This is the supreme rule and example ; although
they had not yet seen the supreme effort of their Mas
ter's forgiving love. If ever anyone was entitled to
feel resentment against his fellow- creatures, it was the
Son of God ; jusdy might he have cursed and blighted
the human race. But instead of doing so he gave his
life for the world. We may ourselves, like these surly
Samaritans, have refused to entertain him, keeping
him out of our heart and refusing to have him to reign
over us. Yet he has not ceased to love us ; he is still
waiting to be gracious. And it is when we have rec
ognized how magnanimous and forgiving he is to us
that we learn the lesson of forgiveness. Having ob
tained so great mercy we learn to be merciful.
It is strange to think that St. John was ever a prey
to such passions as ambition, intolerance, and perse
cuting zeal — he whose very name is now a synonym
for love. But it is an encouraging fact : it shows what

94 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
changes grace can work. Intercourse with Christ trans
figured St. John. Above all, he was altered by the
passion of his Lord : the sight of that self-sacrifice for
the sake of enemies made all resentful feelings die out
of him ; in the cross he saw that love alone is great,
and he could not hate his brother man any more.
The cross of Christ is the school of charity.

THE DISCIPLE WHO LOVED JESUS. 95

THE DISCIPLE WHO LOVED JESUS.

XXVII.

St. John was the disciple whom Jesus loved, but
he was also the disciple who loved Jesus. All the
disciples, with the exception of Judas, loved the Lord,
just as He loved them all ; but, as he bore to St. John
a peculiar love, so the love of this apostle for him was
peculiarly deep and faithful.
Of this, indeed, there is in the earlier passages of
St. John's history little evidence ; some passages even
appear to betray an unusually selfish temper. But his
affection for his Master must have been organizing
itself in the depths of his nature, and at length it broke
somewhat suddenly into flower. Sometimes love is
thus brought suddenly to a head. It may never have
been confessed, it may not even have come to con
sciousness in the heart itself till some unexpected turn
of circumstances supplies the opportunity, when all
at once it overflows the heart in a passion of desire,
and at the same time makes itself known by word or
act. Among such occasions misfortune is not an un
usual one. To see the person beloved in a position of
dire need calls forth chivalrous devotion ; reticence is
forgotten, and personal considerations are thrown to
the winds ; the lover stands forth, avowing his passion

96 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
before the world and ready to bear or to do anything
which the interests of the .object of his affection may
require. Such were the circumstances in which St
John's love for Jesus came to full maturity and mani
festation ; it was in the four-and-twenty hours before
the death on the cross that he showed how much he
loved the Saviour.
The first scene of the kind took place in the upper
room during the evening of the Last Supper, before
the Lord fell into the hands of his enemies.
The feet-washing had taken place, and, the dis
pute which had given occasion to it having been com
posed, the Twelve were at last arranged round the table
to begin the evening meal. They reclined on couches,
each resting on his left elbow with his feet outstretched
towards the back of the couch, so that the back of the
head of his next neighbor was at each one's breast.
St. John had the place immediately in front of Jesus,
on whose breast he therefore leaned. It was a place
apparently conceded instinctively to him by the rest,
perhaps expressly appointed by Christ himself. It
afforded opportunity, at all events, for closer fellowship
than was conceded to the others.
Jesus had produced peace among the Twelve ; but
he was not at peace within himself, and his conversation
could not flow as it did later in the evening. As the
dove shivers when the hawk appears in the sky, or the
horse stops and is bathed in perspiration when a snake
lies across its path, so the spirit of Jesus was troubled,
because in this scene about to be dedicated to friendship.
and religious exaltation there was an element entirely

THE DISCIPLE WHO LOVED JESUS. 97
foreign and hostile. With the false heart of Judas in
the room the spirits of Jesus could not rise ; and at
last he was forced to let out the secret : " Verily, verily,
I say unto you that one of you shall betray me."
The word fell like a bombshell among the guests,
and instandy every one looked into the eyes of his
neighbor to see the signs of guilt. Judas must have
had a mind thoroughly schooled in the art of dissimu
lation to be able to remain unmoved beneath these
searching glances ; but he did not betray himself with
the faintest blush or the least quiver of a lip. It speaks
well for the honest hearts of the rest that they had
never suspected him ; they were not forward to think
evil of a brother. Even now each rather doubted him
self; and they began to ask in turn, "Lord, is it I?"
At last, however, St. Peter, who happened to be
placed down the table at a distance from Jesus, signified
by a gesture to St. John to ask the Master who was to
be the betrayer. This was a significant act. It was
the acknowledgment by St. Peter of St. John's primacy
in the love and confidence of Christ. It was a tribute
from the man of action to the man of contemplation.
Those who are most prominent in the outer work of
the Church must sometimes be indebted to the less
conspicuous disciples, who lie in the bosom of the truth
and brood on its hidden mysteries.
St. John asked the question in a whisper. Jesus
might have kept the secret, sparing Judas till the last
moment, but he whispered back, " He it is to whom I
shall give a sop, when I have dipped it;" and he
gave it to Judas. Two now knew the terrible secret.
7

98 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
Jesus had relieved his heart of its burden by making
John partaker of it.
Judas knew that John knew ; and this may be why
it is said that, after the sop, Satan entered into him.
He had long been aware that Christ knew what was
going on in his mind, but he could keep his coun
tenance as long as his treachery was concealed from
his fellow-disciples. Now, however, when Jesus had
told John, he was unmasked ; and he was frantic. He
hated Jesus for telling ; he hated John for knowing ; and
when, immediately afterwards, he received the oppor
tunity from a word of Christ he rushed out to carry
into execution his diabolical design.
" And it was night," says the historian, with tragic
brevity. The son of darkness had entered his own
element and was reeling blindly down to his doom,
while within the chamber, now relieved of his presence,
all darkness vanished away, and during the hours
which ensued the disciples were sitting in the light
eternal. Of St. John especially may this be said. Are
not he and Judas the extreme opposites ? The same
incident which drove forth Judas to his fate installed
John more firmly than ever in the confidence and af
fection of his Master.

THE DISCIPLE WHO LOVED JESUS. 99

XXVIII.
The second scene in which the love of St. John
was displayed was immediately after the arrest of the
Lord. At the gate of Gethsemane, when Jesus fell into
the hands of the soldiers sent to take him, all the dis
ciples forsook him and fled. This may be a general
statement, admitting of exceptions ; just as the fourth
Gospel says, in reference to the words in which Christ
gave Judas his dismissal, " No man at the table knew
for what intent he spoke this unto him," although it is
manifest that St. John knew. In the same way this
disciple may be an exception to the statement that all
forsook their Master and fled. At all events, if St. John
fled, his desertion must have been of the briefest pos
sible duration ; because immediately afterwards he, with
St. Peter accompanying him, is seen following the pro
cession to the palace of the high-priest ; and he was in
time to pass into the house, in the rear of the proces
sion, before the gate was shut.
He had an advantage over his fellow-disciples
which served him in good stead upon this occasion —
he was known to the high-priest. In what way this
acquaintance had been formed we have no information ;
conjecture has, however, been busy to fill up the blank.
Some have found here an indication that the apostle
had higher family connections than his station in life
would naturally suggest, while others have thought

100 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
that he may have been known to the high-priest
through his business. There was a market in Jerusa
lem for the harvest of the Sea of Galilee ; and there is
no difficulty in believing that the family of Zebedee, or
the firm to which they belonged, may have had an
agency for the sale of their property in the capital.
We really know nothing whatever on the subject, be
yond the fact stated in the Gospel. Apparently, how
ever, John knew not only the high-priest but his ser
vants, and he was acquainted with the palace ; and his
familiarity in the place served as a passport, admitting
him to the close neighborhood of Christ, where he
wished to be. Had he, indeed, been more timid about
his own safety than anxious to be near his Master, the
fact that he was known to the high-priest might have
operated in precisely the opposite direction. He might
have been afraid of being recognized as a follower of
Jesus ; and his very hesitation might have led to the
consequences which he dreaded. Boldness in a critical
situation is half the battle ; and love made John bold.
In St. Peter we see the working of the opposite
state of mind. Perhaps from the first his heart was
rather with those who fled than with St, John ; but John
constrained him. Some hesitation at all events is indi
cated by the fact that he' was shut out of the palace
when St. John was shut in. But the more loving dis
ciple was eager to keep Peter up to the mark ; and so
he returned to the gate and secured his admission.
Thereby, however, he unwittingly did his friend an
injury. He was forcing on him an effort of testimony
for which he was not prepared; he was introducing

THE DISCIPLE WHO LOVED JESUS. IOI
him to a temptation which was too strong for his powers
of resistance ; and the result was disastrous.
Then was made manifest how far St. John was
ahead of St Peter. He probably attended the trial
throughout, and his silent presence was a support and
comfort to Jesus, while Peter was showing what extra
ordinary elements existed in him under the covering
of his Christian discipleship — profanity, falsehood and
selfish fear.
What made so great a difference ? Of two friends
of Alexander the Great the historian Plutarch calls one
Philo-Basileus, that is, the friend of the king, and the
other Philo- Alexandras, that is, the friend of Alexan
der. Similarly some one has said St. Peter was Philo -
Christos, the friend of the Christ, but St. John was
Philo-Jesus, the friend of Jesus. This touches the
quick: Peter was attached to the person who filled
the office of Messiah, John to the Person himself. And
this is a distinction which marks different types of
Christian piety in all ages. The Christ of some is more
official — the Head of the Church, the Founder of Chris
tianity, and the like — that of others is more personal ;
but it is the personal bond which holds the heart. The
most profoundly Christian spirits have loved the Sav
iour, not for his benefits, but for himself alone.

102 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XXIX.
It is probable that St. John attended Christ through
all the weary stages of his double trial — before the ec
clesiastical and the civil authorities— and that, after a
night thus spent, he accompanied the procession in the
forenoon to the place of execution and witnessed every
thing that followed. At all events in the afternoon
" there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother and his
mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary
Magdalene ;" and with these holy women, one of whom
was in all probability his own mother, stood St. John.
Striking it is that, in this hour of peril, when the
men of Christ's following were conspicuous only by
their absence, the women were so loyal and fearless ;
and the only man who stood with them was the most
womanly spirit in the apostolic company. But there is
an infinite difference between the feminine and the
effeminate. Woman may in some respects be weaker
than man, but she is stronger in love ; and it was in
the strength of his love that John was like a woman,
while in mind and character he was a thorough man.
The women may have been protected by their sex ; he
had no such protection, and yet he was there. No
doubt in the service of Christ all kinds of power are
necessary, and the masculine virtues have a part of
their own to play ; but for the supreme efforts of sacri
fice and devotion which Christianity requires it must
always ultimately depend on the strength of love.

THE DISCIPLE WHO LOVED JESUS. IO3
Amid the howling sea of evil passions with which
his cross was encompassed the dying eyes of the Sav
iour rested with a sense of profound relief on this little
group of loyal and loving hearts. But it is specially
told that his glances rested on his mother and his
favorite disciple. These were the two dearest souls to
him on earth, and his eyes lingered on them. It was
not, however, with unmixed satisfaction that he looked
on his mother. This was for her an hour of unspeak
able pain. It was not only that she was losing a son,
and such a son, but her faith in God was subjected
to a terrible strain. The event of her life had been the
birth of him who, the angel had told her, would sit on
the throne of his father David ; but here he was expir
ing, and this promise had not been fulfilled ! Was it
a lie ? The universe was swimming round her, and the
sword of which the aged Simeon had spoken was pierc
ing her soul. Besides, humbler anxieties about her
troubled her son. He had been her support ; but
where would she now find a home ? Who would now
cheer and comfort her? Her other sons were still un
believers. At last he spoke. Indicating St. John with his
eye, because he could not do it with his finger, he said
to Mary, " Woman, behold thy son ;" and, indicating
him in the same way to her, he said, " Behold thy mo
ther." Thus he gave them to one another, as mother and
son, with the solemnity with which in marriage hus
band and wife are given to each other, or as a dying
person may sometimes indicate to two, standing beside

104 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
the bed, that they ought to become one. They were
kindred spirits in many respects, and especially they
were one in their love to him. To none could Mary
speak so freely about her son as to this loving disci
ple ; from no one else could John learn so much as
from her about Him whom to know is, as he declares,
life eternal. To Mary this was a splendid gift. It assured to
her a home for the rest of her days in which she
would breathe the same peaceful and hallowed air as
Jesus had breathed into the home at Nazareth, and it
gave her the protection of a Greatheart to stand be
tween her and the world. To St. John it was a gift no
less precious. Mary, on her own account, would have
been an adornment to any home ; but, even if her pres
ence had involved inconvenience, she would still have
been thrice welcome to him as the mother of his di
vine Friend. Friend? Jesus had called his own mo
ther " thy mother ;" was not this to adopt him as a
brother ? This was a supreme honor : and all the trou
ble which it might involve was light to a heart which
loved with such fervor as his.

THE DISCIPLE WHO LOVED JESUS. 105

XXX.
It is generally supposed that at once St. John gen-
dy removed Mary from the scene of suffering and took
her to his house in the city, which was thenceforth to
be her home ; and there, it is said, he cherished her
for twelve years, refusing to leave Jerusalem, even for
the purpose of preaching the gospel, till she died. But
after he had safely deposited his precious charge in his
home he hurried back to Calvary. By this time all
was over. The execution was finished and the crowd
had dispersed. Only a few soldiers were left, watching
the bodies. St. John again, however, resumed his
station at the foot of the cross of his beloved Master.
His fidelity was rewarded with a sight which pro
foundly impressed him, and which he has recorded
with unusual solemnity. After narrating the incident
he adds, "And he that saw it bare record, and his
record is true ; and he knoweth that he saith true, that
ye might believe."
In Deuteronomy there is a law to this effect: " If
a man have committed a sin worthy of death, and he
be put to death, and thou hang him on a tree, his body
shall not remain all night upon the tree, but thou shalt
in any wise bury him that day (for he that is hanged
is accursed of God) ; that thy land be not defiled
which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inherit
ance." Perhaps this rule was not always observed,
and the Jews might be careless about it when execu-

106 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
tions in their country were carried out not by them
selves but by the Romans. But the death of Jesus
happened at a season when they were particularly
scrupulous about anything which might defile, especial
ly in the neighborhood of the Holy City. It was the
Passover, and they besought the governor to have the
bodies taken down and buried before sunset. Before
this could be done, however, it was necessary that they
should be dead ; and crucified persons did not die so
quickly. The Jews asked, therefore, that the life of
the three crucified men should be extinguished by
breaking their legs with clubs ; and the governor con
sented that this should be done. When, however, the
soldiers came to Jesus they perceived that he was dead
already; so that they did not break his legs. But,
by way of making assurance doubly sure, one of the
soldiers plunged his spear into his side, whereupon
there flowed out blood and water.
Such was the sight which so impressed the apos
tolic onlooker. But what was it which made it appear
to him remarkable ?
He recalled a word .of the Old Testament which
said, " A bone of Him shall not be broken." Origi
nally it referred to the paschal lamb ; and to St. John
the dead Saviour was thus pointed out as the true
Paschal Lamb, whose sacrifice should inagurate a new
dispensation of grace and truth, as the original paschal
lamb inaugurated the dispensation of the Law. Also
he recalled another Old Testament word, which said,
" They shall look upon Him whom they have pierced ;"
and there seemed to him to be a divine purpose guid-

THE DISCIPLE WHO LOVED JESUS. 107
ing even the hand of the rude soldier, when, totally
without his own will and knowledge, he brought the
mode of Christ's death into line with Old Testament
prophecy. But the mystery did not stop here. Probably St.
John was aware that from a dead body, if it is pierced,
there is, as a rule, no outflow ; but in this case there
flowed out blood and water. It was a mystery ; but
in it there seemed to be a symbol of much that Christ
had taught about himself. The cleansing of the world
from sin had been the purpose of his life ; and he had
spoken of the cleansing power of water and the cleans
ing power of blood. The two sacraments which he
instituted referred respectively to these two elements.
The dead body of Christ appeared to be a double
fountain, out of which was issuing what was required
for the purification of the world.
Modern medicine, however, believes that it sees
in the phenomenon which St. John has reported a
significance which even he did not perceive. Great
medical authorities allege that the stream of blood
and water shows that the heart of Christ had ruptured
at his death and the blood poured into an enclosing
sac, where it would naturally resolve into its elements —
one red like blood and the other white like water — and
that it was this sac which the spear emptied. So that
the Saviour literally died of a broken heart. The
pressure of grief, the pressure of the burden of sin
which he was bearing, so overcharged his heart that
it could no longer contain ; and, when it broke, he
died.

108 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
However this may be, St. John was amply re
warded for his vigil of love. Love kept him near
Christ living and dying; and to be near Christ is to
be in the place of discovery. We are reminded how
much we owe to St John for his faithful love as often
as we sing, " Let the water and the blood
From thy riven side which flowed
Be of sin the double cure:
Cleanse me from its guilt and power."

ST. JOHN AND THE RESURRECTION. IO9

ST. JOHN AND THE RESURRECTION.

XXX.
It is difficult for us to realize the dismay with
which the death and burial of Jesus affected his follow
ers. When we see him breathing his last, and the
stone rolled to the door of his sepulchre, we are not
afraid ; for we know what is going to happen — that on
the third day he is to rise again. At the time, how
ever, none knew this.
His enemies had, indeed, heard of his prophecies
to this effect, but ol course they did not believe them ;
and when they saw the spear thrust into his side they
thought that all was over with him and his cause : he
would never trouble them any more. His whole career
appeared to them ridiculous. He had been a candi
date for the grand office of the Messiah, whom the na
tion was expecting. There had, however, been other
candidates before him, whose attempts had come to
nothing; and his pretensions were perhaps the least
considerable of all. The Messiah whom they looked
for was to be a prophet, a priest and a king in one, but
most of all a king ; to liberate them from bondage and
lift up the country into everlasting power and renown.
Jesus of Nazareth had, in their eyes, utterly failed to
fulfil this ideal. He was of lowly birth, and his follow
ers were few and humble like himself; he made a repu-

I IO THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
tation for a time in the provinces, but never had aroused
the enthusiasm of Jerusalem ; at last, coming into col
lision with the authorities of the nation, he had gone
down without a single blow being struck on his be
half. His name was only one more added to the list of
fictitious messiahs.
Not only, however, did his enemies judge thus ;
the faith even of his friends was completely shattered.
It is true, he had told them repeatedly beforehand that
he was to die and the third day rise again. But these
statements had made no impression on their minds and
were no comfort to them when the crisis arrived: if
they noticed them at all, they thought that their Mas
ter was speaking in parables, and they understood his
words in a figurative sense. To the very last they be
lieved that he was to be a great king, reigning over
the house of Jacob for ever; and when his death ren
dered this impossible their faith was killed outright.
If it survived at all, it was in the form of love.
They still loved him. They might, indeed, have felt
that they had been deceived, and this feeling might
have made them turn with resentment upon the mem
ory of their buried Master ; but, with the exception of
Judas, they had been too completely captivated, and
their hearts could not quickly cool towards One whom
they had so many reasons for loving.
In Mary Magdalene we see this triumph of love
over the disenchantment of events. In tradition this
woman is identified not only with the woman who was
a sinner and anointed the feet of Jesus, but also with
Mary the sister of Martha and Lazarus ; so that the

ST. JOHN AND THE RESURRECTION. Ill
traditional image of her is exceedingly rich and affect
ing. In reality she is identical neither with the one of
these nor the other ; and what we know of her is but
limited. Seven devils went out of her at the command
of Jesus ; so that she had ample ground for deathless
gratitude to him. Apparently she was a lady of pi op-
erty ; for she, along with other honorable women, min
istered of her substance to Jesus. The position assigned
her among these women perhaps suggests that the
place which she held in his affection and confidence was
distinguished ; and this is still more forcibly suggested
by the interview accorded to her alone by the risen
Saviour. At all events we may infer the fervor of her
love from the fact that, after the Sabbath was past, she
set out for the tomb before the break of day.
But for what was she going to the sepulchre ?
Not to see if he had fulfilled his prophecy that he
would rise again, but to help to anoint his corpse for
its long sleep. When she arrived at the sepulchre she
saw the stone rolled away ; but what did this suggest
to her ? Not that he was risen ; of this she had not the
most distant surmise ; but that a horrible outrage had
been perpetrated on the feelings of all who loved him :
as she expressed it, " They have taken away the Lord,
and we know not where they have laid him."
That her state of mind was that of all the rest of
the followers of Jesus — an absolute blank, as far as any
thought or hope of his rising was concerned — is amply
proved. When the holy women to whom the risen
One had shown himself returned to their fellows, " their
words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed

112 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
them not." The report of the two to whom he ap
peared on the way to Emmaus met with a similar re
ception ; and what could more significantly indicate
the general state of mind than the pathetic words of
those two themselves before he was made known to
them : " We trusted that it had been he who should
have redeemed Israel." Thomas' determination not to
believe is well known ; and even of the five hundred
to whom the Lord showed himself in Galilee " some
doubted." In short, the universal belief among his fol
lowers, when he was lying in Joseph's tomb, was, that
his career was over and his enterprise at an end.

ST. JOHN AND THE RESURRECTION. 113

XXXI.
There are few things which move human beings
more than the suspicion that there has taken place any
tampering with the remains of their dead. An entire
community can be convulsed with indignation at the
mere rumor that a grave has been disturbed. Mary
Magdalene was under the impression that the tomb of
her beloved Lord had been rifled ; and it was in a
tumult of grief and indignation that she ran to bring
word to the disciples.
She directed her steps to Peter and John ; and
soon she had them in earnest consultation on the sub
ject. Whether Peter's denial of his Lord was known
to Mary Magdalene or not, we cannot tell ; but there
can be little doubt that it was known to John, who was
in the palace of the high-priest at the time when it
took place. But this knowledge did not prevent John
from meeting his comrade on the old terms. Possibly
Peter, after weeping bitterly by himself, had sobbed
out. his contrition on the bosom of the disciple whom
Jesus loved ; and John's forgiveness may have been to
him a confirmation of the forgiveness of the Lord.
Mary Magdalene's communication awoke in the
two apostles a tumult of emotion as great as her own :
they thought that the enemies of their Master, not con
tent with the shame and injustice wreaked on him dur
ing his trial and crucifixion, had, in anger that he should
have been laid by loving hands in an honorable grave,

114 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
perpetrated on his corpse some new indignity ; and
they immediately set out to the spot to ascertain what
had taken place. As they went, so hot were their hearts
within them that they began to run; and soon they
were running at full speed. There are moments in life
when decorum is thrown to the winds, and everything
is cast aside which stands in the way of an overmaster
ing purpose. It shows how wild was the grief of the
apostles, that they thus flew to their object.
In this crisis, when nature had her way with them,
the characteristic differences between the two men
showed themselves. The " other disciple did outrun
Peter and came first to the sepulchre." Why Was this ?
It has been conjectured that it was because Peter was
older : John had the lightness and fleetness of youth.
Or it has been thought that Peter was delayed by his
penitence, the memory of his denial clogging his feet
like a weight of lead. This motive would only have
acted, however, had he thought that he was on his way
to a meeting with Jesus, and there is not the slightest
reason for thinking that any such expectation had
crossed his mind. It was because John was the disciple
of love that he arrived first at the sepulchre ; for love
lends wings, and its tension gave John the advantage.
At the sepulchre, however, Peter's temperament
gave him the advantage. John, though he arrived first,
remained outside. The stone was rolled away, but awe
arrested him at the threshold ; and all he ventured to
do was, with hand over eyes, to gaze into the obscu
rity ; and from this standpoint he could not see all that
required to be seen in order to learn the true state of

ST. JOHN AND THE RESURRECTION. 1 1 5
the case. Like Mary Magdalene, he saw in the rocky
opening the sign of a deed of darkness, instead of the
passage through which hope was about to break. But
Peter, when he arrived, at once went in and encouraged
John to follow. This was like the practical spirit of the
man, who was not impeded with the finer sensibilities
of his comrade ; and on this occasion, at least, such
boldness was what was required.
In the spiritual life, as in the natural, ghosts are fre
quently laid by boldly advancing on them. Only enter
what looks like the yawning mouth of calamity, and
you may find yourself in the sunshine of glorious dis
covery. Many a one, for example, is trembling before
the spectre of religious doubt who, if he would only
go forward, determined to find out exactly how much
is in the objections which he fears, would discover that
they melt away when closely examined, and in the very
place haunted by them he would find the strongest
confirmation of faith. Is not death to many all their
lifetime like a gloomy opening into the unknown, be
fore which they fear and quake ? Yet if they would
boldly examine the reasons why they fear, and the rea
sons which a Christian has for despising death, or even
glorying in it, they might be emancipated from their
bondage and enabled to serve the Lord with gladness
and singleness of heart.
Let us take John for our instructor in the swiftness
of love, and Peter for our teacher in courage.

Il6 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XXXII.
So the two apostles stood inside the sepulchre.
An ancient tomb was a spacious place, in which it was
possible to stand erect and to move about ; and, when
their eyes had become accustomed to the obscurity, or
they had placed themselves in a position to obtain the
help of the light streaming in through the open door
way, they saw what astonished them.
The body, indeed, was not there ; but objects pre
sented themselves to view which at once exploded the
hypothesis to account for its absence which Mary Mag
dalene had suggested, and with which their minds had
been preoccupied as they ran to the sepulchre. The
grave-clothes were lying where the body had been.
Why should these have been left behind if the body
had been stolen ? If in wanton rage his enemies had
stripped them off there would have been evidence of
violence in their torn and disarrayed condition. But
the reverse was the state of the case. The clothes were
lying in perfect order, as if they had been put off in a
leisurely and orderly way by him who had worn them.
And their attention was particularly arrested by a fact
trivial in itself, but in the circumstances most signifi
cant : they espied the napkin with which the head of
the dead was wont to be bound not lying with the rest
of the grave-clothes, but wrapped together in a place
by itself. In what garments the risen humanity of our Lord

ST. JOHN AND THE RESURRECTION. 1 17
was invested when he appeared from time to time dur
ing the forty days we are not informed, nor need we
inquire ; but obviously it would have been most unbe
coming that he should have continued to wear the vest
ments of a dead man. Accordingly, before he left the
tomb he divested himself of these. And is there not
something which we feel to be worthy of him, though
we can hardly tell why, in this little touch : that he
folded up the napkin, in which his face had been en
veloped by loving hands, and laid it carefully aside ?
In this and in the other features of the scene St.
John, with the quick discernment of love, recognized
the handwriting of his Master ; and there and then the
truth flashed through him — " he saw and believed."
This statement appears to assign him again a priority
over his companion, whom perhaps he had to instruct
in the significance of the phenomena at which they
were looking.
This was the most revolutionary moment of their
lives, though both of them experienced other moments,
both before and after, of vast importance. There,
standing alone in the tomb in the morning light, they
saw the glory of their Master as they had not seen it
even on the Mount of Transfiguration ; and they saw, in
a flash, the course of their own future history. The
disappointment and despair of Christ's death were
transmuted, in a moment, into unspeakable joy : for
they saw that their Master had not deceived them ; that
his death was not defeat, but a step in his triumph ;
and that his cause was not at an end, but only begin
ning. They recalled his sayings about his rising again

Il8 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
the third day and wondered how they could have for
gotten or misinterpreted them — perhaps also they be
gan to recall some words of the Old Testament scrip
tures which they were afterwards to quote, with telling
effect, in reference to his resurrection; for St. John
expressly says that till this revolutionary moment they
knew not the Scripture, that he should rise from the
dead. In great crises of experience the mind is preternatu-
rally active and into minutes can crowd the thinking of
years. Of course afterwards these thoughts were to be
far more fully cleared and developed ; the apostles were
also to receive far more convincing evidence of the
Lord's resurrection than the aspect of his empty tomb ;
yet it is not too much to say that, before they passed
out of that rocky door, which, as they approached it,
had struck into their hearts such cold and deadly
terror, they were changed into new men, and had re
ceived into their souls the seeds of all which they sub
sequently achieved.

ST. JOHN AND THE RESURRECTION. I ig

XXXIII.
Such was the power of the resurrection over the
hearts and minds of the apostles. And it still has the
same power, when it is properly realized. There is
perhaps no other point in the whole circle of Christian
truth to which in times of intellectual darkness inquir
ing spirits may so hopefully turn.
If Christ rose from the dead, then there can be no
doubt that the scheme of Christianity as a whole is true.
What confirmation, for example, does the resurrection
lend to the miracles of Christ! This is the greatest
miracle ; and, if it happened, any of the rest may have
happened. What a reality it imparts, too, to the world
invisible, and to the life to come ! If Christ rose, to
begin a new stage of existence in another region of the
universe, then heaven is not a dream, or a land of
shadows, but actual as this earth on which we tread,
and all that the Bible says about immortality receives
the strongest confirmation.
The resurrection of Christ is, it is true, a stupen
dous event, only to be credited on the most stringent
evidence. But in both quantity and quality the proof
is overwhelming. First, there is the testimony of those by whom he
was seen alive after his passion. It is thus summarized
by St Paul : " He rose again the third day according to
the Scriptures ; and he was seen of Cephas ; then of
the Twelve ; after that he was seen of above five hun-

120 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
dred brethren at once, of whom the greater part remain
unto this present, but some are fallen asleep ; after that
he was seen of James ; then of all the apostles ; and, last
of all, he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due
time." The detailed records of the Evangelists are still
more impressive ; and the character of the witnesses is
for truthfulness above suspicion. What is said by those
who disbelieve their testimony is that they were in an
excited state of mind, and anxious to believe, and that
their hopes created the appearances which they thought
they saw. Nothing, however, is more remarkable in all
the accounts than the evidence that they had no expec
tation whatever that he was to rise. Is it not manifest
that Mary Magdalene, Peter and John had their minds
preoccupied with a theory totally opposed to resur
rection ? Others, even after they were informed that
he had risen, were thoroughly skeptical. Instead of
being ready to be imposed upon by any suggestion of
the fancy, they were in a state of mind to resist any
evidence, however strong. Besides, what kind of fanci
ful appearance could have simultaneously imposed upon
so many different persons in so many different places
and circumstances? In their desperation to account
for the facts some of the more devout believers in the
literal truth of the resurrection have actually resorted
to the notion that God allowed a kind of ghostly image
of Jesus to appear to the different persons concerned ;
but surely this is more difficult to believe than the res
urrection itself.
The mere testimony of those who saw the risen
One is not, however, all the proof. When, immedi-

ST. JOHN AND THE RESURRECTION. 121
ately after the ascension, Christianity began to run its
victorious course amidst the influences of Pentecost, the
central theme of apostolic testimony was the resurrec
tion ; and the scene of the earliest preaching was Jeru
salem. What Peter and his companions told the Jeru-
salemites was, that he whom they had condemned as
a blasphemer and hanged on a tree had been raised up
by God, who, by so exalting him, had placed on his
claims the seal of heaven. This testimony brought the
apostles into collision with the ecclesiastical authorities,
who were concerned to repel the heresy which so dis
credited themselves. If Jesus had not risen, how easy
it would have been to confute the preachers. The
grave in which he had been laid was at hand ; had the
Jewish authorities been able to open the sepulchre, and
show the body lying there, the apostles would have
been silenced effectually and forever. Why did the
authorities not do so? It will not now be said that
the disciples had stolen the body.
The strongest proof of all, however, has yet to be
mentioned. Convincing as the testimony of the apostles
is, it is nothing at all compared with the evidence of
their conduct There cannot be a doubt that, when
the Master expired and was put beneath the ground,
the minds of his followers were in the lowest depths
of depression and despair. They had been disap
pointed, if not deceived ; the cause to which they had
attached themselves had failed ; and now all was over.
They were without a head or a plan ; and nothing re
mained for them but to return to their lowly occupations
disillusioned and discredited men. Yet, a few weeks

122 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
thereafter, they were before the public, full of convic
tion and enthusiasm, declaring that Christianity was not
ended, but only beginning. What had wrought this
change? It may be said, they were committed to
Christianity, and could not forego the ambitions so long
cherished in connection with it or return to their unex
citing pursuits. The remarkable thing, however, is,
that they were not now pursuing earthly ambitions ;
they knew they were not to gain the world, but suffer
its enmity and opposition ; and in point of fact they
went cheerfully to prison and to death. They were
transfigured men ; no longer ignorant and vacillating,
but wise, spiritual and determined. What had wrought
this change ? They say themselves that it was the res
urrection ; and what else could have done it ? This
resurrection of Christianity is a miracle in some re
spects more remarkable than even the resurrection of
Christ; and nothing but Christ's resurrection can ac
count for it.

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 123

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN.

XXXIV.

St. John shared with the other apostles the priv
ilege of seeing several of the appearances of the risen
Lord during the forty days ; but in one of them he
played a conspicuous part. This took place at the
Sea of Galilee, and the scene is described with great
fulness in the last chapter of his own gospel.
There hangs over this story an air of mystery.
Indeed, some of the details have, at first sight, the
appearance of irrelevance, if not mystification. This,
however, is no rare occurrence in this gospel. One of
the peculiarities of St. John as a writer is that now and
then he puts down, with an air of simplicity, sentences
which appear to have nothing in them at all, or at all
events nothing relevant to the occasion. But, as the
reader, after repeated trials, is turning away in disap
pointment and, perhaps, a kind of resentment, sudden
ly, from a sharp angle of vision, something flashes out
on him and, turning back, he discovers it to be a clue
by which he is guided into spacious treasuries of truth,
where the difficulty is not that there is no meaning,
but that the meaning is too manifold.
In the present case the key seems to lie in the
word "showed," which occurs twice in the opening

124 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
verse — "After these things Jesus showed himself again
to the disciples at the Sea of Tiberias; and on this
wise showed he himself." In Greek this is a striking
word, and apparently conveys more than that he made
himself visible : it means that he made a fresh revela
tion of himself to them, showing himself in a new light
or in a new character. They saw on this occasion in
their risen Lord traits which were peculiarly fascinating
and impressive. One of these was a trait of tender humanity — his
attachment to the scenes of his earthly experiences.
The disciples had themselves returned to Galilee
from the south with a delightful sense of coming home.
Probably to their provincial minds Jerusalem had
always been formidable. Its pride repelled them, its
Sadducean coldness and Pharisaic formalism chilled
them to the bone. During their last visit this repulsion
had reached a climax, for their feelings had been put
under an excessive strain, and their days and nights
had passed in excitement and horror. At last, indeed,
a great light had burst forth upon them in the re
surrection of their Lord ; but as yet it was a light
which dazzled even more than it cheered; and their
hearts craved for solitude, that they might collect
themselves and consider what was the drift of their
strange experiences. Now they were back in Galilee
and standing on the shore of the lake, the scene of
their accustomed adventures in former days. There
were the mountains and the blue waters ; there were
the boats and nets of their relatives, which had once
been their own; the old feelings suddenly awoke in

1 \ ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 1 25
them, and when Peter, who felt these most keenly, said,
" I go a-fishing," they were all ready to chime in, " We
also g!o with thee." Soon they were afloat, with the
sails throbbing above their heads, the water rushing be
neath the keel, and the fresh breeze blowing all doubts
away out of their brains.
But Jesus had preceded them to Galilee. So the
angel "told the holy women at the sepulchre — " Go
your way, tell his disciples and Peter that he goeth
before you into Galilee." This no doubt was partly due
to the fact that a majority of his adherents belonged
to the northern province and he intended to show him
self to them alive, as he subsequently did on the moun
tain where he had appointed them. But there was an
other reason. In some respects the risen Christ was
altered; the form of his humanity and the mode of
his movements from place to place are enveloped in
mystery. But one exceedingly human trait appears to
be unmistakable : he displayed a marked predilection
for the spots which had been the scenes of his former
activity. To him Jerusalem had been intensely dear,
whatever it was to the disciples, and he lingered in it,
instructing the apostles at the very last to begin the
evangelization of the world there. Bethany, where
Mary, Martha and Lazarus lived, had been to him an
earthly home, and he led out his disciples at the last
as far as Bethany, and there he took his parting look
of the world. But Galilee seems to have been the chief
scene of his forty days' sojourn. It was the country
of his childhood and youth ; and in it had been achieved
his earthly successes. The Sea of Galilee especially

126 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
had been the centre of his ministry. There! he had
called his disciples ; he had preached out of the boat on
its shore ; he had moved backwards and forward^ from
one side to another on his journeys ; on its surface he
had walked to the rescue of his disciples by night ;. with
in sight of it he had been followed by enthusiastic and
thankful multitudes. Long it had been the focus of his
thoughts and feelings ; and now it draws him back.
This shows how human he was even in his resur
rected state ; and it brings him near to us. This cling
ing to the past is characteristic of human nature ; how
ever far we may wander, our hearts turn fondly to the
scenes of former experiences — to the home of our child
hood, to the spots where we have loved, triumphed and
suffered. Few sentiments are more sacred than these ;
if we completely yielded to them they might bring us
to Jesus. May we not, besides, justly interpret his return to
these scenes as a proof that the departed still retain
an interest in the world to which they have belonged ?
Even the beatific vision will not blot out of the mem
ory the charities of this earth. Heaven and earth may
be far more alike than is supposed.

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 127

XXXV.
Another light in which Jesus revealed himself
to the disciples on this occasion was as the Providence
of their lives.
In spite of the eagerness with which they had es
sayed the fisherman's life again, yet that night they
caught nothing. It looked as if their hands had lost
their cunning. But this disappointment gave Jesus his
opportunity. It was against the background of their
failure that the divineness of his foresight shone out.
So it is often. Many a man has been prepared for the
visit of Christ by the ruin of his schemes and the
break-down of his hopes. If it had always gone well
with us, if the world had been entirely to our liking,
and we had got everything our own way, we might
never have felt any need of him. But when we had
toiled all night and taken nothing, and were returning
worn out and weary in the empty boat, there he was
on the shore with assistance ready. And surely it is
better to lose all and win him than to be so satisfied with
our own success as to forget the heavenly inheritance.
As soon as Jesus took the oversight of their opera
tions, and they cast out the net where he indicated,
their labor, which had all night been so bootless, im
mediately became brilliantly profitable : they secured a
take of a hundred and fifty and three, all large fishes ;
and, for all there were so many, yet was not the net
broken. If God comes nigh in the crisis of disappoint-

128 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
ment, surely also he is present in the hour of success.
It is through his blessing that any labor of ours is prof
itable. It would be a shame if it were only through
privation we could be affected, and if we had no per
ception of the divine hand in the gifts of life.
Jesus did not, however, merely give them abun
dance of fish and then leave them to enjoy what they
had taken. When they came ashore they found a fire
with fish laid thereon, and bread. Commentators have
puzzled over the question where these came from. Did
angels bring them ? or did Jesus create them ? or did
he buy them or beg them from friends on shore ?
What does it matter ? It is enough that he provided
them, as the fisherman's wife has a fire ready to warm
her. husband, along with the other comforts he re
quires, when he returns from his cold night's toil.
What a practical, everyday Christ ! He does not allow
those who look to him to lack any good thing. He is
the Saviour of the body no less than of the soul. God
liness has the promise of the life which now is, as well
as of that which is to come.
He invited them to bring of the fish which they
had caught, to furnish the meal more sumptuously.
Then, assuming the place of entertainer, he made them
all sit down and with his own hands distributed among
them the blessings provided.
It is very probable that these proceedings had a
special bearing on the circumstances of the disciples
at the time. Long before this, when he was calling
them "first to be his disciples, and they were naturally
troubled about where support for themselves and their

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 1 29
families was to come from, he taught them by a sim
ilar miracle how confidently they might depend on him
while engaged in his service. But at this crisis the
lesson required to be taught over again. Hitherto he
had himself been with them, and his popularity had
insured them against want ; for those who had received
his miraculous aid ministered to him of their substance,
and the bag which Judas carried, if seldom overflowing,
was never empty. Now, however, when he was away,
would not the stream of supplies run dry ? Very soon
they were to be sent forth to preach the gospel ; and
they needed the assurance that their daily bread would
not fail. So Jesus had once more to show them that
all the resources of the world belonged to him.
While, however, he had this special end in view,
we can, besides, say in general that the role thoroughly
suited him. He delighted, when in the midst of his
own, to be the Entertainer. It is astonishing in his life
to note how often he was present at feasting, and how
frequently in his teaching he made use of images bor
rowed from this section of human life. "The Son of
man came eating and drinking." He appreciated the
uniting and sweetening power of hospitality ; and he
thereby left to his followers an example which they
have been slow to learn. Hospitality is a Christian
virtue, and it is one of the most effective modes of
evangelization. Few efforts for the good of others are
more fitted to be effective than when Christian men
and women of standing invite to their tables the young
and the humble, who see there the culture and the
charm of a Christian home. 9

130 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
But there was more in his love of the entertainer's
place. It was the expression of a nature conscious of
its ability to distribute. He felt himself full of what
was needed to satisfy and enrich the world. It is not
for nothing that in the chief sacrament of his church he
shows himself to all the ages in this character. In
the Lord's Supper he is the entertainer. And whom
does he invite? He follows his own maxim: "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 again, and a recom
pense be made thee ; but when thou makest a feast, call
the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind ; and thou
shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee."
Such are his guests. " This Man receiveth sinners and
eateth with them."

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 131

XXXVI.
Before looking at the other ways in which Jesus
revealed himself on this occasion we may pause to
mark what impression he was making on the disciples.
The effectiveness of a revelation depends on the appre
hension of it in the minds of those to whom it is ad
dressed, no less than on its intrinsic importance.
At first the disciples did not recognize at all with
whom they had to do — "Jesus stood on the shore, but
the disciples knew not that it was Jesus." It was in the
grey of the morning that he appeared ; and the imper
fect light may have had something to do with this.
But no doubt, also, their work absorbed them. Had
they been assembled for prayer in an upper room, or
had it been the Sabbath, they might have recognized
him at once ; but they did not expect him to visit them
when they were engaged in business. The week-day
Christ is not so easily recognized as the Sabbath-day
Christ. On the sacred day we go to his house for the
purpose of meeting him, and we put on our Sabbath
clothes for the interview ; but, if he meets us when we
are in our work-a-day dress, if he is standing by while
we drive our bargains, or if he comes into our homes
in the hours of social mirth — and he does all these
.things — we are probably unprepared, and let him pass
unnoticed. In the kind question, "Children, have ye any
meat ?" or at least in the order to cast the net on the

132 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
right side of the ship, they might surely have recognized
him. But I have been told by a friend well acquainted
with the sea that it is sometimes possible for one stand
ing on the shore to detect by a peculiar ripple on the
surface of the water the presence of fish at a spot where
those on the water see no indication. This may have
prevented them from suspecting anything more than
the hint of a shrewd observer.
It was only when the miraculous haul filled the net,
recalling an early experience of the same kind, that the
truth flashed through the mind of St. John ; and, after
casting a single reassuring look landwards, he whis
pered to St. Peter, " It is the Lord." It only required
a glance to satisfy Peter ; and, hastily drawing on an
upper garment, that he might not appear before the
Lord in unbecoming guise, he sprang into the water
and swam ashore, leaving boat, fish, comrades — every
thing — behind.
The entire scene is eminently characteristic. It
was St. John, the man of affection and insight, who
discerned Christ first; it was St. Peter, the man of
passion and energy, who reached him first. Each was
before the other in one respect, and both were the
leaders of the rest.
It is a picture of the Church's life in all times. Be
lievers are not all alike gifted, but all belong to the one
body and are intended to serve it with their different
powers. There are outstanding men needed to be
leaders, and these possess diverse qualifications. Some
are the eyes of the body — these are the Johns. Others
are its hands and feet — these are the Peters. The

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 133
highest function is that of the Johns — they are the seers,
to apprehend new revelations, to point out the divine
in common life, to discern the new path along which
Christ is moving and calling the Church to follow. But
only second in importance are the Peters — the men of
enterprise and action, who advance in front of the ship
and show the way. They lean on the Johns, being in
debted to them for eyes, but the Johns are also de
pendent on them ; as the national poet, who has struck
out the note of liberty and made it vibrate in every
heart, has to wait for the practical statesman or general
who will arise to embody his dreams in deeds. Happy
is the church when there are vouchsafed to her leaders
of both sorts ; she is happiest when she possesses them
together, united in friendship as were John and Peter
then, or as at the Reformation were Melancthon and
Luther. The rest of those in the boat followed, dragging the
full net to the shore, where they shared the privileges
of the leaders. " And none of the disciples durst ask
him, Who art thou? knowing that it was the Lord."
Apparently there was a difference in his appearance
which might have justified such a question, but the
evidence of the scene as a whole and the impression of
his presence were too strong to leave room for any
objections. Even Thomas, the doubter, who was one
of the group of seven, was convinced.
To us, who walk by faith and not by sight, the
evidence of religion can never be such as to make
doubt absolutely impossible, but it is often strong
enough to exclude reasonable doubt. There must be

134 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
few who cannot remember some incidents in their own
experience which produced an overwhelming impres
sion of God — such as a marvellous escape from danger,
or the recovery of a relative from the jaws of death, or
a deliverance from what seemed a fatal business diffi
culty, or the unexpected opening up of a path to use
fulness and honor. There are many such incidents
which inevitably produce on a healthy mind the im
pression of a presiding Providence. Others may de
bate whether the thing cannot be explained by natural
causes, but the man whose secret it is cannot ask : he
carries it through life as a token of the divine love and
care, and as often as he recalls it he says, " It is the
Lord." Far stronger still, however, is the conviction
springing out of a lifelong walk with Christ. Outsiders
may venture to explain this away, attributing to the
man's own fineness of natural disposition the holiness
by which he is distinguished ; but he who knows what
he is in himself, and what grace has done for him, is as
certain as he is of his own existence that " it is the
Lord."

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 1 35

XXXVII.
A third peculiarity of Christ revealed on this
occasion was the absoluteness of his claim on the love
and loyalty of his followers.
This of course came out most conspicuously in
the noted scene when he thrice asked Peter, " Lovest
thou me ?" which, however, we must here pass by. But
it came out also in a subsequent scene in which St.
John was directly involved. After restoring St. Peter
to his apostolic mission, Jesus said unto him, " Follow
me," and apparently moved away from the rest of the
group. In obedience to this command St. Peter fol
lowed, and, without receiving a command, St. John did
the same. St. Peter, hearing St. John's step behind him,
turned and said to Jesus, "And what shall this man
do ?" or, more simply, " And what of this man ?"
The motive of this question has been much dis
cussed. Some have ascribed it to irritation, as if St.
Peter objected to his tete-a-tete with the Saviour being
disturbed by the intrusion of a third party. Others
have assumed the very opposite motive — that it was out
of brotherly regard for St. John's welfare that he spoke.
Jesus had just intimated to himself, under the veil of a
figure of speech, by what death he should glorify God ;
and, vaguely at least, he had understood the warning.
Now he asks, What of my friend : is he, too, to die the
martyr's death ?
That there was in the question an allusion to St.

136 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
John's future is manifest from the answer. Yet the
motive was a more subtle one. The close dealing with
his conscience, when Christ asked, " Lovest thou me?"
had been painful in the extreme to St. Peter. Yet Je
sus was nqw walking him away by himself; and for
what purpose ? Was it to press him with still more
home-coming question, too sacred for the rest to
hear? St. Peter was afraid of it; and this turning
round to St. John, to put the question about his future,
was an attempt to draw him into the colloquy ; for a
third in a conversation acts as screen to keep off too
searching and personal topics. So he asked an idle
question, apparently in anxiety about the fortunes of
his friend, but really for the purpose of escaping too
close contact with Jesus.
Thus almost unawares does the mind often try to
avoid Christ, when he is coming near the conscience.
At the well of Sychar, when our Lord was probing the
conscience of the Samaritan woman, she attempted to
divert the drift of the conversation by raising an eccle
siastical discussion : " Our fathers worshipped in this
mountain, and ye say that Jerusalem is the place where
men ought to worship." This was a subject on which
logic might have been chopped forever, and during the
operation what directly concerned her would have
dropped out of sight. And similarly, when conversa
tion threatens to approach personal religion, people
will, if they are allowed, drift off to questions of the idly
curious kind. Even in their own minds men put up
such themes to shield themselves from the pressure of
the claims of Christ. There are always afloat in the

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 137
atmosphere of public discussion problems which can
be used for this purpose. Darwinism, the Higher
Criticism, Future Punishments, or the like — a man will
puzzle about one of these and imagine he is studying
religion, when in reality he is using his difficulties as
an excuse for refusing to come to close quarters with
Christ and obey the voice of the Holiest. It is possible
to have a great deal to do with the outside of religion,
and to enjoy religious service in which we form part
of the multitude, while we carefully avoid meeting
with God in secret and would dread the full light of
omniscience turned upon our conduct.
In spite of St. Peter's headlong rush through the
water to get to Jesus, he was far from being as confi
dential with him as St. John ; for the close and lonely
intercourse which he was shirking would have been to
St. John the height of enjoyment.

138 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XXXVIII.
On this occasion Jesus manifested his authority
over his disciples, assigning to each his own work and
his own destiny.
He met the idle question of the disciple with a
sharp rebuke — " What is that to thee ? follow thou me."
He was offended at Peter's levity. The questions put
to the backslider about his love ought to have driven
him in upon himself and made him sober and silent ;
but, instead of being thus absorbed, he was starting
curious inquiries about things with which he had noth
ing to do.
"There are two great vanities in man," says a
deep student of human nature, "with respect to
knowledge — the one a neglect to know what it is our
duty to know, and the other a curiosity to know what
it does not belong to us to know." And in no other
sphere is this so true as in religion. At those solemn
moments when Christ is distinctly calling and a decisive
step which would change the whole course of the life
is possible, how common it is, instead of replying sim
ply and honestly, to turn round and ask, " What are
others doing ? what would my neighbors say ?" When
opportunities of usefulness arise, and Providence is in
viting us to seize them, what do we say ? Is it, " Here
am I, send me," or is it, "What are others going to
do ?" In giving, for example, to schemes for the spread
of the gospel, or for the amelioration of the world, how

ST. JOHN AT HOME AGAIN. 139
rare it is to ask simply, " What can I give? how much
would God wish me to give ? what ought one blessed
with as much as I have been to give ?" but how com
mon to look round and ask, " What are others giving ?"
Thus measuring ourselves by ourselves, and comparing
ourselves among ourselves, we are not wise. Our
whole experience is stunted by this habit of asking
what others are going to do. " What is that to thee?
follow thou me."
The reference to St.' John's future in the words,
" If I will that he tarry till I come," may contain a hint
that the apostle whom Jesus loved was to be long
spared and to escape the martyrdom destined for St.
Peter, but the only thing which the words expressly
imply is that St. John's destiny was not the affair of
St. Peter, but was taken by Jesus into his own hand.
This saying has been quoted as a proof that Jesus
expected his second coming to take place soon, as his
early followers expected it ih their own lifetime ; and
it is added that events disappointed his expectation, as
theirs is usually reckoned a weakness. But the weak
ness lies elsewhere. The attitude of the apostolic
Church was the right one — the attitude of a servant
on the watch, not knowing at what hour his lord may
come. The date of Christ's coming depends on the
faithfulness and success of the Church. So far as we
are informed, he might have come even in the lifetime
of his first disciples, had the faithfulness of the Church
been perfect
It is another illustration of how much easier idle
curiosity is to the human mind than either accurate

14O THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
knowledge or plain duty that in consequence of this
saying the rumor spread that St. John should not die.
It not only did so at the time, but lasted long. It was
said that, though buried, he was not dead, but only
asleep ; and St. Augustine mentions persons in his day
who alleged that they had seen the earth moving
above his grave. Indeed, down almost to our own time,
the same superstition has reappeared every now and
then in one grotesque form after another.
But the evangelist expressly emphasizes the fact
that Jesus did not say he was not to die, but, " If I
will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee ?"

ST. JOHN IN THE PENTECOSTAL AGE. 141

ST. JOHN IN THE PENTECOSTAL AGE

XXXIX.

St. John's name holds a prominent place in the list
of the followers of Jesus who, as we are told in the first
chapter of the Book of Acts, were assembled in an
upper room in Jerusalem immediately after the Ascen
sion. What were they doing there ? They were waiting.
They had been told by their departing Lord that they
were to be endued with power from on high, and then
their work as his witnesses would begin. What exactly
this promise meant they did not know ; but they were
waiting to see. Already they were in possession of all
the facts which were to form the theme of their testi
mony: they had been assured by many infallible
proofs that Jesus was alive ; they had seen him ascend
to sit at the right hand of God ; they knew that it
was to be the task of their life to make these facts
known. Still they lacked something. Their Master
had forbidden them to appear as his witnesses till the
Holy Spirit should come upon them. So they waited.
They had time to think, and to arrange in their minds
the remarkable experiences through which they had
been passing. They had time to pray, and their pray
ers deepened their sense of need. The magnitude of
their task expanded before their imagination, as they

142 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
contemplated it; and they wondered(the more what the
mysterious influence was to be by which they should
be qualified for executing it.
At length the hour of Providence struck, and the
promise of the exalted Saviour was fulfilled, when, on
the Day of Pentecost, in rushing mighty wind and
tongues of fire, the Spirit descended on them. Not only
was the conversion of three thousand, which immedi
ately followed, due to this divine gift, but the whole
drama of the Book of Acts — the miracles, the sermons,
the extension of Christianity, the creation of institutions,
the emergence of remarkable personalities, the triumph
over opposition, which this book records — all are the
results of the fulfilment of the promise of Christ to send
the Holy Spirit. As man after man comes to the front —
apostie or deacon, evangelist or prophet — one after
another is described as " full of the Holy Ghost ;" and
this is the secret of the wonders performed. That
Pentecostal age was a glorious epoch of originality,
gladness and formative influence ; but the inward energy
by which the movement in all its developments was
sustained and carried forward was the Holy Spirit.
St. John was in the very midst of these events.
He, if anyone, was, in those Pentecostal days, full of
the Holy Ghost. The divine power poured through
him; gladness filled his heart; he was a prominent
actor in all that was taking place ; and he was in com
plete sympathy with what others were doing. His
name does not, indeed, occur often, nor are there any
incidents in which he is the principal figure; but the
occasions on which he is mentioned are enough to give

ST. JOHN IN THE PENTECOSTAL AGE. 143
a notion of the experiences of a great time and to show
that he played in it an important part.
One of the first scenes in which he is mentioned is
the miraculous cure of a lame man.
St. John and St. Peter used daily to go up to the
temple at the hour of prayer ; and one day, as they
did so, they passed a lame man, laid at the Gate
Beautiful to beg for alms. The cripple was about forty
years of age and had long been wont to beg there,
the ugliness of his deformity contrasting with the beauty
of the pillar against which he rested, and his helpless
ness appealing to the charity of the passers by in those
moments of devotion when they were remembering
their own mercies. He begged an alms of Peter and
John. They happened at the time to be without money,
but they were full of exultant joy ; life was overflowing
within them; and they were overmastered by the im
pulse to communicate to this helpless brother-man
something of the strength with which they were
blessed. In the name of Jesus Christ they com
manded him to rise and walk ; and immediately God
fulfilled their benevolent wishes ; for, the feet and ankle
bones of the cripple receiving strength, he leaped up
and rushed forward, holding Peter with one hand and
John with the other; and he entered the temple,
" walking, and leaping, and praising God."
It must have been with a strange mingling of awe
and exultation that the apostles thus saw the motions
of their will taking effect in the bodies of others. They
knew quite well, indeed, and confessed at once, that

144 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
they had not done the deed by their own power or
holiness. But they were the channels through which
the divine power passed ; it was the Holy Spirit which
both inspired them with the instinct of helpfulness and
caused their philanthropic desires to take effect in this
remarkable manner.
The age of such miracles is long since past. Were
we, in imitation of Peter and John, to order a cripple,
in the name of Christ, to rise up and walk, the physical
healing would not follow. But the impulse to help is
still T:he mark of a follower of Christ; and a sacred
enthusiasm to communicate freshness and fulness of
life is one of the most natural results of being filled
with the Spirit of God. Nor are we without resources.
We can call to our aid the skill of the medical man,
the deftness of the nurse, the legislation of the states
man, the authority of the municipality, and the many
other resources of science and civilization. We have
to take a somewhat roundabout road, but the length
of the road matters little; if only the impulse to help
be passionate enough it can make long roads short.
Indeed, by the use of preventive measures, by which
disease and distress are cut off at their sources, Chris
tian philanthropy is finding shorter roads than even
that of miracles ; and so the Lord's wonderful word is
being fulfilled: "The works that I do shall ye do also;
and greater works than these shall ye do,"

ST. JOHN IN THE PENTECOSTAL AGE. 145

XL.
When the cripple who had been cured went leap
ing and shouting into the temple, he naturally attracted
a crowd, to whom St. Peter and St. John seized the
opportunity of communicating the secret of the resur
rection. But the temple police and some of the au
thorities, who chanced to be present, coming upon
them, broke up the gathering and carried off the two
aposdes to jail as disturbers of the peace. This was the
first time Peter and John had seen the inside of a prison,
and it gave them a foretaste of the consequences
which the new mission on which they were embarked
might involve. But the heat and glow of the enthusi
asm with which the Holy Spirit was inspiring them
were too intense to allow them to feel such a mis
adventure. When, the next day, they were brought
up before the Sanhedrin they not only answered the
questions put to them with intrepidity, but seized the
occasion to urge home on the consciences of the authori
ties the crime of which they had been guilty, in crucify
ing One of whom God had shown his approval by
raising him from the dead. The force of conviction so
loosed their tongues and raised them morally above
their accusers that, it is said, the authorities, perceiving
them to be unlearned and ignorant men, marvelled at
them; and they took knowledge of them that they
had been with Jesus. There are certain states of mind
jn which the distance put by conventional distinctions
10

146 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
between man and man disappears, and he who has the
larger manhood, or who has truth and justice on his
side, towers over his opponents, who are made to feel
how little the mere authority of office can avail them ;
and this victorious consciousness is imparted by the
Holy Spirit, when it is received in purity and fulness.
Shortly after this not Peter and John only, but
apparently all the apostles, were, in similar circum
stances, brought into collision with the Jewish author
ities. The Christian doctrine was spreading more and
more; men were being converted by the thousand;
and the authorities, taking alarm, cast the apostles
again into prison. But they were miraculously deliv
ered, and again appeared at their post in the temple
as witnesses of the resurrection. The authorities had
them brought again before their judgment-seat, but to
the question why they had broken through the interdict
the apostles replied that they must, in such a case, obey
God rather than man. On this occasion the entire
apostolic college were on the point of losing their lives,
the feeling against them being so bitter that the author
ities thought of stamping out the heresy by the death
of all its preachers. But this murderous zeal was
checked by the intervention of Gamaliel, and the feel
ing of the authorities was satisfied with beating the
apostles and dismissing them. This, though it is so
lightly told, probably means that St. John and the rest
had to endure forty stripes save one — a punishment
which, in ordinary circumstances, would have formed
in the life of a Jew an indignity never to be forgotten.
But in the state of mind in which they were it hardly

ST. JOHN IN THE PENTECOSTAL AGE. 147
made a mark on their memories, and, so far from being
broken by it, " they departed from the council rejoic
ing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame
for His name " ; and they went on with their work as
if nothing had happened.
A far severer trial befell St. John some time later,
when his brother James was cut off by the sword of
Herod. Of this incident no details are given. We do
not know how James should have become a man so
marked that the hand of authority struck at him in
preference to any of the other apostles. But no doubt
it was by the boldness of his testimony for Christ that
he won this distinction ; and, although the loss must
have entered like iron into the soul of his sensitive
brother, yet the grief of St. John would be tempered
by the sense that the martyr had sacrificed his life for
a great cause and had gone to inherit a great reward.
A life filled with the Holy Ghost is likely to be a
life of trial and suffering, because the impetuosity of
its forward movement brings it into collision with con
ventional authorities and vested interests ; but the glow
and warmth of its own feeling will lift it lightly over
difficulties, and convert experiences which in ordinary
circumstances would produce feelings of bitter shame
and despair into reasons for joy and triumph.

148 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XLI.
The Pentecostal epoch was an era of marvels.
The historian of it has, in every other paragraph, to
remark how excitement and wonder were caused by
what was happening. Not only were those astonished
who saw or heard what was taking place, but the chief
actors themselves were carried forward in a kind of
dream of wonder, as, following the indications of
Providence, they advanced from one scene of novelty
to another, by a path which it would never have
entered into their own hearts to tread.
Especially astonishing to them was the way in
which the fences within which their religious life had
been confined broke down, and they were carried into
one new territory after another as preachers of Christ ;
the oddest circumstances sometimes giving the provi
dential impulse to fresh developments. Not infre
quently it was by persecution that the new faith was
driven out of one place into another, where, but for
this reason, it might never have been heard of; so that
the opposition which threatened to extinguish the fire
of the Gospel only scattered its embers far and wide ;
and wherever they fell a new fire was kindled.
Of course the supreme surprise was the admission
of the Gentiles to an equal share with the Jews in
the privileges of the gospel. This was one of the
greatest revolutions of thought and practice in the his
tory of humanity ; but its beginnings belong rather to

ST. JOHN IN THE PENTECOSTAL AGE. 1 49
the life of St. Peter and its consummation to the life
of St. Paul than to the history of St. John. Before,
however, the decisive step was taken by the baptism of
Cornelius at the hands of St. Peter, there were frag
mentary and tentative movements in the same direc
tion ; and with one of these St. John had an interesting
connection. Those who were scattered abroad from Jerusalem
by the persecution which ensued on the martyrdom of
St. Stephen went everywhere preaching the Word ; and
Philip, one of the seven deacons, drifted to Samaria,
where he began to make Christ known ; because in
those days none of Christ's followers could keep to
themselves the secret whicli was burning in their bones.
So striking were the effects of Philip's preaching that
the news came to the church at Jerusalem, and St.
John ar.d St. Peter were sent down to Samaria to in
spect and direct the movement.
The Samaritans were neither Jews nor Gentiles,
but stood on the border line between the two ; and, in
ordinary circumstances, Peter and John, as strict Jews,
would undoubtedly have felt scruples about holding
intercourse with them. But what they saw on this oc
casion made them forget their prejudices ; they threw
themselves into the good work which was going on ;
they were the means of communicating to the converts
the gifts of the Spirit ; and, before returning to Jerusa
lem, they " preached the gospel in many villages of the
Samaritans." In St. John this was the more remarkable be
cause of an incident of his earlier history which will

150 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
be remembered. Being at the entrance of a Samaritan
village which refused to receive his Master, he asked to
be allowed to call down on it fire from heaven. Such
was the natural man in St. John; such was the natural
prejudice of Jew against Samaritan. But, when filled
with the Holy Spirit, John was full of love, and. he saw
objects to admire or to pity where formerly he had
only seen objects to hate and to destroy. When men
are filled with the Holy Ghost they will look on their
fellow-creatures with new eyes ; they will see in the
worst of them precious souls to be loved and re
deemed. Nothing so transmutes to our feeling the
most objectionable of our fellow-men as an honest effort
on our part to do them good. Only get near enough
any child of Adam, and there can never fail to be
found in him something to which the heart can attach
itself.

ST. JOHN IN THE PENTECOSTAL AGE. 1 5 I

XLII.
One of the most remarkable features of the Pen
tecostal epoch was the development of brotherly feel
ing. The religious sentiment is a centripetal one ; and,
when it becomes intense, it draws men irresistibly to
gether. Thus, in the Book of Acts, we read con
tinually of the earliest Christians being " all with one
accord in one place." They almost lived together;
and for a time it looked as if they were permanently
to have a common table and a common purse. In
this close brotherly intercourse, it is easy to believe,
the affectionate heart of St. John would take cordial
part. The love of many must, however, have also
concentrated itself in special friendships, and this was
the case with St. John. In those days he and St.
Peter became so closely associated as to be insepa
rable. In every scene in which St. John is mentioned in
the Acts St. Peter is mentioned along with him. They
were together in the upper room waiting for the gift
of the Spirit; they were together when the lame man
was healed ; they appeared together before the Sanhe
drin, and were imprisoned together ; and they went
down together to evangelize Samaria.
The origin of this friendship was, indeed, far
earlier. John and Peter were natives of the same
town. As boys they learned the same trade, and in
manhood they were partners in business. They, in

152 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
all probability, went together to Jerusalem to the feasts
and they both were involved in the movement of the
Baptist. They were introduced to Christ on the same
day. Not only were both among the twelve apostles,
but both belonged to the chosen Three. In many
a scene of the life of Christ they were especially drawn
together at the close; they exhibited their mutual un
derstanding at the Last Supper ; they were side by side
in Gethsemane : they were in the high priest's palace
together ; and they ran together to the Lord's empty
tomb. But it was after the Ascension that their friend
ship took its final and most perfect form. The Master
whom both loved being away, each felt more than ever
the need of the other. In the fire of the Pentecostal
enthusiasm their hearts were riveted to each other ; and
thus there was formed one of the most memorable
friendships of the world, like that of David and Jonathan
in the Old Testament, or of Luther and Melancthon in
modern times. The two men were very unlike ; but
this is no obstacle to friendship, but rather the reverse ;
for different peculiarities complement each other, if
only there be a fundamental identity of sentiment ; and
this Peter and John had in their common devotion to
Christ. What a source of happiness their friendship
must have been to them, as they talked over the in
cidents of their extraordinary career, helping one an
other to recall the words of their Master and the
traits of his character, and as they faced danger or
labored in the Gospel, or discussed together the plans
of the great enterprise in which they were engaged !
Surely friendship never can be so sweet and helpful

ST. JOHN IN THE PENTECOSTAL AGE. 1 53
as when it is founded on common love to Christ and
common enthusiasm in his work.
In this friendship St. Peter was, to outward ap
pearance, the predominant partner. In the first half
of the Book of Acts he is always the leader ; and St.
John retires behind his more prominent figure, playing
an altogether subordinate part. But it is one of the
finest peculiarities of a time like Pentecost that all
engaged in the work of God forget themselves, being
too concerned with the work itself to have time to
spare for estimating the magnitude of their own share
in it or contrasting it with that of others ; and we may
be certain that the heart of St. John would have been
the last to envy the honor vouchsafed to another. Be
sides, St. Peter must have known all the time that in
this friendship he was getting more than he could
give. There are gifts which qualify for leadership and
publicity; but those who occupy the second place,
or who are hidden altogether from the eyes of the
world, may have the deeper nature and the finer
graces. Some gifts are intended for immediate effect;
others come slowly to maturity, but their influence is
far more lasting. St Peter had the gifts necessary to
break ground for Christianity, to champion it in the
face of opposition and to direct its first conquests;
but St. John, sunk out of sight, was far nearer the
heart of Christianity. In his Gospel there is a view
of the Holy Spirit widely different from that which is
found in Acts. In Acts the Holy Spirit is the power
by which Christianity is extended — the very power
which rested supremely on St. Peter; but in the fourth

154 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
Gospel the Holy Spirit is the substitute for Jesus,
the Intermediary between the invisible Christ and the
visible Church, who takes of the things of Christ and
shows them unto us. In the Spirit's influence, as it is
represented in Acts, St John had his share ; but he
especially shared in the other mode of the Spirit's in
fluence described in his own Gospel. The things of
Christ were shown to him, the character of Christ was
put upon him, the spirit of Christ was breathed into
him. And this gave to his fellowship a priceless value;
for all other advantages which friendship can confer
grow small in comparison with the charm and the
influence of the beauty of holiness.

ST. JOHN IN PATMOS. 1 55

ST. JOHN IN PATMOS.

XLIII.

St. John slips, in characteristic silence, out of the
Book of Acts ; and the information which we obtain of
his subsequent life is scanty in the extreme.
Ih one of St. Paul's epistles he is mentioned ; and
we are happy from this notice to learn that the two
great teachers of Christianity met at least once face to
face. Paul calls John one of the pillars of the church,
the others at that time being St. Peter and St. James.
This was when the headquarters of Christianity were
still at Jerusalem.
In Jerusalem St. John is believed to have remained
till the death of the Virgin Mary, loyally and lovingly
fulfilling the charge which the Saviour had imposed on
him with his dying breath. When released from this
duty by her decease, he no doubt went forth like the
other apostles to evangelize the world ; but in what di
rection he turned his steps we have no information.
For a considerable number of years our record of his
life is an absolute blank.
There is, in one of the writings of St. Augustine,
some shadow of a statement that he went to the Parthi-
ans ; but it appears to be founded only on the mistrans
lation of a word in one of St. John's own writings.
There is also a tradition of his being in Rome; and

Ij6 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
two well-known traditions are connected with this sup
posed residence in the eternal city. It is told that dur
ing one of the persecutions he was cast into a caldron
of boiling oil, but came out unharmed ; and it is also
affirmed that he was given to drink a poisoned cup, but
when he drank it no ill effect ensued, because the poi
son had taken itself away in the shape of a serpent. In
mediaeval art this scene is frequently represented, St
John appearing as a beautiful youth with a cup in his
hand, out of which a serpent is escaping. But legends
of this sort carry on their face their own refutation.
Putting such traditions aside, we have satisfactory
information that he appeared Mn Asia Minor. This is
the statement of Irenaeus, who must have known the
fact perfectly well, because he was a disciple of Poly
carp, the martyr bishop of Hierapolis, and Polycarp
was a disciple of John.
The latter part of St. John's life was spent in this
region ; and the city with which the unanimous tradi
tion of early times associates him is Ephesus.
This city was situated on the ^Egean coast, and it
was one of the great centres of human life in that age ;
for Christianity, at its inception, had a predilection for
large cities, whence its influence might radiate into the
regions with which they were connected. Ephesus
contained a great population and was a place of enor
mous wealth and activity. St. John may have been in
spired by the aspect, of its busy quays and streets when
he thus described the traffic of the mystic Babylon :
" The merchandise of gold, and silver, and precious
stones, and of pearls, and fine linen, and purple, and

ST. JOHN IN PATMOS. 157
silk, and scarlet, and thyine wood and all manner ves
sels of ivory, and all manner vessels of most precious
wood, and of brass and iron and marble, and cinnamon,
and odors, and ointment, and frankincense, and wine,
and oil, and fine flour and wheat, and beasts, and sheep,
and horses, and chariots, and slaves, and souls of men."
The last awful words suggest — what was the fact — that
it was an extremely wicked city. Shakespeare's account
of an imaginary Ephesus, in the beginning of the
Comedy of Errors, is too true a description of the real
ancient Ephesus :
" They say this town is full of cozenage,
As nimble jugglers that deceive the eye,
Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind,
Soul-killing witches that deform the body,
Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks,
And many such like liberties of sin."
Being connected by both land and sea with Syria and
the countries beyond, it swarmed with those professors
of black arts whom the East in that age poured in mul
titudes into the great cities of the West; and these
preyed on the strangers from every shore who entered
the harbor. The centre, however, of degradation was
the temple of Diana. This was reckoned one of the
seven wonders of the world. It was larger than any
known structure of the kind ; it had one hundred and
twenty- seven pillars, each of which was the gift of a
king; it contained masterpieces in both sculpture and
painting of the greatest artists of antiquity, such as
Phidias and Appelles ; its worship was maintained by
innumerable priests and priestesses ; and its votaries

158 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
could boast that Asia and the whole world worshipped
its divinity. Obviously this was a place where the Gospel was
urgently needed; and before it was visited by St.
John the work of its evangelization had been vigor
ously begun. It had been the chief centre of the third
missionary journey of the apostle Paul, who had de
voted to it three whole years. At the end of that time
he was violently driven forth ; but his work remained,
and St. John, when he arrived, entered on the heritage
left by his predecessor.
There is good reason to believe that St. Paul had
not only established Christianity in Ephesus, but plant
ed churches in the regions round about. Behind Ephe
sus, in the valleys of the Hermus, Cayster, and Maean-
der, there lay a number of important cities, such as
Smyrna, Pergamos and Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia
and Laodicea ; and to these the Christian movement, if
active in Ephesus, could hardly fail to penetrate. It
had penetrated to them ; and when St. John reached
Ephesus he not only found the foundations laid in that
city on which he might build, but a sphere of influence
open to him in the surrounding places. This he would
no doubt extend and develop, and we find him, in the
opening chapters of the Book of Revelation, exercising
a pastoral oversight not only over Ephesus, but also
over the neighboring towns, evidently with a minute
and sympathetic knowledge of the circumstances of
every one of them.

ST. JOHN IN PATMOS. 159

XLIV.
There is only one incident of the latter half of St.
John's life of which we have a complete account ; and
we owe the vivid picture to his own hand. It is an ac
count of his call to be a Christian writer. A speaker for
Christ he had long been ; but his writing was far to ex
ceed in importance his speaking; and he received a
special call to it.
The circumstances are very fully given, and they
are worthy of attention.
He was " in the isle called Patmos." This is an
island at no great distance from Ephesus, one of the
group, called the Sporades, scattered at this part of the
coast over the surface of the ^Egean. It is only a few
miles in length, and is rocky and rugged in configura
tion ; but travellers speak with enthusiasm of its beauty,
when it is seen in a favorable light where it sleeps upon
the lovely sea. It has a few hundred inhabitants, but it
is a lonely spot.
St. John says that he was on this island " for the
Word of God and the testimony of Jesus Christ ;"
which may only mean that he was providentially led
there to receive by inspiration the Word of God and
the testimony of Jesus Christ ; but more probably the
generally accepted interpretation is correct, that he was
banished to this place for preaching God's Word and
for his loyalty to Christ ; because in the same breath he
declares himself to be brother and companion in tribu-

l6o THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
lation to those who are persecuted. Lonely islands
were in that age favorite places of banishment; and
Patmos may well have been used for this purpose by
the authorities of Ephesus. What they intended, how
ever, for evil turned out, through the overruling
providence of God, to be for infinite good. Possibly
in Ephesus St. John had been working so hard that he
had little time to think and no time to write ; but, when
banished to this solitude, he found ample leisure. So it
was when Milton's public life was violently ended by
the death of Cromwell, and his outward activity limited
by his blindness, that he mused the greatest epic of the
world ; and it is indirectly to those who kept Bunyan
for twelve years in Bedford jail that we owe the Pil
grim's Progress. Prison literature has greatly enriched
mankind, and at the head of all such products we must
place the Book of Revelation.
Such was the place where the call came. The
time was the " Lord's day." This is the only passage
in Scripture where this now well-known name occurs ;
but, when we compare it with such a phrase as " the
Lord's Supper," and when we read how the Christians
came together for worship on the first day of the week,
or on the same day laid by in store their gifts for poor
saints, there can be no mistake to what it refers. The
day of the week on which the Lord rose from the dead
was already esteemed a sacred day by Christians, and
in the mind of Christian Jews, like St. John, the sacred-
ness of the Sabbath had in all probability been trans
ferred to it.
How St. John was employed on such a day we

ST. JOHN IN PATMOS. l6l
can without difficulty guess. He was praying, no
doubt. He might be reading the Word of God. We
may even make a shrewd guess at the portion of
Scripture he was studying; for the Book of Revela
tion is steeped in the spirit and imagery of the Book
of Daniel. It exhibits many traces also of another
book, not in the canon of Scripture — the apocryphal
Book of Enoch — and this also the apostle may have
had on the island with him. He was thinking with
love and intense concern of the churches under his
charge, from access to which he was for the time de
barred ; as other exiles — Knox for example, when in
Geneva, or Rutherford, when banished from Anwoth —
have passionately longed for their congregations. He
was thinking, too, of " the heavy and the weary weight
of all this unintelligible world ;" for, whether his ban
ishment took place, as is differently reported, in the
reign of Nero or in that of Domitian, it was an evil
time, when the ravening wolves of persecution had
been let loose and threatened to annihilate Christ's little
flock. Such was St. John's situation on the Lord's day
on the lonely isle of Patmos, when his absorption
deepened into the prophetic trance, or, as he puts it,
he was " in the Spirit ;" and then he was made ac
quainted with his divine vocation.

ii

162 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XLV.
The divine call was addressed first to the ear and
then to the eye.
First, he heard behind him "a great voice, as
of a trumpet." This expressed the desire of Him from
whom the voice came to speak through means of the
apostle : he had a message which he wished to ring
like a trumpet round the world. This was further
indicated by what the voice proceeded to say : " I am
Alpha and Omega." These are the first and the last
letters of the Greek alphabet; therefore they are the
beginning and ending of all that can be written in the
Greek language. And so is Christ himself the sum
and substance of all which his messengers have to
deliver to the world : with him they have to begin, and
with him they have to end. But there could be no
mistake in the interpretation of the symbol, because
the voice proceeded to instruct St. John that he was to
write a book, the contents of which would be divinely
communicated to him, and he was ordered to send it
to the churches of the province of Asia, which were
under his superintendence.
So far the revelation addressed itself to the ear ;
but a much greater impression was produced through
the avenue of the inner eye, to which there was pre
sented nothing less than a vision of the glorified Head
of the church.
Turning round to see, as he expresses it, the voice
which talked with him, he saw One like unto the Son

ST. JOHN IN PATMOS. 1 63
of man in the midst of seven golden candlesticks,
or rather lampstands. These candlesticks were ex
plained to him as symbols of the seven churches of
the province of Asia ; and the symbolism was appro
priate, for were not these churches lights shining in
dark places by holding forth the illumination of divine
truth? But in order to serve this purpose they re
quired to be trimmed and supplied with oil ; and this
was why He whom John saw was standing or walking
in the midst of them. He was watching and pass
ing from one to another to see that their light did not
go out. Such was his work ; but St. John proceeds in sub
lime terms to describe his aspect.
He was "clothed with a garment down to the
feet, and girt about the breast with a golden girdle."
The word employed for " garment " is the name for a
priestly robe, so that it was in the character of priest
that this superhuman Figure presented himself. Per
haps it is to the priestly character also that the next
two traits apply. " His head and his hairs were white
like wool, as white as snow." This has been sup
posed to indicate venerable age, but it is more likely
that it is a symbol of priestly purity. And the other
trait — " His eyes were as a flame of fire " — denotes the
keenness with which he seeks for purity in others.
, Two other traits appear to bring out rather his
kingly character — the one, that " His feet were like
fine brass," and the other, that " He had in his right
hand seven stars." Feet of brass should be symbols of
solid and irresistible strength, whether used for bearing

164 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
weight imposed from above or for treading down op
position. There is no burden which the friends of
Christ can lay upon him which he is not able to sus
tain ; and, on the other hand, there is no force which
his enemies can bring against him which he is not able
to trample under foot. Woe to the opponent who
feels on his neck the weight of the feet which are of fine
brass ! In what form the seven stars appeared in the
right hand of this Figure we can only conjecture.
Some have supposed them to have been set like pre
cious stones in a ring worn on his finger or in a bracelet
on his wrist, but this is perhaps too precise. These
stars are afterwards described as the angels of the seven
churches, by which we are to understand the authori
ties presiding over them. These " angels " had the
churches in their hands, but they themselves were held
in the right hand of Christ, as the authorities of all
churches must ever be if they are to have any true
success. The two traits that have still to be mentioned may,
perhaps, be said to set forth the prophetic character of
Him who is here described. His voice was " as the
sound of many waters." As there is no sound so mystic
and subduing as the manifold voice of ocean, and as
this voice murmurs upon every shore and envelops the
world, so is the prophetic word of Christ intended to
reach all men, and when it comes with the power
of the Spirit it is irresistible. " Out of his mouth
went a sharp two-edged sword " — this is the other
prophetic trait. Perhaps it ought rather to be regarded
as kingly, for the sword intended is that of the Judge,

ST. JOHN IN PATMOS. 165
who will separate men at the last and recompense them
according to their deeds. But it also inevitably recalls
the Word of God, which is " quick and powerful, and
sharper than any two-edged sword." The two mean
ings are not far apart, for Christ said himself in regard
to everyone who heard him : " The word that I have
spoken, the same shall judge him at the last day."
The final trait of the description is, " His counte
nance was as the sun shineth in his strength." Perhaps
it ought rather to be " His aspect." It was not the
face alone of this wonderful Figure, but his whole per
son, that emitted a dazzling light : he stood in a circle
of glory; and this was as intense as the midday sun.

166 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

XLVI.
In some features of this description — especially the
two-edged sword proceeding out of the mouth — we
recognize the peculiarity of the Hebrew imagination, to
which the harmony of one part of a picture with an
other was not a necessity, as it was to the mind of the
Greek. Thoroughly to enjoy St. John's description
we should have to translate some portions of his im
agery into their Greek equivalents, so as to render the
whole harmonious as a single visual perception. But
there is no doubt that this is one of the most impres
sive visions which the Word of God contains.
What surprises us is the discrepancy between it
and the Christ of St. John's memory. One would have
expected that if in the vision he saw his beloved Master
again the form would have been a glorified reproduction
of the figure with which he had been so familiar in the
days of Christ's flesh. We dare not, however, regard
what he saw in Patmos merely as an image projected
from his own imagination ; on the contrary, it was a
figure cast on the internal mirror from the outside ; and
the reason why it was so different from the Jesus of St.
John's memory may have been because the apostle
required an entirely new conception of his Master, an
swering to the distance to which He had removed and
the state of glory into which He had entered. This
may have been necessary, to impress the mind of St.
John with the proper sense of His greatness.

ST. JOHN IN PATMOS. 1 67
At all events, the impression which the vision did
produce was profound. As St. Paul, when the Lord
Jesus appeared to him in glory on the way to Damas
cus, fell to the ground and was struck blind for a
season, so St. John when this vision flashed upon him
fell down like a dead man.
But the divine Figure at whose feet he had fallen,
bending over him, touched him with his hand. This
was the hand that held the seven stars, yet it could
give a light and comforting touch ; for, glorious and
terrible as is the exalted One, yet is he that gentle Jesus
who blessed the children and was the Friend of sinners.
He proceeded to rally his prostrate servant with com
fortable words ; and then he instructed him that this
vision was a divine preparation for the disclosure of the
mystery which was still hidden, but which the book
to be penned by him was to reveal to the world.
In many respects this experience of St. John bears
a striking resemblance to the visions by which the
prophetic career of Old Testament prophets, like Isaiah,
Jeremiah and Ezekiel, was inaugurated. The pecu
liarity in this case, as has been already noted, is that
the scene did not take place at the commencement of
his career as a man of God, but in the middle of it, at
the time when he was about to enter upon the work of
a writer. This casts an interesting light on the writings of
St. John. As far as we are informed, the literary activi
ty of no other New Testament writer was inaugurated
with any such ceremony and solemnity ; indeed, many of
the New Testament writings rather produce the impres-

l68 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
sion that their authors were unconscious of the extraor
dinary place to which the productions of their pens
were destined. But in St. John this came to complete
consciousness, and he knew when he put pen to paper
that he was doing a momentous work for both God and
man. There is, however, a more general lesson : and it is
one specially adapted to our own times. The preva
lence of writing is one of the characteristics of the present
age, and the printed page is every day becoming a
greater influence in shaping the thoughts and the con
duct of mankind. Through it the voice of Christ can
be made to sound like a trumpet, or, like the voice of
many waters, to murmur round the globe. Writing,
therefore, no less than preaching, may be a service
done to Christ, and it ought to be carried on with
the same purity of motive and the same devotion.
Nor ought the sense of responsibility to be confined
to religious writing. For good or evil, no influence
goes deeper than that of written words, whether they
appear in letter, journal, book, or any other form; and,
as in every activity of life it is the duty of a Christian
man to aim at the glory of God, so in this one also
ought Jesus Christ to be the Alpha and the Omega.

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN. 169

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN.

XLVII.

There is no kind of influence more penetrative and
enduring than that which is vouchsafed to the author
who writes a book which the world will not let die ;
"for books are not absolutely dead things, but do
contain a progeny of life in them to be as active as that
soul was whose progeny they are ; nay, they do pre
serve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of
that living intellect that bred them .... A good book is
the precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and
treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life."
When we consider how obscure was the corner in
which St. John was born and how humble the calling
to which he was bred, we cannot but wonder that it
should have been given to him to write books which
have already lasted for nearly two thousand years and
yet appear to have only commenced their career of
usefulness. That St. Paul, when he became a new
man, should have served the cause of Christianity with
his pen cannot cause any surprise, because he was an
educated man : but St. John had never learned. It re
minds us of the confession of John Bunyan in the
beginning of his autobiography : " For my descent, it
was, as is well-known by many, of a low and incon
siderable generation ; my father's house being of that

170 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
rank which is meanest and most despised of all the
families in the land." Yet — and strange it is to think
of it — among all the thousands who have been educated
in our universities from century to century none have,
in the charm of their style or the value of their matter,
surpassed the tinker's son ; of whom a critic of the rank
of Coleridge has written: "I know of no book, the
Bible excepted, which I, according to my judgment
and experience, could so safely recommend, as teaching
and enforcing the whole saving truth according to the
mind that was in Christ Jesus, as the Pilgrim's Pro
gress." The literature of Germany has a marvel some
what similar to exhibit : Jacob Boehme was all his life
nothing better than a working shoemaker, yet three
hulidred years after his death he can be spoken of as
" the greatest of the mystics and the father of German
philosophy." Philosophers like Schelling and Hegel
have paid tribute to his genius, the latter calling him
" a man of a mighty mind ;" and a living countryman
of our own says of his writings : " I wade in and in, to
the utmost of my ability, and still there rise up above
me and stretch out around me and sink down beneath
me vast reaches of revelation and speculation, attain
ment and experience, before which I can only wonder
and worship .... Boehme, almost more than any other
man whatsoever, is carried up till he moves like a holy
angel or a glorified saint among things unseen and
eternal. He is of the race of the seers, and he stands
out a very prince among them. He is full of eyes, and
all his eyes are full of light."
Examples like these remind us that there is no

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN. 171
rank of life so lowly or corner of the world so obscure
as to be inaccessible to the light of the glorious mystery
of existence. No mind and no lot need be common
place, if only the heart be opened to the beauty and
the truth with which it is surrounded. Among the
poor, if this awakening comes at all, it generally is due
to the touch of religion. And, as regards St. John, it
was obviously by the influence of Christ that his sen
sibilities were quickened, and it was by the exigencies
of the work of Christ, in which he was engaged, that
his slumbering powers were called into exercise.
In his writings there are manifest traces of the un
learned man. More than once he betrays his impatience
in the use of " paper and ink," like one unaccustomed
to composition. The Greek of his earliest book is
decidedly peculiar ; and, although his prolonged res
idence in Ephesus improved his language, he avoids
even in his latest writings all the complexities of literary
style, having formed for himself a dialect of extreme
simplicity. Yet through the imperfections of his lan
guage the originality and majesty of his thoughts do
not fail to find a way. The ancient Church called him
the eagle, meaning that among the writers of the Bible
he is the one who soars highest and is able to gaze
most steadily upon the sun of truth. They called him
also Epistethius, the Recumbent One ; meaning that,
not only once or twice, but always he was lying on the
bosom of Jesus and listening to the beating of His
heart. To St. John Jesus Christ was the Truth, eternal
and absolute, issuing from the Father to be the Light
of the world ; and in this sunlight John lived contin-

172 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
ually. But at the same time Christ was the Love, in
finite and absolute, in contact with which the apostle's
heart was filled with satisfaction and ever fresh desire.
And, as Truth and Love in one, He was to him the Life
eternal. It was by this unwearied intuition of Christ
and by absorbing love to him that St. John was made
a writer ; for in writing, as elsewhere,
" It is the heart, and not the brain,
That to the highest doth attain ;
And he who followeth love's behest
Far exceedeth all the rest."

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN. 1 73

XLVIII.
The writings of St. John belong to three species :
one is an Apocalypse, one is a Gospel, and three are
Letters. Although the Book of Revelation stands last in
the Bible it is undoubtedly the first of St. John's writ
ings. This is indicated in the book itself, in the begin
ning of which he gives an account of his call to the
work of authorship ; and there are many other indica
tions of the same thing. The book exhibits the apostle's
mind at an early stage of development, when it was
furnished with materials of which it was subsequently
to a large extent displenished. Indeed, so vast is the
contrast between the storm and stress with which this
book is filled and the serenity of St. John's later writ
ings that it has been doubted by many whether they
can have proceeded from the same mind. But the
providential experiences through which St. John lived
were of a very revolutionary order, and his was a nature
capable of passing from extreme excitement to supreme
tranquillity. The mind of the writer of the Book of Revelation
is dominated by two events of the most agitating im
port — the Neronian Persecution and the Fall of Jeru
salem. The first heathen persecution of Christianity took
place at Rome at the hands of the Emperor Nero, and
it was of a terrible description. The Christians were

174 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
accused of setting fire to the city and thus causing a
calamity which had inspired the inhabitants with be
wildering terror. Popular feeling was thus let loose
against the obscure foreign sect, and the wildest ex
cesses of cruelty were perpetrated. Many were thrown
to wild beasts in the amphitheatre, and others were en
closed in sacks full of pitch and, being stuck on poles,
were burned to illuminate the gardens opened by the
Emperor to appease his excited subjects. Some sup
pose that St John was in Rome at the time and wit
nessed these atrocities ; but, whether he was or not, it
is easy to understand what an effect they must have
produced on his sensitive heart ; and the mental ex
citement into which he was thrown deeply colored his
writing in Revelation.
The other influence under which he wrote was the
emotion caused by the approaching fall of Jerusalem.
The Jews had attempted to throw off the yoke of their
Roman masters, who thereupon advanced against them
with irresistible force, for the purpose of crushing the
Jewish state out of existence. From province to
province and town to town the destruction swept, till
Jerusalem was girdled round with the besieging army;
and the city fell after months of suffering, during which
scenes of horror and carnage had been enacted such as
humanity has hardly ever witnessed elsewhere. This
took place in the year 70 A. D., and St. John's book
was probably writen a year or two earlier.
It is in form an Apocalypse — a literary form at
that time greatly cultivated among the Jews. One
book of the Old Testament — the prophecy of Daniel —

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN. 1 75
is written in it ; but in the period between the Old
Testament and the New many books of this species
appeared, the most notable of them being the Book of
Enoch, which still survives. As the name implies, an
Apocalypse is a disclosure of the secret purposes of
God. In the fifth chapter of Revelation a book is seen
in heaven sealed with seven seals, which none in heav
en or earth can open; but the Lion of the Tribe of
Judah prevails to open the book and to loose the seals
thereof. This is the Book of fate, or rather of Provi
dence ; and, as seal after seal is broken, the secrets of
Providence are successively made known. After the
seven seals ensues the blowing of seven trumpets, with
a similar import, and this is succeeded by the pouring
out of seven vials, in the same sense. The disclosures
made by the seven seals, the seven trumpets and
the seven vials form the body of the book. The
whole is extremely obscure, and, as is well-known, no
portion of Scripture has given rise to such diversity of
interpretation, some interpreting it as referring to the
events then happening in St. John's own experience,
others as descriptive of the entire course of human
history from that date onwards, and still others as giv
ing information of what will happen at the end of the
world. It is possible that the author was compelled to be
obscure ; because, if he had expressed his ideas in plain
language, he would have exposed both himself and his
fellow-Christians to the persecuting rage of the Roman
government, which extended also to Ephesus, where he
was. If, for instance, the Beast to which he refers as

176 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
the supreme enemy of the Church be, as many suppose,
the Emperor Nero, it is obvious that he could only
have referred to him in terms carefully veiled.
Bewilderingly obscure, however, as many chapters
of the Revelation are, no book has ever more fully
served its purpose. This is to prove that there is a
Providence in human affairs which is on the side 0/
righteousness, and, in spite of the opposition of the in
fernal and bestial elements in the world, will secure the
final triumh of Christianity. This great lesson can be
read on every page ; in periods of persecution the book
has always been a consolation to the Church, and it
will always have an office to fulfil. Of course there are
other passages, such as the Epistles to the Seven
Churches, the teaching of which is perfectly plain ; and
to this book the world is largely indebted for the
imagery in which it conceives the Christian heaven.

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN 1 77

XLIX.
Of St. John's later writings we do not know for
certain which was first, but probably it was his Gospel.
A whole generation had intervened between his first
book and his second, and in the interval he had greatly
changed. The atmosphere of the Gospel is quite dif
ferent from that of the Revelation. The Fall of Jeru
salem had happened in the meantime, and this had
created a revolution in the minds of Christians. It
proclaimed with the irresistible voice of destiny that the
old dispensation, with its temple, rites and limitations,
had passed away, and that a new era had dawned upon
the world. It cut Jewish Christians loose from a thou
sand prepossessions and caused them to realize how free
and universal a thing Christianity was to be. In the
Book of Revelation St. John is still entangled in Jewish
imagery, hopes, claims, and modes of thought, but in
the Gospel he has moved out into the wide and sunny
ocean of humanity.
It is said that in the old age of the apostle the
presbyters of Ephesus begged him to commit to writ
ing his recollections of his Master, lest the precious
treasures of his memory, by which they had often prof
ited, should be lost. Nothing could be more probable
than this, but tradition has added, in its exaggerative
way, that he thereupon at once, in an access of inspiration,
began to recite the opening verses of his Gospel—" In
12

178 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with
God, and the Word was God." This reminds me of
a picture of St. John I have seen, from the pencil of
one of the old masters, in which he is represented as
having just written these words, when he pauses and
lays down the pen, gazing awestruck at the characters
which express a meaning far beyond his own power of
comprehension. The Gospels of St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St.
Luke were, of course, by this time in existence, and
probably they were well known both to the apostle and
his fellow presbyters ; but his reminiscences covered
different grounds from theirs. This was one reason
for which he wrote — to supplement their information.
He passes over many things narrated by them, though
he takes them for granted, and, indeed, his narrative
but seldom runs parallel with theirs. It is from him
we learn that the public ministry of Christ lasted for
three years, whereas from the Synoptists we should
have inferred that it lasted but one. The reason is that
they confine themselves, except at the last, to the
Lord's movements in Galilee, whereas St. John nar
rates in great detail His visits to Jerusalem, which they
have omitted. They describe his life in public, his
miracles, his parables to the multitude; he commemo
rates his interviews with individuals. The Synop
tists supply the exterior life of Christ, St. John the
interior. There must, in the nature of things, have been a
Christ different from the one seen by the multitude,
and St John, by the make of his mind and the course

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN. 1 79
of his experience, was the man to delineate this hidden
Christ. He had been with him oftener than any other ;
he had caught shades of his meaning which others had
missed ; he treasured his rarest and most private say
ings. In St. John Jesus not only draws upon a larger
circle of ideas than in the Synoptists, but speaks with
a different accent; and the question has often been
asked whether He is not made to speak with the Johan
nine accent. Here and there, after reporting a speech
of his Master, the evangelist goes on to write down
reflections of his own, without indicating where Christ's
words cease and his own begin. Is this an indication
that he knows his own ideas to be so completely iden
tical with Christ's, and due to Christ, that he did not
feel the necessity of distinguishing exactly between
what he remembered and what he himself had
thought? The picture of Socrates presented in the Dialogues
of Plato differs from the biography of him given by
Xenophon in a manner not unlike the way in
which the discourses in St. John differ from those
of the Synoptists. Plato idealized his master, be
ing conscious that his own thoughts were a legit
imate development from those of Socrates. Per
haps, to some extent, the same may have been the
case with St. John ; but, if so, the freedom with which
he acted was due to the certainty of his own inspira
tion. In his lifetime Jesus had said : " I have yet many
things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now ;

180 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
howbeit, when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will
guide you into all truth." And St. John was so satisfied
that this had been fulfilled in his experience that he
could freely give the sense of his Master without
painful scrupulosity about its form.

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN. l8l

L.

There was probably also another reason for the
writing of St. John's Gospel. It is well known that
we owe the most of the writings of St. Paul indirectly
to the false teachers with whom he had to contend ;
because they provoked him by their opposition and
false accusations, and he blazed forth against them
with fiery and irresistible statements of the truth. At
the time the necessity was grievous to him, but the
work has reaped from it unspeakable advantage. The
discussions and the heresies of St. Paul's day had been
left behind by the time St. John wrote his Gospel, but
others had arisen in their stead. From his epistles we
learn that his righteous soul, too, was vexed with false
teachers, who endeavored to entice his converts away
from the truth. These are generally understood to
have been the precursors of those who were known
later as Gnostics ; and the drifts of their speculations
was to obscure either the true divinity or the true
humanity of Christ, while in practice they warped the
plain rules of righteousness and purity.
If St. John wrote his Gospel with such opponents
before his eyes, there may have been for him and his
first readers in many a verse a peculiar emphasis which
is now lost to us. This may especially have been the
case with the great verse in which he explains the pur
pose of his writings : " These are written, that ye might
believe that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of God ; and

1 82 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
that, believing, ye might have life through his name."
His purpose was to prove, first, that Jesus was the
Christ — that is, that he was the Heir and the Fulfiller
of the Old Testament. Although St. John was by this
time liberated from the Jewish prepossessions, the Old
Testament was still for him a divine revelation and the
ancient history a preparation for the Messiah. But, in
order to sustain the office of Messiah, Jesus had to be far
more than those supposed who had on their lips the
name of the Messiah they were expecting : to sustain the
mighty load of human salvation only one Being in the
universe was sufficient; and therefore God "gave his
only begotten Son." The second thing which St. John
wrote his Gospel to prove was that Jesus is the Son of
God. This truth is not peculiar to him, nor was it
first made known in his Gospel. It is the common
faith of all the writers of the New Testament. It un
derlies the testimony of the Synoptists ; St. Paul glories
in it ; the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews states
it explicitly. But St. John was able to bear more em
phatic and authoritative witness to it than any other
figure of the apostolic age ; and this he does especially
in his Gospel. " We beheld his glory," he says in the
prologue, " the glory of the Only Begotten of the Fa
ther, full of grace and truth ;" and the whole book is
an endeavor to let others see what he had seen. It
is a succession of unveilings of the glory of the Only
Begotten. He does not make use of all his materials.
For example, he only gives seven miracles ; but these
are chosen as typical and conclusive. The whole book
is a cumulative proof that Jesus was the Son of God.

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN. 1 83
Yet St. John's aim is not merely theoretical : there
is an ulterior object, expressed in the words, " and that,
believing, ye might have life through his name." He
meant his readers not only to assent to the demon
stration of Christ's claims, Dut to receive him as their
life. And the whole story is so told as to show how
those who received him for what he claimed to be were
blessed with eternal life, while those who did not re
ceive him were more and more hardened in their sin,
until their guilt culminated in the murder of the Prince
of Life.

1 84 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.

LI.

Of the epistolary species of writing we possess
three specimens from the pen of St. John.
Two of these, his second and third Epistles, are
simply short private letters, which have fortunately
been rescued from oblivion to give a vivid glimpse
into the life of that distant age as it was being formed
by Christianity. One of them is addressed to a person styled " the
elect lady," or, as it may be translated, "the lady
Electa " or " the elect Kyria." St. John had met some
of her children at the house of a sister of hers, and,
finding them to be decided Christians, he writes to the
mother a few warm words of congratulation, taking ad
vantage of the opportunity at the same time to warn
her against the abuse of her Christian hospitality by
wandering teachers who were not genuine servants of
Christ. One of the features of early Christianity was
the number of refined and high-toned women who
found in it satisfaction for the aspirations of the heart.
It is easy to understand how an aged 'saint with the
qualities of St. John should have been a friend and
confidant in homes over which such women presided.
His interest in the young people is extremely noticeable
and characteristic ; for he speaks with warmth not only
of the children of the lady to whom he writes, but also
of the children of her sister, with whom he was staying.

THE WRITINGS OF ST. JOHN. 1 85
The other little note is addressed to a gentleman ;
and its purpose is to commend to his attention certain
evangelists who were about to visit the town in which
he resided. It reminds us of St. Paul's brief Epistle
to Philemon ; and, like it, supplies a specimen of apos
tolic courtesy, as well as a glimpse of the changes
which Christianity was introducing into the social re
lationships. The remaining letter, St. John's first Epistle, is of
quite a different character. It is not long, but it is
more a short treatise than a letter in the common ac
ceptation of the term. It has not, like St. Paul's epis -
des, a superscription designating the writer and the
recipients. It has been suggested that it was written
at the same time as the Gospel and intended to accom
pany it as an envoi, and this notion has a great deal to
recommend it. For instance, the opening words,
" That which was from the beginning, which we have
heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we
have looked upon and our hands have handled of the
Word of life," are far liker a description of the Gospel
than of the contents of the Epistle which follows. The
whole composition would serve admirably as a com
panion-piece to the Gospel, to explain its drift and
enforce the practical objects for which it was written.
It exhibits the apostle's leading ideas more clearly,
perhaps, than even the Gospel ; at least it does so in
a space so narrow that they cannot be overlooked.
St. John, has not, like St. Paul, long arguments and
doctrinal statements, but he has watchwords which he
is constantly repeating. Truth, light, life, love — these

1 86 THE DISCIPLE WHOM JESUS LOVED.
are to him the priceless possessions. They are all in
God. Here we find again and again the statement,
" God is love," the greatest sentence which man ever
uttered. All these possessions, however, and God
himself, are brought nigh to men in Christ, and it is by
abiding in him that we enjoy them. In this blessed
ness St. John had lived for a lifetime, and the purpose
of his writings was that others might have fellowship
in the same blessedness.
Perhaps, however, the chief purpose of the Epistle
is to be found in the many earnest exhortations it con
tains in reference to the behavior of those who profess
to belong to Christ — not to sin, but to keep his com
mandments; not to yield to the enticements of the
world or to fear its hatred ; to love the brethren and
take advantage of every opportunity of doing them
good. " He that saith he abideth in Him ought him
self so to walk even as He walked."

ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.

ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.

CHAPTER I.
BIRTH AND UPBRINGING.
Luke i: 5-80
The birth of the Baptist is woven along with that
of Jesus into one exquisite story, in which we learn how
his father, when offering incense in the temple, was in
formed, through an apparition of the angel Gabriel, of
the approaching event, but was struck dumb for his
unbelief; how the virgin Mary, after being informed by
the same angel of her impending destiny, paid a length
ened visit to her cousin Elizabeth on the eve of the
Baptist's birth, and the two holy women affectionately
greeted each other; and how, at the circumcising of
the child, the tongue of the father was loosed, so that he
was able to tell the name which his son was to bear, and
at the same time to break forth into a hymn of praise for
the honor conferred on his family.
Great difficulties have been felt by Christian schol
ars about this story, but these are considerably relieved
when we perceive the truths which it embodies.
The first of these is that the Baptist's was a pre
destined life.
It was to emphasize this fact that the element of

190 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
miracle was allowed to enter so largely into the circum
stances of his birth. When events take place in the or
dinary course of nature we are apt to overlook their
significance; and hence it has seemed meet to the
Creator sometimes to accompany his working with cir
cumstances so unusual as to arouse attention and make
the truth so plain as to be unmistakable.
The parents were old and had ceased to have the
hope of children. In similar circumstances, the " father
of the faithful," in times remote, received the promise of
a son ; and the special favor of God, thus indicated,
heightened his sense of gratitude and strained his an
ticipations to the utmost as to the issues bound up in
his son's life. Zacharias and Elizabeth, in like manner,
must have felt that their child was in a peculiar way a
gift of God, and that a special importance was to attach
to his life. When anything has been long desired, but
hope of ever obtaining it has died out of the heart, and
yet, after all, it is given, the gift appears infinitely greater
than it would have done if received at the time when it
was expected. The real reason, however, why in this
case the gift was withheld so long was that the hour of
Providence had not come. The fulness of time when
the Messiah should appear, and therefore when his
forerunner should come into the world, was settled in
the divine plan and could not be altered by an hour.
Therefore had Zacharias and his wife to wait.
As a rule, the naming of children takes place in
haphazard fashion, the child receiving a certain name
simply because some relative has borne it before him or
because the sound has pleased the fancy of father or

BIRTH AND UPBRINGING. igi
mother, or for some similar reason. But on this occa
sion the name was divinely decided beforehand ; and
this was another indication that this child was created
for a special purpose. The name John signifies The
Lord is favorable, or, put more briefly, The Gift of God.
He was a gift to his parents, but also to far wider cir
cles — to his country and to mankind.
Not only was this child to be a gift, but he was to
be gifted ; so the father was informed : " He shall be
great in the sight of the Lord." To be a great man is
the ambition of every child of Adam ; and the thought
of having as a son one who is a great man is a sugges
tion which thrills every parent's heart. Greatness is,
indeed, an ambiguous word. Who is great ? To be
notorious, to be much in the mouths of men, to have a
name which is a household word — that is the superfi
cial conception of greatness. But such greatness may
be very paltry ; to as much greatness as this multitudes
of the meanest and most worthless of mankind have at
tained. But John was to be great " in the sight of the
Lord." This is a different matter : it implies not only
genuine gifts, but gifts employed for other than selfish
ends. Not only, however, was it indicated in general that
this child was to be a great man ; but the special task
was specified in which his gifts were to be employed.
He was to be a prophet : " He shall be filled with the
Holy Ghost from his mother's womb, and many of the
children of Israel will he turn to the Lord their God."
To be a prophet had in that country long been the
height of human ambition. Yet even this was not the

I92 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
summit of the honor intended for the son of Zacharias.
An honor far above what any prophet of the Old Tes
tament — even an Elijah or Isaiah — had attained was to
be vouchsafed to him : to be the forerunner ; going be
fore the Messiah to prepare his way.
If this was really the destiny of John it will not
appear very surprising that it should have been mi
raculously revealed beforehand. Yet perhaps the chief
lesson which we have to learn from the miracle is not
that the birth of John was exceptional, but rather that
every birth is more wonderful than we are apt to sup
pose. God saw fit to accompany his working in some
cases with miracle, making his meaning unmistakable,
in order that we might learn to take his meaning
always. Every life is predestinated. It is not by
chance that anyone is born at a particular time and
in a particular place. In the period which his life cov
ers and in the place where his lot is cast everyone has
an appointed work to do and a place to fill in the di
vine plan ; and his gifts are measured out by the divine
hand to enable him to fulfill his destiny. " In my cra
dle," said a great poet of our own century, " lay the
map of my line of march, marked out for my whole
life." But, if this be so, what becomes of human freedom ?
it may be asked. And this objection has actually been
urged against this story. If, it is said, God knew
beforehand what John's course in the world was to be
John could not have been a free agent. But this diffi
culty will not dismay us. It is only by means of
human cooperation that the divine purpose in any life

BIRTH AND UPBRINGING. 193
can be fulfilled. Anyone also may frustrate the grace
of God. Multitudes do so — and not seldom the most
gifted. The light of genius is to them a light that
leads astray ; their talents are misspent, and become a
curse instead of a blessing: and they will appear be
fore the judgment-seat with the work undone for which
they were created. It is just such a great life as
John's which brings home to the mind the full extent
of this danger. What if he had failed? What if,
yielding to the passions of youth or the temptations
of the world, he had quenched the Spirit and, instead
of being a prophet, to lead his fellowmen up to God,
had been a ringleader in evil, using the force and fasci
nation of his genius to lead men down the broad road !
Is it conceivable that he was never tempted ? that he
never stood trembling at the parting of the ways ? Is
it credible that the preacher of repentance did not
know the fascination of sin ? No man attains to a life
of honor and usefulness without passing through the
crisis of decision and fighting many a battle with the
world, the flesh, and the devil. It may not matter so
much to the world whether or not our life fails ; but it
matters as much to ourselves, for it is the loss of the
one chance of living, and it is an eternal loss.
Another lesson which is charmingly taught by
this story is that there are good people in the worst
of times. It is in the cycle of stories with which the birth
of Christ is surrounded — and along with them we
reckon the incidents connected with the birth of the

194 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
Baptist — that we obtain by far the most vivid glimpses
of the best section of Jewish society in that age — die
Stillen im Lande, who were waiting for the consolation
of Israel. Indeed, without this portion of the evangelic
records we should have hardly any clear information
about these hidden ones and their state of mind. Yet
they were essential to the rise and spread of Christiani
ty; and, now that we have the records, we can see
that they describe them exactly as they must have
been. It was an evil time. The people of God had sunk
very low both in character and in fortune. It was
the darkest hour, which occurs just before the dawn
ing. The nation was enslaved to the Roman power;
and its own princes, of dubious origin, were the exact
reverse of the ideals of the nation's prime. The Phari
see and the Sadducee occupied the high places of
religion — the one as scribe, ruling in the synagogue,
the other as priest, ruling in the temple. Life on the
outside was thickly plastered over with pious rules and
practices, but on the inside it was full of dead men's
bones. The publican, the sinner and the harlot flaunted
their vices in the eyes of all ; and the bitter critics of
these abandoned classes practised the same sins in
their hearts.
Even as one reads the body of the Gospels, the
impression one receives is that, till Christ came and
converted a few, piety was extinct. But this impres
sion is corrected by these stories of the childhood of
Jesus. As in the days of Elijah, when the great proph
et complained that he was left alone in the land, his

BIRTH AND UPBRINGING. 195
countrymen having in a body gone over to idolatry,
God was able to inform him that there were seven
thousand in Israel who had not bowed the knee to
Baal, so in this dark age there were scattered saints
in every part of the land — Elizabeths, Josephs, Marys,
Simeons, Annas — who were keeping the fire of true
religion unextinguished. Even in the temple — the
focus of evil — a man was to be found like Zacharias,
who when he had come up to Jerusalem in the order
of his course to fulfil the order of his priesthood, and
when he was chosen by lot to burn incense — the sign
that the prayers of Israel were ascending to heaven
at the hour of prayer — did not merely perform the
ceremony, but accompanied the mechanical act with
such fervent intercessions that an archangel was at
tracted from heaven to assure him that his prayers
were heard.
In the hymn of Mary, when she greeted Elizabeth,
and in the hymn of Zacharias, when his tongue was
loosed on the occasion of his child's circumcision, we
are enabled to see into the very hearts of all who were
of their way of thinking and to recover the contents of
their minds.
The most prominent feature was an intense patriot
ism. They dwelt on the memories of their country's
glorious past, and into their very souls had entered
the iron of its dishonor: but, above all, they fed
their hopes on the promises given to Abraham and
to David which still awaited their fulfilment. Com
bined with this was an intense love for the Holy
Scriptures. In them they were brought into contact

196 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
with the godly figures of the past ages, in communion
with whom they found the companionship which the
degenerate generation by which they were surrounded
did not afford. The hymns of Mary and Zacharias
are saturated with the spirit and the language of the
lyrics of the Old Testament. And, along with devo
tion to the Scriptures, another prominent feature of
the piety of these people was prayer. Assured that
God's promise could not fail they ardently pleaded
for the dawn of a better day, and especially for the
advent of the Messiah. When Gabriel announced to
Zacharias that his prayer was heard, it is generally
supposed he meant his prayer for a son. But for
such a gift Zacharies had long ceased to plead: it
was for the coming of the Messiah he had been pray
ing; and this was the prayer of all like-minded
people. Thinly scattered throughout the population
they yet knew one another, and, as occasion allowed,
blew into flame the fire of hope and devotion in one
another's hearts. They were for the most part poor
and obscure, like Joseph the carpenter or the shep
herds of Bethlehem ; but they looked for changes
which would reverse the judgments of the world by
which they were condemned to neglect and contempt.
Thus did Mary sing, " He hath put down the mighty
from their seats, and exalted them of low degree;
He hath filled the hungry with good things, and the
rich he hath sent empty away."
Not only are there good people in the worst of
times, but to them, however few and humble they may
be, the future belongs. Principalities and powers may

BIRTH AND UPBRINGING. tQ?
lord it over them ; wickedness in high places may be
contemptuous ; the notorieties of the hour may dazzle
them down ; but those in whose hearts and in whose
homes the altar-fire of truth, righteousness and piety is
kept burning are the true kings, and their hour will
come. Some day there will pass through their ranks
from mouth to mouth the cry, " To us a Child is born,
to us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon
His shoulder." In these stories of the childhood of
Jesus we see how, in a moment, the sadness of those
who were clinging to principle and waiting for the king
dom of God can be turned into joy, and their silence
and sighing become hymns of praise. From Mary to
Zacharias, from the shepherds to Simeon and Anna,
the inspiration passed ; and their closed lips were
opened to hail the good time that had come. And this
is a prophecy of that which will happen to all who live
in the same attitude ; for " light is sown for the right
eous and gladness for the upright in heart."
A third lesson which is taught by the story of the
Baptist's birth and upbringing is the influence of parents.
It has been already said that the Baptist might
himself have frustrated the purpose of God in his life.
In order that the divine plan might be fulfilled it was
necessary that his own mind and will should rise into
harmony and co-operation with it. But it was also de
pendent on the sympathy and the efforts of his parents.
Had they not appreciated the design of God in their
son's life, and brought him up with this in view, all
might have been lost.

I98 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
The character of Zacharias and Elizabeth is de
scribed in attractive terms : " They were both righteous
before God, walking in all the commandments and or
dinances of the Lord blameless." The father was a
priest, and so there was an atmosphere of religion in
the home. But this may not always be an advan
tage. Where religion is a man's occupation there
must be the form of godliness ; but this may only
make the contrast the more glaring between profession
and practice. The eyes of the young are quick to de
tect such inconsistencies ; and perhaps the most dan
gerous position in which a young and observant boy
can grow up is a home where religion is a trade, but
not a life. That incident in the temple, however, already
referred to, proves that Zacharias' religion had an in
side as well as an outside. When he was offering in
cense, he was at the same time offering what the incense
symbolized — fervent prayer. Besides, the hymn of the
father and the greeting of the mother to Mary show
that both were acquainted with the poetry of religion.
Their religion was a faithful discharge of duty ; but it
was not all duty ; it was a passion and an enthusiasm as
well. It is said of them both that they were filled with
the Holy Ghost. This is the kind of religion that wins
young hearts — where they see that it is not a yoke, but
the secret of blessedness. It was of special significance
that in this home both parents were godly. The mother
had not to weep because the boy's father was thwarting
her teaching by his example, nor the father to sigh that
the mother's unsanctified nature was hardening his son.
Then, there would be the more distant influence of rela-

BIRTH AND UPBRINGING. 1 99
tives and acquaintances of like spirit with the father and
mother ; for we may be certain that the friends of this
family would be the excellent of the earth.
Happy is he or she who has such a father and
mother, and whose childhood is nurtured in such a
home. Out of such homes have come the men who
have been the reformative and regenerative forces of
the world. The influence of the mother is especially
noteworthy ; nearly all men who have been conspicu
ously great and good have owed much to their mothers.
In this narrative the mother is less prominent than the
father ; but enough is told to show what manner of
spirit she was of. One likes to think of the three
months spent by Mary under her roof. The homage
paid by Elizabeth to her on whom had been bestowed
the greater honor of being the mother of the Lord was
an anticipation of the humility of her son, when he said,
" He must increase, but I must decrease."
Their home is said to have been " in a city of
Judah," which some have proposed to read " the city
of Juttah," a priestly town to the south of Jerusalem.
Others have thought of Hebron, another priestly town
in the same region. But it is useless to attempt any
determination of the exact place.
Whatever the town was, here " he grew and waxed
strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his
showing unto Israel." He was not an educated man
in the technical sense. He did not go to Jerusalem and
sit at the feet of Gamaliel. He was self-taught, as the
saying is ; perhaps in this case we ought rather to say
God-taught. It is curious to note how many of the

200 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
world's greatest men have owed nothing to schools and
colleges. Universities can polish the -intellect, but can
they add to its primordial mass ? When the mass of
intellect is great, sometimes it is all the more impressive
and effective for not being polished too much. The
Baptist's discourses show that he was not ignorant of
the world ; so that we must not understand too literally
the statement that he was in the deserts. But, if he
visited towns and there observed human life, and if he
visited Jerusalem and there scrutinized the state of re
ligion, he retired to the deserts to brood over what he
had seen. He brooded long. It does not appear that
his ministry began much before that of Jesus ; and, as
Jesus was thirty years old when He went forth to
preach, John must have been about the same age when
he was shown unto Israel. All this time his thoughts
had been accumulating; deeper and deeper, as he
wandered brooding among the solitudes, grew his con
victions, " as streams their channels deeper wear." At
last he came forth, clothed with a force like that of the
bare elements of nature, and speaking with the impres-
siveness of the thunder and the vividness of the light
ning. On the title page of this volume a sentence is
quoted, from one of Mrs. Jameson's books on Sacred
Art, to the effect that " in devotional pictures we often
see St. John the Evangelist and St. John the Baptist
standing together, one on each side of Christ." To
what link of association is this conjunction due? The
identity of name may have something to do with it.

BIRTH AND UPBRINGING. 20t
Besides, the two were at least distantly connected by
the tie of nature ; for the Baptist's mother is called " the
cousin" — a vague word in Greek — of Mary, the mother
of Jesus, and, as the Evangelist's mother was in all
probability Mary's sister, it is likely that the Evangelist
was related to the Baptist in the same way as Jesus was.
But the tie which binds the two together in the Chris
tian mind is. rather that indicated by the words, " One
on each side of Christ." The two St. Johns form the
extreme links of the chain of evangelic testimony.
The Baptist had the privilege of being the first to point
out the Messiah ; the Evangelist bore the last and most
consummate witness to the glory of the Son of God.

202 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
CHAPTER II.
THE PROPHET.
Matthew 3 : 1-12; Mark 1 :i-8; Luke 3 : 1-18.
Some preachers derive a certain amount of influ
ence from the impression made by their personal
appearance. When, as in the case of Chalmers, on
the broad and ample forehead there rests the air of
philosophic thought, and in the liquid eye there shines
the sympathy of a benevolent nature, the goodwill of
the congregation is conciliated before a word is uttered.
Still more fascinating is the impression when, as in the
case of Newman, the stern and emaciated figure sug
gests the secret fasts and midnight vigils of one who
dwells in a hidden world, out of which he comes with
a divine message to his followers.
In the highest degree this advantage attached to
the preaching of the Baptist, whose appearance must
have been very striking. His hair was long and un
kempt ; and his features were tanned with the sun and
the air of the desert. Probably they were thinned too
by austerity ; for his habitual food was of the simplest
order, consisting only of locusts and wild honey. Lo
custs, dried and preserved, form still, at the present
day, an article of food in the East, but only among the
very poor: people in the least degree luxurious or
scrupulous would not look at it Wild honey, formed
by hives of bees in the crevices of rocks or in rifted

THE PROPHET. 203
trees, abounds in the desert-places of Palestine, and
may be gathered by anyone who wanders there. The
raiment of the Baptist corresponded with his food, con
sisting of a garment of the very coarsest and cheapest
cloth, made of camel's hair. The girdle of the Oriental
is an article of clothing on which a great deal of taste
and expense is laid out, being frequently of fine mate
rial and gay coloring, with the added adornment of
elaborate needlework ; but the girdle with which John's
garment was confined was no more than a rough band
of leather. Everything, in short, about his external
appearance denoted one who had reduced the claims of
the body to the lowest possible terms, that he might
devote himself entirely to the life of the spirit.
John was a Nazarite. The Nazarite vow seems to
have been of very ancient origin, perhaps having ex
isted earlier than the beginning of the history of the
Hebrew people. But it was adopted into the Mosaic
legislation. It was voluntary ; and it was usually tem
porary. For ascetic purposes an Israelite might resolve
to be for a certain term of months or years a Nazarite,
and at the end of this period he could, by the perform
ance of certain ceremonies, lay the ascetic habit aside
and return to ordinary life. The Baptist, however, was
like some other great men of his race, such as Samuel
and Samson, a Nazarite for life. The vow consisted in
letting the hair grow uncut and in abstinence from the
fruit of the vine in every shape and form. The object
of it was to subdue the bodily appetites and to cultivate
an unworldly life in fellowship with God.
Among the learned there has been much discussion

204 ST- JOHN THE BAPTISf.
as to whether the Baptist, besides being a Nazarite, was
an Essene. The Essenes are named by Josephus and
other ancient writers along with the Pharisees and Sad
ducees as a third school of religious thought among
the Jews, but they are never mentioned in the New
Testament. They were ascetics, who fled from the
world and lived as a separate community in the same
desert of Judah in which John spent his days before his
appearance to Israel. It has even been disputed whether
Jesus did not belong to them and owe to them some of
his doctrines. But Christianity is fundamentally op
posed to .Essenism in the high regard it pays to the
body, and in its doctrine that the religious life is to be
lived not out of the world but in it. John's teaching,
too, is widely separated from the false unworldliness of
the Essenes, though in some respects his manner of life
resembled theirs. The most curious point of agree
ment is that the highest object of Essene aspiration was
to attain to the spirit of Elijah. Now, John in some re
spects strikingly resembled Elijah. Not only did his
external appearance recall that ancient prophet, who is
expressly described, in 2 Kings 1 : 8, as "a hairy man,
and girt with a girdle of leather about his loins," but the
angel who foretold his birth stated that he would be
clothed with the spirit and power of Elijah. The Bap
tist's relations to Herod and Herodias were closely par
allel to those of Elijah to Ahab and Jezebel ; and the
suddenness with which he burst into view out of the
desert in which he had spent his youth recalled the
great prophet who, from his solitary cell on Mount
Carmel, used to descend to beard the monarch in his

THE PROPHET. 205
palace or to challenge the assembled nation to choose
between Jehovah and Baal. Our Lord himself taught
that in the Baptist Elijah had returned to rouse and
warn the people of God.
The audiences of different preachers vary exceed
ingly. They vary in size. Some preachers, even when
they are appreciated, preach to a handful ; others draw
the million. They vary in quality. Some preachers
appeal only to a single class, it may be to the cultivated,
their words being " caviare to the general," or it may
be to the common people, their manner offending the
fastidious ; but the greatest preachers draw all classes.
John did so emphatically. Jerusalem and all
Judaea went out to him. No sooner did his voice
sound in the desert than an electric thrill seemed to
pass through the country ; there arose a rumor and a
fame, and the population streamed out en masse to hear
him. The Pharisee, ever intent on examining any new
phenomenon appearing in the religious world, was there
as a matter of course ; but so was the Sadducee, whose
cold soul was usually inaccessible to religious excite
ment. The scribe was there, to hear what new doctrine
the famous preacher would produce from the Scriptures,
which were the subject of his own study ; but the publi
can and the harlot were also there, who in general cared
nothing for Scriptures or doctrines. Even soldiers are
mentioned as among John's auditors, though whether
these were Roman or Jewish is uncertain.
The scene of the ministry to which this motley
multitude flocked was the valley of the Jordan. Differ-

206 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
ent points of the valley are mentioned by different
Evangelists, from the desert of Judah on the south to
the ford of Bethabara, just below the Sea of Galilee, on
the north. These differences as to locality have been
treated as discrepancies ; but surely without reason. A
preacher would naturally move from place to place, and
be sometimes on one side of the river and sometimes
on the other. The slight indications which are supplied
in the Gospels seem to show that John moved, on the
whole, from south to north, beginning in the south, near
his home, and ending in the north, near the abode of
Herod, by whom his career was stopped.
It is especially worthy of note that the population
" went out " to John. He did not go to them— to their
cities, their synagogues or their temple. The idea of
our modern Home Mission movement is to carry the
Gospel to the people — to the lanes and courts of the
city, to the miner's hut and the fisherman's resort, to
the man on the street and the woman in the house — so
that they cannot get away from it ; and we speak fer
vently of our methods as aggressive. But it should not
be forgotten that there is another method — the attract
ive. Speak the right word, and you will not need to
press men to come and hear it. The spiritual instincts
of human nature may be dormant, but they are not
dead. Let the right music sound outside, and the hid
den man of the heart will rise and come to the window
to look out and listen.- No obstacles can keep people
away when a voice sufficiently charged with the Holy
Ghost is heard. John had only to lift up his voice, and
the entire country hastened to hear him.

THE PROPHET. 207
The message of this preacher was exceedingly
simple. It contained only two watchwords, the one
being "Repent," the other, "The kingdom of heaven
is at hand."
Repentance is perhaps not the best rendering of
the first note of John's message ; conversion would be
a more literal translation. It was for an entire change
in the habits of thought and conduct that John called ;
and this change included not only the forsaking of sin
but the seeking of God. Still, the forsaking of sin was
very prominent in John's demands ; for we are told
how pointedly he referred to the favorite sins of differ
ent classes. When the publicans asked, " What shall
we do?" he had his answer ready,. " Exact no more
than that which is appointed you ;" unjust and vexa
tious exactions being notoriously the sin of this class.
So, when the soldiers demanded, " What shall we do ?"
he pointed his finger straight at their besetting sins,
when he said, " Do violence to no man, neither accuse
any falsely, and be content with your wages." The
boldness of such preaching is manifest : the last men
tioned word, for instance, " Be content with your
wages," was probably no more popular then than it
would be if preached to the poor at the present day.
But, if John preached fearlessly to the poor, he had a
no less practical message to the rich ; for to them he
said, " He that hath two coats, let him impart to him
that hath none ; and he that hath meat, let him do like
wise." It is extraordinary how evil habit can, genera
tion after generation, override the most elementary
instincts of justice and humanity. The average con-

208 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
duct of both the masses and the classes is at the pres
ent day in many respects just as distorted as it was in
the days of the Baptist. But the true prophet is he
who can see how far the line of custom diverges from
the line of righteousness and can summon forth the con
science of every man to acknowledge it too.
The other note of John's preaching was the king
dom of God. This was not a novel watchward. The
ideal of the Jews had always been a theocracy. When
Saul, their first king, was appointed, the prophet
Samuel condemned the act of the people as a lapse :
they ought to have wished no king but God. And
when, in subsequent ages, the kings of the land with
rare exceptions turned out miserable failures, the bet
ter and deeper spirits always sighed for a reign of
God, which would ensure national prosperity. The
deeper the nation sank the more passionate grew this
aspiration ; and when the good time coming was
thought of, it was always in the form of a kingdom of
God. It is, indeed, a point which has been much
discussed, how far such hopes were prevalent immedi
ately before the Advent. But the New Testament
itself proves incontestably that the expectation of the
Messianic king was one of the principal features of
the deep and hidden piety of the land, while Messianic
hopes of a totally different order, crude and earthly,
were widely diffused among the people. At all events,
in the Jewish mind there was latent a whole system
of Messianic ideas, which only a hint was required to
awaken into activity.
It was to this that John appealed when he cried,

THE PROPHET. 209
" The kingdom of God is at hand." But his most
effective word was the hint that not only the king
dom but the King was coming. His favorite way of
characterizing himself was " as the voice of one crying
in the wilderness, ' Prepare ye the way of the Lord.' "
In the East, when a king was making a progress
through any part of his dominions, a herald preceded
him, to announce his approach and to clear the way.
If no road existed one had to be made, valleys being
filled up and even mountains and hills levelled for
the purpose. Every obstacle, in short, had to be
removed, and the hearts of men prepared for the
king's reception. Such was the office which John
claimed to fill in the programme of the Messianic
King. The two portions of John's message — repentance
and the kingdom of God — were closely connected : he
called on men to repent that they might be ready
for the King when he came. Indeed, here was the very
point of the Baptist's preaching. He was profoundly
convinced that his countrymen were not prepared,
and that no kingdom of God could be formed out of
them as they were. They, indeed, had no idea of
this themselves; but this ignorance was the supreme
obstacle. They imagined that, simply because they
were children of Abraham, they could go in a body
into the kingdom; but he cried; "Begin not to say
within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father."
Children of Abraham! rather, I should say, children
of the old serpent are ye — " O generation of vipers."
The King, when he came, would not admit them, as
H

2IO ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
a matter of course, into his kingdom : on the con
trary, the very first thing he would do would be to
sit as a judge, to separate the good from the evil.
" His fan is in his hand, and he will throughly purge
his floor, and will gather the wheat into his garner,
but will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire."
This "wrath to come" must be the first act of the
•Messiah's activity. John, therefore, called upon men
at once to be converted, that they might be con
sidered meet to enter into the kingdom when Messiah-
came. Words and professions would be of no- avail —
" Bring forth fruits meet for repentance."
Is it not obvious that this is a message for all time?
In one sense the Baptist's ministry was an evanescent
one: when Christ came, there was no place for him
any more. But in another sense the Baptist is always
needed. Christ comes to many; but he receives no
welcome because they feel no need of him. Unless
a man knows that he is lost, the announcement of a
Saviour has no attraction for his mind. The deeper
the sense of sin, the firmer the grasp of salvation. In
the kingdom of God the hungry are filled with good
things, but the rich are sent empty away.
The prophets of Israel were poets as well as
preachers ; and one way in which they displayed their
poetical endowment was by the invention of physical
symbols to represent the truths which they also ex
pressed in words. Thus, it will be remembered,
Jeremiah at one period went about Jerusalem wearing
a yoke on his shoulders, in order to impress on his

THE PROPHET. .211
fellow-citizens the certainty that they were to become
subject to the Babylonian power; and similar sym
bolical actions of other prophets will occur to every
Bible reader. In the Baptist, ancient prophecy, after
centuries of silence, had come to life again ; and he
demonstrated that he was the true heir of men like
Isaiah and Jeremiah by the exercise also of this
poetical gift. He embodied his teaching not only in
words, but in an expressive symbol. And never was
symbol more felicitously chosen; for baptism exactly
expressed the main drift of his teaching.
Perhaps in the invention of this symbol John was
not altogether original. The truth is, washing with
water is so natural and beautiful a symbol of spiritual
cleansing and renewal that it has been used by relig
ious teachers as an initiatory rite in all ages and in
all parts of the world. It is said to have been in use
in the Holy Land before the age of the Baptist as
part of the ceremonial by which a heathen was made
a proselyte of the Jewish faith. If this be correct,
the fact lends to John's adoption of the rite peculiar
significance. His countrymen were already familiar
with the notion that a heathen, in order to be ad
mitted to a place among the people of God, had to
undergo a change which baptism symbolized: he
had to wash away his old sins ; he had, in fact, to die
to his old life, and to become a new creature. But
it had never before occurred to them that they them
selves, the seed of Abraham, required any such trans
formation before entering the kingdom of the Messiah.
When, therefore, John called upon them to submit

212 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
to baptism he was teaching the same lesson as our
Lord taught Nicodemus when he said, " Except a
man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of
God." Another important end which baptism served in
the ministry of John was that it brought his hearers
to decision, and was a means by which they made
confession. Under the preaching of the Word im
pressions are often made by which the heart is melted
and the whole being thrown into a state of aspiration ;
but, because nothing is done to bring the mind to a
point, emotion cools down, ordinary motives resume
their sway, and nothing comes of the impressions. It
is well known how missions and revival preachers try
to obviate this risk by inquiry meetings, testimony
meetings, and the like; and, though such methods
may be abused, they have their value. The most
august method of the kind is participation in the
Lord's Supper. This sacrament is, like the baptism.
of John, a symbol of truth ; but it is also a means of
bringing those who have been impressed with the
truth to the point of confessing Christ. And, if John's
call impressed the honest and good hearts among his
auditors when he urged them to come forward, in the
eyes of all, and submit themselves to the rite of bap
tism, surely the voice of Jesus Christ should move
us far more when he says, " Do this in remembrance
of me."

Matthe

THE BAPTISM OF JESUS. 21 3
CHAPTER III.
THE BAPTISM OF JESUS.
:w 4:13-17; Mark 1:9-11; Luke 3:21, 22.
The multitudes were baptized of John in Jordan,
" confessing their sins." His preaching of the terrors
of the law revealed the secrets of men's hearts to
themselves, and they were glad, by the word of con
fession, to exorcise what they felt to be condemning
them. Many a confession he heard from lips which
had never been opened to confess before ; and the sad
and bad secrets were made known to him of many a
life which in the eyes of the world looked spotless. In
such a situation he must have learned to know the
weaknesses of the human heart ; and it would not sur
prise him to hear that there were guilty memories
gnawing and tormenting many a breast in which the
world would never have expected them.
But one day there appeared among the applicants
for the baptismal rite One who, at the first glance, he
was so- certain had no sin to confess that he drew back
and said, " I have need to be baptized of Thee, and
comest Thou to me ?" In other cases John may have
refused to administer the rite because repentance was
not deep enough ; in this cas*; fee refused because
repentance was unnecessary. The task of John was to
bring sin home to the consciences of men ; but here
was One who brought it home to his own conscience.

214 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
As he looked on Jesus, the baptizer felt that he himself
needed to be baptized ; as, in comparison with daz
zling whiteness, even some kinds of white look grey.
John was the boldest of men : Pharisee or priest,
soldier or king could not make him quail: but he
quailed before this Applicant who sought the benefit
of his office.
If John knew Jesus before this there is nothing
surprising in the scene. But John is made by one of
the Evangelists to state that till this day he had not
known Jesus. It has been argued, indeed, that this
may only mean that he did not, before he saw the
signs vouchsafed on this occasion, know him as he
really was — as the Messiah. He must have known
him, it is held, as a man, because their families were
closely related ; and, although the one family lived in
Galilee and the other in Judaea, they had opportunities
of seeing one another at the feasts in Jerusalem, which
both families were sure to attend. These seem cogent
arguments ; but there may have been many reasons, to
us unknown, for their never having seen one another
before this day; and the unsocial habits of John, reach
ing back we know not how far into his early life, sug
gest a reason which may have been sufficient to keep
them apart.
If John never saw Jesus before, the impression
made on his mind and conscience by this first encoun
ter is a striking ^ferelation of the character of Jesus.
There are rare faces which in some degree make the
same impression. There sits on them an air of purity
and peace, which, without words, tell its story — the

THE BAPTISM OF JESUS. 21 5
story of a hidden life spent in walking with God — and
many people would confess that they have been made
more sensible of the coarseness of the fibre of their
own nature and the raggedness of their own conduct
by being brought casually face to face with such a
breathing image of goodness than by the exposure of
the most subtle moral analysis or the denunciations of
a hundred sermons. In the life of Christ there are
numerous instances of the overwhelming effect which
the mere aspect of his personality in some of its moods
was able to produce.' It will be remembered how in
the boat St. Peter fell down before him and, grovelling,
cried, " Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O
Lord ;" how on the last journey to Jerusalem he went
on in front of the Twelve and " they were amazed, and
as they followed, they were afraid ;" and how in Geth
semane the soldiers sent to apprehend him, when they
beheld him, started back and fell on their faces to the
earth. There can be no doubt that when Jesus came
to the baptism of John he was in a state of unusual
exaltation, for he was on the eve of entering upon his
public work, and this rapt state of mind may have
communicated to his appearance an unusual impres-
siveness ; so that, even before ascertaining who he was,
John recoiled with a religious dread, as in the presence
' of a superior being. As in his mother's womb the
babe leaped when the Lord drew near, so now an
overpowering instinct impelled him to draw back from
assuming towards him a position which seemed to be
that of a superior.
The first meeting of these two is a unique scene.

2l6 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
They were of nearly the same age ; they were related
according to the flesh ; they were both men of pro
phetic endowment, sent to produce in their native coun
try a religious reformation. Yet, in spite of these and
other points of resemblance, there could not have
been two characters more absolutely contrasted. Jesus
marked the contrast in the broadest way when he
subsequently said, "John the Baptist came neither
eating bread nor drinking wine ; and ye say, He hath
a devil : the Son of man is come eating and drinking,
and ye say, Behold a gluttonous man and a wine-
bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners." John was
the child of the desert, courting solitude and avoiding
human society; Jesus followed a homely trade, ap
peared at marriages and feasts, was a friend of women
and children, and was as much at home in the busy
city as on the mountain top. John called the multi
tude out to the desert to hear him and did not con
descend to visit the haunts of men ; Jesus went to sin
ners where he could find them, considering it his duty
to seek as well as to save that which was lost. John
has a seared look ; he is a man who, after severe strug
gles, has obtained the mastery of himself and is hold
ing down a coarse nature by main force ; Jesus, on the
contrary, is always innocent and spontaneous, genial
and serene. John, in short, is the Old Testament per
sonified, Jesus the embodiment of the New ; and in
John's shrinking from baptizing Jesus the spirit of
the Old Testament — the spirit of law, wrath and aus
terity — was doing homage to the spirit of the New
Testament — the spirit of freedom and of love.

THE BAPTISM OF JESUS. 217
The application by Jesus for baptism perplexed
John ; and we must confess it perplexes us. It is not,
indeed, entirely without parallel in the life of Christ;
for his circumcision, which took place when he was
eight days old, raises the same difficulty. The diffi
culty is, that he should have participated in an ordi
nance which symbolized the removal of sin. But in
this case it is more urgent, because he made the appli
cation himself.
Did this betray a consciousness of sin ? Such was
the meaning of the application when made by others ;
and certainly this would be the natural construction to
put on the conduct of Jesus, if it were not at variance
with everything else we know about him. The sin
lessness of Jesus is one of the truths to which the
Scripture bears the clearest testimony; and it has
been believed in by many who have not accepted the
testimony of Scripture about him in some other re
spects. He claimed himself to be without sin ; and
in the accounts which have come down to us of his
prayers there does not occur a single syllable of con
fession. This is justly accounted one of the most
remarkable features of his life. Other religious char
acters have confessed their own sins; and the pro-
founder their holiness the more frequent and piercing
have been their professions. But Jesus, confessedly
the most profoundly religious figure that has appeared
in human history, made no such acknowledgements.
Why ? Was this a defect in his religious character,
or was the reason, that he had no sin to confess ? So
the Scriptures say. Not only is the image of Jesus

2l8 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
which they present one which breathes out purity from
every feature, but they expressly assert, in many differ
ent forms of statement, that he was holy and harmless
and undefiled and separate from sinners. Even on
this occasion the impression which he made on John
was that he had no need of baptism to take away sin ;
and his own statement, " Thus it becometh us to fulfil
all righteousness," seems to imply that up to this point
he was conscious of perfectly fulfilling the divine law.
Therefore, his application cannot be explained as evi
dence that he was conscious of sin.
What, then, is the explanation? Why did one
who had no sin seek to participate in an ordinance
which was expressly called the baptism of repentance ?
It is by no means easy to answer.
It has often been asserted that the explanation is
given in the reply of Jesus to John, " Suffer it to be so
now ; for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteous
ness." But these words only inform us that he felt it
to be his duty to take part in the ordinance ; they do
not tell us why he considered it obligatory.
Some have dismissed the difficulty by saying that
it was a marvellous instance of the Saviour's humility,
that he, the sinless One, should submit to an ordinance
intended for sinners. And they have added poetic re
flections to the effect that, while the water cleansed
others, he cleansed the water, and so on. But this is
no explanation. Neither is the suggestion satisfactory,
that he took part in it to encourage others. John's
baptism, it is said, was a great religious movement;
and Jesus, as a religious character, could not keep out

THE BAPTISM OF JESUS. 219
of it. He countenanced all religious services, and was
so strict in his attention to those of the synagogue
and the temple as to recall to the minds of onlookers
the saying, " The zeal of thine house hath eaten me
up." Now, it is true that Christ did give an ever-
memorable example of conscientiousness in attendance
upon religious services; and this habit may be in
cluded in the " all righteousness " which it had ever
been his desire to fulfil. But this would not account
for, or even justify, his participation in an ordinance
which had no meaning for himself. It might account
for his baptizing, but not for his being baptized.
Only two explanations seem really to touch the
quick. The one is that John's baptism had a positive
as well as a negative side. It was not only the bap
tism of repentance, but a rite of dedication. It was a
renewal of the national covenant, the inauguration of
a new era, the gateway of the kingdom of God. Now,
although Jesus had no part in the sin from which bap
tism cleansed, he had part in this positive enthusiasm :
he was the very person to lead the way into the new
era. The other explanation, which may very easily be
combined with this one, is that he received baptism as
a representative person. Although sinless himself, he
was a member of a sinful nation, of whose sin he was
keenly conscious — more so than any other whom John
baptized — and he went along with the rest of the
nation in making confession. In short, he was in this
act rehearsing beforehand the great act of his death,
when he bore in his own body on the tree the sins of
the world.

220 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
John may not as yet have understood why Jesus
wished to be baptized ; but, with the same reverence
with which he had shrunk from administering the
rite, he yielded when Jesus repeated his request.
The manner in which this mysterious candidate
received the rite must still further have heightened
John's respect and awe. St. Luke informs us that
Jesus came up from the water praying. This is a
solemn hint as to the spirit in which all divine ordi
nances ought to be received. When we come to the
font seeking baptism either for ourselves or others,
when we sit at the Lord's Table, -when we are on
our way to church, when we open God's holy word —
as we take part in every such ordinance- — we may
learn from Jesus how to conduct ourselves: the best
state of mind is, to be engaged in prayer.
What may we suppose he was praying for ? If
we remember the nature of the ordinance in which
he was participating and the stage of his own devel
opment which he had reached, can we doubt that
he was praying for the coming of the kingdom of
God and for strength to play his own part in its
inauguration ?
The answer to his prayer came suddenly and
impressively. While he was yet speaking his Father
in heaven heard, and three wonders happened : first,
the heavens were opened; secondly, the Holy Spirit,
in the form of a dove, descended on him ; and, thirdly,
a voice came from heaven, saying, " This is my be
loved Son, in whom I am well pleased."

THE BAPTISM OF JESUS. 221
At this point many questions arise. First, what
is meant by the heavens opening? The language
used in the Evangelists is very graphic, suggesting
that the appearance occurred of a rent being made in
the blue vault, by which the invisible things which
lie within were disclosed. But what does this mean
to us, who are well aware that the visible heaven is
not what it was thought to be by the infant mind
of the race — the floor of a celestial palace, the oc
cupants and furnishings of which might be seen if
an opening were made in the ceiling of our earthly
abode ?
Then, what was the dove which descended on
Jesus? Was there a real dove, which, attracted by
his gentleness, alighted on him, as such creatures,
when domesticated, will sometimes do on persons to
whom they are drawn by kindness and amiability ? Or
was the dove a form of light which glided, with dove
like motion, down on his head, to point him out, as
at Saul's conversion a light above the brightness of
the sun shone round about him ? An ancient legend
says that the whole valley of the Jordan was illumi
nated. And what was the voice? Was it thunder,
which in Scripture is frequently called the voice of
God ? There were other scenes in the life of Christ
when divine voices from heaven were heard for his
benefit, and on at least one of these occasions the by
standers heard thunder and nothing more, whilst in
the ears of those more directly concerned the sound
shaped itself into an articulate divine message ; and it
seems a reasonable inference that the other divine

222 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
voices — the present one among them — were of the
same description.
This raises the question whether the multitude, on
this occasion, or only Jesus and John, heard the di
vine voice. Some devout interpreters have held that
all three signs took place in the consciousness of Jesus
and John alone, and had no place in the world of the
senses. But judgments on such a point are largely
subjective, and it is not for one Christian to impose
his opinions on another.
At all events, the signs were of divine origin ; and
both to Jesus and John they were of the utmost value.
For Jesus this was a transfiguring moment— -one
of the cardinal points in the development of his human
ity, marking his transition from the life of a private'
man to the career of a public teacher. Some suppose
that it was at this point he became fully conscious of
his unique relationship to God and grasped in all its
majesty the plan of his subsequent career. There
is more unanimity in the belief that it was now he
was endowed with the miraculous powers of which he
was to make use in his ministry. In the gospels his
miracles are ascribed to the Holy Spirit. This does
not mean that his own divine power was not at work
in them, but that his human nature required to be
potentiated by special gifts of the Holy Spirit, in order
to be a fit organ through which his divinity might act.
And perhaps it. was at this time that these gifts were
conferred. Such questions belong, however, rather
to the life of Christ ; and at present we are concerned
with the life of the Baptist.

THE BAPTISM OF JESUS. 223
To John this was a moment big with destiny.
Before this, in his secret intercourse with God — but
at what exact date and in what exact manner we
know not — he had received a premonition to this
effect: "Upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit de
scending, and remaining on him, the same is he which
baptizeth with the Holy Ghost." This, then, was the
sign for which he had been waiting; this was the day
for which he had been born. The appearance of the
sign was the assurance that all the revelations of his
desert experience and all the words he had ventured
to utter in the name of God were true. The new era
which he had announced was no mirage which would
disappear, as the visions of enthusiasts have often
done. Here, under his very eyes and in his very
hands, was the King, to whom it belonged to set up
and to establish the kingdom of God.

224 ST- JOHN THE BAPTIST.
CHAPTER IV.
HIS TESTIMONY TO CHRIST.
John 1:19-37; 3 : 25-36-
The culmination of the Baptist's personal experi
ence was reached when, standing in the water of Jor
dan, he saw and heard the signs with which the baptism
of Jesus was accompanied. But still he had a great
work to do in bearing testimony to the Messiah. There
are three recorded occasions on which he did so : the
first when a deputation was sent to him from Jerusalem
by the ecclesiastical authorities ; the second when he
pointed Jesus out to his own disciples as the Messiah ;
and the third when he rebuked the attempt of his dis
ciples to stir up rivalry between Jesus and himself.
And on each of these occasions John not only bore
conscious witness to Christ, but at the same time un
consciously revealed his own character.
There are three names applied by John to Christ, in
which his testimony is summed up, and which may be
taken as clews to this part of his life — the Son of God,
the Lamb of God, the Bridegroom.
It was entirely proper that the ecclesiastical author
ities at Jerusalem should send a deputation to ask the
Baptist who he was. They asked first if he was the
Messiah, then if he was Elijah, then if he was "that
prophet," meaning probably by this term the great

HIS TESTIMONY TO CHRIST. 225
prophet whose coming was predicted by Moses in the
famous words of Deut. 18:15: " The Lord God shall
raise up unto thee a prophet, from the midst of thy
brethren, like unto me; unto him ye shall heark-
en. It may surprise us that to the question whether he
were Elijah he answered No, when on the Holy Mount
our Lord identified him with that prophet : " But I say
unto you that Elias is come already, and they have
done unto him whatsoever they listed." But John and
Jesus used the name in different senses. Besides, John
might be Elijah without knowing it. His distinguish
ing grace was humility; he did not know how great he
was ; ' he wist not that his face shone ;" he did not
dare to identify himself with one held in such supreme
estimation as Elijah. When asked to say what he was,
he would only say, " I am a voice " — the nearest thing
to nothing. A voice may, indeed, produce momentous
effects, if it sounds at the right moment; and John
hoped to do so ; but as a voice dies on the air and is
forgotten, so he expected to pass out of sight and out
of mind. Observing his lowly estimate of himself, we are
rather surprised to notice the credit given him for not
claiming to be the Messiah — " He confessed," says St.
John, "and denied not, but confessed, I am not the
Christ" — as if he might have done otherwise, or had
been tempted to do so. Was he ever thus tempted ?
There seems to be no doubt that there existed in the
masses of the people plenty of latent Messianic expec
tation ; and one who had made an impression so pro-
15

226 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
found could easily have set on fire this combustible
material. Some of John's adherents may have hoped
that he would do so. Perhaps also there may have
been a time when he had not yet become conscious of
the limits of his own commission — before he was specif
ically informed of the part he was to play as the fore
runner of Him who was to come. But if ever any
such ambitious ideas had harbored in his mind or been
pressed upon him by others, he was able at the proper
moment to divest himself of them ; and at last he tram
pled them beneath his feet.
" I am not the Christ," he said with decision ;
" but," he added, " there standeth One among you
whom ye know not ;" and then he reverted to a figure
of speech often employed in his earlier ministry, and
touchingly expressive of the lowly estimate he had
formed of his relation to the Messiah. His shoes, he
said, he was unable to bear, and his shoe-latchet he was
unworthy to unloose. To bear the shoes of a person
or unloose his shoe-latchet was among the humblest
offices performed by slaves ; and thus John protested
that he was not worthy to be even the slave of the Mes
siah. On some occasions, when he made use of this com
parison to designate his own insignificance and Christ's
superiority, he added words which showed how well he
knew wherein the difference between them lay : " I,"
he said, "baptize with water, but he will baptize with
the Holy Ghost and with fire." He felt that his own
work was superficial, external, cold : it was only bap
tism with water. But there are defilements which can-

HIS TESTIMONY TO CHRIST. 227
not be removed with water. The ore, for example, in
which metals are embedded has to be cast into the fur
nace that the dross and dirt may be removed with fire
and the silver or gold come forth pure. And equally
searching is the purification required by human souls.
It is not enough to break off notorious sins, as John
commanded his hearers to do ; there must be kindled
in the heart the love of God and the enthusiasm of hu
manity. John's work was negative ; but it required as
its completement a positive work — to create in the
heart from which sin had been expelled the passion for
goodness. In short, in addition to the baptism of wa
ter, John knew there was needed the baptism of fire ;
and he was well aware he had not this to give.
This gift which John possessed, of seeing over and
beyond his own work, is one of the most remarkable,
and can only be found where there exist a rare self-
knowledge and a rare humility. To the worker his
own work is usually ultimate ; it reaches as far as the
horizon and up to the zenith ; and this is all the more
likely to be the case the more earnest is the man. The
evangelist, for example, thinks that the great work of
the Church is conversion, and he has little conception
of the importance of the slow formation of character ;
the pastor, on the other hand, who has watched over
the young of his congregation and instilled into their
minds the principles of the gospel, may find it hard to
realize that they still require a complete change of heart
But John not only acknowledged that his own work
was merely a commencement, but saw with perfect
clearness what was needed to make it complete.

228 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
This invested with special significance the sign by
which Jesus was marked out in his baptism ; for the
sign was the descent on him of the Holy Ghost.
" God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto him,"
said John on a subsequent occasion. With this divine
fire he was not only filled, but it overflowed for the
baptism of the world.
On one occasion, referring to this descent of the
Spirit on Christ, John said, " And I saw, and bare rec
ord that this is the Son of God." This is John's first
great name for the Saviour ; but what he intended by
it has been the subject of frequent discussion. It is a
name which in different parts of Scripture has different
meanings. In the Old Testament, where it is applied
to kings and to the nation of Israel as a whole, it means
the favorite of God ; probably in Christ's time it had
come to be a popular name for the Messiah ; and in the
documents of Christianity it has the highest meaning of
all, designating the unique relationship of Jesus to God.
At which precise stage of the history of this idea the
Baptist grasped it is a fair subject for discussion. It is
not to be forgotten that John borrowed the name from
the voice from heaven which sounded at the baptism of
Jesus. Probably it meant for him all that he himself
had not but Jesus had — all that was required to finish
the work which he had begun but was not able to com
plete. It may have been while Jesus was away in the wil
derness, into which he plunged immediately after his
baptism, to endure the forty days' temptation, that the

THE TESTIMONY TO CHRIST. 229
deputation from Jerusalem came to John ; and it has
been supposed that it was immediately after Jesus re
turned from the wilderness, the temptation being fin
ished, that John pointed him out to his own followers
as the Messiah. It is easy to conceive that, after so
unique and prolonged an experience as Jesus had
passed through in the wilderness, there may have been
in his aspect something unusually impressive; and,
when he came suddenly again into the circle where the
Baptist was standing, the first look at him sent through
the forerunner's soul a revealing shock; whereupon,
with outstretched finger pointed to him, he cried,
" Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of
the world." What was the nature of the impression which had
been made on John's mind by the aspect of Jesus and
drew forth this exclamation has been a question much
discussed. Some suppose that it was by the meekness
and gentleness of Jesus he was impressed ; and that
there flashed through his mind the pictures of the
twenty-third Psalm, in which the happiness of a soul at
peace with God is set forth under the image of a sheep
or lamb in its relations with the shepherd. Many have
supposed the reference to be to the suffering servant of
the Lord in the fifty-third of Isaiah, "led as a lamb to
the slaughter." The tense look of Christ possessed
with the purpose of his life, had instantly suggested to
John how much he was likely to suffer in conflict with
the " generation of vipers," to which he had himself ap
pealed in vain. Many have supposed the reference to
be to the paschal lamb or other lambs of sacrifice. By

23O ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
a sudden inspiration John was enabled, it is supposed,
to anticipate Christ's sacrificial death. In favor of this
is recalled the fact that he was of priestly descent, and
familiar, through his father, if not through his own ex
perience, with all kinds of sacrifice.
Possibly in the impression flashed into John's mind
by the aspect of Jesus there was something of all these
thoughts — of Christ's lamb-like innocence and faith, of
his high-strung devotion likely to come into painful
collision with a coarse world, and of his death for the
world's sin. John had predicted that Jesus would bap
tize with fire — that is, that he would fill his adherents
with holy passion and enthusiasm. But how was he to
do this ? He would baptize them with the Holy Ghost.
But the Holy Ghost is not a physical influence: he
works through ideas and emotions. Where, then, were
the ideas and emotions to come from ? We know
where, historically, they have come from. They have
come from the cross of Christ. It has been by the
sight of Christ giving himself for them that human
hearts have been inspired with hatred of sin, with the
passion for holiness, with self-sacrifice and missionary
zeal. This is the Lamb of God that has, in fact,
taken away the sin of the world ; and the likelihood
is that it was this Lamb of God that John, though
perhaps through a glass, darkly, foresaw.
On this occasion also John's testimony to Jesus
was accompanied with an unconscious revelation of
his own character. After one day saying, " Behold
the Lamb of God," to his followers in general, he said
it another day to two of them in particular, who inter-

THE TESTIMONY TO CHRIST. 23 1
preted it as a direction to them to leave their master
and follow a new one. So John intended it. He freely
gave away these two disciples — two of the best, for one
of them was St. John, afterwards the Evangelist — and
others followed. It was a hardship to part from such
dear friends and companions ; but he deliberately
brought the magnet into operation which, he knew,
would draw with an irresistible attraction; for the best
hearts about him were, through the influence of his
ministry, pining for the baptism of fire which Christ was
to impart. The third occasion when John bore conspicuous
testimony to Christ was when " there arose a question
between some of John's disciples and the Jews about
purifying." In the revised version this incident is
given more correctly : " there arose a question on the
part of John's disciples with a Jew about purifying."
Who this Jew was and what was his motive, we are not
informed. The "purifying,'' however, about which he
and they disputed would appear, to have been nothing
else than baptism. Jesus, it seems, had followed the
example of John by baptizing for a time, " though
Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples." And the
new attraction proved more potent than the old, the
fickle crowd leaving John and flocking to the baptism
of his successor. If, as is likely, Jesus had begun to
preach as well as baptize, it is easy to understand how
his voice, with its gracious words, dulled the impression
even of John's eloquence. Possibly the Jew was one
who had been baptized by Jesus, and the disciples of

232 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
John fell into dispute with him as to whether the bap
tism of Christ was superior to their master's. Or per
haps he was a mischief-maker, who thought he could
set the two parties by the ears ; and he commenced
with casting up to John's disciples that their master
was being deserted, because the crowd was flocking
elsewhere. If this was his intention, he was only too success
ful. There is an unmistakable tone of irritation in the
words in which John is addressed by his disciples :
" Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom
thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and
all men come to him." The suggestion was that Jesus
had kicked away the ladder by which he had risen, and
that his success was at the expense of his friend.
It was such a speech as would have played havoc
with a little mind and an unprincipled soul. Never are
the suggestions of self-love so dangerous as when they
are whispered in the ear by the flattering lips of sympa
thizers. When thoughts of envy arise within our own
. breasts we can more easily recognize their true charac
ter ; but when they are suggested by friends they have
a deceptive air of impartiality, and we think we can
trust the estimates of outsiders. Many a man not des
titute of either greatness or goodness has been filled
with peevishness and self-pity, and even with furious
jealousy- and resentment, by just such suggestions from
his friends or family as were made to John by his disci
ples. The situation, was, indeed, a trying one. There
are few experiences more dangerous to the vanity of

HIS TESTIMONY TO CHRIST. 233
human nature than such a position as John had attained,
with its fame and rumor, its crowds, its excitement, its
success ; there are few heads which such an experience
will not turn. But, if the tide of popularity ebbs as
suddenly as it has risen, or goes away to another candi
date for public attention, the situation is still more test
ing ; in such circumstances the heart of many a public
favorite has broken. When for a lifetime a man has
stood on the pinnacle of influence, but at last his day is
over and another appears to take his place, it is a mira
cle of grace if he is able to look on his successor with
friendliness and genuine good-will.
But in John this miracle was wrought. Not for
an instant did he yield to the querulous suggestions
of his followers; but with the utmost lucidity and
serenity he set before them the logic of the situation.
" A man can receive nothing," he told them, " except
it be given him from heaven." That is to say, every
one has his own gift and his own place ; some must
be first, and some second ; there is nothing more
disastrous or ridiculous than for the second, instead
of filling his own place and doing his own work, to
be pining for the place and the work of the first.
He had been but as the star which heralds the lamp
of day. " Christ," he said, " must increase, but I
must decrease " — surely the most beautiful expression
of humility ever uttered.
But John rose far above even this in the glowing
image in which he set forth the relation between
Christ and himself: " He that hath the bride is the
bridegroom ; but the friend of the bridegroom, who

234 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because
of the bridegroom's voice; this my joy therefore is
fulfilled." In Eastern countries the friend of the
bridegroom corresponded to our groomsman; but
his duties were much more comprehensive: not only
had he to superintend the arrangements of the mar
riage, but he had even to act as intermediary in the
wooing. John had been wooing the Jewish people,
not for himself, but for Another ; but, as the friend of
the bridegroom, if he is a true man, rejoices when the
bridegroom comes upon the scene and he can retire
into the background, so he not merely did not murmur
at the success of Christ, but greatly rejoiced in it, rec
ognizing in it the very object for which he had been
working all the time.
It was nobly said, and it was said from the heart ;
but how difficult it was to say we know from the
difficulty of saying it after him. " He that hath the
bride is the bridegroom " — the lucky man, the elect
of Providence, wins the prize of fortune or fame, genius
or beauty ; but how hard it is, when we discover that
the prize is not to be ours, to rejoice in his good for
tune ! Even in God's work it requires great grace to
be glad that others have obtained greater gifts and
better success ; but it is a plain duty, and in fulfilling
it John will be our teacher.
In this section of John's life we see two things
closely united — testimony to Christ and humility of
disposition. The conjunction is a natural and a hap
py one. He who is to bear witness to Christ must

HIS TESTIMONY TO CHRIST. 235
master his self-love. We cannot work for Christ's
honor and for our own at the same time. Those who
exhibit Christ to men must hide themselves behind
him. On the other band, nothing tends so much to
produce lowly estimates of self as to have a high esti-
timate of Christ. Let him fill the eye and the heart,
and we shall forget ourselves. What many of us
need to silence our vanity and boastfulness is to have
our mouth filled with the praise of the Son of God.

236 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.

CHAPTER V.
THE ECLIPSE OF HIS FAITH.
Matthew 11 : 2-6; Luke 7 : 19-23.
The circumstances attending the incarceration of
the Baptist will be more appropriately considered when
we come to the tragedy of his death. In the meantime
let it suffice to recall the fact that his work of reforma
tion was suddenly and prematurely stopped by his
being shut up in prison ; and that there he had prob
ably languished for months before we hear of him
again. Imprisonment was not, indeed, in the ancient
world exactly the same thing as it is among us. A
prisoner frequently enjoyed a great deal of freedom,
and he could generally be visited by his friends, as is
indicated in the parable which says, " I was in prison
and ye came unto me." Hence the Baptist received in
formation of what was taking place outside, and he was
able to send messages to whomsoever he desired. One
day he sent by two of his disciples to Jesus to ask, "Art
thou he that should come ? or look we for another ?"
Learned men have taken strange offence at this nar
rative, as if it contradicted other parts of the Gospel.
It is held to be totally irreconcilable with the testimony
said to have been borne to Christ by the Baptist ; be
cause one who had received such divine tokens as were
vouchsafed to John at the baptism of Jesus and had

THE ECLIPSE OF HIS FAITH. 237
pointed out the Messiah so distinctly could never after
wards have asked such a question as is here attributed
to him. But this is one of the instances in which learn
ing overshoots itself, and the plain man or the simple
Christian is wiser than his teachers. Those who are
taught by experience are well aware that the soul has
its fainting-fits, and that one whose faith at one time is
so great as to remove mountains may at another time
be weak and unbelieving. In the Gospel the Baptist is
frequently compared with the prophet Elijah ; and, if
ever there was a man who was a giant in faith, it was
Elijah ; yet Elijah had his hour of weakness too. He
who on Mount Carmel was able to stand up without
flinching in the face of the prophets of Baal and the
thousands of Israel was found on another occasion, in a
pessimistic mood, far from the confines of the Holy
Land, a fugitive from his work, and wishing only for
himself that he might die. Even our Lord himself had
his Gethsemane, when he prayed, " Father, if it be pos
sible, let this cup pass from me."
In the hope of averting from John the reproach of
being a doubter, some have supposed that it was not
for his own sake but for the sake of his disciples that he
sent the message. He never doubted, it is thought, but
his disciples did; they clung too tenaciously to their
own master and raised all kinds of objections to the
Messiahship of Jesus. In order to convince them John
sent them to Jesus himself, being confident that in his
immediate neighborhood they would see things which
would convince them and receive from the lips of
Christ an answer which would be irresistible. But the

238 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
reply of Jesus seems too directly addressed to John to
admit of such an explanation.
Others have seen in John's question an utterance
not- of scepticism but of impatience. Jesus was too
slow, John thought, and needed to be told what was
expected of him. Hence, he sent him a broad hint that,
if he was to make any impression on the popular mind,
he must change his method and act in a way more
characteristic of the Messiah. If this was John's
thought he was not the only one of the friends of
Jesus who took upon himself to administer such hints.
Others also were disappointed with his slowness and
attempted to hurry him. But Jesus always rejected
such advice with indignation, and to offer it implied the
most serious scepticism ; for, if Jesus really was the
Messiah, was he not far more capable than any adviser
of knowing the times and the seasons ?
It is not difficult to understand the causes which
led to the obscuration of the Baptist's faith. He was a
child of the desert, accustomed to free movement in the
open air, and in a prison he was like a caged eagle.
His reformatory work had been abruptly interrupted in
full tide ; and the impulses of enthusiasm and activity
were rolled back cold upon his heart. Besides, Jesus
was a Messiah very different from the one he had antici
pated ; John expected him to take to himself his great
power and reign. Might it not, for example, have
been taken for granted that the Messiah could not
allow his own forerunner to languish in prison ? If he
were king, the Herods as well as the Romans would
have to resign .their power, and the victims of their

THE ECLIPSE OF HIS FAITH. 239
jealousy and injustice would march out of confinement.
But month after month passed and Jesus made no sign ;
it looked as if he had forgotten his friend.
The Baptist's scepticism was real, but it was hon
est ; and we may learn from him how to manage our
own doubts.
Observe three things.
First, he put his doubts into words. Doubt is
most dangerous when it is vague; condense it into
definite questions and immediately the light begins to
break. Put it, for example, into John's questions: "Art
thou he that should come, or do we look for another?"
"He that should come" — how much faith is in that!
When once the heart is persuaded that there is some
one who should come — some one who must come
because he is indispensable, to loose the bands of sin
and to unite to God — it is not far from faith in Christ.
For, put the other question, " Look we for another ?"
if Jesus of Nazareth be not the Man of men, where are
we to look for him ?
Secondly, John sent directly to Christ. He did not
go on devouring his own heart in his cell ; nor did he
do what would have been worse, grumble to his disci
ples. Scepticism would be short-lived if we brought
our doubts at once to God. He was a wise man who,
in religious darkness, cried out, " Save me, O God, if
there be a God."
Thirdly, John never thought of withdrawing his
condemnation of the conduct of Herod and Herodias.
Some have spoken of his doubt as treachery ; but this
is quite an exaggeration. It would have been treachery

24O ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
if, believing himself deceived and neglected, he had
made this an excuse for renouncing his testimony and
so obtaining release from prison. Never is religious
doubt so dangerous as when it is made an excuse for
giving the reins to the flesh. He who, though per
plexed in faith, remains pure in deeds, will ultimately
fight his way through doubt and come safely out on the
other side.
Jesus did not go far for an answer to John's ques
tion. Apparently the Baptist's messengers came upon
him in one of those moments of holy excitement when
he was surrounded by a crowd of the diseased, whom
he was healing, and by a still larger multitude of the
common people, to whom he was preaching; and,
pointing to the double crowd, the Saviour said, "Go
your way and tell John what things ye have seen
and heard : how that the blind see, the lame walk, the
lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised,
to the poor the gospel is preached."
Apparently, in shaping this reply, he had in his
mind the words of Isaiah : " Then the eyes of the blind
shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be un
stopped : then shall the lame man leap as an hart and
the tongue of the dumb sing." Thus had the evangeli
cal prophet described the Messianic age ; and here,
Jesus hints, is the prophecy fulfilled to the letter.
This reply shows the importance attached by Jesus
to his own miracles. In our day there is a tendency to
slight the evidential value of miracles. It is frequently
said we believe in the miracles because we believe in
Christ, not" in Christ because of his miracles. The

THE ECLIPSE OF HIS FAITH. 24 1
warning was recently given by a person of eminence to
the students of a theological seminary that, if they
wished to win the present generation and attract culti
vated minds, they must emphasize the ethical elements
of Christianity, but keep the miraculous in the back
ground. Now, there is a way of stopping the mouth of
inquiry with miracle that is certain to repel thoughful
minds — as, for instance, when the Bible is first proved
to be inspired and then the demand is made that every
thing contained in it be accepted without any attempt
to comprehend it. If the Bible is from God then all it
contains must be reasonable; because God is the Su
preme Reason ; and, therefore, the human reason should
be invited to apply all its powers to the comprehension
of the statements of the Bible. In the miracles attrib
uted to the Saviour there is a divine reasonableness,
and, therefore, they ought never to be presented to faith
as mere wonders, but in their fine congruity with the
character and the work of Christ. But to suppress the
miraculous element in the gospel is not the way to win
the world or to form a powerful Christianity. The im
age of Christ which has cast a spell over the human
mind, and more and more is drawing all men to him, is
one into which miracle enters. Some, indeed, at pres
ent, even in the Christian camp, are trying to persuade
us that we may safely drop from our conception of
Christ both his supernatural birth and his bodily resur
rection. But this impaired and mutilated conception of
Christ has been often weighed in the balance of experi
ence and always found wanting. This is not " he that
should come." The world requires a divine Saviour ;
16

242 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
and that Jesus Christ is he is proved partly at least by
his miracles, and especially by the miracle of his resur
rection. It may be remarked in passing that one of the most
striking evidences in favor of the miracles of Jesus is
found in the statement of one of the Gospels that
"John did no miracle." Every theory of the mira
cles of Ghrist invented in the present century by un
belief amounts to this — that the age in which Christi
anity arose was a superstitious one, which almost
unconsciously wove round remarkable personages a
halo of miracle. Religious minds were especially in
fluenced by the desire to place the leading figures of
the Christian movement on a level with the foremost
personages of the Old Testament; and, as miracles
had been attributed to Moses and other prophets, so
the feeding of thousands with a few loaves and the
resurrection of dead persons appear as facts in the
Christian records. The whole1 theory, however, breaks
down in the case of the Baptist. If this myth-making
tendency was so natural it is difficult to see why it
should not have applied to him. Indeed, this would
have been inevitable, because the idea pervades the
Gospels that John was a new Elijah ; and the Elijah of
the Old Testament is a conspicuous miracle-worker.
Why did not Christian tradition invent for John a cycle
of wonders to bring him up to the level of his proto
type ? The very last reason for any statement in the
Gospels which it occurs to scholarship of a certain
type to think of is that the event recorded actually took
place. Yet the Gospel, which records the miracles of

THE ECLIPSE OF HIS FAITH. 243
Jesus, says with simple veracity of his forerunner, "John
did no miracle."
The proof which Jesus submitted of his own claims
was an appeal to what he was doing. And this will
always be the best evidence of Christianity — when it is
able to point to what it can do. Christianity does not,
indeed, now miraculously heal deafness, blindness,
leprosy, and the like ; but, as Jesus promised, it does
greater things than these. By the diffusion of the
spirit of philanthropy and by the use of scientific skill
in the service of charity it not only heals all manner of
diseases, but — what is far better — it is learning to pre
vent disease and to lengthen life on the large scale. It
is making men and women new creatures : it is making
the brutal wife-beater a tender husband, the drunkard a
sober man, the harlot pure, the thief honest. It is
transforming savage countries, which have been the
abodes of horrid cruelty, inte abodes of civilization, and
changing the dregs of society into good citizens and
members of churches. The scepticism of last century
is usually supposed to have received its quietus through
the publication of Paley's " Evidences " and Butler's
"Analogy ; " but it may be doubted if this be the correct
reading of history. I should attribute the restoration
of belief in at least an equal degree to the practical
labors of Wesley and Whitefield. The church which
saves most souls and does most to sweeten and purify
domestic and political life is the church which is doing
most to counterwork scepticism. The best evidence of
Christianity is a converted man.
Jesus himself, in reply to the Baptist, laid spe-

244 ST- JOHN THE BAPTIST.
cial emphasis on the fact that he preached the Gospel
to the poor, bringing in this after the mention of
his miracles, as if it were the climax of the whole
demonstration. And Christianity can never offer a
more . impressive evidence of divinity than when it
is able to say, " To the poor the Gospel is preached."
Over the entrance to the school of one of the greatest
philosophers of Greece the legend was inscribed:
" Let none ignorant of mathematics enter here."
This was proof enough that not in philosophy lies
the salvation of mankind, for the mass of our race
will always be ignorant of mathematics. But by
preaching to the poor Christianity shows that it is
adapted to all, approaching men at that level where
they are all alike and where are found their most
cardinal wants; and it proves at the same time that
it is animated with the spirit of Him who has made
of one blood all nations of men to dwell on the face
of all the earth, and who regards the humblest of his
creatures with a Father's love.
To his message to the Baptist our Lord added
what may be called a postscript ; and, as the post
script of a letter sometimes contains the most im
portant part of the whole communication, so Jesus
sent to John one of the weightiest words he ever
uttered, when he added, " And blessed is he whoso
ever shall not be offended in me."
It was a solemn warning, yet the wording of it was
managed with consummate skill. Jesus might have
said, " And cursed is he whosoever shall be offended

THE ECLIPSE OF HIS FAITH. 245
in me ;" but that way of putting it might have in
flamed a hot spirit like John's ; so Jesus, with his
perfect tact, put it the other way, yet in words fitted
to excite in John's mind a fear of that which he had
not expressed. John was in a dangerous state of mind. If he had
given way to his pessimistic mood he might have
stumbled over the stone which he had been sent to
lay in Zion as the chief corner-stone. His doubt
might have ripened into denial ; and he might have
come to the conclusion that Jesus was not the Messiah.
To prevent this, Jesus warned him not to give way to
feeling, but to think: to think, that he who had
already fulfilled so large a portion of the Messianic
programme, sketched by Isaiah, might be trusted to
fulfil the rest; to drink, that it was not for him to
prescribe the path of One whom he had acknowledged
to be far greater than himself, but to leave it to his
superior wisdom.
There was another danger to which John was
exposed. He was a leader of men; he had many
disciples, and his word carried weight with multi
tudes in every part of the country ; if he had gone
wrong, and declared against the claims of Christ, he
would have led others astray besides himself, and his
declaration could not but have been prejudicial to
Christ's cause.
The question is sometimes raised, whether men
are responsible for their opinions, and whether God
will punish men for their unbelief if they have honestly
been unable to believe in Christ. This is a much more

246 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
difficult question than many think. It is easy to take
for granted that doubt is honest. But in reality it
may not be so. It may be a vague mist of opinion, in
which the mind has allowed itself to become enveloped
because it has never had the courage to think its doubts
through. There may be vanity in it ; for skepticism
is sometimes worn as a feather in the cap. The claims
of Christ are so great and have so much prima facie
authority that no one in a right state of mind can reject
them without long labor and much pain. The respon
sibility of communicating doubt to others, that they
may be withdrawn from the faith of Christ, is greater
still ; and those who feel that their duty lies that way
may well beforehand ponder this word, " Blessed is he
whosoever shall not be offended in me."
To a vast multitude in Christian lands, however,
this word of Christ conveys a different message. They
may have no intellectual doubts about Christ, believing
him to be the Son of God and the Saviour of the
world ; but they are offended in him in another way.
They are offended by his cross ; they are afraid to con
fess him and to take the consequences. Their convic
tions about Christ are going one way and their conduct
the other. Far oftener Christ addressed himself to this
state of mind, and about it he expressed himself more
plainly : " Whosoever shall confess me before men,
him will I confess also before my Father which is in
heaven ; but whosoever shall deny me before men, him
will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven."

HIS EULOGY. 247

CHAPTER VI.
HIS EULOGY.
Matthew 11:7-19; Luke 7:24-35.
It was as the messengers of the Baptist departed
that "Jesus began to speak unto the multitudes con
cerning John." When people have departed, the lan
guage which breaks out behind their backs about
them and their friends is too frequently of a questiona
ble order. Gossip only waits till the door is shut be
hind a visitor before canvassing every defect in his
appearance and ripping up the seams of his character.
Those who have been all smiles and flattery to a per
son present will dissect with the most venomous relish
the same person absent. But how different was Jesus,
and what an example he has left in this as in other par
ticulars! While John's messengers were present he
was silent in his praise ; indeed, he spoke rather in a
tone of reproof. But no sooner were they out of ear
shot than he broke out in language of the warmest
eulogy, as if his admiration had been pent up, and
rushed forth as soon as it could find an outlet.
There are few things in biography more beautiful
than the relations to one another of John and Jesus.
John's, trial took place when the multitude forsook him
and went away to Jesus. Others envied for his sake ;
but not a thought of the kind could find its way into
his heart ; he only said, " He must increase, but I must

248 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
decrease." The trial of Jesus, on the other hand,
arrived when John sent his messengers to ask a depre
ciatory question. But He did not resent it. His lan
guage about John is full of generosity. There is in it
even a poetic intensity, which shows from what a warm
place in his heart it came.
Four things about John are embraced in Christ's
panegyric : his personal character, his prophetic great
ness, his success, and his failure.
The opening words — "What went ye out into the
wilderness to see? A reed shaken with the wind?
But what went ye out for to see ? A man clothed in
soft raiment ? Behold, they that wear soft clothing are
in kings' houses " — appear intended to protect John
from the unfavorable impressions which may have been
made by his own message. The question, " Art Thou
He that should come, or do we look for another?"
might have suggested in John a certain fickleness
when contrasted with the emphasis of his earlier testi
mony ; and it suggested an impatience which might be
attributed to dissatisfaction with the hardships which he
was enduring. Was John, then, a changeable mortal,
sighing for release and comfort ? From such a carica
ture Jesus lifted the minds of the listeners to the image
of the real John as he appeared in the days of his
prime. Was he, whom they went out into the wilder
ness to see, a reed shaken with the wind — one whom
the wind of popular favor could sway this way or that,
as it listed, or the stormy wind of persecution bend and
break? Was he not, on the contrary, an Elijah-like

HIS EULOGY. 249
figure — one fit to stand up against any odds and face
the frowns of a hostile world ? Was he a man clothed
in soft raiment — one who loved his ease and shrank
terrified from suffering ? They could not but remem
ber the emaciated figure and the coarse and scanty garb
of tlie man of the desert. He had, indeed, had an op
portunity of being a courtier, because Herod had cast
on him a favoring eye and listened to his preaching
with delight ; but it was well known what use he had
made of this opportunity — not in such a way as to be
included among those who are gorgeously apparelled
and live delicately in kings' courts, but in such a way
as to doom himself to a dungeon.
Such was John — the uncompromising witness, able
to stand like an iron pillar and a brazen wall against
whosoever ventured to oppose the truth, the self-deny
ing ascetic whom no threats could intimidate or suffer
ings tame — and Jesus loved to paint him in the glory
of his prime. God always sees the best of his servants
and places their character and their services in the most
favorable light : not his the petty spirit which criticises
everything that is high for the purpose of bringing it
low, or judges a man by his worst hour rather than by
his best. It has been said that every man of prophetic endow
ment has to pass through the stages of criticism against
which John was defended by Jesus. First, when he
begins to attract attention, he is said to be a reed sha
ken with the wind : he is waiting for the popular breeze
and will bend any way, as influence is brought to bear
upon him. By and by, when he has conquered popu-

2$0 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
larity, he is assailed with the second accusation — that
he is a man clothed in soft raiment ; he is making his
friends among the rich and powerful, and is intent on
feathering his own nest. Only after running the gaunt
let of such criticism does he at last wring from the
minds of ,his contemporaries the acknowledgment that
he is a prophet. Perhaps this is true, and it is a lesson
for the critics ; but there is a solemn lesson for the
man himself. Any one endowed with the prophetic
gift will be tempted at precisely these points. He will
be tempted first to use the gift of speech for the gratifi
cation of his own vanity, being puffed up or cast down
according as the multitude follow him and the organs of
public opinion praise him or not. Then, after his posi
tion is won and his fame established, he will be tempted
to use his gifts to shape for himself a comfortable place
in 'society. And only after he has surmounted both
forms of temptation will he approve himself a true
prophet of the Lord.
The Baptist, then, was no reed shaken with the
wind or softly clothed courtier, but a true prophet.
" Yea," the Lord added, " and more than a prophet ; for
this is he of whom it is written, Behold, I send my mes
senger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way be
fore thee. Verily I say unto you, among them that are
born of women there hath not risen a greater than John
the Baptist; notwithstanding, he that is least in the
kingdom of heaven is greater than he."
This is high and almost, one would think, excess
ive praise. Among those born of women, before the

HIS EULOGY. 251
birth of Christ, must we regard John the Baptist as the
very greatest man ? Was he ..greater than Moses,
Elijah, David, Isaiah ; or — to glance beyond the elect
people — greater than Homer and Plato, Sakya-muni
and Confucius? Probably this was not what Jesus
meant ; and the difference in his meaning points to a
profound difference between the human and the divine
way of estimating greatness. We measure greatness
by the size of the brain — by what we call brilliance,
talent, genius. This flatters human vanity ; and out of
it arise the extravagances of hero-worship and the
madnesses of ambition. But God's way of estimating
greatness is different : greatness is to be sought in faith
fulness to duty, in the humility with which the gifts of
God are received and utilized ; above all, in nearness
to God himself. John was greater than all who had
gone before him, not because the force of his manhood
surpassed that of Moses, or because his prophetic style
excelled that of Isaiah — for they did not — but because
he was nearer to the divine Light which was coming into
the world, and to him was vouchsafed the unique privi
lege of introducing it to mankind.
This explains the remarkable statement : " Not
withstanding, he that is least in the kingdom of heaven
is greater than he." The comparison is not in refer
ence to character or performance, but in reference to
position and privilege. In a somewhat similar way we
might say that a student of to-day is greater in me
chanics than Archimedes or in astronomy than Coper
nicus ; not in the sense that he has greater mechanical
or astronomical genius, but in the sense that his position

252 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
in time lifts him over the heads of those men of the
past. John is regarded as still belonging to the Old
Testament era, although so near the New Testament
era as to be able to touch it and, therefore, greater than
those more remote from it ; but those in the New Tes
tament era, even the least of them, are greater than he.
The New Testament era is here called " the king
dom of heaven ;" and this suggests a comparison. We
are accustomed to divide nature into three kingdoms —
the mineral, the vegetable and the animal. Now, it can
be said that what is least in the vegetable kingdom is
greater than that which is greatest in the mineral king
dom, and that what is least in the animal kingdom is
greater than that which is greatest in the vegetable
kingdom. So he that is least in the kingdom of God,
as Christ set it up in the world, is greater than he that
was greatest in the imperfect dispensation of the Old
Testament, just as he that was least there was greater
than the greatest in the. world which lay outside the
sphere of revelation.
Such is the tenor of the whole New Testament. It
will be remembered how St. Paul contrasts the minis
tration of condemnation, as he calls the Old Testament,
with the ministration of the Spirit, as he calls the New
Testament. The Old Testament was, indeed, glorious
in comparison with the surrounding world ; " but even
that which was made glorious had no glory in this re
spect by reason of the glory that excelleth. For if that
which is done away is glorious, much more that which
remaineth is glorious."
We may well inquire wherein this glory or great-

HIS EULOGY. 253
ness consists ; for, if we are Christians, it belongs to us.
Everyone who is in Christ is greater than was Abra
ham or Moses, Isaiah or John the Baptist. This is not,
indeed, a greatness of character, but of position and
privilege ; yet it is meant to react upon character. In
deed, this is the very spring of New Testament morality :
it is the worldly maxim, Noblesse oblige, raised to a
heavenly intensity. Ye are risen with Christ, therefore
rise with him to newness of life ; ye are seated with him
in the heavenly places, wherefore set your affections on
things above. This is the strain of the whole New
Testament : it is from the sense of being ideally lifted
up into a region of holiness and blessedness through
our connection with Christ that we are supplied with
the motive and the power for the real conflict with evil.
"Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a
holy nation, a peculiar people ; that ye should show
forth the praises of him who hath called you out of
darkness into his marvelous light."
From the Baptist's personal character and his
official greatness the Lord goes on to speak of the
success of his work: " From the days of John the Bap
tist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence
and the violent take it by force." These words are
difficult; but not a few misinterpretations, which need
not be mentioned, fall away when we observe that Jesus
is still being carried forward on the tide of eulogy, and
that these words, therefore, are words of praise, not of
blame. What John had done was to set the kingdom of

254 ST- JOHN THE BAPTIST.
heaven in the midst, where it attracted the thoughts,
the desires and the conversation of men. Through his
eyes his hearers saw the kingdom of heaven as a city
of which they must get possession, and, like resolute
besiegers, not to be baulked, they were r"eady to do and
to sacrifice everything in order to obtain this object of
desire: " the violent take it by force."
The words, "The kingdom of heaven suffereth
violence," would not mean anything more than is ex
pressed by the second clause, " The violent take it by
force." But perhaps a better translation would be,
"cometh in with violence;" and this would naturally
refer to the earnestness with which it was preached,
whereas the other clause refers to the earnestness of the
hearers. With this agrees the version of St. Luke :
"The kingdom ~ of heaven is preached, and every one
presseth into it." John had not only been an earnest
preacher himself, but he had raised up a race of preach
ers like-minded ; and these earnest preachers made
earnest hearers.
Whether in the words, " The violent take it by
force," any reference is made to the character of John's
converts is not certain. At any rate, his converts were
the violent rather than the respectable. To the respect
able Jesus said on a subsequent occasion, "John came
unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed
him not ; but the publicans and harlots believed him."
There was an element of violence in John's preaching ;
it was full of wrath and menace ; it was not the pure or
the full gospel. His hearers also were very imperfect ;
their previous lives had been violent and their appre-

HIS EULOGY. 255
hension of the kingdom of God was very defective ; yet
his was a genuine work, and it caused a genuine revi
val. Sometimes the preaching of the gospel may not
be very refined ; there may be too much terror in it,
and it may lack the sweetness and light of mature
Christianity. Yet, if it comes with power from the heart
of the preacher, it may do infinitely more good than a
perfect form of sound words preached without earnest
ness. Hearers awakened in open-air meetings or mis
sion halls to flee from the wrath to come may press
into the kingdom, while many who have heard the gos
pel for a lifetime in fashionable churches are dismissed
into outer darkness.
Up to this point Jesus has proceeded in the strain
of panegyric ; here, however, comes a " but " — " But
whereunto shall I liken this generation ? It is like unto
children sitting in the markets and calling unto their
fellows, We have piped unto you and ye have not
danced ; we have mourned unto you and ye have not
lamented." Now a " but" after a panegyric is suspicious. In
talking of others we sometimes say a certain amount of
good, then suddenly, with a "but," the conversation
takes a turn, and the good already spoken is undone
by the envious and malignant sequel. The transition
in the discourse of Jesus was not of this kind. He went
on, indeed, to speak of John's failure to influence his
generation as a whole ; but his aim was not to depreci
ate John, but to attack those who had rejected him.
And the final proof of the purity of his motive is that at

256 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
this point he associates himself with John : the failure
of the Baptist was also his own.
The language in which Jesus here speaks is very
striking. It is figurative ; and this is like him, for he
loved to use similitudes. The imagery is taken from
common life — the life of the street — and this also is
characteristic. It is most characteristic of all that he
borrows from the children's world ; for of that world in
all its phases he was lovingly observant.
Jesus had seen the children in the markets — as we
may see them in our own streets — playing at funerals
and marriages. One child would play the chief mourn
er, and the others would follow lamenting; one child
would play the pipe, or something which could be
feigned to be a pipe, and the rest would dance like the
guests at a wedding. But soon the children tired, or
something else attracted them, and the leader was left
lamenting or piping in vain.
And [there, said Jesus, are John and the Son of
man. John came neither eating nor drinking : he was
mournful, ascetic, funereal ; and for a time it looked as
if the whole country was to repent and mourn with
him. But this seriousness did not last ; the penitence
of the people had not gone deep, and their impressions
passed away. They threw the blame, however, on the
preacher. " He is a little wrong in the mind," they
said ; " he hath a devil." Then came the Son of man,
eating and drinking ; and for a time his flute-like note
of joy attracted more than had ever followed the
mournful lead of the Baptist. But neither were the
impressions permanent which He made ; the enthusi-

HIS EULOGY. 257
asm cooled down, life returned to its ordinary chan
nels, and they cast the blame on him. " A gluttonous
man," they exclaimed, "and a winebibber, a friend of
publicans and sinners."
These objections cancelled one another. Had it
really been because John was too mournful that they
left him they would have clung to Jesus, the joyful ;
had it really been because Jesus was too convivial that
they left him they would have been satisfied with John.
But their objections were merely excuses. The real
reason was that they feared both John's glittering axe,
"Repent," and the winnowing fan of Jesus, "If any
man will come after me, let him deny himself." There
are always excuses in plenty. One day it is too hot,
another too cold ; one church is too empty, another too
full ; one preacher is too learned, another not learned
enough; one congregation is too genteel, another too
common. But the real reason is still the old one — it is
dislike to religion itself. Sinners do not wish to give
up their sins, as John demanded ; they do not wish to
be brought nigh to God, as Jesus offered.
Such was our Lord's condemnation of his own
generation; but it does not contradict what he had
already said about John's success or deny entirely
success to his own ministry. Though they had both
failed with the generation as a whole, their mission was
not wholly a failure ; and this is what is expressed in
our Lord's closing words : " But Wisdom is justified of
her children." Those who slighted and rejected John
and Jesus practically condemned the divine Wisdom
which had sent these prophets ; but there were those
17

258 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
who condemned this condemnation and justified Wis
dom. These were Wisdom's own children. In the
preaching of John they recognized the accents of their
lost mother, and they recognized them still more in the
preaching of Jesus. But most of all did they discern
the presence of divine wisdom in the combination of
the two ; because John's preaching of repentance awa
kened in them the sense of spiritual need, and in
Christ's preaching the awakened soul obtained com
plete satisfaction.
In religion much depends on the preacher, and to
his work is attached a heavy responsibility. But more
depends on the hearer. Even when John and Jesus
were the preachers many hearers profited nothing.
The preaching of repentance can do no good when
sinners are determined not to give up their sins ; and
the unsearchable riches of the gospel are spread out in
vain before those who are not hungering and thirsting
after righteousness.

HIS MARTYRDOM. 259
CHAPTER VII.
HIS MARTYRDOM.
Matthew 14:1-12; Mark 6:14-29; Luke3:i9, 20; 9:7-9.
We do not know for certain in what way the
Baptist was got into the den of Herod. Den we may
call it, because Jesus himself called Herod " that fox."
Josephus says that the Baptist was imprisoned because
the tetrarch feared that the crowds attracted by his
preaching might be used for revolutionary purposes.
Most likely, however, this was only a pretext, and the
gospels admit us to the real reason.
Probably John first obtained access to the palace
in the way of his calling as a prophet. He was reach
ing all classes of the people, and he might well be
gratified if anything opened the way to the highest
circle of society ; for a great preacher has a word for
the highest as well as the lowest. Herod had a taste
for preaching and probably invited the popular prophet
to visit him. As the modern phrase would run, John
was commanded to preach before the Court. And
piquant must have been the contrast, as the son of the
desert, dressed in his ascetic garb, trode the marble
floors and appeared in the presence of those who were
clothed in purple and fine linen.
A palace offers a pulpit which a preacher might
envy. But it is a perilous place; it has chilled the
message on many a preacher's lips, if it has not con-

260 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
verted him into a flatterer and a sycophant. 'There
have been shameful periods, in our own English annals,
when the preachers of the Court have not only spared
the sins of the great but profited by them, even bish
ops fawning for promotion at the heels of royal mis
tresses. On the other hand, when Court preachers
have been true to their heavenly Master and dared to
speak the truth even to royal ears, they have not in
frequently had to risk not only position but life itself;
and the Baptist is not the only one, by any means, who
has thus lost his head.
Herod the Great — he who ordered the massacre
of the babes of Bethlehem — left his dominions to be
divided among four of his sons, each of whom was
accordingly called a tetrarch ; and Antipas — the Herod
of the Baptist's life — thus became ruler of Galilee and
Peraea. The father had been a man of the most un
bridled passions, as well as of ability and magnificence,
and his character was reproduced in this son; though
the scope was much curtailed, he being a mere crea
ture of the Roman masters of the country, by whose
favor he was maintained in his place. It was the prac
tice of petty rulers in his position to make frequent
visits to Rome, where they danced attendance on the
Court, waiting for any crumbs of imperial patronage
which might come their way ; and it was during one
such visit to the Eternal City that Herod formed an
intrigue with Herodias, the wife of one of his own
brothers. It may be mentioned, as an indication of
the disgusting state of morals which prevailed in the
Herodian family, that both the husband whom this

HIS MARTYRDOM. 26 1
princess was quitting and the paramour whom she was
following were her own uncles. Herod's intention was
to divorce his lawful wife, when he reached home, and to
marry Herodias; but, being informed beforehand of
what was impending, his wife fled, before the approach
of the guilty pair, to her father, Aretas, King of
Arabia. The relation of Herod and Herodias was, thus, of
the grossest kind ; and an honest preacher could not
obtain access to the royal ear without stigmatizing so
great a scandal. John did not go about the bush.
Herod expected to hear the silken accents of oratory ;
but what he heard was a voice like the sound of a
trumpet, saying without circumlocution, " It is not lawful
for thee to have her." This was a sound unspeakably
disconcerting, which it would never have done to allow
inside the palace, and so John was cast into prison ;
the reason which Josephus gives being perhaps assigned
as a pretext, because the real reason could not be
avowed. Although the tetrarch had shut John up in prison
he was not, it would appear, incensed against him ; for
St. Mark's statement, that he " heard him gladly," ap
pears to refer to the period of imprisonment. As the
prisoner St. Paul had the privilege of preaching to Felix
and Festus, Agrippa and Bernice, so, it would seem,
John, though a prisoner, appeared before the Court and
that again and again. Herod was a clever man ; but
his ability, being cramped in a position where he had
litde real power, ran to seed in a passion for novelty

262 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
and excitement. The Baptist was an original ; he was
a man of mind, whose ideas were fresh ; his appear
ance was striking and his delivery forcible; and the
tetrarch derived from intercourse with him a welcome
intellectual stimulation. Religion can be enjoyed in
this way ; it contains ideas, it is replete with mystery,
and it can be preached with eloquence. A man may
hear the word gladly, for the sake of the intellectual
pleasure it affords and the interest of the preacher's
personality, who has no thought of yielding to it his
heart and his will. The same state of mind in Herod
was exhibited at a later stage, when he was glad to see
Jesus because he expected him to work a miracle. But
by that time the star of his destiny was near its setting ;
and Jesus treated him with lofty disdain.
At this early stage, however, there was more in
Herod than the insatiable curiosity of a man of pleas
ure. He feared John, we are told, " knowing that he
was a just man and a holy." There was still a con
science in him. By one nod to a myrmidon to cut him
down, when he uttered his uncourtly charge, he might
have silenced the prophet ; but he let him speak on ;
perhaps he even liked his faithfulness. Ungodly people
sometimes admire a minister the more because he is
not afraid of their faces and does not spare their sins.
They know it is his duty ; and they would despise him
if he neglected it through fear of them. Policy is not
likely to make a minister faithful, yet it is true that
faithfulness is the best policy. And when faithfulness
is backed up by character it commands the homage of
all who are not utterly corrupt. As Herod listened he

HIS MARTYRDOM. 263
felt how awful goodness is, and his conscience consented
to the law that it was good.
But conscience requires to be not only heard but
obeyed; and this was where Herod lost himself, as
multitudes do. He went further, indeed, than some.
One version, apparently the better authenticated, says
that he was much perplexed ; another says, more sig
nificantly, that he did many things. Perhaps he prayed ;
perhaps he wept ; perhaps he gave up this sin and that ;
perhaps he did this and that act of clemency or gener
osity. But one thing he would not do, and it was the
one thing needful. All the time he was walking round
this great thing in the centre of his life and the many
things were only meant to make up for its omission.
This is not an unusual position. There is one thing
which people know must be done ; they will multiply
other things, they can do all other things, but this they
will not and they cannot do. They hear God's thunder
rolling overhead ; they weep and pray ; but still the
one thing needful remains undone.
Meantime the conscience sadly suffers. Conscience
ought to be obeyed instantly, and it is only by prompt
obedience that its tone is maintained. But, if the con
demning voice of the law is heard continually and as
sented to, but not obeyed, conscience becomes a mere
pulp, in which nothing can take hold ; the character is
demoralized; and the indulgence of religious feeling
and the multiplication of religious acts only make it
worse. We can trace the history of the degeneration
of Herod's conscience. When, some time after the
Baptist's murder, the fame of Jesus reached his ears, he

264 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
was still capable of an access of bewildering terror. " It
is John the Baptist," he exclaimed, " risen from the
dead." But, later, when the Baptist's Friend was sent
to him for trial by Pilate, he had lost all dread and all
shame ; he behaved at first with the most cynical friv-
olty, and when the silence of Jesus dislodged him from
this attitude he only made the transition to insane ar
rogance and mockery. His conscience had become
seared. And this is the natural history of this faculty.
Loyally followed, it is the surest guide to the heights of
nobility and serenity, but tampered with, or neglected,
it becomes the brand of moral degradation, while at the
same time it hides within itself the secret of retributive
torment. The Baptist had no cause to apprehend immediate
danger from Herod; but behind the tetrarch there
stood another figure, whose attitude was ominous.
This was Herodias. What Jezebel was to Elijah in
the Old Testament Herodias was to the Elijah of
the New Testament. She was worse. Elijah escaped
from the deadly hate of Jezebel and, as he had pro
phesied, her bones were devoured by the dogs of
Jezreel; but John did not escape the vengeance of
his enemy. It has often been said that women are like the
figs of Jeremiah : when good, they are very good, but,
when bad, they are very bad.
" For men at most differ as heaven and earth,
But women, worst and best, as heaven and hell."
No symptom of the evil age in which the Messiah

HIS MARTYRDOM. 265
came to this world was more noteworthy than the char
acter of its women. The Agrippinas and Messalinas of
Roman history, with their colossal passions, were the
worst index of the ancient world's decay. And no
where did this corruption assume worse forms than in
Oriental courts, under Roman influence. In Cleopatra,
the paramour of Antony, Shakespeare has depicted the
type in all its features of mingled attractiveness and
abandonment. Herodias was a woman of this character. She had
very good reasons for hating John ; because, if Herod
put her away, as John advised, where was she to go?
For her the enjoyment and glory of life were over for
ever. A woman's hatred is different from a man's. It
sees its purpose straight before it, and no scruple is
allowed to stand in its way. Herod, bad man as he
was, feared John and reverenced him. Not so Herodi
as ; for her there was no halo round the prophet's head.
Either he must die or she be banished from the sun
shine, a disgraced and ruined woman ; and she did not
hesitate a moment between the alternatives.
Josephus says that the Baptist was imprisoned in
Machserus. This was a castle or palace in the neigh
borhood of the Dead Sea, that is, far in the south of
the country ; but Herod's regular abode was Tiberias,
on the Sea of Galilee. It is just possible that Herod
sent John to distant Machserus to be out of harm's way ;
for St. Mark says that " Herodias had a quarrel against
him, and would have killed him, but Herod .... pre
served him " ; not " observed," as the common version
says ; the revised version renders, " kept him safe."

266 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
Even a prison may be a welcome protection from the
wrath of an angry woman.
But Herodias' implacable hatred never slept, and
at last her opportunity came. Herod was fond of all
occasions which afforded an excuse for excitement ; and
he had borrowed from his Western masters the practice
of celebrating his own birthday with elaborate festivities.
Machaerus was the palace chosen on this occasion, and
there he assembled " the lords, high captains, and chief
estates of Galilee." Herodias, too, was there. Herod,
perhaps, had forgotten all about John, but she was
thinking of nothing else.
The bait of which she made use was her own
daughter. Few things in this world are more touching
and beautiful than the training of a daughter by a good
mother, whose cares and prayers fashion the virgin
heart of her child into a sanctuary of all that is pure,
modest and holy. But a wicked mother, transfusing
into her daughter's heart the hellish passion and ma
lignity of her own nature, is an awful spectacle.
Dancing is one of those things, innocent in them
selves, which often serve the tempter as an inclined
plane down which it is easy to get human beings to
descend. Historically it has been associated with some
scenes of the worst degradation of man and woman.
In the corrupt age to which Herod belonged it was
much sought after by men like him, and nowhere was
it more relished than in Oriental courts. Both men
and women practised it in public for a livelihood ; and
those who distinguished themselves were frequently re
warded by extravagant presents. Many of the dances

HIS MARTYRDOM. 267
were lewd in the extreme and appealed to the worst
passions of human nature.
No doubt the favorable moment was watched for
by Herodias, when the tetrarch and his boon compan
ions had reached the stage at which evil passions can
be most easily blown into flame. Then the girl was
introduced, in her youth and beauty, and executed
with bewildering grace the part for which she had been
trained. The sight of one so nearly related to himself
appearing in the position of a dancing-girl or play-ac
tress ought to have filled Herod with shame and indig
nation ; but the daredevil sauciness and the abandon
ment of a princess completely carried away the half-
intoxicated men, who looked on spellbound and broke
out into wild applause ; and the tetrarch, entirely losing
control of himself, roared out a promise to give her any
present she might ask, even to the half of his kingdom.
One Evangelist says that the girl was instructed
beforehand what to ask, while another says that she
went to consult her mother. No wonder, however,
that, even if she had been instructed beforehand, she
went to ask when she received such an offer. Half of
a kingdom ! What might she not have obtained —
palaces, jewels, gorgeous apparel — all that a girl's heart
could desire! But that stony face, congealed with
hatred and fear, met her hesitation unmoved. " Little
fool, you know not what you ask : what would all these
things be to you and me, unqueened and outcast, as
we may be any day if John the Baptist lives ?"
So she came back into the hall and said, " Give
me here immediately the head of John the Baptist in a

268 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
charger." She was still playing the saucy devil-may-
care ; and it is easy to imagine the roar of laughter and
admiration with which the pretty wickedness of this
request would be greeted by the tipsy revellers.
But Herod did not laugh. He grew pale and
trembled ; he knew that he had been entrapped. For
a moment the fate of John and that of Herodias hung
in the balance. Would the manhood and the kinghood
in Herod prevail ? Would he say, " No ; I have been
betrayed ; no hand shall touch a hair of the head of the
man whom I am protecting " ? Alas, it was the oppo
site half of Herod's self which came forth — the weak,
cowardly side. He was swept away by the drunken
shouts of his courtiers ; he affected to believe that he
felt scrupulous about his oath. Perhaps the strongest
motive of all was dread of the blood-thirsty Fury by
whom the whole scene had been contrived.
Like mother, like daughter. Salome had played
her part well. But what a burden was that for the girl
to receive and carry away in the charger ! Doubtless
she kept up her gay and frivolous mood as long as the
eyes of others were upon her ; but surely her heart
quailed when she was out of the lighted hall and alone
with the ghastly object. The eyes of that other face,
however, did not quail, but flashed with the fire of
hell, as they devoured the hated features. When the
head of Cicero was brought to Fulvia, the widow of
Clodius and the wife of Antony, she drove her hair-pin
again and again into the tongue which had denounced
the iniquities of both her husbands ; and Herodias was
capable of doing as much at least.

HIS MARTYRDOM. 269
She remained Herod's evil genius to the end. The
death of the Baptist filled the tetrarch's subjects with
horror ; and King Aretas led an army into the country
to avenge the dishonor done to his daughter, inflicting
on Herod a severe defeat which the people attributed
to the wrath of heaven. Herod appealed to the Ro
mans for help ; but in the nick of time the emperor died
on whose favor he depended. Urged on by the ambi
tion of Herodias he went to Rome, to pay homage to
the new emperor and to beg for himself the title of
king. But the new emperor, being prejudiced against
him, not only refused his request but deprived him of
his government altogether. Herod was banished to
Lyons, in the south of France, where he and Herodias
died miserably.
Nothing is told of the tragedy inside the prison.
When the apparition of death confronted John so
suddenly, how did he receive it ? He was still young,
little more than thirty ; the pulses of life were strong
in him ; he had been arrested in the midst of a great
work, and much, he must have felt, as every true
worker for God and man feels, was yet to be done.
Had he still a great doubt, which he was yearning to
have solved before leaving the world ?
There are few scenes more pathetic than the little
company of his disciples gathering at the prison door
to take up the poor, mutilated and dishonored trunk.
Where did they bury it ? It must surely have been
in the sand of the desert — fit resting-place for one
who had so loved solitude and to whom society had

270 ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
proved so unkind. Into his grave they dropped many
a tear of affection ; and many a golden hope and
glorious dream they buried with their master. Were
they thinking that surely Jesus, if he were the Christ,
might have prevented this? Were they thinking
of the enigma, that it should be possible for a man
like Herod to put out of the world a man so good
and so beneficent as John ?
As they turned round from the grave, the heavens
looked very blank and the earth very vacant. But
a true instinct told them where to go — " They went
and told Jesus." Ah, blessed road, whereon thousands
upon thousands have followed them since ! It is the
right road, whatever be the trouble; but most of all
when the waves and billows of doubt are breaking
over the mind — when it looks as if Providence had let
go the rudder, and as if there were no love at the
heart of the universe. When the Son of God appears
to have abandoned his own cause, and even to have
given occasion to doubt his very existence, then carry
the trouble to no one else, but go and tell Jesus.
" God is his own interpreter
And he will make it plain."
Long since has he made plain the martyrdom of
the Baptist ; for John has accomplished far more by
dying than he could ever have done by living. He
lives on in the world with an influence ever extending ;
it is even he who keeps alive the memory of Herod,
Herodias and Salome, who murdered him. Whenever
truth has to be defended or difficult testimony has to
be borne, there his image sheds a welcome inspiration ;

HIS MARTYRDOM. 27 1
and because he gave up his life rather than compro
mise with sin, therefore his voice, crying, "Repent!"
still echoes in the hearts of men, and his finger is
visible across the centuries, outstretched towards " the
Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the
world."

YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

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