Every incident in the life of Christ is illustrative of the evangelical testimony, "he went about doing good." His efforts were not partial, nor confined to particular occasions; but, availing himself of all the opportunities which occurred, either in public or in private, to promote the welfare of mankind, time never measured out an idle hour--the sun never sat upon a useless day!
It may be truly said, with regard to those who imbibe the spirit of their Master, "no man liveth to himself." Nothing can be more remote from genuine Christianity, than that selfishness which is characteristic of a worldly disposition, and which with an uniform and undeviating assiduity, seeks its own interests and purposes: while nothing can so fully comport with its nature, and evince its prevalence, as that charity which is limited only by the period of human life, the extent of means, and the boundaries of creation.
"When the Lord knew that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus made and baptized more disciples than John ... he left Judea and departed again into Galilee."
The jealousy of his enemies induced them to become narrow observers of all the proceedings of Christ; and, knowing their spirit, he removed to some distance: not, however, through fear--nor (as some expositors have stated) lest they should put him to death; for his hour was not yet come--and it would have been impossible to counteract the purposes of Heaven. He could easily have eluded their utmost vigilance and malignity, as on a certain occasion, when "passing through the midst of them, he went his way." But our Lord did not think proper to disclose himself at once, and in a very public manner. It was not his intention to astonish, but gradually to excite the attention of the Jewish nation, to furnish evidences of his mission to humble and contrite minds, and to lay the foundation of a future work, rather than to operate on a very extended scale himself. In this manner was accomplished the prophecy of Isaiah, "He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment unto truth."
His route lay through Samaria; any other way to Galilee would have been very circuitous: and this is mentioned, because of the directions to his disciples, "Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not; but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." The hour for that enlarged operation of mercy amongst the Gentiles, which had been so long predicted, was not yet arrived, though it was now approaching with desirable rapidity. The dispensations of God are inscrutable to mortals, to whom it seems profoundly mysterious, that the purposes of love to man should first be delayed for so many ages, and then manifested by the work of Christ to so limited an extent. Here we must "walk by faith, not by sight;" while, upon every leaf in the great volume of providence, it is legibly written, "My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways, higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."
It has been piously remarked, that the evangelist refers, by the expression, "he must needs go through Samaria," to our Saviour's purposes of mercy to that vicinity; and undoubtedly it is true, that he was powerfully impelled and irresistibly guided, wherever he went. Nothing could obstruct his designs of mercy, or his labours of love. No force could prevent his benevolent progress: as well might human or diabolical agency attempt to arrest the sun in his course, or stop the march of time.--"My Father worketh hitherto, and I work." "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day; the night cometh, when no man can work."
In his journey, Jesus came to a city of Samaria called Sychar, which appears to have been the same with the Sichem or Shechem of the Old Testament; [[27]] where was a well, to which tradition had assigned the name of Jacob, as having been originally dug by that patriarch. It was now about the sixth hour, or noon, and the climate being exceedingly sultry, Jesus, under the pressure of fatigue, sat down by the well.
Let us for a moment turn aside, like Moses, to "see this great sight." Jesus "sat thus on the well," as the weary traveller seeks a renewal of his strength by temporary repose. What majesty and mystery surround the spot, when we recall the ancient oracles to mind, which represent him as "the Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace;" and compare descriptions of this nature with the evangelical record of his own words, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests: but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head."
What a scene for ministering spirits, who had been accustomed to behold and adore him, but who now witnessed his abasement! What a contrast between "the Lamb in the midst of the throne," and Jesus sitting on a well, and afterward suspended on a cross--between the "King of glory:" and the weary traveller--the "Lord of lords," and the "man of sorrows!"
Let us derive instruction, as well as consolation, from this scene. "We have not a high-priest, who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities: but was in all points tempted, like as we are, yet without sin." If the Saviour had appeared upon earth in external splendour, and in a manner which to human apprehension would have comported better with the majesty of his nature and the pre-eminence of his celestial glory, our insignificance would have created a sense of unapproachable distance: we should have been more astonished than attracted--more confounded than, conciliated. But he disrobed himself of ineffable brightness to bring us nigh, and to produce a just and holy familiarity, saying to his disciples, "I have called you friends."