II
IN SOLOMON'S PORCH
"Give me new consolation, great and strong, of which I nave never heard or read."—Pliny.
With increasing frequency Christ was now speaking his prophecies of the life immortal. In his earlier ministry he had been dwelling upon the presence of the divine kingdom in the earth, the practical conditions for membership therein, and the inclusion of Gentile as well as Jew in the gracious provision. Novel were his words. Whoever had heard his discourse on the Mount or the parable of the lost sheep was rich beyond the modern sons of men. But now, in the closing period of his stay with mortals, he was more frequently foretelling the life to come. Like a footworn traveler drawing near the homeland, he was keenly anticipating his return to the spirit world. Those who listened to him heard majestic intimations of a celestial country which eye had not beheld. Nor is it to be thought that the Gospels, in their restricted pages, have recorded half his words concerning the heavenly land.
Now comes the opportunity for Quintus himself to hear this new Teacher of the Jews. A messenger from Pilate, sent on an errand to the headquarters at Scopus, brings the tidings that Christ is in Jerusalem as a visitor at the Feast of Dedication. Favored are those who hear through the years the world's commanding voices; beyond estimate is the high privilege now granted Quintus.
"I will hasten in to Hierosolyma," he says to Aulus, who is detained by camp duties; "I will hear him for myself; and I will bring you back report as to this latest prophet of immortality."
With his soldier's cloak about him, in protection against the winter's chill, Quintus is away to Jerusalem. The national Feast of Dedication attracts his notice. A courteous Hebrew explains to him that the joyful festival commemorates the cleansing of the Temple after its profanation by Antiochus Epiphanes, two hundred years before. The procession of pious Jews, carrying their palm branches and marching to the heights of Moriah, the chanting of the great Hallel within the imposing fane, the ascription of praise to Jehovah all impress the keen-eyed soldier.
The enthusiasm of it all! Though of other blood, Quintus clearly feels the thrill of patriotism that stirs the multitude about him; and he understands in some measure their impatient waiting for the coming prince who shall deliver Israel.
But is this all? Instead it is only the beginning of the wonders which the serious Quintus is to witness. Forth he passes to the eastern cloister of the Temple, known then among the Jews as Solomon's Porch, in memory of their illustrious king. The bystanders tell Quintus that it is built of a fragment of the first Temple which Nebuchadnezzar had left standing. As the soldier looks down the far-reaching aisle, he sees a quadruple row of white Corinthian columns, one hundred and sixty in number, and extending a length of many hundred feet. The vista is most amazing. Accustomed though he has been all his days to the magnificence of the Roman architecture, he yields in willing admiration to the splendors of the Solomonic porch.
Then—he sees the Christ! Walking through that forest of massive columns is the superlative Jew of his times, and of all times. For now—when the voices of that winter day are still, and Solomon's Porch has vanished where stood those blessed feet—there is no earthly measurement by which to estimate the Man whom Quintus saw.
Among the throng that surround him hostile Pharisees challenge him to tell them plainly if he be the foretold Messiah. With impatient hearts they have waited long for their redemption. Let him say if their deliverer has now come. Then shall they throw off the yoke of the detested Roman rule and renew their ancient monarchy with enlarging influence and increasing splendors.
Memorable words in answer does Quintus hear. The Stranger puts aside the thought of the Jewish struggle for an earthly throne, and turns in his fancy to the quiet pastures where feed the flocks. He is a guardian Shepherd; Israel and all the world besides are his cherished sheep. Those who are truly his shall hear his guiding voice, and shall follow him. They shall never perish. From the hand of the Shepherd no vandal shall steal his own away. How the words thrill! Sometimes Quintus has seen in the Judaean pastures the keeper with his flocks, and knows how unchanging is his fidelity. It is as if this watcher in his devotion is anticipating the faithfulness of the greater Shepherd. How entrancing is the lesson to this seeking soldier from beyond the Adriatic!
Then does the Christ add another word more surprising than the rest. To men who are his sheep he makes a promise that compasses the furthest limit of the eternities. Of such he says: "Unto those who follow me I will give the Life of the Ages. Beyond the tomb they are to live on forevermore." Nor to the Jews alone, amid the maze of those Corinthian columns, does the coming Shepherd speak. The listening Roman soldier, wearing the armor of the empire on the Tiber, comes within the circle of his promise. Into the face of Quintus he looks and benignly says: "There are other sheep not of the Jewish pasture, to whom I shall give this unending life. I covet your great empire as my own. O soldier of the Caesars, follow after me!"
Back to the camp on Scopus the soldier goes, moved to his deepest soul. Impossible it seems to longer worship the Roman gods. When he has described to Aulus the Feast of Dedication, he repeats the words he has heard in the Temple cloister, and says in deepest seriousness:
"Most unearthly is the Man on whom I have looked to-day. In his speech a divine patience, kindness, and dignity combine. As for the words he spoke, I cannot tell their moving power. The sayings of our noblest Romans are feeble in the comparison. Never have I heard another speak as he has done about a future world. Truly, an unequaled Man is this new Teacher who is abroad in Judaea."
Sleep is of little consequence that night. Is the word of the augur at Brundisium beginning to be fulfilled? In his tent Quintus is wondering through the long hours if, among his people on the Tiber, the Shepherd shall not find some sheep to whom he will give the unending life.