By Johann Peter Lange
Edited by Rev. Marcus Dods
THE HISTORICAL DELINEATION OF THE LIFE OF JESUS.
THE FINAL SURRENDER OF CHRIST TO THE MESSIANIC ENTHUSIASM OF HIS PEOPLE.
Section I
the journey of
Jesus to Jericho,
and his association with the
pilgrims to the Passover. the
renewed prediction of his death
on the cross. the wish of the
family of Zebedee. the healing
of the blind at Jericho.
Zaccheus. the parable of the ten
servants and the ten pounds
entrusted to them
(Mat 20:17-34; Mar 10:32-52; Luk
18:31-43; Luk 19:1-28)
ABOUT three years previously,
after His baptism, Jesus had
wandered for forty days in the
rocky desert near Jericho, with
the definite feeling and
consciousness that He must not
yet surrender Himself to the
Messianic expectation and
enthusiasm of His people;
because in this popular cry He
recognised every temptation of
the world and the devil. And He
had then come out from the
wilderness with the full
determination,—while He unfolded
His Messianic life among the
people in the most abundant
blessings,—to veil His Messianic
dignity with a holy reserve, as
the circumstances of the time
required. And now once again He
had retired into the same
wilderness at its north-western
borders, and once again He is
occupied with the same question,
whether now at length He should
yield Himself to His people’s
Messianic hope; and as, at that
time, He had at once resolved to
withhold Himself from the
acknowledgment of His people, as
they were then disposed towards
Him, so now He decided that He
could no longer reject the
desire, the enthusiasm, the
homage of His people; and that
the time had now come when He
must needs publicly confide
Himself to the aspiration of
Israel after its Messiah. In
this opposition between the
necessity for Christ’s entire
withdrawal of Himself from His
people’s homage three years
before, and the necessity for
His entire surrender of Himself
to their allegiance now, are
involved profound problems of
the divine wisdom,—problems
which can only gradually be
solved in endless approximation,
as in them are concentrated the
deepest enigmas of the whole
world’s history. We can only
hint at guesses and beginnings
of the determination of these
problems.
We must, first of all, consider
the decision of Christ as
accomplished. When He the first
time came out of the wilderness,
He turned Himself to the most
distinguished among the people,
in order gradually to unfold His
abundant divine life to them.
Now He comes forth from the
wilderness to the people
themselves, and allows the
supposition to gain ground among
them that He is the King of
Israel, and that He intends soon
to take possession of His
kingdom. In the adoption of
these distinct plans, however,
the Lord was influenced
altogether by the circumstances
of the time. Had He, three years
before, confided Himself to the
people, He must have announced
Himself by the name of the
Messiah; in which case the
people in their carnal
enthusiasm would have attributed
to Him the Messianic
dispositions, undertakings,
works, and signs, which would
accord with such expectations as
had been illustrated in the
three great temptations. But now
He had unfolded the genuine
Messianic spirit, the truly
Messianic purpose, in its works
and signs. He had authenticated
and revealed Himself as Messiah,
conformably to His own will, in
His Spirit, i.e., in the Spirit
of God. And when the people now
greeted Him by the name of
Messiah, it was not done in a
Jewish chiliastic sense, but
with the dim presentiments, at
any rate, of the higher Christologic recognition.
For this reason also, the
consequence of His surrender of
Himself to the people was
entirely different now from what
it would have been three years
before. At that time, the first
result would have been the
breaking out of a tremendous
popular disturbance. An
unutterable confusion would have
followed thereupon; and if
Christ had opposed Himself to
this terrible intoxication, He
would have been sacrificed to
the hatred of the people. Then,
however, there would have been
no society which could at all
have understood the meaning of
His sacrifice, or could have
received it with heartfelt
appreciation. It was otherwise
now. His life had already
originated a separation between
the more noble and the more
ignoble elements in the Jewish
expectation of the Messiah. The
palm-procession was the
expression of the better hopes
of His people; and therefore it
presented an appearance so
sublime, and was so dignified by
the spiritual consecration of
His presence, as if it had been
a pure and beautiful vision of
heaven,—a spirit procession of
blissful men to the feast of
their Lord, appearing here for a
moment in the midday-light of
earthly reality, and then
passing away. The worldly
spirit, that was the special
evil in the Jewish hope of the
Messiah, had already fallen away
from this heavenly vision, and
had placed itself in direct
opposition to it; so that the
palm-procession also was
ignorantly hushed up by the
foreboding of the opposed
hostile power, while, on the
contrary, the tears of the grief
of Christ hallowed it. Yes! this
noble eagerness for the Messiah
in Israel was so little beside
desire, hope, and longing, so
much of a womanly cry (bridelike
cry of the people, perhaps),
that it was not able to protect
the Lord against the designs of
the hostile power opposed to
Him; so that almost immediately
upon the ‘Hosanna,’ followed the
‘Crucify Him!’ But in this
weakness of the growing society
of Christ lay also its power.
The Lord had now trained for
Himself a company of disciples,
who could allow His crucifixion
to occur without obscuring its
pure influence with fanatical
deeds of violence; who could see
Him die on the cross without
altogether despairing of His
truth and dignity, and of His
kingdom; and who, after all,
were altogether matured for the
purpose of adopting in
themselves the faith in the
crucified Saviour of the world.
And this leads us to the most
real and substantial solution of
the question, Why Jesus could
not yield to the allegiance of
the people three years before,
and yet could do so now? We
should neither be able, nor do
we wish, to conceive what would
have been the result, had there
been at that earlier time a
Messianic entry of Jesus into
Jerusalem. But we know this,
from this procession now
followed the crucifixion, and
from the crucifixion issued the
salvation of the world.
Here, however, the inquiry might
be suggested, Why did Jesus
surrender Himself to the homage
of His people, if He foresaw
that this homage would prove a
failure, and that from it would
proceed the treason of the
people against His life and the
crucifixion? And this question
brings us to the probable
historical cause which induced
the Lord to yield Himself in
this public manner to His
people. It is certain He could
no longer refuse them this
surrender now. His nation’s most
intense expectation called Him
to the holy city and to the holy
place. In accordance with the
laws of the life of the
Israelitish people,—in
accordance with the predictions
of the prophets,—He must now for
once respond to this
expectation, if He would fulfil
all righteousness. Only thus
could the authentication of His
righteousness, and its testimony
to His people and to humanity,
be accomplished. It must be
manifested how the Jewish
nation, and how the whole of
humanity in its earthly
blindness, could treat, and
actually does treat, all its
ideals,—all beautiful bright
forms of its carnal hope; yes,
even its most deeply inspired
expectation, the entire kingdom
of heaven it had longed for, and
its actual and glorious divine
heritage. But as Christ must
meet the expectation of His
people in general, so also must
He meet the claims of His foes.
They had published the order,
that whoever knew His place of
abode should declare it. Now it
was His care publicly to give
account to the spirit of enmity
which pursued Him with this
mandate, certainly not with
nervous haste, but at such an
hour as was fitting for His
princely dignity. But, finally,
He must confide Himself fully
for once to the hopeful heart of
His own friends, to their
anticipations, and to their
faithful vows. It must be seen
how they would defend their
Christ, or how they would suffer
with Him. Thus, therefore, a
threefold necessity summoned Him
to this public arena. Once Satan
had called Him thrice to the
stage, and He did not appear.
Now the Father called Him by His
name,—thrice, it may be said,
since He called Him by a
threefold motive,—and Jesus came
forth at once out of the
wilderness to accomplish His
will.
When Jesus with His disciples
now departed from Ephraim, it
was evident that He was going
with them to meet the last
crisis of His destiny. It was
then at once declared that He
would give Himself up to His
people, and be publicly honoured
as Messiah. But that was just
the moment to which the
disciples had looked with all
the aspiration and hope of their
hearts, from the first hour in
which they had devoted
themselves to Him. It is easily
conceived, therefore, that now
all their Messianic hopes
revived again more mightily than
ever.
But the misgivings also which
Jesus had suggested to them by
His repeated warnings of His
suffering, and which the
terribly evident hostile
relation of the hierarchy had
already so often confirmed, must
now have awakened in their full
strength. And thus they were
thrown into a state of
extraordinary agitation and
suspense, which the Evangelist
Mark has depicted in clear
strong lines (chap. 10:32). They
were full of astonishment and
terror (ἐθαμβοῦντο) at the
tremendous solution of the vast
problem behind which they
expected death and life, hell
pains and heavenly glory,
suddenly standing before them so
closely. With glad excitement
and devotion, but also with
trembling, they followed the
Lord (ἀκολουθοῦντες ἐφοβοῦντο).
But Jesus found it needful once
again to predict to them His end
with the greatest accuracy; and
not only His suffering, but also
His resurrection. For it was
necessary for them also to know
what glory they had to expect,
that they might not mistake His
dignity and royalty, and in
order that they might not be
perverted by doubts in the night
of the tempest of His
tribulation (Kreuzes-sturms).
Thus, therefore, the prediction
was at this time more definite
than ever. Especially the Lord
now brings forward from the
earlier announcement of His
rejection, that the Son of man
should be delivered into the
hands of sinful men, the two
terrible features, that one (of
the company of His own
disciples) should deliver Him to
the high priests and scribes;
and that these, after they had
condemned Him to death, should
abandon Him to the
Gentiles,—abandon their Messiah
to the Gentiles,—for complete
temporal destruction. Moreover,
He particularized the three
chief modes of this destruction,
when He announced that He should
be delivered to the Gentiles for
mockery (amidst insults and
spitting), for scourging, and
for crucifying; and that He
would thus incur a threefold
worldly destruction, of which,
according to human justice, the
first form ought in reason to
exclude the second, and the
second the third, since it is an
especial outrage to scourge Him
who is already degraded by
mockery, and to add crucifixion
to Him who is degraded by
scourging, or inversely to
execute Him who is destroyed in
the third manner, in either of
the other two modes.
Although, however, Jesus
announced to His disciples as
clearly as possible His
resurrection on the third day,
they could not even now
acquiesce in another
announcement, which seemed so
sharply to cross their high
anticipations. The Evangelist
Luke again puts it forward very
expressively, how utterly
incapable they were in their
state of mind of clearly
understanding the declaration of
Jesus, and accommodating
themselves inwardly to it. This
want of understanding was of a
threefold character, as is
generally the case under similar
circumstances. They did not
readily enter into the meaning
of the word of Jesus (οὐδέν
συνῆκαν). The consequence was
the judicial award of God, that
therefore from them also the
meaning of the saying of Jesus
should be hidden (ἦν τὸ ῥῆμα
κεκρυμμένον), and that resulted
now in their not comprehending
effectually the sense of what
was said by Jesus (οὐκ ἐγίνωσκον).1
That the disciples did not
perfectly receive into their
hearts the prediction of the
Lord, is manifest in the
clearest manner from the
solicitude of the children of
Zebedee, James and John, which
was brought under His notice
about this time by Salome.
Before we consider this desire,
the question presses upon us,
How comes Salome at this time
into the company of Jesus? We
know that she was among the
women who had already, at an
earlier period, begun to
accompany and to care for the
Lord. And thus it may be
conjectured, that she has still
continued to be among His
followers. Only, on the other
hand, the circumstance might
seem to contradict this, that
Jesus had of late sought to live
as far as possible concealed in
Ephraim, and therefore would not
safely retain in His company
more disciples than the twelve.
And thus it is probable, that
during the concealment of Jesus,
Salome had not been among His
followers. But from the
circumstance, that Jesus had
already a considerable
attendance when He entered into
Jericho, we are led to the
supposition, that His special
friends and dependants in
Galilee, travelling through
Samaria, had already met with
Him in Ephraim, and were
approaching Jericho in His
company. Doubtless the
enthusiastic and courageous
woman Salome was also in this
procession. And on the way to
Jericho she had time, with her
sons, to mature the petition
which she desired to lay before
the Lord. According to the
representation of the Evangelist
Mark, it must be supposed that
the presentation of this
petition occurred while they
were still on their way to
Jericho, perhaps immediately
before Jesus fell in with the
larger companies of pilgrims.
There is no real difficulty in
the fact that Matthew relates,
that the mother of Zebedee’s
children had come forward with
them, had cast herself down
before Jesus, and had besought a
favour from Him; while, on the
other hand, the Evangelist Mark
places this address in the mouth
of the two aspirants themselves.
Mark declares, that the urgent
motive of the request
substantially existed in the
disciples; while Matthew more
accurately gives us the form in
which they preferred the
request, namely, through the
mother, who certainly, in
accordance with her ambitious
character, was at one with her
sons in their desire. But the
statement of the request is
characteristic. Here, first of
all, Salome was treating the
Lord as the Messianic Prince of
the kingdom. Prostrating herself
at His feet, she besought of Him
a favour; and to the simple
question of Jesus, ‘What would
ye that I should do for you?’
followed the request, that He
would grant to her sons to
occupy the places at His right
hand and at His left in His
kingdom. How would the Lord
sadly smile at this request!
They had no sort of presentiment
what terrible places of honour
they would have shortly attained
if their wish had been accorded
them, namely, the places of the
two thieves who were crucified
with Jesus, at His right hand,
and at His left. ‘Ye know not
what ye ask!’ said the Lord,
doubtless with a shudder in His
soul at the absence of
foreboding with which His
beloved disciples could ask a
thousand times for that which
was perilous, or even
destructive, and still oftener
for that which was unreasonable.
For not only the want of
foreboding with which they asked
for themselves the places of the
thieves, but also the arrogant
regardlessness with which they
aspired above all the other
disciples, deserved a repulse.
Yet Jesus had in view chiefly
that unconscious desire for
misfortune in their request when
He continued His address: ‘Can
ye drink of the cup which I
shall drink of,
The question might here arise,
If Jesus at all intended to
correct the two disciples in
their desire, wherefore He
should, as it were, upbraid them
with the counter-question,
whether they could drink His
cup, and be baptized with His
baptism? The difficulty,
however, is solved, when we
remember the double meaning
alluded to already, which,
unconsciously to the disciples,
was hidden in their request.
They wished at once to occupy
the places at His right hand and
at His left. Herein they had
unwittingly asked for the lot of
the two thieves. And it is in
this sense that Jesus says to
them, Ye know not what ye ask.
Can ye share My sufferings? When
they in reply assure Him that
they can, their words assume
another meaning, which the Lord
partially acknowledges, in
promising them that they should
surely undergo with Him all His
sufferings. But from such
sympathy does not result the
place at His right hand and at
His left, either here in His
deepest humiliation, or
hereafter in His highest glory.
The desire of the sons of
Zebedee was probably not merely
an ambitious effort after
dignity; it was inspired by a
nobler motive. Rather their wish
was, now that the Lord had
spoken so plainly of His
suffering, and perhaps some of
the band of disciples might be
terribly discouraged thereby, to
express in the strongest way the
confidence with which they, on
their part, anticipated His
glorification. Without
undervaluing the significance of
His sorrowful predictions, they
were desirous, in their noble
and magnanimous nature, of
making known that they
nevertheless were ready, and
counted it the highest happiness
of their life, to partake in the
most intimate manner with Jesus,
in His future circumstances and
destiny, and to associate their
future altogether with His.
Certainly they did not forebode
how soon and how sadly His
career would descend into the
death of the cross. At all
events, however, it is probable
that their request was not free
from the elements of an
ambitious aspiration. And thus
there appears in this scene a
marked contrast with the great
prediction of suffering that so
immediately preceded it. But
this contrast is most peculiar,
precisely at the moment when
Jesus warns His disciples that
He should die on the cross, amid
all possible worldly ignominy,
and when immediately thereupon
the mother Salome advances, and
asks for her sons the two places
on the right and on the left
hand of Jesus.
When the ten disciples of Jesus
were aware of the application of
the two brothers and its
refusal, and the explanation of
Jesus, they were indignant at
them. This was not the first
time that the question had been
raised among them, who should be
the greatest? According to the
positions which Peter and John
usually occupied in relation to
Jesus, it was natural, upon
their old principles of life,
that they should seek to obtain
precedence of one another, and
that not only factions should be
formed in the band of disciples
for the one and the other, but,
moreover, that special claims
should be alleged of third
persons besides. But only lately
the Lord had most strongly
discountenanced these emulations
of the disciples. Probably since
that time they had not allowed
any more of their endeavours to
transpire. Therefore it seemed a
double wrong done to the company
of disciples, that these two,
with the help of their mother,
should at once seek to carry
away this distinction. Their
pretensions easily kindled the
eagerness of the pretensions of
the rest again. Moreover, the
absolute refusal which they met
with from Him, might seem to
authorize some among the rest to
entertain new hopes. At any
rate, they appeared entitled to
be much displeased with the
attempts of the two. But Jesus
discountenanced this indignation
just as much as He had all old
and new pretensions of the kind,
by a decided reprimand. He
called them together, and in the
assembled circle of
disciples—shall we say, in the
council of apostles—He spake
thus: ‘Ye know that the
acknowledged princes of the
peoples4 rule over them from
above,5 and that the great ones
among them from above exercise
power over them.6 (That the
acknowledged visible powers from
a high throne exercise their
dominion, and that the still
unacknowledged mighty ones
masterfully attain dominion over
princes and peoples.) But so it
ought not to be among you! But
whosoever among you will be
great, let him be your minister;
and whosoever among you will be
the first, let him be your
servant.’ Thus, therefore, there
is recognised no ascendancy of
power in the kingdom of Christ
other than that which proceeds
out of loving ministry, and no
ascendancy of lawful dignity
other than that which proceeds
from the real service of the
individual on behalf of the
community. These negative and
positive instructions of Christ
are just as strict as they are
full, just as precise as they
are unlimited. They find their
complete illustration only in
the fullest life of the Spirit,
the meekness, love, and liberty
of the faithful. Moreover, they
are not at all to be considered
as mere paradoxes, which would
abrogate the rightful relations
in the congregation, but as the
most delicate outlines by which
they ought to be regulated;
above all, there should be no
manner of unqualified supremacy
in the congregation which does
not stand to the community on
terms of continual modification
and reciprocity.7 No dignity in
the congregation ought to have
any value as ordained over it in
the abstract, but only such as
is renewed from time to time by
the free acknowledgment of the
people. And in this connection
the imperious psychic tyranny of
the illegitimate powers of
heresiarchs and leaders of sects
of all kinds, ought to be
rejected not less than the
overbearing rule of legitimately
established visible powers of a
spiritual kind. But that control
which proceeds out of the
service of love towards the
members of the community, ought
to prevail as power and
greatness in the congregation,
according to the measure of its
ability, and of the popular
right subsisting therein; and
that office which proceeds on
the surrender of oneself as a
servant to the Spirit and Lord
in the congregation ought to be
accounted a priority, a
government in the community,
just in consequence of the fact
that the bearer of the office
becomes a servant of the Lord of
the congregation, in conformity
with the authority which the
Lord has given to Him, and which
the congregation have given to
Him. But when individuals in the
community claim a power and an
authority contrary to the
Spirit, the privilege, the life,
and will of the congregation,
the people are instructed to
degrade them in the same degree
in which they would exalt
themselves. They must in such a
case be recognised as symbolical
taskmasters for Christ, and
therefore be degraded into
ministers and servants of the
free community in the legal
sense.
No man ought to seek to rule
over the people of God, since,
as the Lord says in conclusion,
‘the Son of man Himself is not
come to be ministered unto, but
to minister, and to give His
life a ransom (λύτρον) for
many.’ He Himself has
established this church by
ministry, by the great service
of love. Therefore it cannot be
built up by the lordly rule of
His servants over it, but only
by a service of love like to His
own. Yea, He has redeemed it
from all service with the costly
purchase-money of His life and
blood, and formed it into a free
society. Such a society of such
redeemed ones made free by such
a ransom is the free community
in the highest sense; it should
never be enslaved, least of all
by a horribly despotic effusion
of the blood of its members.
So long as the world needs
visible powers and dominions, it
finds them, according to the
counsel and will of God, among
the princes and mighty ones of
the peoples. The apostles of the
Lord, in their peculiarly
symbolical pזdagogic control,
ought neither to wish to emulate
them, nor to supplant and
restore them, nor yet to
complete them.
When Jesus came to Jericho from
Ephraim, in order there to join
a large festal procession, He
would not perhaps in any case
make His entry and His exit
through the two gates of the
city that are placed opposite to
one another. He did not come
from Jordan through the eastern
gate, which leads out upon the
road to Peræa, but He approached
the city from the north-west,
while He would leave it again in
a south-westerly direction, on
the way to Jerusalem. It is
possible, also, that He might
have entered the city through
the same gate by which He left
it again later; possibly, also,
He might have approached through
a road of the Jordan valley, and
have cut through part of
Jericho, and so have pursued His
journey with the festal caravan
on the rocky road towards
Jerusalem.
It is confessedly a difficult
problem to reconcile with one
another the several accounts of
the Synoptic Evangelists of the
cure of the blind men which
Jesus performed at Jericho.
Matthew, for instance, relates
that Jesus had given sight to
two blind men on His departure
from Jericho. Mark informs us
only of the healing of one blind
man, which, in conformity with
Matthew’s account, occurred as
Jesus left Jericho. On the other
hand, Luke speaks of the healing
of one blind man, which the Lord
performed at His entrance into
that city. At the same time,
however, it is worthy of note
that the circumstances under
which, according to the various
descriptions, these several
cures occurred, very much accord
with one another.
It might be possible to seek to
throw light on this difficulty,
by supposing that Jesus entered
and left Jericho by one and the
same gate. The order of events
might be conceived of somewhat
after the following manner. The
blind man sat near the gate
through which Jesus at first
entered, and afterwards left,
the city. He began even at the
entrance of Jesus to cry to Him
for help. Being, however, at
some distance from the
procession, he was threatened
and put to silence by some who
would now suffer no delay, and
thus his prayer did not reach
the ear of Jesus. But now, when
the Lord was returning through
the same gate, he prosecutes his
appeal, and presses through the
opposition of those who would
restrain him with his cry, the
rather that the right time had
arrived for the Lord to help
him. It is at this point that
Mark has taken up this history,
and has represented it in a
close and lively manner. It may
be seen that he was accurately
acquainted with the facts; he
names the blind beggar, he is
called Bartimæus. But he took up
the circumstance, that the
beggar had already sought help
and been checked at the entrance
of Jesus, into the
representation of this moment.
On the other hand, Luke heard
tell that the beggar had already
cried to Jesus before His entry.
Perhaps this fact was made clear
to him by an indication of the
place where the beggar had been
seated when Jesus drew near to
the city. In the meantime, it
escaped his notice that the cure
itself did not occur till the
departure of Jesus. Thus Luke
was induced to place the miracle
before the entrance of Jesus;
Matthew, on the contrary,
transposed it, with Mark, to the
departure of Jesus from Jericho.
But when the later Greek reviser
of the Hebrew Matthew met with
the narratives of the other two
Evangelists, he combined them,
and thence would arise his
representation, according to
which there occurred the cure of
two blind men.
That which most commends this
hypothesis is the extraordinary
similarity that may be observed
between the account of the
healing of the blind which Mark
relates to us, and that which
Luke relates. The striking
character of this resemblance
cannot in fact be so easily got
over, if we suppose, with
Ebrard,8 that
two cures
occurred, one at the entrance,
another at the departure of
Jesus. But the circumstance
would indeed become the more
peculiar if actual variations
should be found in the two
accounts, which would suggest a
difference in the individual behaviour of the two blind men.
Such a variation Ebrard
discovers in the fact, that the
blind man of Mark, ‘at the mere
call, throws away his garment,
rises, and in manifest eagerness
comes forward to Jesus, while
the blind man of Luke is led to
Jesus.’ This latter
circumstance, however, is not
quite so certain. According to
Luke, Jesus commanded the blind
man to be brought to Him. But it
is not therefore said that the
blind man actually allowed
himself to be led to Him, and
that he did not, at this call,
in joyous excitement throw away
his garment and follow the sound
of the voice of Jesus, as one
that through faith was already
half-endowed with sight.
It must by all means be
observed, that it is not quite
determined that Jesus went in
and out of Jericho by the same
gate. He might, however, have
entered the city from the Jordan
valley by a northern gate. On
the other hand, the blind beggar
might have found it to his
interest on this occasion to
have changed his position. At
all events, the healing of the
blind man which Luke relates, so
nearly resembles the cure of
Bartimæus in Mark, in the
characteristic features of its
treatment, that it is easier to
suppose that an inaccuracy has
occurred in reference to the
statement of the time, than that
the narrative of Luke has been
in some degree coloured up to
the tradition of Mark, as must,
at least according to
appearances, have been the case
otherwise in this place.9
But even if the cure of the
blind man which Luke relates
should, on the grounds
specified, be identical with
that of Mark, there is on that
account no necessity to refer
the cure of a second blind man,
which Matthew in his narrative
includes with the great
characteristic healing of the
blind, to a misunderstanding of
the later reviser. Rather it is
extremely probable that the
Evangelist here also, after his
custom of bringing together
contemporary miracles of a
similar kind,10 combined a cure
of the blind which occurred of
smaller importance with the
greater one, which the Evangelic
memory especially retained. In
accordance with these
observations we must return to
the cure of the blind by Jesus,
at the narrative of the
departure of Jesus from Jericho.
Already at His entrance Jesus
was surrounded, according to
Luke, by a crowd of people. This
crowd consisted, as has been
already observed, partly of
Galilean friends who had joined
Him on the direct way through
Samaria, partly perhaps,
besides, of Passover pilgrims
and inhabitants of Jericho, who
had come out of Jericho to meet
Him.
The city of Jericho,
characterised by its name as the
city of Fragrance,11 was the
famous palm-city of the Jews,
whose neighbourhood was
peculiarly celebrated as an
exquisite region of heaven. The
land ‘wherein flowed milk and
honey,’ presented in that
valley, which is watered by the
wonderful spring of Elisha, the
most perfect illustration of His
blessing in spite of the
poisonous serpents that were
bred by the hot temperature of
that deep valley, shut in by
high rocks and permeated by warm
mists from Jordan. There bloomed
the princely plants, the palm,
the balsam-tree, and the
rose-tree, in the midst of a
luxuriant and fragrant vegetable
kingdom.12 In the history before
us, however, this natural glory
of Jericho is not represented by
the rose of Jericho, but by a
sycamore-tree, which just at
this time bore a wonderful fruit
of the noblest kind.
Jericho was, above many others,
a city of priests and of
publicans. It might perhaps be
pleasing to the priests to lead
a life of contemplative quiet
here, in the fulness of the
blessing of their land, under
the palm which was the symbol of
their country. But it was in
consequence of the commercial
relations of the land, that, in
contrast to its numerous
priesthood, it numbered just as
many publicans. It was not only
that there was much custom to
pay here, because the produce of
the neighbourhood of Jericho was
abundant, but also because the
city lay on the road from Peræa
to Jerusalem, near to one of the
fords of Jordan.
But now it happened that in this
hasty, it may be said brief,13
passage through Jericho, our
Lord did not abide at the house
of one of the many priests who
dwelt there, but at the house of
a publican.14
This history, which tradition
has spared, formed part of those
which Luke with the greatest
delight collected. He relates it
with joyous excitement (καὶ ἰδοὺ) At
Jericho dwelt an important
citizen, Zaccheus by name, a
superior collector of taxes,15
who was known as a wealthy man.
This person earnestly wished to
see Jesus as He passed through,
that He might have some idea of
His appearance (τὶς ἐστι). But
as he was little of stature, and
the people crowded round the
Lord, he could not get a sight
of Him. But he would and must
see Him; that was evident in his
determination to forego all the
propriety of a person of
consequence; so he ran forward
and climbed up on a
sycamore-tree (such as grew in
abundance on the roads in
Palestine), in a place where
Jesus must needs pass by.
Possibly, perhaps, he may in his
haste have offended some who saw
him run, and his name may have
been mentioned among them,
coupled with scoffing remarks.
At any rate, Jesus may easily
have learned his name somewhere.
When he came near to the tree He
looked up, and the glance of the
Saviour of mankind met that of a
soul that needed salvation. Thus
the Lord finds out His own
people everywhere, even in the
most peculiar circumstances. But
this man did not perhaps know
how it befell that Jesus knew
him by name, when He called him
down from the tree, and invited
Himself to his house as a guest,
announcing that to-day He would
abide at his house for a time. Zaccheus quickly left his
position and joyfully welcomed
his dignified guest.
At this moment it is once more
made manifest how little of true
attachment was mingled with the
homage that Jesus received from
those who accompanied Him. There
spread through the crowd a
considerable murmur at His
seeking refreshment at the house
of so notorious a sinner.
Zaccheus appeared to them a
sinner with reference to the
Jewish community; therefore
Jesus seemed to them, by the
confidential intercourse into
which He entered with such a
man, to compromise the whole
body of His companions in its
social purity and consideration.
But the fault-finders were soon
shamed by the grand act of
Zaccheus, which manifested that
now his heart was celebrating
the birth-hour of a new life. He
came forward to the Lord, and
uttered the vow, ‘Behold the
half of my goods I give to the
poor; and if I have at all
over-reached anybody at any
time, I will repay it
fourfold.’16 Certainly this man
was no real deceiver: for he
knew by sure calculation that he
could, first of all, bestow half
of his possessions on the poor;
that he then, moreover, of the
other half, could repair
fourfold every fraud of which he
might have incurred the guilt;
and that, after all, there would
probably still be left a
sufficiency for his maintenance.
Thus this filling up of His
offer indicates most strongly
the consciousness of the upright
man in a commercial sense. And
yet just thus is defined the
consciousness of the sinner. He
does not conceal that he may
have fallen into sin, at least
through some more subtle fraud,
for he feels now that his former
gains have become vanity. He
represents this as being very
probable, although it is not
evident to him what
responsibility might fall upon
him in this respect. It was a
great moment of trial for him
when he came before Jesus so
confidently with this bold
undertaking. If his deed had
been a mere act of appearance,
of selfishness, or of
self-righteousness, he could not
have stood before the eyes of
Jesus. Jesus looked through him,
and found that the act was an
expression of his
enfranchisement. The form of His
answer indicates as much. Just
for that reason, because this
day is salvation come to this
house. On that day the house had
become poorer in earthly
possessions by one-half, and
perhaps a great deal more; but
Jesus, nevertheless, considers
the house fortunate, because on
that day it had found the true
heavenly treasure. Zaccheus had
done to the poor a great and
glorious benefit; but Jesus does
not call the poor fortunate, but
considers him blessed: and that
not so much for the good that he
did, as for the salvation that
he received. In fact, he
perceived, from the offering
that Zaccheus made, that
salvation had come to him-that
he had experienced the power of
grace to the regeneration of his
life. Then He turned to the
accusers of the man thus
blessed, with the words, ‘for
that he also is a son of
Abraham.’
They had not considered that the
publican was a son of Abraham
according to race, when they
wanted to abandon him without
love, as incapable of becoming
better; and they did not
anticipate that he might even in
a higher sense become a son of
Abraham by his soul’s need of
salvation, and by faith. But now
they must know, that in the
fullest sense he is Abraham’s
son: so that for the future,
they must no longer prevent his
receiving grace by their
narrow-hearted judicial
restraints. Precisely because he
was Abraham’s son, he was, in
virtue of his sinful publican’s
life, a lost one; and because he
was a lost one, because he had
sunk below his original worth
and destiny, and was capable of
a restoration and return to a
higher life, therefore Christ
has sought him. For just
therein, says He, consists His
entire mission, that He might
seek and save that which is
lost.
The Lord thus charges those who
had blamed Him, first of all,
with having, in the publican,
despised the Jew—then, the man
who was in need of salvation—and
finally, the man desirous of
salvation, and the man actually
visited and taken possession of
by salvation. And whilst He
declared to them that it was,
and continued to be, His mission
to seek the lost, He gave them
to understand how they
themselves must be found, if
they would have a share in his
salvation.
The greater the distance between
the original and historical
destination of a man and his
actual sinfulness, the more is
he a subject for the seeking
compassion of Christ. And the
more heartfelt has been a man’s
sense of this distance, the
nearer is his salvation to him.
But those who conceive that
their actual condition is at one
with their destination, or even
beyond it in excellence, these
are entirely alienated from it.
They are prone to see only
outcasts in the prodigals; and
they attribute this kind of
consideration also to the Lord.
They would reduce the Saviour of
the world always to a Prince of
the Pharisees; but He would
rather be crucified with the
thieves than abandon the lost.
For Him the two are identical.
They are Abraham’s sons; just
for that reason (that they are
so) they are lost. They are lost
(they feel themselves so in
their deep degradation from
their destination); for that
very reason they are Abraham’s
sons.
With this declaration, and the
visit to Zaccheus on which it
was founded, the Lord had again
come into direct opposition to
the Pharisaic spirit. Moreover,
He found it necessary once more
decidedly to repulse, not only
the legal Pharisaism which
wished again to obtrude itself
on Him, but also the chiliastic
Pharisaism. For His hearers
thought, that when He was now so
near to Jerusalem as Messiah,
the kingdom of heaven would
manifestly appear. Therefore He
added (προσθεὶς), to what had
been said, the parable of the
ten servants, who were to trade
with ten pounds in the absence
of their lord. That feature of
the parable, especially, would
serve for a reproof of those
enthusiastic chiliasts,
according to which the Lord was
just on the point of going into
a strange country to receive
there the dominion over His
citizens, while they purposed
utterly to reject His claims. He
could not more plainly say to
them that they would find
themselves disappointed in their
expectations. And when,
moreover, He described the
apparently small traffic
wherein, in the meantime, His
true servants would seek to
further His cause by peaceable
gains, as if that revolution
were nothing to them, He told
them plainly how remote was the
vocation of His people from
political enterprises, which
would seek as their result to
force upon the world a political
and external acknowledgment of
Christ—so remote indeed, that a
certain critic could see, even
in the genuine endeavour of the
faithful in the world, and in
the political agitation of the
world itself, to get rid of the
dimly anticipated dominion of
Christ, two independent
parables.17
Nevertheless, however, that the
Lord allowed Himself now to be
publicly acknowledged as
Messiah, was the result of the
history of the cure of the blind
man, which He performed at His
departure from Jericho. Once He
attended, not publicly, to the
cry of the blind man who wished
to proclaim Him prematurely as
the Son of David. But now He
stood still when He noticed the
call of Bartimזus, the son of
Timזus, who besought Him,
‘Jesus, Thou Son of David, have
mercy upon me.’ Although now
great crowds surrounded Him, and
although many sought to silence
the blind man, some perhaps
because such a public
glorification of Jesus was
grievous to them, others because
they might think that the time
for these single miracles of
healing of Jesus was now gone
by, and that the progress of the
great King ought not to be
checked any more by the case of
blind beggars. But when Jesus
stood still, and commanded that
he who cried for help should be
brought to Him, the beggar
immediately found sympathisers
enough.
Many were in the company around
Jesus who bade fair to become
supple courtiers in the service
of the great Son of David: they
first wished proudly to dismiss
the beggar, because the eminence
of Jesus appeared to them to
require that course; but as soon
as He declared Himself in his
behalf, they were even courteous
to him, and now they say, ‘Be
comforted, rise; He calleth
thee.’ Still it was truly the
genuine disciples of the Lord
who in the best sense encouraged
the blind man in such a manner
to come forward. Then he threw
away his beggar’s cloak, arose,
and came forward to Jesus, as if
in the marvellous light of the
promise of Jesus he had been at
once made to see clearly. ‘What
wilt thou that I should do unto
thee?’ asked the great King of
the poor beggar; and he
answered, ‘Lord, that I may be
made to see;’ and he received
the miraculous help, with the
word, ‘Receive thy sight; thy
faith hath saved thee.’ Then he
looked up, and saw. He looked
upon a wonderful world, a
picture of heaven upon earth, on
the Lord surrounded by the great
festal company. And now his
heart burst forth in praise and
thanksgiving; and at once he
joined the procession, in which
he believed that he saw with his
eyes the special resting-place
of his faith.
The other healing of the blind,
which, according to Matthew,
occurred nearly about the same
time, seems to have been
performed in another form,
namely, by laying of the hand on
the eyes of the sick man. By the
combination of the narratives,
this form was then referred to
both cures.
The procession of festal
pilgrims now moved towards the
rocky desert of Judæa, which
separates Jericho from
Jerusalem-that desert in which,
according to the narrative of
the Lord, the traveller who came
from Jerusalem fell among the
thieves, and was delivered by
the merciful Samaritan.18
Probably this desert was
traversed on this day. But as
the solitude begins gradually to
decrease, about two leagues
distant from Bethany,19 it may be
supposed that the procession
only reached Bethany. Here,
probably, Christ separated for a
while from the company, which
would encamp in the neighbourhood of the Mount of
Olives, to turn in to the house
of his friends at Bethany.
───♦───
Notes
1. Neander also supposes that
Jesus went out from Ephraim to
meet the Galilean caravan
towards Jericho.
2. On the various explanations
of the differences in the
Synoptic Gospels in respect of
the healing of the blind man at
Jericho, compare Strauss, ii.
55. [Upwards of twelve
explanations are given in
Andrews, Life of our Lord, p.
341. But between the opinion of
Augustine, that there were three
men, and that of Alford, that
there was a discrepancy in the
sources from which the
Evangelists drew their
narratives, there is no
logically unassailable position.
The difficulties against
supposing three men are most
unduly magnified by Trench, p.
429. Is it so unusual a thing
for blind beggars to use the
same words? or is it very
improbable that the man of whom
Luke speaks should have told the
others how he had been healed,
and that they should conceive it
safe to use the same words as he
had done. That Jesus should in
both cases have stood still, and
demanded what they wanted, is so
far from being ‘unnatural and
improbable,’ that it is
impossible to conceive how else
he could have acted in the
circumstances. If there was not
one man healed at the entrance
to Jericho, and two healed at
the departure from it, then one
or other of the Evangelists is
in error; and his statement must
be not only supplemented, but
corrected, by the statements of
the others. The refutation which
Trench very fairly gives of Grotius’ view applies with equal
justice to his own.—Ed.]
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1) Luke ix. 45. See above, II. v. 13 2) Jer. xlix. 12. 3) Luke xii. 50 4) (Οί δοκοῦντες ἄρχειν.) In this expression we may observe an allusion to the symbolic meaning in the earthly power of princes, and translate: The princes in the world of appearances ; or, The phenomenal-world-princes. 5) Κατακυριευούσι. 6) Κατεξουσιάζουσι. 7) The intention of Jesus, that in this respect it should not be in His Church as it is in the visible world, where the government of dignity and power is more or less only symbolical, is expressed in the fact that every hierarchy is allied with despotism, every despotism with the hierarchy. 8) Gospel History, p. 364 9) The supposition of Neander, that Luke has rightly stated the time of the miracle, and Mark wrongly, is rendered very unlikely by the circumstance, that in this case Matthew is on the side of Mark. 10) Compare what is said above on the healing of the Gadarene demoniacs. 11) Sepp, iii. 160. 12) ['Jericho, where is the garden of Abraham, is ten leagues from Jerusalem, in a land covered with trees, and producing all kinds of palms and other fruits. There is the well of the prophet Elisha, the water of which was most bitter to drink, and productive of sterility, until he blessed it and threw salt into it, when it became sweet. This place is surrounded on every side by a beautiful plain.' Sæwulf's Travels, p. 45. [Bohn.] 'The "rose of Jericho" is not a rose, and does not grow near Jericho. Kitto, Land of Promise, p. 37, where an interesting description of the fertility of the plain is given.—ED.] 13) Schleiermacher, in his work über den Lukas (p. 237), and Hug in his Gutachten, &c. (ii. 91), suppose that Jesus passed the night in Jericho at the house of Zaccheus. But this supposition is not altogether justified by the expressions, δεῖ με μεῖναι and εἰσῆλθε κατᾷλῦσαι; whilst the εἰσελθών διήρχετο leaves us to infer a passing through. Moreover, in such a case we must well consider that, according to John xii. 12, Jesus made His triumphal entry into Jerusalem not from Jericho, but from Bethany. But we can hardly suppose that before His public entry into Jerusalem, He had already entered privately. After His departure from Jericho, too, He can at the most have reached Bethany on the same day. But the procession might travel over this distance, even although it did not actually journey from Jericho through the mountain wilderness in the early morning. 14) Rauschenbusch, das Leben Jesu, p. 286. 15) On this designation see Stier, iv. 314. [Also Jahn's Biblical Antiq., sec. 242 ; and Smith's Diet, of Antiq., art. Publicaui.] 16) The highest restitution which the lawgiver appointed for stolen property (Exod. xxiii. 37 (?) ). Whoever acknowledged his own sin, paid only the sum stolen, and a fifth part (Num. v. 6). De Wette, Lukas, p. 96. Compare Exod. xxii. 1, et seq. 17) See above; compare Strauss, Leben Jcsu, i. 636. 18) Read the lively picture of this desert in Von Schubert's Reise in das Morgenland, iii. 72 19) Von Schubert, iii. 71.
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