We cannot grasp the conception Jesus had of the work he came to do; it makes us dizzy when we contemplate it steadily; it is like trying to realize the distances of the fixed stars. Its splendor blinds us; it is like looking at the unclouded sun.
No one, whatever may be his opinion of Jesus or attitude toward him, can question that he believed absolutely in the success of the work he proposed to accomplish. His plans embrace the entire race of man and require eternity for their consummation, but he speaks of these stupendous things with the perfect assurance and simplicity of a little child: “And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me.”
It was hard to say which is most unlike a mere man: the character of the work he proposed to do, the magnitude of it, the unhasting zeal with which he set about it, or his absolute confidence, calmness, and simplicity of manner in telling men about it.
It is impossible to write worthily on such a theme. Let us, if only for a moment, try to see how unlike a mere man it all is.
Jesus considers the sources of man’s misery and the nature of his remedy. It is all open, clear, and certain to his thoughts. He has not the least possible doubt that he has gone to the root of the subject and absolutely knows it all. What has confounded all human thinkers is in the sunlight to his vision. When the strongest and best of men tries to mine into the depths of man’s nature and misery he labors heavily and breathes hard, like a diver in his coat of mail down in the deep sea. When a man attempts to tell what he thinks he sees in the shadows from which he cannot escape, while meditating these difficult and to him impossible themes, he is in sore travail for words; utterance is heavy and confused. But Jesus makes no effort to grasp the truth; his thoughts are clear and complete to him; his language simple and clear to us. It is like this: “Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts.” Therefore, there must be, not reformation only, but change. “Ye must be born again,” is his first word to Nicodemus and to all who come to him.
There is another thought to be considered at this point in taking note of characteristics which difference Jesus from men. A mere man discovering in his reflections the abysmal depths of man’s spiritual malady, a mere man clearly comprehending, as no man ever yet comprehended, the evil of sin, would be crushed by despair. Many good men, seeing but a little way into this darkness, have been made mad by what they saw. Where it is not morbid sentiment or philosophic play this is the origin of pessimism.
There is nothing of this in Jesus. He saw it all; its uttermost deeps were open to his eyes; but he faces the trouble with infinite calmness. He announces a remedy adequate to the evil. He speaks to a weary and sin-stricken race: “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
And this is what he offers to a sinning and troubled world. He says he will change men, make them new and good, make them well again.
But there are no lunatic airs, common to dreamers and enthusiasts. No mere man could think such thoughts and earnestly say such things without lunacy. But there never was such perfect mental and spiritual equilibrium as we see plainly in Jesus. He speaks of the moral conquest of the entire race; he asks for the perfect love of men, that he may save them from all evil by saving them from their sins; he speaks of his work as comprehending time and eternity; he offers to the faithful immortality and eternal life. And his calmness of spirit is absolute; his simplicity of manner is perfect.