Leaving the hilltop we come down into the valley, and pitch our tents under some large orange trees on the edge of the city. Oh, what a privilege it is to be here! Nazareth is a holy city. It was the childhood home of the Savior. Here is where Luke says “He was brought up.” Again, “And when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned unto Galilee, to their own city, Nazareth. And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him. And He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them; but His mother kept all these sayings in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and man.” Dutiful child! Model son! A mother would naturally keep such a boy, as well as his “sayings, in her heart.” No doubt He, in childish glee often played with other children, only He never lost His temper. He never got angry and called His playmates hard and ugly names. He was always kind and gentle; consequently all His acquaintances and fellow playmates liked Him, and the more they saw of Him the more they loved Him; for we are told “He grew in favor with God and man.” We are only human; and yet, with God’s help, it is possible for us so to conduct ourselves that we, like Jesus, may grow in wisdom and in favor with God and man.
VALE AND CITY OF NAZARETH.
Yes, Nazareth was the home of Christ. Here He played, here He worked, here He studied Nature in all its loveliness and manifold beauty. One who visits Nazareth can well imagine that in spring-time Jesus would pluck the rose-buds and orange blossoms, and weave them into bouquets for His mother. We know He loved flowers. He was so fond of them that the betrayer knew where to find Him at the evening hour. It was he who said: “Consider the lilies of the field; they toil not, neither do they spin: and yet I say unto you that Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these.”
Knowing as we do His fondness for solitude, nothing is more natural than to suppose that the youthful Christ would often forsake the busy scenes of street-life and climb to the top of the hill back of the city. In the valley He had studied nature and human nature; on the mountain He could study God and revelation. From here His view of the country was something like the catechism definition of infinitude—“without bounds or limits.” Here, seated on a rock, leaning against an olive tree, with the old Hebrew Bible unrolled on His lap, He could read and think and plan to His heart’s content. Here He could read about almost any event, whatsoever, and at once lift His eyes from the parchment and let them fall upon the spot where the scene took place. Did He read of the fish swallowing Jonah, He could look out upon the heaving bosom of the Mediterranean, flecked with white-winged ships, some of them no doubt bound for Tarshish. Did He read about Elijah praying for rain, there was Mt. Carmel projecting into the sea and standing out in such bold relief that one could almost see a man standing on its summit. Did He read from the parchment of Elijah’s contest with the priests of Baal, He could look there at the base of Carmel where the altars were built. Looking to the north, He could see Mt. Hermon where a few years later He was to be transfigured, and was to meet Moses and Elias from the other world. In the same direction was the hill where He was to preach a sermon to a great multitude; there, also, and not far away, was Cana where His first miracle was to be wrought. Eastward, He could see around the Sea of Galilee, where He was to make His future home, and where He was to do “most of His mighty works.” With His face still to the east, He could see Mt. Tabor, six miles distant, rising up like a sugar-loaf to the height of two thousand two hundred feet. Seeing this, He would naturally read of Deborah and Barak with an army of ten thousand men on Tabor while Sisera, with an armed host including nine hundred chariots of war, stood at the base of the mountain. Just south of Nazareth is the broad and fertile plain of Esdraelon, which has been the “battle-ground of the nations.” From the hilltop behind Nazareth, Christ could see, flowing through the midst of this plain, the river Kishon, whose swift and swollen current swept so many of Sisera’s men on to the “Great Sea” and to death. Beyond this plain He could see Nain where He, in after life, was to raise the widow’s son. Near Nain is Endor, where Saul called up the witch by night. There, also, are the heights of Gilboa, where the same King breathed his last. There, too, is Shunem, where Elisha often spent the night; and Jezreel, where Jezebel, the wicked Queen, was flung from the upper window of the palace, and dashed to death upon the stone pavement below.
I am standing upon this same hilltop with an open Bible in my hand. As I read of these different incidents, and then look from place to place where the different scenes occurred, I am deeply moved. These several passages seem to sink into my heart. I am not surprised that Jesus knew the Scriptures so perfectly. This was the best place in all the world for Him to have been brought up. Surely these valleys were spread out, and these hills lifted up to form a fit play-ground and a suitable school-room for the Royal Child.
It was from a high bluff, on this mountain also, that the heartless populace, who rejected Christ’s teaching, tried to “cast Him down headlong. But He, passing through the midst of them, went His way.” To be thrown from this cliff, one would fall a hundred and twenty or thirty feet before striking the jagged rocks below.
Tradition still points out the place where Joseph and Mary lived. It is a plain, simple grotto, hewn in the side of the hill near the city. Joseph’s carpenter-shop is also shown, and some work is still done in that shop. Of course one is to use his own judgment as to how much or how little of these traditions he will believe. The spring, the only water supply of the town, is called “Mary’s Fountain,” “The Virgin’s Fountain” and “The Fountain of the Queen.” During all hours of the day, and far into the night, one sees scores and scores of women and children, with their jugs and goat-skins, crowding around the spring for water.