Aleph, the Chaldean; or, the Messiah as Seen from Alexandria

by E. F. Burr

Within a few days from the close of the trial the authorities had placed in the hands of Cimon the full amount of his claim against Malus, together with interest on all delayed payments. This, in itself, was not sufficient to ruin the rogue financially. But he had already drawn considerably on his resources in his attempt to bribe the judges and secure the countenance of other influential people: for they had not hesitated to take silently his gifts though no equivalent was rendered. But the greatest drain upon him came from another quarter. Other victims of his rapacity, encouraged by the result of Cimon’s suit, attacked him successfully; and before long it seemed as if there would be no end to the suits. Under these circumstances, Alexandria was not much surprised, one fine morning, to hear that Malus (latterly they had fallen into the way of calling him Pessimus) was nowhere to be found—nor any of his remaining assets. The guard set upon him was not incorruptible, and he had disappeared between two days. No one knew where he had gone. Some said to Ethiopia; some said to Spain; some said to Marseilles in Gaul; and some would have it that he had taken to the desert with Draco. A few declared that he had committed suicide. This last supposition, however, was considered extremely improbable, on the ground that so shrewd a person would not take the trouble to carry away with him goods which he did not mean to use. There is no use for current money of the merchant in Hades. Whatever supposition was correct, it is certain that Malus never reappeared in Alexandria.

But our friends had a still more important object in coming to the commercial metropolis of the West. It was to learn about Him who was born king of the Jews. Some things they already knew from the Magi—that his coming was divinely heralded and accompanied by supernatural events, that his mission was a great and glorious one, having significance for all nations. What had they learned in addition? That the life which had opened so grandly amid the ministries and songs of angels, and the worship and gifts of star-led pilgrims, had come to a still grander sequel—that into the glowing dawn had at length come the sun in his strength; a mingled glory of miracles and character and teaching such as never before gathered about a single life—that Jesus is surely the Messiah of the Sacred Books and their sufficient credential—that this Messiah is not, as has been commonly supposed, a secular warrior, conqueror, and king; but a spiritual monarch ruling over willing hearts in the interest of truth and righteousness, and whose victories are salvations—that his mission in the world is one of humiliation instead of exaltation, of suffering instead of pleasure, of death instead of life; and that in dying he completed a vicarious sacrifice for the sins of the world—also, that to express the dignity of his being both the prophets and himself use language which exalts him far above angels and claims for him a Divine nature. To know all this was a great gain, more than they had ventured to hope. And if, on their way home, they should be able to see the Messiah with their own eyes, witness personally some wonderful work, and obtain for themselves and theirs his personal benediction, they would feel that their way had been wonderfully prospered.

And then the educational object which the father of Aleph distinctly proposed to himself—was that object well secured? How well Aleph carried himself when thrown on his own resources for guidance we have seen; and my belief is that when his parents come to see him and to hear the report of Cimon, they will be quite satisfied with their experiment. They will realize that the promising bud has beautifully flowered, that the rare plant which had started and grown so thriftily in their sheltered and sunny conservatory was now hardy enough to be transplanted into the open field, and even to the windy summits of life.

So all the ends proposed in the visit of our friends to Alexandria were accomplished—and more. For these unknown men had been the means of introducing not only a loftier moral element into the student life of Alexandria, but had so drawn upon Cornelius and Metellus, who had specially attached themselves to them, that they had begun to study the Septuagint, to frequent the services at the Diapleuston, to admire the sublime monotheism and hopes of the Jew, and finally to give sure token of becoming, the one the devout Cornelius of the Acts of the Apostle and the other one of those Christians saluted by Paul as belonging to “Aristobulus’ household.”

But the influence of Aleph on Sextus Flaccus was still more remarkable. His frequent interviews with that penitent man ended not only in his thorough reform, and in his renouncing idolatry, but also in his accepting Jesus as a Divine sacrifice for sin.

And it was on this wise. The young Roman at first was terribly oppressed with a sense of sin. He could hardly say too much against himself. His misdeeds and follies haunted him like ghosts, and hunted him like the Eumenides. Their horrible faces scowled at him, their serpent-hair hissed and leaped at him, their clenched hands shook themselves at him from behind almost every object he saw. Sometimes in his sleep he would see a mountain, traced all over in fiery characters with the names of his sins, moving swiftly toward him; and he would wake drenched in sweat and terror as the ponderous masses came rushing in upon him and buried him thousands of feet beneath their munitions of rocks. At other times he dreamed that, like Andromeda, he was chained to a rock at the ocean’s edge, and that great storm-billows in long succession were sweeping in upon him, and that on the crested summit of each a great sea-monster with lurid eyes and open jaws came rushing and shrieking Sin, Sin, SIN. He shrieked as loudly—and awoke in despair.

It was in this state that he first sent for Aleph. His first sense of relief came when Aleph told him the story of Jesus, and suggested the idea of a Divine incarnation and atonement for sin. The wretched man clutched the idea as a drowning man does a plank. Here was something solid to rest upon. Here was a sufficient sacrifice for even his enormities. The weight began to lift from his oppressed breast. At last one day as Aleph was reading to him the sublime description which Isaiah gives in his 53d chapter of Him on whom “were laid the iniquities of us all,” a mighty deliverance came. Suddenly all his doors and windows sprang open musically to welcome Jesus as the Lamb of God. The sense of need opened them. From that day the sick body mended wonderfully; and soon the streets of Alexandria saw a new man under an old name. The name continued to be Sextus Flaccus, but it stood for a very different person. It stood for the first Roman Christian of rank who dared to avow himself. Paul on his arrival at Rome some years later found him a member of Cæsar’s household, and ready to help him with all his influence in founding the first Roman church.

This was a great and unexpected success. But, in addition, our eastern pilgrims, with nothing but their cultured manhood to show, had found other friends such as they had never counted on finding—friends well worth the having, even by a prince; friends whose friendship was for themselves and not for their rank; friends among whom was one—but I must not anticipate. Nay, I must go back a little.

Though Alexander had reached home early in the evening before the last trial, it was very late before he could get to his rest—he had so much to tell and so much to hear. And this was what he had to tell. He had succeeded in both the objects for which he had hastened to Rome. Of course, one of these objects was to prevent the disturbance at the Diapleuston from being misrepresented to the emperor as a personal affront. It was not reported at all. For some reason Flaccus had not thought it best to say anything about the matter in his dispatches. Probably he thought that some of the circumstances would not bear telling; and then the presence of Alexander at the ear of the emperor was in itself a caution to be prudent. So Flaccus was dumb.

The other object which Alexander had in view was really to find out some safe way of declining the marriage proposals in behalf of the Cæsar.