CHAPTER XVII
In this way there gathered round the carpenter of Nazareth more disciples and friends, who wished to accompany Him in His wanderings through the land. For Jesus had decided. He desired only to wander through the land and bring men tidings of the Heavenly Father and of the Kingdom of God. He appointed some of His disciples to prepare for Him a reception and lodging everywhere. Then there were the assemblies of the people to regulate; and the disciples, so far as they themselves understood the new teaching, must act as interpreters and expositors for those who could not understand the Master's peculiar language. Among those was John, the carpenter, who had once been an apprentice to Jesus, a near relative of the Master. Other of His disciples were called James, he was the boat-builder; then Simon, Andrew, and Thomas, the fishermen; Levi Matthew, the publican; Thaddeus, the saddler; and further—but my memory is weak—James, the little shepherd; Nathan, the potter; and his brother Philip, the innkeeper from Jericho; Bartholomew, the smith; and Judas, the money-changer from Carioth. Like Simon and Matthew, they had all left their trades or offices to follow with boundless devotion Him they called Lord and Master.
How shall I dare to describe the Master! His personality defies description. It left none cold who came in contact with it. It was attractive not only by humility and gentleness, but more by active power, and by such sacred and fiery anger as had never before been seen in any one. People were never tired of looking at the man with the tall, handsome figure. His head was crowned with lightly curling, reddish, bright-looking hair, which hung down soft and heavy at the side and back, and floated over His shoulders. His brow was broad and white, for no sunbeam could penetrate the shade formed by His hair. He had a strong, straight nose, more like that of a Greek than of a Jew, and His red lips were shaded with a thick beard. And His eyes were wonderful, large, dark eyes, with a marvellous fire in them. Ordinarily it was a fire that burnt warm and soft, but at times it shone with a great glow of happiness, or sparkled with anger, like a midsummer storm by night in the mountains of Lebanon. On that account many called Him "fiery eye." He wore a long, straight gown, without hat or staff. He generally wore sandals on His feet, but sometimes He forgot to put them on, for in His spiritual communings He did not perceive the roughness of the road. So He wandered through the stony desert, as through the flowery meadows of the fertile valleys. When His companions complained of the storm or heat, and tore their limbs on the sharp stones and thorns, He remained calm and uncomplaining. He did not, like the holy men of the East, seek for hardships, but He did not fear them. He was an enemy of all external trappings, because they distracted the attention from the inner life, and by their attractions might induce a false appearance of reality. He gladly received invitations to the houses of the joyful, and rejoiced with them; at table He ate and drank with moderation. He added to the pleasures of the table by narrating parables and legends, by means of which He brought deep truths home to the people. Since He left the little house at Nazareth, He possessed no worldly goods. What He needed in His wanderings for Himself and His followers, He asked of those who had possessions. His manner was often rough and spiced with bitter irony, even where He proved Himself helpful and sympathetic. Towards His disciples, whom He loved deeply—expecially young John—He always showed Himself absorbed in His mission to make strong, courageous, God-fearing men out of weak creatures. He was so definite about what He liked and what He disliked, that even the blindest could see it. He suffered no compromise between good and evil. He specially disliked ambiguous speakers, hypocrites, and sneaks; He preferred to have to do with avowed sinners.
One of His fundamental traits was to be yielding in disposition, but unflinching in His teaching. He avoided all personal dislikes, hatreds, all that might poison the heart. His soul was trust and kindness. So high did He rank kindness, and so heavily did he condemn selfishness, that one of His disciples said, to sin from kindness brought a man nearer to God than to do good through selfishness. The hostility and reverses He met with He turned into a source of happiness. Happiness! Did not that word come into the world with Jesus?
"He is always talking of being happy," someone once said to John. "What do you understand by being happy?"
John replied; "When you feel quite contented inwardly, so that no worldly desire or bitterness disturbs your peace, when all within you is love and trust, as though you were at rest in the eternity of God and nothing can trouble you any more, that is, as I take it, what He means by being happy. But it cannot be put into words, only he who feels it understands."
And Jesus possessed, too, the high sense of communion with God, which he transmitted to all who followed Him. But I should like to add that where Jesus was most divine, there He was most human. In thrusting from Him all worldly desire, all worldly property, and worldly care, He freed Himself from the burden which renders most men unhappy. In communion with God He was at once a simple child, and a wise man of the world. No anxiety existed about accidents, perils, loss and ruin. Everything happened according to His will, because it was the will of God, and He enjoyed life with simplicity and a pure heart. Is not that the true human lot? And does not such a natural, glad life come very near to the Divine?
Thus, then, He followed the Divine path across that historic ground which will be known as the Holy Land to the end of time.
And now that great day, that great Sabbath morning came.
For a long time damp, grey mists had hung over the valleys of Galilee; banks of fog had hovered over the mountains of Lebanon; showers of cold rain fell. But after the gloom dawned a bright spring morning. From the rocky heights a fertile land was visible. Green meadows watered by shining streams adorned the valleys, and groups of pines, fig trees, olive trees, and cedars, the slopes and the hill-tops. Vines and dewy roses were in the hedges. A full-voiced choir of birds and fresh breezes from the Lake filled the soft air. Westwards the blue waters of the Mediterranean might be discerned, and in the east, through distant clefts in the rocks, the shimmer of the Dead Sea. Southwards lay the plain, and the yellowish mounds which marked the beginning of the desert. And towards the west the snow peaks of Lebanon were visible above the dark forest and the lighter green of the slopes. A perfect sunny peacefulness lay over everything.