CHAPTER XXII
As we passed through the country to Capernaum, we began to tell the people everywhere that Jesus had now determined to go up to Jerusalem at the head of his followers, and that the time of Redemption was at hand. But Jesus forbade us; for he would not that any man should know that he was passing through. Howbeit, even though we were silent, the rumour of his journey was everywhere noised abroad, so that he could not be hid. Many therefore left their ploughs, and their fishing-boats, and their trades, and followed with us: or, if they followed not, they appointed to be with us at the next Passover when we went up to the Holy City. For it was already the month called Adar, so that it wanted no more than four or five weeks to the Passover.
Now certain youths and striplings followed us, not deliberately, nor with forethought, but because they were ever unstable and ever seeking after new things. Them therefore Jesus warned to go back to their homes, telling them that they had not counted the cost of the journey. Others were fain to have come with us; but their friends sought by all means to prevent them, telling them what cruelties the Romans had wrought upon their fathers and kinsfolk in former times; how some had been [pg 277]sold for slaves, some slain with the sword, some crucified; and with many tears sisters besought their brothers, and mothers their children, not to go up to Jerusalem, nor to bring them down with sorrow to the grave. Now Jesus did not call upon such as these to come to him; but if they were minded to come, he bade them remember that they must above all things trust in him and love him; yea, he said that they must love him better than houses, or lands, or kinsfolk.
Hence also it came to pass that in a certain village he spake words which have been a stumblingblock to many. For so it was that a certain young man of that village had come forth to meet Jesus; and after he had saluted him, the young man had promised to follow in his army, and to serve him even to the death. Howbeit he besought Jesus that he would suffer him first to go and bid farewell to his father and mother. Now Jesus looked on him, and perceived that he was as a reed that bendeth with the wind. So he said unto him that he must not go: “For,” said he, “he that putteth his hand to the plough and looketh back, is not fit for the Kingdom of God.” Thereupon the face of the young man fell and he became very sad; yet he obeyed Jesus, for that day, and followed him; but on the morrow he secretly departed for to bid his parents farewell, meaning shortly to return to Jesus. So when Jesus passed through the village wherein the young man abode, behold, the young man was even then coming forth from the door of his home. But his mother ran behind him, and caught him by the cloak, and embracing him besought him again and again not to go with Jesus. Thus she constrained him. But Jesus, looking back on the youth, [pg 278]said, “Verily he that hateth not his father and his mother cannot be my disciple.”
Already, even at the beginning of our march, when we first departed from Hermon, there had arisen a questioning among us, who should have the chief places in the New Kingdom. For now, within one month, we looked to see the Romans cast out of Jerusalem, the Holy City and Temple purified, and the throne of the Redeemer established. This done, it seemed to us that Syria would be portioned out to several princes or governors; Galilee to one, Samaria to another, Peræa to a third; after the manner of the Romans, whose custom it is to divide their dominions among many princes. So we disputed among ourselves who should have the best provinces. Judas, as being ever foremost in all actions, claimed a principal share; but the others also were not backward. Thus we disputed as we walked behind Jesus, being now nigh to Capernaum; and so it was that, in the heat of our disputing, we knew not that Jesus was standing still, waiting till we should overtake him. Therefore we walked on, still disputing, with clamour and much anger, till, lo, Jesus was in the midst of us. He looked sorrowfully on us, but said nothing for that time, and we were all straightway silent.
But in the evening, when we were all together in the house, Jesus called us to him, holding a little child by the hand; and when we were gathered round him, he set the little one in the midst of us, and said that we had forgotten his former saying, how that no man could enter the Kingdom unless he became as a little child. Then he added these words, “Whosoever shall humble [pg 279]himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.” Then said Judas, “Whoso hath wrought much, shall he not receive much? and whoso hath wrought little, shall he not receive little? And is not the Master of the work faithful, who will pay us the wage of our work?”
For an instant Jesus was silent, looking at Judas as though perchance he had not heard his words aright. Then he answered that in the New Kingdom there was no difference of reward; for the least were to be as the greatest. At the same time he placed his hand on the head of the little one and said, “Whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me, and whosoever shall receive me receiveth not me, but Him that sent me.” He also spake a certain parable to us, as if to shew that the reward in the kingdom is not by way of price but rather by way of a free gift, coming from the Father, as cometh the rain from heaven, and sufficing for all them which receive it; even as the lord of an estate, out of the kindness of his heart, might give unto all his labourers the same wage (and that sufficing for their needs), even though some of the labourers might perchance be hired later than the rest.
Judas had withdrawn himself before Jesus began this parable. For he was greatly abashed, though Jesus had not rebuked him by name. But Jesus seemed saddened by our disputing, and by our hardness of heart in that we understood him not. Notwithstanding he was still cheerful and gentle according to his wont. For albeit he saw close before his feet the darkness of the valley of death, yet, above and beyond the [pg 280]valley of death was the hill of life, which (at that time) he seemed to see and to describe, even as if he had traversed and measured it out with a measuring reed. Notwithstanding for our sakes he seemed sometimes to be in meditation and sorrow, as though, when he had reached Paradise, he should look back upon us left behind and alone.