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

by E. F. Burr

There were tremblings on the tongue of the Jew as he closed his low chant, and tears in the eyes of the Greek; but the latter said nothing for a few moments, and then merely asked that the narrative might proceed. So the Jew resumed.

The chiefs would willingly have lingered long in Bethlehem; but the same Divine Word that had brought them almost immediately sent them away. The next night the message came, “Let them return—and return by another way.” So they returned by way of Egypt and the Red Sea.

Shortly after the pilgrims had left Alexandria, news came that Herod, in a fit of jealousy, had massacred all the male children in Bethlehem under two years of age. It was like him. Everybody believed the story. But could it be that the Messiah of whose triumphs and reign so many prophets, in so many ways, had spoken, had perished in his infancy? Could the promises of God be broken by the cruelty of man? Was Herod strong enough to defeat the Almighty?

The khan had hardly begun to ask these questions before there appeared at its gate a man leading an ass, on which was seated a young woman who carried in her arms a little boy. The mother was interesting—the boy was wonderful. Never had the landlord seen such a child. It was not merely that he was comely in the highest degree—it was the mystery of expression in his face. As one looked on it nothing seemed too good or great to be believed of him. His body seemed a thin veil through which flashes of inexhaustible treasures of wisdom and goodness and power were continually struggling. You who have seen a light shining through thin alabaster—you who have seen a gem in whose heart rainbows seemed imprisoned—you who have seen a soft, white cloud around whose edges have crept suggestions of an intolerable glory within and behind, can have some idea of how that wonderful Child impressed the people of the khan. By degrees they learned that the family had come from Bethlehem, that fear of Herod was the cause of their leaving, that the eastern princes had been under their roof—at last, when confidence was full-grown and all reserve thrown away, that they had among them the very Star-Child to which the journeying East had brought its loyal homage and tribute.

It was strange to see the mixture of tenderness and awe with which the mother dealt with her son—strange to see the mixture of weakness and power, of humbleness and superiority, of dependence and independence with which the son dealt with his mother. At one moment it seemed as if she was acting the part of a Providence to him; at another as if he was acting the part of a Providence to her.

The house was a different house from the time that Jesus (for such was his name) entered it. A new element had come into its air; a new light seemed to rest on every object; never had its inmates found it so easy to pray and lead a good life. It was as if a new life had silently come under their own; and, like a broad wave, was lifting it heavenward. The eyes of Jesus, from their fathomless depths, seemed to invite to all that was holy and to forbid all that was sinful.

But even Alexandria was too near Herod. So, after the sacred family had well rested from their journey, they went still farther south. It was a sad day for the khan when they went away. The host would take nothing in the way of compensation—save a smile from the young mother and a touch from the child for each child of his. How that touch thrilled them through and through as with some mysterious healing! They think they can feel it to-day.

The khan kept its secret. After a while news came that the Holy Family went as far as Mantaréëh, and remained there till the death of Herod, when they returned to their own country. After that, ears were kept wide-open toward Judea; for it could not be thought that such a beginning would end in nothing—that man and circumstance would be allowed to defeat God.

But the waiting was long. Ten years passed, twenty years, almost thirty, and yet no further news came of Jesus. The khan was sorely puzzled. It knew not what to think. Yet it still clung to faith and hope. At last it began to hear vaguely of strange excitements and movements in Judea. The eyes and ears of the whole family turned in that direction as never before. And soon they learned that a great reformer had burst suddenly on the people from the wilderness—austere, fearless, mighty of speech, smiting the sins of high and low with the sword of his mouth, baptizing, followed by immense crowds, who inquired, Is not this the Christ?