IN this study we have the third illustration in the second group showing the power of the King. It is that of the forgiveness of sins and the healing of the sick of the palsy. This is followed by the account of the call of Matthew; which is thus set in relation to the healing of the palsy and the forgiveness of sins, in a very striking manner. That in turn is followed by a record of criticism and inquiry. Let us mark the lines of analysis before we give more detailed attention to the teaching.

In the first eight verses we have the story of Christ's crossing over into His own city, and His pronouncing forgiveness upon the man and healing him.

Then in verse nine we have the story of the calling of Matthew; all told in the compass of one verse, and yet thrilling with suggestiveness.

Immediately following, in verses ten to thirteen, we have the first criticism. "Why eateth your Teacher with the publicans and sinners?"

Then in verses fourteen to seventeen we have the inquiry, "Why do we and the Pharisees fast oft, but Thy disciples fast not?" This, then, is the outline of our study.

We commence with the incident of healing, and notice first some of its points of beauty.

"When He saw their faith." That is the statement which first arrests attention on reading the story. Details are not given here, beyond that of the faith with which these men came. One of the other evangelists tells us that they broke up the roof, and let the sick man down into the midst. The fact here standing out is, that "He saw their faith." There has been a good deal of speculation as to whose faith is referred to, but of one thing we may be perfectly sure, it was not only the faith of the men who brought him. "Their faith" demands some other interpretation; it demands the faith of the man, as well as the faith of the men who brought him, because Christ said to him, "Thy sins are forgiven." It would appear that our Lord saw that in his heart there was a desire for something deeper than physical healing; and that he was conscious that physical disability was the result of his own sin; and therefore with a great tenderness, in words thrilling with the music of the evangel He had come to create, He said to him, in effect: Be of good cheer-I am able to deal with the deepest matter; thy sins are forgiven. That word was a response to faith.

And yet, while we believe there was faith in the heart of the man himself, we must not miss the important fact here that there is such a thing as vicarious faith. It is possible to help a man's faith. "Jesus seeing their faith."

Then notice that when they brought him, instead of first dealing with his disability, Jesus at once said to him, "Be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven." In a moment the suspicion of the crowd was evident, and their criticism was aroused, because He pronounced forgiveness with authority. The men who had been watching with curiosity became angry, and charged Him with blasphemy. It was then that the King for the first time in His process of revelation, defended an action. He looked at these men criticizing, and said to them, "Which is easier, to say, Thy sins are forgiven; or to say, Arise, and walk? But that ye may know that the Son of Man hath authority on earth to forgive sins" (He turned to the man), "Arise, and take up thy bed, and go unto thy house." And he arose and left. Then there came upon the people a great sense of fear, and they marvelled. The fear was due to the fact that there was demonstrated to their consciousness the fact that somehow, in that Man, or through that Man, God was very near. They had heard the great word of forgiveness, the word for which the heart of an honest man hungers, more than any other. They had heard this Man say, "Thy sins are forgiven," and they did not believe it; they questioned it; they thought He was blasphemous; they felt that He was saying something easy, a word that was not capable of demonstration, and which therefore they did not accept as truth. And instantly, with a great tenderness, rot because the Lord was anxious for His own defence, but that they might believe, He challenged the man to rise up and walk. And so in concrete and evident fashion He demonstrated His power.

But there is more than that in the story. Probably to all intelligent men who watched Him that day there was a clear consciousness of the connection between the man's physical disability and his sin; and that instead of touching the surface, Jesus went right to the root of the matter, when He pronounced forgiveness. The demonstration which the King gave these men in very concrete fashion, is the perpetual demonstration of the fact of forgiveness. With the forgiveness of sin, if it be a true experience, there pass away disabilities, which hold men in bondage while sin remains unforgiven.

When Jesus asked these people, "For which is easier to say, Thy sins are forgiven, or to say, Arise, and walk?" He suggested to them the relation between sin and suffering. Again one is driven back to the prophecy of Isaiah. In Mat 8:17 we read, "That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Isaiah the prophet, saying, Himself took our infirmities, and bare our diseases." Thus Matthew claimed that the healing of all those who came to Jesus was in fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy in chapter liii.4 (Isa 53:4): "Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows." Let us continue the reading in Isaiah: "Yet we did esteem Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgression, He was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed." Thus the prophet looking down through the centuries to the perfect Servant of God, the Great Healer, said of Him, first, "He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows." He did not end there; but went on to tell how this One would heal, not in the local cases merely, but in the great issue of all His mission as the Servant of God: "He was wounded for our transgressions." That is to say that by the vicarious suffering of the Servant of God sin would be dealt with. Sin lies at the back of all human disability; and because sin is dealt with all its results can be dealt with. That is the whole mission of the Servant of God. This was so in the case of this man. He had palsy. Sin is the root of palsy. The King pardoned his sin by virtue of the fact that He would presently bear it in His own body on the tree. The Passion was the right and warrant for everything that Jesus did in this realm of healing physical disability. He healed by the mystery of the Cross, by bearing our transgressions and being bruised for our iniquity. In the long outworking of the mission of Jesus, by the way of that Cross, every tear shall be wiped away, all diseases shall be dealt with and cast out, and His ultimate victory in the physical realm, based upon His bearing of sin, the cause of disease, will be the perfect physical salvation of the race that puts its trust in Him. The mission of the Son of Man is that of dealing with sin; and, secondly, that of healing disease; so that here again is manifested the fact that the miracles of Jesus were wrought by the restoration of a lost order, rather than by violation of existing law. Men who had seen Him Master in the realm of the physical; Master of the elements; Master of the surrounding spiritual world; now saw Him King in the moral realm, pronouncing absolution, and giving the evidence of the absolution, in the curing of a physical disability.

Now it is not without suggestiveness that the next thing we read is that Jesus called Matthew. Matthew was a tax-gatherer, and we know how unpopular the Roman tax-gatherer was, and how far more unpopular was the Jew who lent himself to the work of Rome. Matthew was of such, a lower caste of Jew; not necessarily the poor Jew; but the man who. in the opinion of his compatriots, was of blunted moral sense, and of dead national aspiration.

The King saw this man, one of a class supremely despised by the people, and as He passed said to him, "Follow Me," and thus immediately included one outcast of the nation, in the inner circle of His Kingdom. He had claimed the power to forgive sins. Here in the eyes of the people was a sinner above all men, and the King called him, and he followed. The way Matthew himself tells the story is full of beauty: "And as Jesus passed by from thence, He saw a man, called Matthew, sitting at the place of toll; and He saith unto him, Follow Me. And he arose and followed Him." "As Jesus passed by from thence He saw"-What did He see? The man. What did they see? The tax-gatherer. The world sees all sorts of things in us-the accidental things. Christ will not see them, although He sees everything. He sees the man. We may be bruised and broken and scarred, and it may be all our own fault; but in each case He sees the man; and He calls us in the same sweet voice that Matthew heard: "Follow Me."'

Is not this a new exhibition of the King's power and authority in yet another sphere? Here the King is seen exercising His authority, so far as He can exercise it, in the realm of human will, by expressing the demand of a paramount claim, "Follow Me." Perpetually one is being startled at the Master's method. Only once in the four Gospels can we find any occasion when He asked advice. He once asked Philip what they were to do to feed the crowd. But notice the parenthesis. "This He said to prove him, for He Himself knew what He would do." He always knew what He would do; and He came to this man, sitting there in the midst of custom and toll, and He said to him, "Follow Me." There was no argument, no apology. He did not even suggest to him that it might be well if he first considered His claims. It was a quiet, strong, musical, mystical demand; and everything for that man, depended upon his answer.

But if there is here a note of great authority, mark its limitation. Yes, the King is limited. "Follow Me," He said; but the "I will" of the man was needed to complete the relationship. One stands appalled with the tremendous fact that a man can say, No. These chapters reveal it. He went to the country of the Gadarenes, and they said, Leave us, and He left them. The King is limited by human will. But thank God for the issue of this story, for we want to live in the light of it. "He arose and followed Him." So the despised tax-gatherer became the royal chronicler, and has given us this great Gospel of the Kingdom.

Now let us turn to the paragraph of criticism and inquiry.

The first criticism circles round the question of the Pharisees: "Why eateth your Teacher with the publicans and sinners?" The occasion of the criticism was the action of Jesus in sitting familiarly and eating with, publicans and sinners. It was in Matthew's house that He thus sat down; and the occasion was a special one. The first thing Matthew did was to make a great feast for Jesus and invite to it all the publicans and sinners of his acquaintance. That is the way to entertain Jesus. It is very beautiful. Everybody else despised the publican and the sinner. Matthew gathered them together, the people of his own despised class, and Jesus sat down-"reclined" is the word-with them. Now the Pharisees came and said to the disciples, "Why eateth your Teacher with the publicans and sinners?" We have referred to their philosophy on a previous occasion. They objected because they believed if a man sat down among publicans and sinners to eat, he would be contaminated. What they failed to appreciate was the difference between this Man and themselves. His answer was again a vindication of His action: "They that are whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick. But go ye"-ye Pharisees, ye men of the false philosophy, ye men that do not know God-"Go ye and learn what this meaneth; I desire mercy, and not sacrifice; for I came not to call the righteous, but sinners." It is as though Jesus said: Why do you criticize me? I am a physician, and therefore I must be where the people are who need Me. They that are whole do not need a physician, but they that are sick.

We notice here particularly how the physical and the moral necessarily merge in the thinking of Jesus. He used the figure of the physician, in connection with His presence in the midst of the moral depravity of which the Pharisees were so afraid. The very thing that kept the others away drew Him irresistibly.

There is yet a deeper note: "Go ye and learn what this means: I desire mercy, and not sacrifice." This He quoted from one of their own prophets (Hos 6:6). We ought to read the whole prophecy to catch the meaning of it. The prophecy of Hosea deals with spiritual adultery, spiritual harlotry. The great agonizing emphasis of the prophetic message is that God is wounded in His love, because of the infidelity of His people to the Covenant. And this is the cry of God, "O Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee?" Then he tells these people that their goodness is as the morning cloud, it vanishes and is gone. You bring Me sacrifices as though I wanted them. Ephraim, Judah, it is not sacrifice that I want from you; it is mercy toward you that I want; and I would fain find a way unto you in love and mercy.

Jesus looked at these men who thought they knew the law and the prophets, and said to them: You do not understand the God Who is revealed in your own writings. He was talking to the teachers, to the men who were interpreting the prophets, and He said, " Go ye and learn what this meaneth, I desire mercy, and not sacrifice." Go and learn what the heart of God is; go and find out, that according to your own writings, God is far more anxious to have mercy than He is to receive any offering that a man brings to Him. When you have learnt this, then you will understand why I sit down with publicans and sinners, why I recline and eat in the midst of them.

After the criticism of the Pharisees came the inquiry of the disciples of John. "Why do we and the Pharisees fast oft, and Thy disciples fast not?" Sometimes this has been treated as though it were a question inspired by the Pharisees, and part of the criticism. But I am inclined to think that this was not so, but that it was a perfectly honest inquiry.

There are really two questions here: "Why do we and the Pharisees fast?" and "Why do Thy disciples fast not?" These men came to Christ; and they said in effect: The religious ideal which we have believed to be true, and which the Pharisees have evidently believed to be true, seems to be utterly different from the religious ideal of Thy disciples; we fast, we mourn, but these men that Thou hast gathered about Thee seem to be pre-eminently happy; they make no place for fasting and mourning.

Christ's answer gives colour to that explanation of the inquiry. He said, "Can the sons of the bride-chamber mourn, as long as the Bridegroom is with them?" Christ defended that which puzzled them, by taking a figure that was more full of rejoicing than anything else could be. A wedding ceremony in an Eastern country lasted for seven days. It was a week of unbounded and unceasing rejoicing, of songs and music and mirth. And Jesus, said, These men are the sons of the bride-chamber, and you must not expect them to fast while the Bridegroom is with them, but, "the days will come, when the Bridegroom shall be taken away from them, and then will they fast."

This is Christ's defence of the right of His people to be merry; and that right to be merry is the fact that He is with them. If that be true, then we have the right to be merry always. What He said about sorrow was fulfilled. He was taken away from them, and they fasted and were sad through those days of darkness; but He came back, and, standing on the slope of Olivet, He said, "Lo, I am with you alway." Then there is no more room for mourning; no more room for the sad face of agony; but there is room for mirth, room for joy, and room for gladness.

Then the Lord uttered the final word of illustration in this connection. You cannot put a piece of undressed cloth upon an old garment. It will pull and tear the old garment to destruction. You must not put new wine into old Wine-skins; the old are not strong enough to hold it; it will break them and the wine be wasted. Thus the King said in effect to these questioning men, Do not attempt to measure this new thing by that old thing. The old was right as long as it lasted; but this is new. There are new motives, new forces, new impulses coming into play; and you must not try to place the new within the narrow limits of the old. It is Christ's clear declaration that the new covenant which He had come to initiate, demanded new methods of expression; the purple of royalty, instead of the sackcloth of sorrow; the laughter of triumph, instead of the weeping of defeat; Easter morning instead of the day of Crucifixion.

Yet we can never get to the purple, but by the way of the sackcloth; never triumph save through defeat; never reach Easter morning, but by the way of Good Friday.

The whole genius of Christianity is in this. He went by the way of Good Friday, and He gives us Easter for ever. He wore the sackcloth, and turned it into purple for us. He trod the winepress alone, and we have the cup filled with the new wine of the Kingdom.

There is in this study a great sequence of revelation. Sin is forgiven; a despised man is included in the inner circle; God's heart is revealed, "I will have mercy;" God's answer is affirmed in those figures of the new forces.

What, then, shall we say? Let us trust His heart, let us trust His power, by leaving all and following Him, knowing that in Him we shall find all we need.

THIS is the last paragraph in that section of the Gospel which deals with the King's exhibition of the benefits of His Kingdom. Of course, that is not to say that there was no further manifestation of His power, for He continued to work wonders to the very end.

This account is full of life, full of light, full of love, full of colour. Here the King is seen dealing with specific cases as they made application to Him. All sorts and conditions of men mixed together in the multitudes that surrounded Him at this time-publicans and sinners, Scribes and Pharisees, beggars by the highway, wealthy men who watched and listened with great interest, country people who had crowded into the cities, learned people who were deeply interested in His teaching. And yet the people He brought into prominence, upon whom men have continued to look through the long centuries, were all of one class-they were needy people. In those days in which He passed from teaching to doing, He drew to Himself the people who were in trouble, in need, in difficulty.

Of those we are now to observe, some were wealthy and some were poor. Here a wealthy ruler, and there a woman beggared by her illness; and yet again two men who were begging by the highway-side, but who turned to Him because of a great sense of need, and finally a man demon-possessed. Such power was resident in Him that weakness felt its attraction, and out from the great curious, jostling, crowding multitudes, individuals conscious of their need came near to Him. As we look back at the pictures of this chapter we see the crowd generally and indefinitely; but the needy souls particularly and definitely. The King rendered need conspicuous, that He might meet it and cancel it. The cases are drawn out of the crowd one by one, brought into living contact with Christ, and dealt with ; and as we look at them, the impression made upon our minds, carrying complete conviction, is that our King is not a Teacher only, but a Worker also; that He does something more than propound a theory, He is ever communicating strength; that He not only holds up before men a great ideal, as He did in the Manifesto, but that He ever touches men in their paralysis, and makes them powerful in the very places of their need with perfect sufficiency.

Let us first survey the cases, noticing their diversity. How different are the people with whom Christ deals in this section! Matthew tells these stories very briefly. In Mark and Luke the details stand out far more conspicuously, but Matthew chronicled the facts simply, in order to reveal the power of the King. In the other Gospels other aspects of the work of Christ are revealed-His perfect service, and His perfect Manhood with its human sympathy; and it may help us to borrow from Mark and Luke in order that we may see more clearly the need that came to the King.

The first picture is that of a father, whose life was shadowed because at home his little daughter, twelve years of age, lay sick. Twelve years of sunshine were threatened with eclipse; twelve years of playfulness were merging towards a tragedy in the heart and life of Jairus. This man came to Jesus, driven towards Him by his sense of awful sorrow. Matthew says, "Behold, there came a ruler, and worshipped Him, saying, My daughter is even now dead,

The next picture is that of the woman overwhelmed in weakness and sorrow. Again Matthew tells us very little about her, but quite enough for us to understand her condition. He says, "A woman, who had an issue of blood twelve years, came behind Him." That descriptive phrase must be considered in the light of the age in which she lived, and not in the light of our age. First, by reason of her trouble, she was excommunicated religiously. The Hebrew economy did not permit a woman so suffering to take any part or place in the worship of God. She was shut out from temple and synagogue worship. She was divorced from her husband by the same law. She was ostracized from society. We are not dealing with that law, certainly we have no right to criticize it; but we thank God that it has passed away for ever, and that the spirit of the age is one which desires to take care of the helpless and suffering. This woman had been spending her money perpetually for twelve years to find a remedy; and, as Luke says, could not be cured of any, or, as Mark says, was nothing bettered but rather the worse. Twelve years. Jairus's little girl twelve years of age; this woman, twelve years of suffering. Twelve years of sunshine, twelve years of shadow. A little child full of laughter going out towards death; and a woman who had been in the midst of a living death for twelve years; and they both came into contact with Him.

Then two blind men. They heard, but could not see; they felt, but could not perceive. Two blind men, but they fought their way to Him.

And finally a demon-possessed man, whom the demon held in the thrall of dumbness; for there was a close connection between the dumbness of the man and his possession.

The sorrowing father, a wealthy man, a man of position, but his life overshadowed because his bairn was dying; he came to Jesus. The woman who had lost everything that was worth having, religious privilege, family care, social position, all her wealth; she came to Jesus. Two blind men who, perhaps, as one of the commentators says, did often talk about what other men saw, and perchance did often talk about the Healer Whose fame had gone through all the district, unable to see His face, unable to see their own, unable to see the faces of their loved ones; they found their way to Him. The demon-possessed man, who could not find his way to Jesus, was brought by others. All kinds of need. Thus the King passed into the midst of the multitudes, and He drew to Himself, into the closest circle, the most needy people from among the crowds. And so it is to-day. It is the broken heart, the bereft, the discouraged, the unfit, that He will bring nearer to Himself than any others.

Now notice the method of their coming. Jairus came for his child, and he came asking that Jesus would come and lay His hand upon her. He said, "She is even now dead"-there is practically no hope; indeed, there is no hope apart from God, for that is the meaning of the confession-"but come and lay Thy hand upon her, and she shall live." He asked for the touch of the hand of Christ. That was one method.

The woman came quite differently. While Jairus came and publicly proffered his request, this woman tried to get to Him without anybody knowing. She did not ask Him to touch her; she touched Him. It was quite a different method.

Then came the blind men, crying out-they were clamorous, noisy men-"Have mercy on us, Thou Son of David." In the other evangels we are told that the crowd tried to silence them, and they cried out the more, "Jesus, Thou Son of David, have mercy." They were not only clamorous, they were persistent. They got right into the house where Jesus had gone. It was the method of men determined to get to Him, persisting in spite of opposition.

And then the last case. This man did not come to Him at all; other people brought him; he was too far gone to come. Reason was dethroned. The other people brought him, and there is no word in the story about his faith. There is no single word that indicates that he had anything to do with his own coming. He was past the possibility of realizing his need, so that there was not only diversity of need, there was diversity also in the method of approach.

And yet there is a great unity in these illustrations. They all approached Him. They all appealed to Him for force. They all appealed to Him for exactly what they needed. Jairus came to Him with quiet dignity, surcharged with the sorrow of his heart; but he came to Him for just what he needed. The woman came to Him secretly, pressing her way through the crowd, not a surging crowd only, but a moving crowd on the way to Jairus's house. Perhaps a little way in front of all the rest was Jairus himself, for if he could have hurried Christ that day he would. And then next to Jesus and round about Him were the apostles, the most dignified men in the whole company. Through that crowd of jostling and pressing strong men, with perchance here and there a mother, lifting up her little child to look into the face of the great Prophet as He paused, one woman, weak and wan and emaciated and thin, pressed near to Him. In that woman's coming one sees the most wonderful combination of weakness and strength. She forced her way through that crowd until she touched Jesus. It was quite different from Jairus's coming, but it was a coming for what she needed, the claim for power. The blind men came to Him for the same thing, and the dumb demoniac, brought to Him by others, came for the same thing.

What was the issue in every case? The need was met; death vanquished, disease cured, sight granted, and, in the case of the man possessed, freedom from the demon, followed by speech.

"Behold your King" is the word of Matthew from first to last. He vanquishes death for the broken heart of a father; He deals with all the necessity of the excommunicated, divorced, ostracized woman; He opens the eyes of the blind; He looses the silence of the tongue of the dumb as He exorcises the demon that has seized him.

Let us now look at the King more closely. Notice first of all His readiness. When Jairus came it is written, He "arose and followed." He needed no pressure save that of the man's broken heart. That is an argument He never can refuse.

When the woman touched Him she was healed before He spoke, when she grasped the border of His garment. Perhaps it was the fringe of the garment on which she took hold; that in which the Hebrews were commanded to wear a ribbon of blue that they might look upon it, and remember the words of the law to do them. While Jesus Christ was supremely disdainful of all merely Hebrew ritual, He observed the law of Moses to its last tittle. So, probably, He wore the ribbon of blue, and the woman grasped at it with her frail hand. He knew it, and swifter than the lightning's flash, quick as the heartbeat of God, His virtue healed her. There was no persuasion necessary beyond the persuasion of her agony; and the moment she took hold, healing came.

Then the blind men. You may say there is a good deal of persuasion necessary here. No; it is simply that wonderful method by which Jesus Christ did sometimes proceed, of letting people pour out their whole heart, and show their earnestness, before He answered. When they had persistently clamoured for His help, following Him into the house, sight came.

In the healing of the dumb demoniac, which is almost brutal in its bluntness as Matthew tells the story, there is never a word of request, to say nothing of appreciation. "There was brought to Him a dumb man possessed with a demon. And when the demon was cast out, the dumb man spake." That is all. It was the movement of a great readiness. So through all we see the King ready.

But look at the King again, and mark His method. How the method varies! It is a great picture, this of Jesus coming to the house of Jairus. We need the three Gospel stories to see it, it is so exquisite in its beauty. He came in where the child was lying dead, and He said, "She is not dead, but sleepeth." And they laughed Him to scorn. What did He do? He put them all out. Do not imagine that this King is only capable of tenderness; He can do very drastic things. He was justified in His action. When He came in they were wailing; before He had been there two minutes they were laughing; but there are some people who must be put out before Jesus can do anything. "He could there do no mighty work . . . because of their unbelief." A critical, scorning, scoffing crowd must be put out before He can do anything. He Himself was affected by it. Criticism was sterilizing in its effect upon Him. Faith was fertilizing. Then there is a beautiful touch of tenderness in the Master's method with the maiden. Remember He was also healing the man's heart. He put His hand on the child and said, "Talitha cumi; which is, being interpreted, Damsel, I say unto thee, Arise." Yet that does not interpret it, it hardly translates it. If you translate "Talitha cumi" literally, Jesus really said, Little lamb, I say unto thee, Arise. Oh that sweet touch, that tenderness of tone! Then "He charged them much, that no man should know this; and He commanded that something should be given her to eat." Observe the sweet reasonableness of the Lord! He ordered them to give her, not the catechism, but meat-physical food. Jairus, here is your bairn. Take care of her, give her meat. We talk about the Man Jesus, and blessed be His humanity; but this is God, and He robs death of its prey, and thinks about the meal of a little maiden; and springtime comes into the heart of the man, and summer follows it, and all life is different to him.

But on His way to the house of Jairus, in dealing with the woman, the King's method was quite a different one. First, a question was asked, not because He wanted to know, but because it was necessary that this woman should go a good deal further than she had done. "Who touched Me?" said Jesus. You need not be angry with the question the disciples asked, "Thou seest the multitude thronging Thee, and sayest Thou, Who touched Me?" That is precisely what we should have said. Tenderly and reverently, with a touch of amazement in our voice, we would have said, Dear Master, why do you ask that? Many have touched You in the last half-hour. He always knows the difference between the jostle of a curious mob and the touch of a soul in its agony. The soul that touches Him is the soul that will gain the virtue. "Who touched ME?" He differentiates between the curious crowd and the soul in its need. But follow on a little, and see His method, for He has not finished. The woman seeing that everything was known, came in front of Him and told Him all the truth. Then Matthew tells us the most beautiful thing. The King said, "Daughter." We cannot say these things as they ought to be said. Oh for the breath of the Spirit of God to make the music for us! All that came after, "Be of good cheer; thy faith hath made thee whole," was included when He said, "Daughter" She is excommunicated; "Daughter" she is adopted. She is divorced; "Daughter" He takes her to His heart. She is ostracized; "Daughter" and He admits her to heaven's society. In one word He drove the clouds away and showed her the blue sky, with the golden sunshine all about her. By one word the shackles of her pain and impotence fell from her, and she stood in all the light and liberty of conscious relationship with God. But before He could say "Daughter," He had to bring her from secret discipleship into the place of confessed discipleship. She took hold of the border of His garment, and the power came. Then He said in effect, I want you to have more than that. I do not want you to be satisfied with virtue communicated through My garments. Come, and look into My face. He looked down into her face. Behold those eyes! Oh the light and glory of them-the quiet tenderness, the surpassing beauty of them!

Then came the blind men. Here was another method. "Believe ye that I am able to do this?" "Yea, Lord." Then His hands were put upon their eyes. Have you ever thought it would have been worth while to be blind for fifty years to feel those hands touch the eyes, and know the breaking of the light?

In healing the dumb man we have no account of His method; we simply see His quiet majesty. All need appealed to His force. He appealed in every case to faith; and where faith responded, either personally or vicariously-His power was made manifest over death, disease, blindness, demons-power that defies explanation, but arrests because of its abundance.

The thing which is supremely impressive is the ease of His might There is no struggle, no long mysterious preparation. The need comes; He speaks, He touches; the need is met. And all these are little things that He did not account worth talking about. He said to the men about Him, Do not go and talk about these things; do not go and publish this abroad. This is not the thing I want you to see: "Believe Me that I am in the Father, and the Father in Me; or else believe Me for the very works' sake."

The spiritual miracles, the moral remakings, are going on all around us to-day. God help us all to see the King, to touch the King as He passes. The arm of flesh need not be lifted; the sigh of faith is enough. Make it thine by submission, and all the glory of His reign will shine upon you, and the supernatural power resident within Him will be yours.

Oh matchless" King 1 In this exhibition of benefits we have seen the supremacy and the power of the King in every realm. He has demonstrated His power to do as well as to teach. Do not be afraid to let Him tear away the veil behind which thou hast hidden some evil thing in thy life. Let Him reveal it, for He will heal it. This is the method and purpose of the King.

The final word in this section reveals the antagonism of His foe and ours. It expressed itself through the religious leaders of the time. "By the prince of the demons casteth He out demons." A King so marvellous in teaching and power, yet to the prejudiced mind bringing no conviction; and there were men who dared to say that He moved to victory in the power of evil. Let us jealously inquire in what attitude we listen and study, for it is possible for prejudice and pride to blind us to the most solemn and sacred truths. May God grant that instead of the blasphemy which attributes His victories to evil, we may be among the number of those who say, This is our King; we have waited for Him; upon His brow we put the crown, and by God's help we will serve Him.

IN reading this passage we notice that it chronicles no definite acts in the work of Jesus. The verses form rather a statement of general facts and general effects. This statement deals with the passing of the King from place to place; with what He saw as He thus passed through cities and villages; with what He felt in the presence of the things He saw; and with the result of that consciousness.

The general statement is that "Jesus went about all the cities and the villages," and, by way of introduction, the one matter to be recognized is that, in so doing, He came into contact with all sorts and conditions of people. The problem of the city, and the problem of the village existed in those days as it does to-day. Jesus went to cities and villages; to the people who lived in crowds, and at the heart of the movements of the day; and to the people far away in the hamlets on the hillside, and in the valley, whose little world was the vineyard and the cornfield. As He went He had a threefold method: that of teaching, preaching, and healing. Thus He prosecuted His Kingly work.

His teaching of the people consisted of interpretations of their own Scriptures and economy. That was the first method of the King; emphasizing the truth taught by immediate application. We have no detailed account of this teaching of the general multitudes, but occasional illustrations by the record of what happened at some particular place. Once we are told He went, as His custom was, to the Synagogue, and, finding the book of the Prophet, He read old and perfectly familiar words, giving them new life and meaning, teaching their deepest intention.

His preaching consisted of the proclamation of the good news of the Kingdom of God; or, to put that into other words, the good tidings of His own work in establishing that Kingdom. He was preaching that prophetically only. He waited for the Cross ere that great evangel could be sent forth in all its fullness; but He went through the cities and the villages preaching the Kingdom of God; saying to men, God is on the Throne; affirming the fact of the Kingship of God.

The ministry of healing was the manifestation of His power to work as well as to preach; and such manifestation was, moreover, a revelation of the order of the Divine government. God is King, and everything that limits the sphere of His control must be subdued to His purpose; and, therefore, He healed disease. We have already seen that the miracles of Jesus were not interferences with law, but restorations of law; and that disease is lawlessness. Therefore to heal is not to interfere with law, but to restore the operation of law. In all the miracles of Jesus, miracles of physical healing, there was a symbolic value, and a spiritual intention. Whenever Jesus healed a sick person, He said in effect to that person, All suffering results from failure to yield to the control of our Father; all these limitations of life, and this destruction of life, result from rebellion against the Kingship of God. Thus, doing this threefold work, He went about all the cities, and all the villages.

But now the time had come in the mission of the King, when it was necessary to appoint fellow-labourers, labourers together with Himself. This passage reveals the reason for such appointment. The work was one in which He needed helpers of a very definite type labourers; and the need for the work was created by compassion in the heart of Jesus, which is the deepest thing in the heart of God; and it is that which this passage reveals to us.

Let us state that again in other words. The time had come in the work of Jesus when He was constrained to appoint other labourers who should help Him. Humanly speaking, He could not overtake His work. He had been preaching, teaching, healing; but there were so many places He could not reach in His human and localized and straitened circumstances; and He must have men to help Him, for the work must be done. Must, because Jesus saw the multitudes distressed, scattered as sheep without a shepherd.

O Man of Nazareth, majestic, with eyes all love-lit; strange King of men, enunciating such an ethic that one's soul has been ashamed in its flaming glory, what matter about these people, why not leave them alone? Why must they be cared for? And the answer is, "He was moved with compassion." The necessity for the salvation of men is revealed in that statement. There is no reason in man that God should save; the need is born of His own compassion. No man has any claim upon God. Why, then, should men be cared for? Why should they not become the prey of the ravening wolf, having wandered from the fold? It has been said that the great work of redemption was the outcome of a passion for the righteousness and holiness of God; that Jesus must come and teach and live and suffer and die because God is righteous and holy. I do not so read the story. God could have met every demand of His righteousness and holiness by handing men over to the doom they had brought upon themselves. But deepest in the being of God, holding in its great energizing might, both holiness and righteousness, is love and compassion. God said, according to Hosea, "How shall I give thee up, Ephraim?" It is out of the love which inspired that wail of the Divine heart, that salvation has been provided, and our evangel has come.

"He was moved with compassion." That is just a simple lattice-window made up of crossing human words. Look through it, and you will see the flaming glory of the infinite love of the infinite God. You will see the birthplace of everything that makes for the uplifting of man.

The thoughts of paramount importance in this passage are such as are suggested by two pronouns. "He" and "they." "He jaw, and was moved with compassion." "They were distressed and scattered, as sheep having no shepherd."

Let us look, then, first at the King as here revealed; secondly, at the Kingdom as He saw it waiting to be redeemed and realized; and, finally, at His purpose and His method.

The King of Whom we have already said so much, was moved with compassion. The word compassion has come into our language from the Latin. It is, no doubt, the correct word at this point, spiritually; and yet the Greek word here translated compassion is a very remarkable one. It is a word of the kind which is largely passing out of use to-day, and the passing would not appear to be a loss, but rather a gain. The Greek word is one of those in which emotion is suggested by a physical figure. Very literally the declaration is that "His bowels were moved within Him." By the Greek, the bowels were regarded as the seat of violent passion, such as anger or love. By the Hebrew, they were regarded as the seat of the tender affections. Isaac Watts sang a hymn bearing on this verse, which we have changed in most of our hymn-books, and yet he was but translating from his Greek Testament,

If Isaac Watts is a little out of date, he is quite accurate. He translated literally, definitely, and positively, from this very word here rendered compassion. Then knowing that the translation was insufficient, Isaac Watts moved on, and took another word:

Thus on the human level, this picture of God is that of a Man Who went into the cities, and into the villages, and looked at the people; and what He saw made His whole inner physical life, as the sacramental symbol of the spiritual, move and burn. We all know some little of this; how in certain circumstances, in some great overwhelming fear, in some sudden sorrow, our very physical life, acting in harmony with the mental, is filled with pain. "He was moved with compassion." He was moved to the agony of the physical by the pain of the spiritual.

But that was only sacramental and symbolic. What lay behind it all? Let us go back to our translation-"He was moved with compassion." What is compassion? Feeling with, pain with, comradeship in sorrow, fellowship in agony; an at-one-ment between this King and those upon whom He looked, culminating in the Cross as to outward expression. It existed in the heart of God long before the material Cross was uplifted; and it expressed itself in the suffering of the Son of .God through all the years of His sympathy with man before He went to that actual Cross. He could not see a woman who had suffered twelve years of pain but that He felt her feebleness. He came so intimately into comradeship and sympathy with human life that its pain was His pain. Do not ever think of this word compassion as though it meant pity merely. You can pity people and see them die in misery; but He bare with them; He identified Himself with the very issue of their pain ; the very issue of their sin. That is compassion.

Then look at the King again. He wanted to shepherd these distressed ones. That was His main desire. "They were distressed and scattered as sheep not having a shepherd," and He wanted to shepherd them. Perhaps we cannot quite understand this desire; yet every mother appreciates it in some measure; the mothers who, seeing the neglected children of the slum, yearn to mother them all, understand. That is God's heart. That is how Jesus felt. He wanted to shepherd these people, He wanted to take care of them. He wanted to fold them; He wanted to feed them.

These are the two functions of the King. The real King is always folding and feeding the sheep. In spiritual things the one who folds the sheep is the priest, and the one who feeds the sheep is the prophet. So that in true Kingship there are included the functions of the priest and the prophet; and these were the passions stirred in the heart of Jesus by His vision of the multitudes.

But let us turn our eyes from this wonderful King, moved with compassion, a shepherd by nature, desiring the folding and feeding of all sheep, and look at the Kingdom as He saw it. The people at whom He had been looking were not all of one class. It cannot too often be stated that His view was of Humanity, Jesus did not pay special attention to the rulers, neither did He pay special attention to the people of the submerged classes as they came to Him, and appealed to Him. He saw all sorts and conditions of people. He saw the multitudes as sheep, not as goats and sheep. The Scriptures never speak of men as goats except once, and it is a very great question as to whether it is not wrong to look upon that as a picture of the judgment of individuals. It is the picture of a national judgment, and the figure applies not to men, but to nations. Jesus saw men as sheep out in the highways. Every man is in God's image. Every human being has, if we can but see it, the hall-mark of the likeness of God, and He saw in the multitudes their natural possibility of realizing a Divine purpose. If a man is lost, if a child shall so wander from the pathway as eventually to be lost, it will be by not realizing the possibility of their own lives, and so being lost by degeneration and degradation. He saw the multitudes as sheep.

Yes, but He clearly saw their actual condition. Here again the Greek words are graphic words. They were distressed, fleeced, lacerated by the fleecing, scattered, flung, tossed by violence. In these words we have the picture of sheep departed from the fold, into the midst of wolves; they are seen with their fleece torn, half-dead, bleeding from wounds, and fainting. This is how He saw men and women, because they had no shepherd. That is a dread and awe-inspiring passage in Ezekiel about shepherds who fed themselves instead of the sheep, shepherds who came with no healing to the wounded sheep, shepherds who never went to seek lost sheep. That is Ezekiel's picture. That is how the King saw the people; and He had come to do what the shepherds had failed to do. He had come to fold and feed them. He had come to heal them. He had come to seek and save that which was lost. He was the "Good Shepherd," and "The Good Shepherd layeth down His life for the sheep."

Finally, let us notice His purpose and His method. His purpose is to be the Shepherd, to fold the sheep and to feed the sheep. In order to fold the sheep He must come into conflict with the foe, and He accomplished His victory by the purity of His life, and by the infinite passion of His dying. He had also come to feed the sheep, that is to give sustenance to their neglected life.

Now the moment had come when the King, Who is the Shepherd, was about to gather a few more around Himself; when He would avail Himself of the help of others. What did He do with them? He first gave them His vision of the multitudes, and then He said, "Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest that He send forth labourers." If we are going to do anything that is worth doing we must see as He sees. Let us say: O Shepherd true, open our eyes that we may see as Thou seest. And if we see as He sees we shall hear Him say to us, "Pray thou the Lord of the harvest to thrust forth labourers into His harvest."

In this brief paragraph Jesus makes use of two figures, and here again, as on other occasions, it looks as though He almost inadvertently confused figures, and mixed metaphors. But He never really did so. First it is the figure of the shepherd and the sheep; and then it is the figure of the harvest and the labourers. But in these two you have the perfect unfolding of two sides of the great question. In the sheep and the shepherd you see man's need met by God. But in the harvest and the labourers you see God's need met by man. Our Gospel is, "Jehovah is my Shepherd." But the Master says to us, If that is the Gospel, and if My compassion has given you the Gospel; now look, the fields are white unto harvest. That is God's harvest. All those sheaves ought to be garnered for Him. They are sheaves of harvest which God would have gathered and garnered, but He needs labourers to gather His white harvest.