Brief was the duration of the friendship of the forerunner and the Messiah; but there are evidences that it was strong, deep, and true.
There were several occasions on which this friendship proved its sincerity and its loyalty.
Reports of the preaching of John, and of the throngs who were flocking to him, reached Jerusalem; and a deputation was sent by the Sanhedrin to the desert to ask him who he was. They had begun to think that this man who was attracting such attention might be the Messiah for whom they were looking. But John was careful to say that he was not the Christ. "Art thou Elias? ... Art thou that prophet?" He answered "No."--"Who art thou, then?" they asked, "that we may give an answer to them that sent us. What sayest thou of thyself?"
This gave John an opportunity to claim the highest honor for himself if he had been disposed to do so. He might have admitted that he was the Messiah, or quietly permitted the impression to be cherished; and in the state of feeling and expectation then prevailing among the people, there would have been a great uprising to carry him to a throne. But his loyalty to truth and to the Messiah whose forerunner he was, was so strong that he firmly resisted the opportunity, with whatever of temptation it may have had for him. "I am a voice," he answered--nothing but a voice. Thus he showed an element of greatness in his lowly estimate of himself.
True, a voice may do great things. It may speak words which shall ring through the world with a blessing in every reverberation. It may arouse men to action, may comfort sorrow, cheer discouragement, start hope in despairing hearts. If one is only a voice, and if there be truth and love and life in the voice, its ministry may be rich in its influence.
Much of the Bible is but a voice coming out of the depths of the past.
No one knows the names of all the holy men who, moved by the Spirit, wrote the wonderful words. Many of the sweetest of the Psalms are anonymous. Yet no one prizes the words less, nor is their power to comfort, cheer, inspire, or quicken any less, because they are only voices. After all, it is a great thing to be a voice to which men and women will listen, and whose words do good wherever they go.
Yet John"s speaking thus of himself shows his humility. He sought no earthly praise or recognition. He was not eager to have his name sounding on people"s lips. He knew well how empty such honor was. He wished only that he might be a voice, speaking out the word he had been sent into the world to speak. He knew that he had a message to deliver, and he was intent on delivering it. It mattered not who or what he was, but it did matter whether his "word or two" were spoken faithfully or not.
Every one of us has a message from G.o.d to men. We are in this world for a purpose, with a mission, with something definite to do for G.o.d and man. It makes very little difference whether people hear about us or not, whether we are praised, loved, and honored, or despised, hated, and rejected, so that we get our word spoken into the air, and set going in men"s hearts and lives. John was a worthy voice, and his tones rang out with clarion clearness for truth and for G.o.d"s kingdom.
It was his mission to go in advance of the King, and tell men that he was coming, calling them to prepare the way before him. This he did; and when the King came, John"s work was done.
The deputation asked him also why he was baptizing if he was neither the Christ nor Elijah. Again John honored his friend by saying, "I baptize with water: but there standeth one among you, whom ye know not; he it is, who coming after me is preferred be fore me, whose shoe"s latchet I am not worthy to unloose." John set the pattern for friendship for Christ for all time. It is,--
"None of self, and all of thee."
It is pitiable to see how some among the Master"s followers fail to learn this lesson. They contend for high places, where they may have prominence among men, where their names shall have honor. The only truly great in Christ"s sight are those who forget self that they may honor their Lord. John said he was not worthy to unloose the shoe-latchet of his friend, so great, so kingly, so worthy was that friend. He said his own work was only external, while the One standing unrecognized among the people had power to reach their hearts. It were well if every follower of Christ understood so perfectly the place of his own work with relation to Christ"s.
Another of John"s testimonies to Jesus was made a little later, perhaps as Jesus returned after his temptation. Pointing to a young man who was approaching, he said, "Behold the Lamb of G.o.d, which taketh away the sin of the world." It was a high honor which in these words John gave to his friend. That friend was the bearer of the world"s sin and of its sorrow. It is not likely that at this early stage John knew of the cross on which Jesus should die for the world. In some way, however, he saw a vision of Jesus saving his people from their sin, and so proclaimed him to the circle that stood round him. He proclaimed him also as the Son of G.o.d, thus adding yet another honor to his friend.
A day or two later John again pointed Jesus out to two of his own disciples as the Lamb of G.o.d, and then bade them leave him and go after the Messiah. This is another mark of John"s n.o.ble friendship for Jesus,--he gave up his own disciples that they might go after the new Master. It is not easy to do this. It takes a brave man to send his friends away, that they may give their love and service to another master.
There is further ill.u.s.tration of John"s loyal friendship for Jesus. It seems that John"s disciples were somewhat jealous of the growing fame and influence of Jesus. The throngs that followed their master were now turning after the new teacher. In their great love for John, and remembering how he had witnessed for Jesus, and called attention to him, before he began his ministry and after, they felt that it was scarcely right that Jesus should rise to prosperity at the expense of him who had so helped him rise. If John had been less n.o.ble than he was, and his friendship for Jesus less loyal, such words from his followers would have embittered him. There are people who do irreparable hurt by such flattering sympathy. A spark of envy is often fanned into a disastrous flame by friends who come with such appeals to the evil that is in every man.
But John"s answer shows a soul of wondrous n.o.bleness. He had not been hurt by popularity, as so many men are. Not all good people pa.s.s through times of great success, with its attendant elation and adulation, and come out simple-hearted and lowly. Then even a severer test of character is the time of waning favor, when the crowds melt away, and when another is receiving the applause. Many a man, in such an experience, fails to retain sweetness of spirit, and becomes soured and embittered.
John stood both tests. Popularity did not make him vain. The losing of his fame did not embitter him. He kept humble and sweet through it all. The secret was his unwavering loyalty to his own mission as the harbinger of the Messiah. "A man can receive nothing, except it be given him from heaven," he said. The power over men which he had wielded for a time had been given to him. Now the power had been withdrawn, and given to Jesus. It was all right, and he should not complain of what Heaven had done.
Then John reminded his friends that he had distinctly said that he was not the Christ, but was only one sent before him. In a wondrously expressive way he explained his relation to Jesus. Jesus was the bridegroom, and John was only the bridegroom"s friend, and he rejoiced in the bridegroom"s honor. It was meet that the bridegroom should have the honor, and that his friend should retire into the background, and there be forgotten. Thus John showed his loyalty to Jesus by rejoicing in his popular favor, when the effect was to leave John himself deserted and alone after a season of great fame. "He must increase, but I must decrease," said the n.o.ble-hearted forerunner. John"s work was done, and the work of Jesus was now beginning. John understood this, and with devoted loyalty, unsurpa.s.sed in all the bright story of friendship, he rejoiced in the success that Jesus was winning, though it was at his own cost.
This is a model of n.o.ble friendship for all time. Envy poisons much human friendship. It is not easy to work loyally for the honor and advancement of another when he is taking our place, and drawing our crowds after him. But in any circ.u.mstances envy is despicable and most undivine. Then even in our friendship for Christ we need to be ever most watchful lest we allow self to creep in. We must learn to care only for his honor and the advancement of his kingdom, and never to think of ourselves.
So much for the friendship of John for Jesus. On several occasions we find evidences of very warm friendship in Jesus for John. John"s imprisonment was a most pathetic episode in his life. It came from his fidelity as a preacher of righteousness. In view of all the circ.u.mstances, we can scarcely wonder that in his dreary prison he began almost to doubt, certainly to question, whether Jesus were indeed the Messiah. But it must be noted that even in this painful experience John was loyal to Jesus. When the question arose in his mind, he sent directly to Jesus to have it answered. If only all in whose minds spiritual doubts or questions arise would do this, good, and not evil, would result in every case; for Christ always knows how to rea.s.sure perplexed faith.
It was after the visit of the messengers from John that Jesus spoke the strong words which showed his warm friendship for his forerunner. John had not forfeited his place in the Master"s heart by his temporary doubting. Jesus knew that his disciples might think disparagingly of John because he had sent the messengers with the question; and as soon as they were gone he began to speak about John, and to speak about him in terms of highest praise. It is an evidence of true friendship that one speaks well of one"s friend behind his back. Some professed friendship will not stand this test. But Jesus spoke not a word of censure concerning John after the failure of his faith. On the other hand, he eulogized him in a most remarkable way. He spoke of his stability and firmness; John was not a reed shaken with the wind, he was not a self-indulgent man, courting ease and loving luxury; he was a man ready for any self-denial and hardship. Jesus added to this eulogy of John"s qualities as a man, the statement that no greater soul than his had ever been born in this world. This was high praise indeed. It ill.u.s.trates the loyalty of Jesus to the friend who had so honored him and was suffering now because of faithfulness to truth and duty.
There is another incident which shows how much Jesus loved John. It was after the foul murder of the Baptist. The record is very brief.
The friends of the dead prophet gathered in the prison, and, taking up the headless body of their master, they carried it away to a reverent, tearful burial. Then they went and told Jesus. The narrative says, "When Jesus heard of it, he departed thence by ship into a desert place apart." His sorrow at the tragic death of his faithful friend made him wish to be alone. When the Jews saw Jesus weeping beside the grave of Lazarus they said, "Behold how he loved him!" No mention is made of tears when Jesus heard of the death of John; but he immediately sought to break away from the crowds, to be alone, and there is little doubt that when he was alone he wept. He loved John, and grieved over his death.
The story of the friendship of Jesus and John is very beautiful.
John"s loyalty and faithfulness must have brought real comfort to Jesus. Then to John the friendship of Jesus must have been full of cheer.
As we read the story of the Baptist"s life, with its tragic ending, we are apt to feel that he died too soon. He began his public work with every promise of success. For a few months he preached with great power, and thousands flocked to hear him. Then came the waning of his popularity, and soon he was shut up in a prison, and in a little while was cruelly murdered to humor the whim of a wicked and vengeful woman.
Was it worth while to be born, and to go through years of severe training, only for such a fragment of living? To this question we can answer only that John had finished his work. He came into the world--a man sent from G.o.d--to do just one definite thing,--to prepare the way for the Messiah. When the Messiah had come, John"s work was done. As the friend of Christ he went home; and elsewhere now, in other realms perhaps, he is still serving his Lord.
CHAPTER IV.
JESUS" CONDITIONS OF FRIENDSHIP.
But if himself he come to thee, and stand * * *
And reach to thee himself the Holy Cup, * * *
Pallid and royal, saying, "Drink with me,"
Wilt thou refuse? Nay, not for paradise!
The pale brow will compel thee, the pure hands Will minister unto thee; thou shalt take Of that communion through the solemn depths Of the dark waters of thine agony, With heart that praises him, that yearns to him The closer through that hour.
_Ugo Ba.s.si"s Sermon._
Every thoughtful reader of the Gospels notes two seemingly opposing characteristics of Christ"s invitations,--their wideness and their narrowness. They were broad enough to include all men; yet by their conditions they were so narrowed down that only a few seemed able to accept them.
The gospel was for the world. It was as broad as the love of G.o.d, and that is absolutely without limit. G.o.d loved the world. When Jesus went forth among men his heart was open to all. He was the patron of no particular cla.s.s. For him there were no outcasts whom he might not touch, with whom he might not speak in public, or privately, or who were excluded from the privileges of friendship with him. He spoke of himself as the Son of man--not the son of a man, but the Son of man, and therefore the brother of every man. Whoever bore the image of humanity had a place in his heart. Wherever he found a human need it had an instant claim on his sympathy, and he was eager to impart a blessing. No man had fallen so low in sin that Jesus pa.s.sed him by without love and compa.s.sion. To be a man was the pa.s.sport to his heart.
The invitations which Jesus gave all bear the stamp of this exceeding broadness. "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." "Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." "If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink." Such words as these were ever falling from his lips. No man or woman, hearing these invitations, could ever say, "There is nothing there for me." There was no hint of possible exclusion for any one. Not a word was ever said about any particular cla.s.s of persons who might come,--the righteous, the respectable, the cultured, the unsoiled, the well-born, the well-to-do. Jesus had no such words in his vocabulary.
Whoever labored and was heavy laden was invited. Whoever would come should be received--would not in any wise be cast out. Whoever was athirst was bidden to come and drink.
Some teachers are not so good as their teachings. They proclaim the love of G.o.d for every man, and then make distinctions in their treatment of men. Professing love for all, they gather their skirts close about them when fallen ones pa.s.s by. But Jesus lived out all of the love of G.o.d that he taught. It was literally true in his case, that not one who came to him was ever cast out. He disregarded the proprieties of righteousness which the religious teachers of his own people had formulated and fixed. They read in the synagogue services, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," but they limited the word neighbor until it included only the circle of the socially and spiritually _elite_. Jesus taught that a man"s neighbor is a fellow-man in need, whoever he may be. Then, when the lost and the outcast came to him they found the love of G.o.d indeed incarnate in him.
At one time we read that all the publicans and sinners drew near unto him to hear him. The religious teachers of the Jews found sore fault with him, saying, "This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them."
But he vindicated his course by telling them that he had come for the very purpose of seeking the lost ones. On another occasion he said that he was a physician, and that the physician"s mission was not to the whole, but to the sick. He had come not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance. A poor woman who was a sinner, having heard his gracious invitation, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden," came to his feet, at once putting his preaching to the test.
She came weeping, and, falling at his feet, wet them with her tears, and then wiped them with her dishevelled hair and kissed them. Then she took an alabaster box, and breaking it, poured the ointment on his feet. It was a violation of all the proprieties to permit such a woman to stay at his feet, making such demonstrations. If he had been a Jewish rabbi, he would have thrust her away with execrations, as bringing pollution in her touch. But Jesus let the woman stay and finish her act of penitence and love, and then spoke words which a.s.sured her of forgiveness and peace.
"She sat and wept, and with her untressed hair Still wiped the feet she was so blest to touch; And he wiped off the soiling of despair From her sweet soul, because she loved so much."
This is but one of the many proofs in Jesus" life of the sincerity of the wide invitations he gave. Continually the lost and fallen came to him, for there was something in him that made it easy for them to come and tell him all the burden of their sin and their yearning for a better life. Even one whom he afterward chose as an apostle was a publican when Jesus called him to be his disciple. He took him in among his friends, into his own inner household; and now his name is on one of the foundations of the heavenly city, as an apostle of the Lamb.
Thus we see how broad was the love of Christ, both in word and in act.
Toward every human life his heart yearned. He had a blessing to bestow upon every soul. Whosoever would might be a friend of Jesus, and come in among those who stood closest to him. Not one was shut out.
Then, there is another cla.s.s of words which appear to limit these wide invitations and this gracious love. Again and again Jesus seems to discourage discipleship. When men would come, he bids them consider and count the cost before they decide. One pa.s.sage tells of three aspirants for discipleship, for all of whom he seems to have made it hard to follow him.
One man came to him, and with glib and easy profession said, "I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest." This seemed all that could have been asked. No man could do more. Yet Jesus discouraged this ardent scribe. He saw that he did not know what he was saying, that he had not counted the cost, and that his devotion would fail in the face of the hardship and self-denial which discipleship would involve. So he answered, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." That is, he painted a picture of his own poverty and homelessness, as if to say, "That is what it will mean for you to follow me; are you ready for it?"
Then Jesus turned to another, and said to him, "Follow me." But this man asked time. "Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father."
This seemed a reasonable request. Filial duties stand high in all inspired teaching. Yet Jesus said, "No; leave the dead to bury their own dead; but go thou and publish abroad the kingdom of G.o.d."
Discipleship seems severe in its demands if even a sacred duty of love to a father must be foregone that the man might go instantly to his work as a missionary.
There was a third case. Another man, overhearing what had been said, proposed also to become a disciple--but not yet. "I will follow thee; but first suffer me to bid farewell to them that are at my house."
That, too, appeared only a fit thing to do; but again the answer seems stern and severe. "No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of G.o.d." Even the privilege of running home to say "Good-by" must be denied to him who follows Jesus.