HOME | Contents | PART IIa | PART IIb: 125.The Transfiguration | 126.Elias has come in the person of John the Baptist | 127.The cure of an epileptic boy possessed by the devil | 128.The second prediction of the Passion and Resurrection | 129.He that is greatest must become the least of all | 130.Forbearance is to be shown towards those who use the name of Jesus | 131-2.Charity towards the disciples of Jesus. The danger of scandal | 133.Salt | 134a.Fraternal unity and the power of absolution | 134b.The pardoned debtor who becomes a pitiless creditor | 135.Jesus pays the Temple dues though there is no obligation on His part | 136.Jesus leaves the cities of the lake-side | PART III.
Luke ix.28-36; Mark ix.2-8; Matt. xvii.1-8.
About eight days [Luke ix.28.] -
six full days according to Mark and Matthew [Mark ix.2;
Matthew xvii.1.] -
after Peter's
confession there occurred an extraordinary scene,
to which there is no parallel
in the life of Jesus except the scene of His prayer in the garden of Gethsemani.
These two scenes stand in opposition to one another,
like strophe and antistrophe.
In both cases Jesus takes Peter, James, and John apart in order to pray along
with them;
in both the disciples are heavy with sleep;
in both Jesus receives
a visit from on high.
But the Transfiguration serves as a sure pledge of Christ's
future glory,
while Gethsemani shows Him to us in the lowest depths of human
abasement.
Several of the Fathers were of opinion that the same witnesses were
chosen for the former as for the latter scene so that the memory of the glory
of the Transfiguration might serve as a safeguard against the scandal of the
agony in the garden.
Peter was chosen because he was the appointed head of
the Apostles;
John was the beloved disciple;
and his brother James, who refused
to leave him, was to be the first of the Apostles to shed his blood for the
gospel.
This is the only occasion on which the Synoptists have been precise in giving
us the exact interval of time between two events, and we may clearly gather
from this that it was because they saw some connection between them.
And indeed
the Transfiguration is the confirmation of what Jesus intended to teach when
He led Peter to make that confession which He accepted, rectifying it on the
all-important point of the Messiah's sufferings -
a thing that the Apostles
found so difficult to accept -
while He maintained their faith in His future
glory.
But in this new scene there is so much light that we are as it were
dazzled by it.
Jesus had said to the Jews:
'If you had believed Moses
you would believe Me,
for he wrote of Me.'
[ John v.46.]
Here
Moses comes
from heaven to bear witness to Him.
The Jews knew that Elias would announce
the coming of the Messiah, and the Baptist had appeared representing Elias.
And now Elias associates himself in person with Moses in paying homage to
Jesus with whom they both talk.
In this scene all that was most divine in
Israel's past does homage to the new prophet and upholds what He has foretold
about the scandal of His death.
At the same time the glory that Jesus has
said is to be His in His Resurrection is already manifested in Him as belonging
to Him in His own right.
But recently He had accepted the title of Son of
God, and now this name is given to Him by a voice that can only be the voice
of the Father.
If we consider in one view the whole history of religion,
observing the dependence
of the new covenant on the ancient revelation
from which the new covenant breaks
away in order that it may gather unto itself all the nations,
noting the continuity
of God's plan which leads up to Jesus
whom all acknowledge to be greater than
all the great men of the past,
witnessing the manner in which He is to-day
worshipped along with His Father,
we cannot help being amazed at the way in
which the whole of that miraculous history is sketched with a few strokes of
the pen in this story of the Transfiguration.
Mere human genius could have
written nothing comparable to that, for it knows nothing of the future.
Moreover,
the incident is related with a simplicity and a realism that make it impossible
to suppose that the evangelists intend it to be understood merely as a symbol,
or that they themselves have invented the story as a symbol.
It is true that
the mountain is not named;
but that alone indicates that the incident has
not grown out of some divine apparition foretold by the Old Testament, amplified
by the evangelists in such a way as to give their story the appearance of historical
reality.
Had that been the case they would certainly have called the mountain
Hermon or Thabor
so as to harmonize the story with the Psalm:
'Thabor and Hermon shall rejoice thy name.'
[Psalm Ixxxviii (Hebrews Ixxxix).13.]
It may have been for this reason that tradition
has chosen Thabor as the mount of the Transfiguration.
Thabor is not so high
as Hermon,
a mountain which would have required a great effort to climb,
and
Thabor lies nearer the centre of Jesus' preaching.
But it is more probable
that the traditional
choice ofThabor was due to the memory of ancient tradition concerning the site
of this event.
[Origen cannot be quoted in favour of this tradition for
he is silent about Thabor in his commentary on St. Matthew.
The Selecta in Psalmos, vaguely attributed to him, cannot be his, particularly
as regards what is there said concerning Thabor (P.L. XII, c. 1548).
Nor does Eusebius choose either Thabor or Hermon, as might have been suggested
to him by Psalm Ixxxviii.13.
The oldest testimony in favour of Thabor is that of Cyril of Jerusalem (Catech.
XII, 16 ; Migne, P.G., XXIII, 744).
It ought to be said that since his time the tradition has never varied,
and it is represented in our own day by the splendid church built by the Franciscans
on the summit of Thabor.]
The ascent of this mountain requires labour, but we may imagine
that the reason why Jesus chose this spot, an isolated peak looking out in
every direction over the plain, was in order to invite His disciples to join
with Him in prayer.
There was a small town on the summit, but that would
not prevent their finding solitude up there.
Wearied by the walk - it was still summer - the three chosen disciples slept
while Jesus prayed.
When they awoke they saw His face transfigured and His
garments shining with a whiteness such as no fuller could achieve.
Moses and
Elias were talking about the death He was to suffer at Jerusalem,
the death
He was 'to fulfil,' in the words of St. Luke,
as a duty laid upon Him.
Peter
addresses Jesus,
and - how characteristic it is of him! -
his good will is
not altogether free from a certain presumption.
He points out that it is a
good thing he and his companions are there,
for now they can quickly put up
three huts made of boughs,
one for Jesus,
one for Moses,
one for Elias.
The
disciples like faithful servants will sleep out in the open and guard the tents
of the guests.
So he had not understood that neither Jesus who was at that
moment manifesting His glory,
nor Moses and Elias who were the heavenly guests
of Jesus, had any need of shelter.
The answer to his suggestion comes from on high in the form of a cloud.
It
was not merely a rain cloud,
and the disciples were filled with fear when they
saw it come between the sun and themselves,
enwrapping Moses and Elias along
with Jesus.
A voice was heard:
'This is My beloved Son.
Hear ye Him,'
giving them to understand that it was the voice of the Father,
coming out of that same cloud which of old
'covered the Tabernacle of the testimony,
which the glory of the Lord filled.'
[Exodus xl.32.]
The cloud was then a visible sign of the loving
presence of God in the midst of His
people:
now it was appearing for the last time, for from henceforth God was
to manifest Himself through His Son.
And it was certainly Jesus to whom the
voice referred, for the disciples, as soon as they looked round after their
momentary dazzlement, saw no man but only Jesus.
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Mark
ix.9-13; Matt.
xvii.9-13.
[There was no need for St. Luke to speak of this specially
Jewish question to Gentile readers.]
As Jesus came down from the mountain with the three privileged disciples,
He charged them to be silent about what they had seen and heard.
He had good
reason for choosing them alone as witnesses of that glittering transformation
He had undergone.
A larger group, with less understanding than these three,
might the more easily have fallen victims to their own suggestions and have
concluded that they were witnessing the beginning of Jesus' time of triumph.
Indeed He puts even these three upon their guard against such an error by commanding
them not to speak of the incident until the Son of Man shall have risen from
the dead.
In thus maintaining that He was to rise again He reaffirmed that
He had to die.
But would His resurrection from the dead give Him a better body
than that He now had, which had shown itself capable of being so wonderfully
transformed?
The chosen witnesses promised to keep silence and kept their
word, but they revealed their uneasiness to one another:
'When He shall be risen from the dead.'
... What did that mean?
Afraid to question their Master
about a thing which He had so clearly affirmed, and full of the vision which
still haunted their eyes, they tried in vain to reconcile this long delayed
arrival and speedy departure of Elias with what they had learnt from the Scribes
about the office to be fulfilled by that prophet.
If only he had stayed in
the hut which St. Peter had so obligingly offered to build for him!
But now
they could no longer count upon Elias, and there was something obscure about
it all that Jesus alone could throw light upon.
They ask Him:
'Why then do the Scribes say that Elias must come first?'
First means before the Messiah,
and Elias had appeared after Him.
They have a further difficulty which Jesus gathers for Himself,
namely that
Elias was supposed to put everything straight in order to prepare the way
for the Messiah. [See above, p. 14.]
But he has done nothing of the kind and seems inclined
to do nothing.
From this we see that the disciples still stood just where they were before,
so preoccupied with the teaching of the Scribes concerning a King who was to
come in triumph that they are unable to make up their minds to face all the
prophecies which deal with the suffering Messiah.
It is upon this aspect of
the Messiah that Jesus bids them to reflect.
If the Scribes are right,
'how is it written of the Son of Man
that He must suffer many things
and be despised?'
The prophecy to which He refers,
doubtless that in which Isaias shows how
the Servant of God must be rejected and put to death [Isaias
liii.],
must be fulfilled;
it
is the regulating principle of all.
The prophecy concerning Elias will similarly
be fulfilled,
but it must be interpreted in harmony with the prophecies of
the Messiah.
Such as the Messiah, so must the forerunner be.
In fact Elias
had already come in the person of John the Baptist, and had fallen victim to
his own zeal:
'So also shall the Son of Man suffer from them.'
[Matthew xvii.13.]
The true office of Elias as forerunner of the Messiah was in fact explained
by the history of the prophet's life;
this could be seen not only from his
words but also from his fate.
One had merely to recall how he had been persecuted
through having incurred the hatred of Jezabel [3 Kings (1Kgs)
xix.1 ff; xxi.17-26.] in order to see in him a prototype
of the Baptist who had fallen a victim to the hatred of Herodias.
The exact
parallel between the two prophets made John the Baptist a veritable Elias.
The mission of Elias was therefore completed,
and there was no reason to await
his coming any longer.
[The words of Jesus make no allusion to the return of Elias
at the end of the world;
nay they seem rather to exclude it since Elias has already come in the person
of John the Baptist.
This solution is supported by Huby, S.J. in his commentary on St. Mark (p. 204).]
So natural is this dialogue,
so clearly does it show us the anxious questions
filling men's minds at that time,
and the answer to those questions which Jesus
was to provide
by following out the sequence of events in that plan which centres
in Him,
so silent is it about any question of the
miraculous, that even the critics are inclined to admit its genuineness.
But
it can only be understood through the difficulty found by the disciples in
reconciling the glory of Thabor with the prediction of the Passion, the teaching
of Jesus with that of the Scribes.
It is as though a light from on high had
been reflected in the obscurity of their minds which, though so simple, were
so encumbered with prejudice.
top
Luke ix.37-43a; Mark ix.14-29; Matt. xvii.14-21.
It was not until the following day that Jesus and His three companions rejoined
the group of the disciples.
His absence had therefore probably lasted three
days at least.
During the interval the other nine disciples -
if all the Twelve
had been with Jesus -
had been engaged in a matter from which they had not
come with credit.
A man had approached them leading his son by the hand.
The
boy was possessed, he said, by a devil who was dumb and who revealed his presence
by convulsions during which the boy foamed at the mouth, gnashed his teeth,
and became rigid.
The unhappy father had heard of Jesus and now was come to
beg Him to deliver his son.
Not finding Jesus he had appealed to the disciples.
A crowd had collected, among them certain of the Scribes, for they were always
to be found wherever there were Jews.
These wished to have something to say
in the affair and were disputing with the disciples about the best way to drive
out the devil who was so crafty that he refused to disclose his name.
As all
the efforts of the disciples had proved unavailing, the Scribes had taken them
to task.
The onlookers were doubtless saying to one another: 'If only Jesus
were here' when He came up.
The people crowd round Him with surprise and
joy, and He asks what is the matter.
So far we have merely narrated the course of events from the disciples' point
of view, set down by Mark in a striking picture just as it presented itself
to those who came down from the mountain.
It would be impossible to find a
better example of concrete and picturesque expression.
So vivid is the writer's
view of what happened that the chronological order of events is lost sight
of.
We seem to arrive along with Jesus, we share the anxiety of the
bystanders.
To whom, however, does Jesus address the words which seem to be
torn from the very depths of His soul?
'O unbelieving generation!
How long shall I be with you?
How long shall I suffer you?'
The father was
asking for a miracle, but as it were at random, not with any real confidence
in the power of the wonder-worker.
The Scribes were wrangling with the disciples,
perhaps telling them that their Master would have no better success than
they.
The crowd was entertained and felt sure that whatever happened it would
be a sight worth seeing.
What causes the sadness, rather than anger, of Jesus'
words is this proof that so much effort had been in vain.
He has come from
heaven and is like an exile on this earth,
but He has come for their good.
If they do not understand Him,
would it not be better for Him to go away
and leave them to their vain thoughts?
But no; kindness again prevails.
'Bring him unto me.'
The boy is brought and goes into a fit.
Convulsed by
the spirit, he falls to the ground and rolls about foaming at the mouth.
On other occasions the devils had expressed terror in the presence of the
Son of God by cries and words;
this one is silent.
Jesus questions the father.
How long has the complaint lasted?
And the father, surprised perhaps at
hearing such enquiries made after the fashion of a doctor, answers in the
same manner:
From his infancy;
and often he - that is the unseen and dumb spirit
who is the cause of the trouble - has thrown the boy into fire or water.
'But if thou canst do anything,
take compassion on us and help us.'
'If thou canst,' replies Jesus.
Is that all the faith the man can show?
More is needed to obtain a miracle.
Then the poor father cries out:
'I do believe!
Help Thou my unbelief.'
This humble desire does duty for everything;
Jesus asks for nothing more
from him.
As a fresh gathering of people causes the risk of some disturbance,
He commands the dumb and deaf spirit to come out.
The devil utters a cry of
rage,
the fit reaches its paroxysm,
and the child collapses rigid as one dead.
Then Jesus takes him up and the child stands.
Luke, who was a physician, notes
that He cured the boy,
as though to distinguish between the driving out of
the devil and the cure of the disease.
The disciples had, of course, kept in the background in presence of their
Master.
They were upset by their failure.
What was the cause of their failure?
The answer given by St. Mark is one that applies to this case alone.
[The reason given by St. Matthew is the disciples' lack
of faith.
But that is a common remark of Matthew's (vi.30; viii.26; xiv.31; xvi.8), and
indicates a general condition of mind which is always at the root of any failure.
St. Matthew introduces it here to lead up to a saying of Jesus which is placed
by Mark and Luke in other circumstances.
The reason given here by Mark is found in Matthew xvii.21, which is not considered
authentic.]
It was
an exceptionally difficult case, said Jesus, probably because the obstinate
and sullen silence of the devil left the exorcist with nothing by which he
might, so to say, lay hold of him.
In such a case a devil might be present
without anyone even suspecting his presence.
The disciples should therefore
have had recourse to prayer.
It is true that Jesus Himself had uttered no prayer;
but then His Father heard
Him always. [John xi.42.]
The disciples, however, who had allowed themselves to be drawn
too easily into this perilous enterprise, should have been more conscious of
their own powerlessness and ought to have appealed to heaven for help.
The symptoms of the child's malady are evident;
St. Mark describes the signs
of epilepsy even better than St. Luke who was a physician.
In this we find
remarkable proof of the exactitude of St. Peter's interpreter who thus records
the details which his master's memory so faithfully reproduced.
But if the
child was an epileptic, we are inclined to think that the fits were not the
result of diabolic influence.
How many in these days would regard epilepsy
as caused by a devil residing in the victim's body?
Even at that time the
natural character of the disease had been recognized by Hippocrates, though
it was still called the sacred disease.
There is no question of our returning
to the old popular superstition,
yet at the same time we have good reasons
for admitting that cases of diabolic possession do exist,
and no reason for
considering that epileptics are exempt from diabolic possession.
And it may
well be that the physical and moral depression caused by epilepsy may offer
fewer obstacles to diabolic influence than does a healthy constitution.
The
epileptic would not on that account be worse off than a healthy man from the
religious point of view, for possession of the body by the devil gives him
no control over a man's free will. In the case described by the gospel Jesus
recognized the presence of the devil;
that is enough for us, and we take His word for it.
But, it may be asked, why did He not attack the prevailing
error by which men assigned a preternatural cause to epilepsy?
Because it
was not part of His mission to teach truths of natural science even in the
smallest detail.
[We shall return to this point later. Cf. Epilogue, II.]
On the other hand, there is nothing to show that He subscribed
to the common error.
The father of the epileptic quite clearly shares that
error, and the evangelists have faithfully reproduced His words.
But they
seem to have distinguished carefully between the expulsion of the devil and
the cure of the disease.
That is clear enough at any rate in St. Luke [ix.42.],
and
even St. Mark shows that it is after the spirit has gone out of the child
that he suffers his last convulsion.
It is only then that Jesus as it were
restores him to life after he was thought to be dead.
[ix.27.
According to the commentary of Huby, S.J. (p. 207)
the explanation that the epilepsy was caused by diabolic possession is more
in accordance with the gospel text: 'the expulsion of the devil is at the same
time the cure of the child.'
It should rather be said that Jesus was responsible both for the expulsion and
the cure.]
top
Luke ix.43b-45; Mark ix.30-32; Matt. xvii.22-23.
The Transfiguration had provided a splendid lesson for Peter, James, and John:
it had been followed by an instruction on the mission fulfilled by Elias.
Then
had occurred the cure of the epileptic boy which had been such a painful experience
for the rest of the disciples,
and from it Jesus had drawn a lesson for the
benefit of them all.
Thus it was His chief purpose to teach them,
and St. Mark
indeed now tells us how He strove to remain hidden as He passed through Galilee
in order that He might be more at liberty to devote His attention to His
disciples.
[Leaving some spot at the foot of the mountain of the Transfiguration,
Jesus passes through Galilee.
Now Thabor is in Galilee, and that is the chief difficulty against identifying
the mountain of the Transfiguration with Thabor.
Strictly speaking, however, we could understand the text as meaning 'having left
that place, they continued to pass through Galilee.']
The chief point on which He insisted was the Passion,
and He added that it
was to be followed by the Resurrection.
But the mind of the disciples was so
fixed upon the scandal they found in the idea of the Messiah put to death before
receiving the homage of Israel and the Gentiles, or rather in the notion of
His being delivered over to the Gentiles by Israel, that they found it impossible
to overcome this obstacle and so reach the hope that lay beyond it.
Once again
therefore they do not understand.
They allow themselves to be overcome by sadness
and do not even dare to interrogate their Master on this subject which they
find so distressing to their feelings.
Gradually, however, they dismiss from
their minds the unwelcome and gloomy picture and begin once more to occupy
themselves with more hopeful and consoling thoughts, to such an extent, indeed,
that they begin even now to dispute among themselves about which of them shall
have the first place in the kingdom of which they dream.
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Luke ix.46-48; Mark ix.33-37; Matt. xviii.1-4.
It was natural that they should touch Capharnaum in passing through Galilee.
[See on p. 288 the position assigned to the former No. 129
of the Synopsis.]
There, in what the gospels call 'the house' -
perhaps that of St. Peter or
a house put at the service of his Master by St. Matthew -
Jesus was sure to
find a safe refuge where He would not be disturbed.
When they reached the house
Jesus, wearied by the journey, sat down, for He desired to gather together
the Twelve and teach them a lesson.
On the road they had argued hotly.
He had
not interfered, but now He asks: 'What was the subject of your dispute?'
He
knew perfectly well how this question would embarrass them, for they knew their
Master well enough to understand that ambition was displeasing to Him.
Yet
they had not been able to resist the temptation to dispute among themselves
about the question of precedence in the kingdom of God, such as they conceived
it to be and which they expected soon to appear.
But was it not already settled
that the first place was promised to Peter?
Perhaps it was precisely Peter's
privilege that had aroused the rivalry, nay even the envy, of the others.
It
was not an easy thing to acknowledge all this to their Master, so the Apostles
remained silent.
In few words Jesus teaches them what are the conditions necessary
for spiritual power.
He who has the right to command ought to exercise that
right only in the general interest;
he is the servant of all.
Do you each
desire to be first?
Good!
Then let each one of
you strive to be really the least in his heart, for only thus, and only if
he be sincere, will he find the secret of ruling others for their good, that
is by having the firm will to be the servant of all.
To the spoken lesson He proceeds to add a symbolic one.
Taking a child, He
sets him in the midst of them all,
and embracing him (thus showing, in view
of the words He has just spoken, that He is ready to serve the child)
declares:
'Whosoever receiveth one such little child in My name receiveth Me;
and whosoever receiveth Me, receiveth not Me but Him that sent Me.'
Such is the
highest dignity of those who exercise authority in the name of Christ:
to
devote themselves with love and even with tenderness to the care of the least
of all.
And these little ones,
if they are taken care of for Jesus' sake,
because
they are His or in order that they may be His,
stand for Jesus Himself and
for the Father who sent Him.
In this as in everything else the Master sets
the example by taking care of the smallest.
[This is one of the most interesting examples for seeing
the relation between the Synoptic Gospels, and between the Synoptists and tradition.
Mark relies on his readers' powers of penetration and has merely juxtaposed the
verbal teaching and the object lesson;
the first gives the key to the second, which is a much more moving lesson, in
such a way that each completes the other.
St. Luke, however, applies the words to the example and shows in explicit terms
the moral connection between the two.
Yet we need to complete the conclusion he draws:
he is great who is the least of the disciples;
therefore seek true greatness in littleness.
Finally, Matthew does not tell us that the question arose through the conduct
of the disciples;
he puts the question on their lips.
The child is made the type of that humility of heart which is needed if one is
to become the servant of all.
Fundamentally, however, the lesson is the same:
the disciples must have only one concern, to make themselves very small by humility
of heart;
the least shall be the greatest.
Possibly, also, Matthew wished to turn his readers' thoughts towards the kingdom
of God which is in heaven.]
top
In these conversations which take place between Jesus and His disciples everything
seems spontaneous;
they have not the character of some prearranged study
of a set subject.
Some slight incident will arouse in the minds of the disciples
doubts which they immediately expose to their Master;
and Jesus does not disdain to follow them in the wanderings of their thoughts.
John had been struck by the saying 'to receive a child in the name of Jesus';
he and his brother James had been given by their Master the name ' Sons of
Thunder.' [Mark iii.17.]
John understands that to receive a child in the name of Jesus means
to act for Jesus, and consequently for God.
Then he remembers that only a short
time before the disciples had heard someone driving out devils in the name
of Jesus;
they had forbidden him to do this, perhaps at the suggestion of
the zealous John, because the man did not belong to their group.
What was his
authority for using the patronage of their Master, a thing reserved to His
disciples?
Such oversensitiveness does not meet with the approval of Jesus.
The man had
been successful in his exorcisms;
therefore God had not condemned him.
If he had used the name of Jesus, then
he must have believed in the authority of Jesus,
and the fact that he had found
his use of that name efficacious could only serve to confirm his newly-born
faith.
Being in such dispositions it was morally impossible that he should
take sides against Jesus.
Though he did not yet follow the example of the disciples,
surely he would be led to seek that favour.
In these circumstances, declares the Master,
'he that is not against us is for us.'
To repulse him by forbidding
him to perform an act that was good in itself, simply because he was not one
of the chosen group, would mean to drive him away for ever;
and that was neither charitable nor just.
The Church has never held that this decision of Jesus authorizes anyone to
practise exorcism.
At that time anyone was free to attempt it, but later it
was reserved to competent authority.
But the words of Jesus serve as a permanent
lesson for the members of the Church not to reject the co-operation of those
outside the Church when it is a question of doing good.
To do good is to approach
Christ, especially when the good is done in His name;
and to avail one's self of a good that is imperfect is to enter on the path
that leads to something better.
Instead of always remembering what separates
us, we should think of the things that would unite us.
This lesson was not forgotten by John, the apostle of charity.
But neither
did he forget his zeal.
On one occasion when he found himself in the same place
with Cerinthus,
who was an open enemy of his Master Jesus Christ, he refused to remain under
the same roof with such an enemy of the truth.
[A tradition of St. Polycarp handed down by Irenaeus and
found in Eusebius, H.E., Ill, 28, 6.]
top
Mark ix.41-49; cf. Matt. x.42; xviii.5-9; Luke xvii.1-3.
After teaching John that the name of Jesus forms a sort of bond
between all those who invoke it, the Master returns to His earlier thought
about the help to be given to children for His name's sake, having been interrupted
for a moment by the question concerning the exorcist.
It is chiefly His disciples
that He includes under this name of children;
whoever shall give them a cup of water because they are Christ's shall not
lose his reward.
It is a very ordinary kindness to give a cup of water, or
in Palestine to let someone drink from the water-skin filled at the well.
To
refuse such a favour would be a disgrace, and no one claims merit for granting
it.
But what is done for Christ takes on a new value in God's sight,
and what
is done for the disciples is done for Christ.
[This expression owes its origin to later Christian ages;
but the thought owes its origin to Jesus.
It is recorded by St. Matthew (x.43) in different terms and another context.]
Thus there has sprung up in the
Church a new fountain of charity flowing inexhaustibly.
Those who are the recipients
of that charity, especially such as take upon themselves the obligation of
voluntary poverty, ought seriously to ask themselves whether they are really
Christ's.
Jesus began by speaking of duties towards a child,
and He intended the child
to stand for His disciples.
His meaning is summed up as follows:
the disciples
are 'the little ones who believe.'
If we have an obligation of helping them,
then our first and special obligation is the sacred and formidable duty of
not scandalizing them.
This is a grave admonition to those who consider themselves
to be strong, and who need to be strong seeing that they are commissioned to
teach and rule the little ones.
Woe unto those whose weakness is an occasion
of falling for others!
St. Paul has dealt more fully with this precept.
He
who is so enlightened that he can do certain things without going against his
conscience, let him refrain from those things if there is a weak brother who
will be led to imitate his example without being able to discern that the act
is not sinful.
[Romans xiv.13 ff.; 1 Corinthians viii.9 ff.]
St. Mark, who is often said to be Pauline, was certainly not
ignorant of the admirable way in which the Apostle thus developed the precept
laid down by his Master, but he preferred to set it down as Jesus spoke it,
without any comment or addition, in that familiar manner so characteristic
of Him;
and St. Mark was imitated in this by St. Luke and St. Matthew.
If anyone gives scandal to one of these little ones that believe,
'it were better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck and he were cast into the sea.'
The disciples were familiar with the mill turned by an ass,
mola asinaria
as it was called in Latin and similarly in Greek.
The lower stone was like
an inverted hollow cone with a perforation below to allow the flour to escape
when the corn had been ground between the upper and nether millstones.
It may
be that they had seen some wretched individual thrown into the water with such
a perforated stone about his neck like a collar.
A striking illustration of
a terrible fate!
It is intended to show how earnest we should be to avoid
giving scandal.
Still the fact remains that there is scandal all around us, and we have to
take measures to keep ourselves from being influenced by it.
Jesus therefore
proceeds, as St. Mark and St. Matthew relate, to speak of those who might be
affected by it.
The disciple ought to be as determined to flee from scandal
as he is to avoid causing it, even were this to mean sacrificing all that he
holds dearest;
he is hardly likely to be affected by scandal caused by persons
who mean nothing to him.
The danger is lest anyone should be led into sin through
the affection he feels for some master who has taught him or for someone he
loves;
their error may be the cause of his own going astray;
their bad example
may lead to his doing the same thing.
In a word there is danger of failing
in our duty through even legitimate affection.
In such a case it is necessary
to keep at a distance from the source of temptation, to part company and discipline
our affections.
As Bossuet says: 'There is need of all violence in this matter.'
And indeed Jesus treats of the subject with a vigour unparalleled in any other
circumstances, going straight to the heart of the matter with what would be
a ferocious paradox were we to take His words literally.
[It is clear that the disciple will find again in the kingdom
of God what he has sacrificed in order to get there.]
But His words merely
typify a firm resolve to sacrifice everything if necessary - a hand, a foot,
or even an eye.
In all that He here says there is a sort of fixed rhythm;
we are left with no choice but the repeated alternative,
Life or the Gehenna
of unquenchable fire.
We need not ask here what is meant by the hand, the foot,
or the eye.
The elements of this threefold comparison are chosen for the purpose
of indicating an increasingly costly sacrifice;
and we must cut more completely
and more irrevocably in proportion as the danger of sin is more pressing.
This
danger is all the more to be feared when it touches the soul through the medium
of the heart, drawn by the attraction and charm of the objects with which it
comes into contact.
The temptation enters within us very often through the
eyes;
hence St. Matthew was able to include this warning in his Sermon on
the Mount when he wrote of adultery.
The words of Jesus could be interpreted
in that sense also, but it is in connection with scandal given by our neighbour
that they have all their primitive signification;
they are intended in a purely
parabolic fashion without any distinct allegorical meaning.
The things that might need to be cut off from ourselves are too varied to
be enumerated:
the application of the parable must depend on the circumstances.
But, at all events, there is no mistake about the manner in which the two terms,
Life and Gehenna, are opposed one to the other.
They represent two kingdoms
to be entered;
[The abode of fire is called Gehenna in memory of the valley
near Jerusalem, formerly called Ge-hinnom,
where children were sacrificed to
Moloch by being passed through fire.
See the book of Henoch, xxvii.2.]
we shall either live with the life of God or we shall suffer
punishment,
and there is no escape from one or the other.
It might be thought
that the fire would soon devour those cast into it.
But no; that strange fire
both devours and at the same time preserves, as though it were salt.
It never
dies says St. Mark,
'for everyone (who is cast into it) shall be salted with
fire,'
[Mark ix.49. This seems to us the meaning of the verse,
as is easily perceived if v.49 be separated from what follows.]
that is, they shall not be destroyed but preserved by the fire.
Thus distinctly does Jesus envisage the final destiny that
lies before every single one;
he must either go freely and joyfully to God,
or he will be cast whether he likes it or not into the place of torment.
He therefore ought to measure everything with relation to this final destiny.
These dreadful words dull the edge of many a temptation;
the appeal they
contain calls forth many a generous resolve.
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Luke xiv.34-35; Mark ix.50; Matt. v.13.
It was either on this occasion or during the Sermon on the Mount that Jesus
used salt as the symbol of the influence that His disciples ought to exercise
over others.
Salt both preserves and seasons, the second of these functions
being far the more important of the two, and it is of this that there is question
here.
'Salt is good,'
says the Master;
in Arabic the word 'salted ' is constantly
used in the sense of' good.'
If, to suppose an impossibility, salt were to
lose its flavour, what else could be used to restore its loss?
This is its
peculiar character:
it flavours everything, and nothing can flavour salt.
Plutarch [Cf. Quaest. Conv., 669a.] even
says that by the virtue of salt a certain life is given to dead meat which
otherwise would be fit for nothing but to be thrown on the dunghill.
With such a savour as this must the disciples be penetrated, a savour from
which proceeds that lofty moral worth which is the very animating principle
of human life.
If they were to lose this, who would give it back to them?
There is no one.
Let them therefore be animated by this energizing virtue which,
though like the flavour of salt it is somewhat sharp, yet nevertheless is a
salutary virtue;
all the same, they must remain at peace with one another.
[This passage appears in Matthew under a more emphatic form:
'You are the salt of the earth.'
Under this form it serves as a suitable introduction to the other statement:
'You are the light of the world'
(v.14).
There the passage is in excellent context, but it would not have been so if Matthew
had preserved the more impressive form used by Mark:
'Have salt in yourselves'
(ix.50).
There is no appropriate context in Luke.
For the introduction of the subject he follows Mark:
'Salt is good' (xiv.34), without,
however, taking any account of why Mark introduces the subject;
which proves that according to Luke it has a meaning of its own independently
of what precedes in Mark.
But like St. Matthew he insists on the unhappy fate reserved for salt that has
lost its savour.
A further idea is introduced in Mark by the thought of peace, for salt cannot
be the symbol of peace.
He seems therefore to have intended a contrast:
not too much salt if you want peace!]
That is St. Mark's concluding word to the teaching given here.
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In this section of St. Matthew's gospel we find the Master's teaching concerning
the duties disciples owe to one another, along with the advantages to be gained
from their union in one body.
The faithful are all members of the one holy
Church;
consequently it is their duty to guard her purity by doing their utmost
to keep her far from all sin.
It is for this same purpose that she has been
provided with the power of absolution.
Furthermore, her unity which is so dear
to God is a guarantee that her children's prayers will be heard when they pray
as one.
It is the conception of the Church, then, that is the dominating thought
in all this, and it is that which gives unity to the various subjects touched
on by Jesus here.
This view is peculiar to St. Matthew and is followed out
by him in logical order.
All that he here relates takes for granted the passage
dealing with the foundation of the Church which follows Peter's confession.
Here, as before, the terms in which Jesus speaks of the Church are sufficiently
general in character to have provided a basis for the ecclesiastical developments
with which St. Paul makes us familiar.
The subject of fraternal correction grows quite naturally out of what has
been said concerning solicitude for little ones, among whom are included those
who are weak and liable to stray like sheep that have wandered far from the
fold.
If they have sinned, then it is the business of all to strive to lead
them back to the right path -
not by being quick to denounce their fault,
but
by speaking to them privately,
or as we should say, in a heart to heart talk.
If the one in fault refuses to listen,
then two or three others ought to lend
their charitable aid;
and this will serve as a threat towards the obstinate
sinner,
since they will perhaps be witnesses against him.
The sinner who is
accused of a fault about which there is no doubt -
and it is assumed that the
fault is grave -
if he refuses to submit,
then the Church must intervene;
and if he will not listen even to the Church,
let her exclude him from her
bosom.
After that he is to be looked on as a Gentile and a publican.
Not that
he is excluded from the pale of charity;
Jesus was
kindness itself even to publicans, who were considered worse than Gentiles.
But the Church ceases to take responsibility for conduct which would cause
her to be put to shame;
whatever scandal may come from him after this will
come from outside the Church.
The disciples were familiar with the manner
in which the heads of the Synagogue dealt with such cases, though with them
there was no thought of any obligation to try gentle means of converting
the offender to begin with;
hence it must have been clear to the disciples
that by this separation of the sinner from the rest of the community Jesus
meant anathema or excommunication.
But the Church is slower to use severity,
and has a power which the Synagogue allowed to no one but God,
the power
to absolve from sin.
When Jesus here says:
'If thy brother hath sinned,'
He is not addressing any and every Christian;
He is speaking to the group
of those who are immediately associated with Him,
His intimate disciples
and the future heads of the Church,
men who, as we have seen, are already
ambitious to occupy the chief places therein.
He gives to all of them power
to loose and to bind in such a way that their decision shall be ratified
in heaven.
In acting thus He was not taking back from Peter the supreme power
which He had formerly entrusted to him,
but He was making the others share
in it.
It is in a general way only that He refers to the future,
but they
must have gathered that He was speaking of His future Church
which was to
be firmly established on Peter
and would be attacked by the powers of evil;
for as long as Jesus was with
them all jurisdiction belonged to Him.
But He will not always be with them;
He is to leave them.
Nevertheless those
who are faithful to Him will remain united,
and if two or three of them gather
together to pray the Father will grant their prayer,
always in virtue of Jesus'
name which shall as it were envelope them.
And not only will His name be a
pledge of His protection;
He Himself will remain in the midst of His own by
virtue of a special spiritual presence.
[Matthew xviii.20; xxviii.20. Parallel in John xiv.23.]
It is in prayer in common that we
find the most natural fulfilment of this saying of Jesus,
and within the Church
it has always been held in favour and encouraged.
When a group of people pray
together,
they pray better,
especially if they are gathered together in the
presence of Christ in the Eucharist;
but not even literal
interpretation of the most extravagant kind could deduce from the words of
Jesus that none but public prayer is heard by God.
What is insisted on as
essential is that the followers of Christ should be of one mind about the
object of their prayer and that they should pray in the name of Christ who
is in the Church;
the Church being therefore, as St. Paul concluded, the
body of Christ.
Surely all the followers of Christ are at one in having the
same general intentions to pray for!
It was doubtless for the purpose of
reassuring those who prayed in desert solitudes or alone at home that a saying
came to be attributed to Jesus which was conceived in this manner:
'Wherever there are two together,
they are not without God;
and wherever there is one only,
I say unto you that I am with him.'
[The first of the Logia of the Oxyrynchus papyrus.]
Matt. xviii.21-35; Luke xvii.3-4.
With his usual promptness Peter understood that if God forgives,
and if the
Church forgives in His name,
then the disciple must be ready to forgive also.
Jesus had already said as much and in strong terms,
even commanding His disciples
to love their enemies. [Matthew v.44.]
There was
no doubt about the principle.
But the generous, open-hearted Apostle envisaged
a forgiveness that was repeated again and again.
Ought one to go on forgiving
as often as seven times?
To go beyond that number seemed too much to ask;
for if a man continued to offend again and again after having been forgiven
so many times he would seem to be indulging in mere mockery, and it surely
was not right to take part in such a farce.
But God's mercy is infinite;
He
never wearies of forgiving.
Therefore Peter must forgive seventy times seven
times, that is to say always.
Can he who is always in need of mercy refuse
it to others?
One might almost say that such a one ought to be more disposed
to pardon even than God Himself, since he has so often received pardon for
his own offences.
This Jesus explains in a parable suited to the question raised by Peter.
It
is the parable of the discharged debtor who becomes a pitiless creditor.
The
conclusion is that he
whom God has forgiven and who refuses to pardon his brother has shown himself
unworthy of God's mercy.
He has been treated with great indulgence;
had
his heart been touched by this,
surely he would have been only too ready
to forgive his neighbour a trifling debt!
Here Jesus compares the government of God with that of an earthly king.
But
we are not to see in the king a complete metaphor for God;
God does not need,
like this king, to seek information from others.
And yet the king certainly
does represent God, for no earthly prince would be so merciful as he;
moreover
the sum owed is altogether enormous and improbable, and there is something
of an infinite character about man's offences against God.
The parable is therefore
coloured with allegory, as is so often the case with the gospel parables.
It
has also a certain Semitic character;
the servants of the king are in reality
his ministers.
The debt is not the result of a private loan;
the king commands
a tax-gatherer to render his accounts.
The tax-gatherer finds himself with
a deficit for a ridiculous sum,
equivalent to £2,000,000 in gold!
Surely he
must have enriched himself at his master's expense on a tremendous scale.
But
the royal treasury had the same privileges as the king and could refund itself
by seizing all the goods of the debtor;
the man, along with his wife and children,
would even be sold into slavery.
Such was the law.
The guilty man - for certainly
he is guilty - begs for mercy and the king pardons him:
an act of divine mercy
rather than royal clemency, for the debt also is forgiven.
As he goes out,
just when his heart ought to be overflowing with gratitude and in the mood
for pitying others, the wretched man sees one of his colleagues who has the
misfortune to be in his debt for about three pounds:
a colleague who was probably
in a station very inferior to his own, but who nevertheless was a man like
himself serving the same master.
There was no question of needing such a small
sum to make some payment towards the enormous debt he had incurred towards
his master;
he no longer owed anything and he had even been left in possession of his ill-gotten
property.
Churlishly he seizes his fellow-servant by the throat,
and it is
in vain that the latter entreats him and prostrates himself at his feet:
a
mark of respect to which the unmerciful servant was not entitled.
He throws
the poor wretch into prison as though it were a matter of money owing to the
treasury.
The other
servants, courtiers who have access to the king, inform him of their sorrow
and indignation.
In his anger the master hands over the hard-hearted servant
to the torturers until he repays all that he formerly owed.
But what chance
was there of his paying?
It was equivalent to condemning him to lifelong
imprisonment.
These acts of the king we may compare with the manner in which God acts, provided
we make due allowance for God's infinite perfection;
for God does not withdraw
pardon that He has once granted.
Knowing well that such a sinner's heart has
no room for compassion towards others,
He would not have granted pardon in
the first place.
We all stand in need of forgiveness;
we must begin, then,
by forgiving our neighbours.
Such is the practical conclusion to be drawn from
the parable.
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Matt.
xvii.24-27.
[Matthew places this incident before the dispute about
precedence,
thus suggesting that the dispute may have been occasioned by it.
He alludes vaguely, however, to the stay at Capharnaum,
while Mark says explicitly that the dispute took place on the way thither.
We feel bound, therefore, to adopt this order.
In the Synopsis, No. 129 should follow No. 136.]
The presence of Jesus at Capharnaum could not long remain a secret.
In spite
of His precautions to prevent recognition, it became known to the collectors
of the Temple tax that He was in the town.
They knew Him to be the Master,
but Peter, as we have said, often took charge of the temporal affairs of the
group;
they apply therefore to him:
'Doth not your master pay the didrachmas?'
Every Israelite was under an
obligation to pay a half-shekel a year [Exodus xxx.13; Esdras
B (Ezra), x.32.], two drachmas [In
other words a didrachma.] in Greek coinage, for
the upkeep of the Sanctuary.
Perhaps the tax-collectors merely wished to draw
attention in an indulgent and friendly manner to the fact that the tax had
not yet been paid.
It may be also that they wondered whether Jesus does not
perhaps think Himself exempt from it, both on His own account and as regards
His disciples too.
Prompt as ever Peter replies:
'Certainly,' either failing to realize that a question of
principle is involved, or else solving the question without any hesitation.
He goes into the house - either his own or Matthew's - rather to obtain the
money than to ask the advice of his Master.
But Jesus has no money, and He determines
to make Peter consider the matter, this man who but recently had declared
Him to be the Son of God.
Does a king ask his own children to pay taxes?
The logical conclusion to be drawn from the principle of oriental despotism
is that the king alone is the real owner of all the goods of his subjects.
He permits them the free use of these goods on condition of their paying
him a tax by way of rent.
But the goods of his own sons are exempt from this
tax.
If God then, the ruler of Israel, demanded money for the upkeep of His worship,
His Son was under no obligation of contributing towards it.
Nevertheless He
observed the Law as if it had been binding on Him so that He might not give
occasion of surprise or scandal to others.
He would therefore continue to pay
the didrachma, but Peter is to understand that this is without detriment to
the right as Son of God which the disciple has recognized that He possesses.
And since, on the occasion of Peter's confession, Jesus shared with him the
government of His Church, He determines now to pay the tax for them both.
He
does so by a miracle, as if the better to show both that He was completely
free from any obligation in the matter, and also that He possessed nothing,
He who might have had all the treasures of the world for His own.
Fish greedily swallow whatever comes their way.
Peter, the fisherman, goes
out and finds in the mouth of the first fish he catches a stater or shekel,
enough to pay the tax for two.
This sacred tax was collected, according to
the Talmud [Mishnah, Shekalim, III.1.],
before one of the three great feasts.
Easter and Pentecost were
past;
it must have been, therefore, before the feast of Tabernacles,
and it
does indeed seem from the gospel that they were nearing this feast.
After the
great rebellion and defeat of the Jews in AD. 70
the tax was still collected
and paid to the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus.
St. Matthew has not the slightest
suspicion of such a thing;
he views things just as they were in the time of Jesus.
Here again, then, we
find another point that tells in favour of Simon Peter, such as could not possibly
have been invented at a late date for the glorification of the Church of Rome.
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Luke
x.13-15; Matt.
xi.20-24.
[This farewell to the cities is better placed in Matthew
than in Luke, who interposes it in the mission of the seventy-two disciples.]
The mission in the north of the Holy Land was now finished.
When He first
left Nazareth Jesus had devoted Himself specially to the cities of the lake-side,
Capharnaum, Gorozain, Bethsaida.
There he had recruited His best disciples,
though of the people as a whole in those cities it might be said that they
had eyes not to see with and ears not to hear with.
But He desired to make
one last appeal to them, an appeal so much the more earnest in that it was
more sad, in which He summoned the guilty cities to the judgement seat of God.
On the other side of the mountains, standing by the open sea, were Tyre and
Sidon, cities of luxury and commercial grandeur, all the more given up to pleasure
on account of the sensual and brutal character of their religion.
These cities
had merited a dreadful punishment.
Jesus had merely passed through them without
preaching repentance;
He had kept all His energy for His fellow-countrymen
of Galilee;
to them He had opened His heart and promised salvation,
offering
Himself now to them to be their light and life,
the beginning of eternal light
and the pledge of everlasting life.
They refused, and they are in consequence
far more guilty than Tyre and Sidon.
God's contemned appeal falls back heavily
on their rebellious heads, for sin against the light is the gravest of all
sins.
This is the Master's last lesson and it is in the formidable shape of a curse:
'Woe to thee Corozain!
Woe to thee Bethsaida!
For if in Tyre and Sidon had been wrought the miracles that have been wrought in you,
their inhabitants would have long ago done penance,
sitting in sackcloth and ashes.
And thou Capharnaum,
shalt thou be exalted to heaven?
No, thou shalt be cast down to hell.'
Thus Capharnaum has become an accursed city;
nay, it is brought lower than
Sodom and Gomorrha,
the two cities which, as types of crime, were struck down
by God's curse.
Despite their abominable vices, they would yet have been more
obedient to the word than proud Capharnaum, and consequently Capharnaum shall
be judged more
severely than they.
But not even a threat such as this caused that city to
tremble.
And to-day there is no sadder place to the follower of Jesus Christ
than the shores of the lake of Genesareth, so full of beauty in the springtime.
The word that awoke the great hope of salvation on those shores has gone
into the whole world, and everywhere it is heard and kept, everywhere it
brings salvation.
Here by the lake it is no longer heard.
In their town of
Tiberias the Jews seek to preserve only the memory of their great rabbis;
the Rabbi Meir, at whose grand tomb they keep lighted lamps;
Moses-ben-Maimon,
the master whom they compare to Moses.
[The Hebrew inscription on the tomb of Moses Maimonides
sounds like a defiance:
'From Moses to Moses none hath risen like Moses.']
A handful of Franciscans venerate the
presence of Jesus at Capharnaum,
which, like Corozain, is in complete ruins.
As for Bethsaida,
nothing is left but a few traces and even of those we are
doubtful.
After making this farewell Jesus set His face towards Jerusalem.
There His
reception will be even less favourable than in Galilee, and He will be obliged
there also to predict the judgement that it shall draw down upon the city.
The mission in Judaea like the mission in Galilee will end in failure;
in
each case there is the same sorrow in the Master's loving heart,
the same hardening
of the heart among the leaders of the Jews as there has been among the Galilaeans:
but the former are the more guilty of the two, for they have been the more
favoured.
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