O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate: and verily I say unto you, Ye shall not see me, until the time come when ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.—St. Luke xiii. 34, 35.
I. I spoke last week of the fire which Christ came to kindle on the earth, and of the baptism with which He was Himself to be baptised. Words which he spoke at the same time, but which I reserved for this morning, tell us something of the nature of that fire and of that Baptism.
“Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth? I tell you, Nay; but rather division: For from henceforth there shall be five in one house divided, three against two, and two against three. The father shall be divided against the son, and the son against the father; the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother; the mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law, and the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.”
We try to soften this terrible prophecy by our comments. As if we could explain away facts which are notorious to every reader of history, to every one who has any experience of what is passing in his own time! As if we could convince any reasonable persons that there have not been, that there are not, these strifes in families; that the Gospel of Christ has not provoked them, and does not provoke them still! Or as if our Lord, supposing He is the Prince of Peace, as we say He is, wanted our help to vindicate Him from the charge of being the Author of war! Surely we may trust Him with His own character. All that is required of us is, that we should let His words come to us in the fulness of their power and their condemnation. Goodness and gentleness do stir up what is opposed to them in us; we know that they do. Our sectarian animosities are kindled by the message of God’s goodwill to men; we know that they are. Can we not understand then, how, coming among a set of hostile factions, which abhorred one another, but observed a conventional decency in their strife, Christ stirred up their rage to its very depths? Cannot we understand how the fury of both burned for awhile against Him—a hollow truce being established between them by the presence of a common enemy? Did it not revenge itself for that restraint afterwards? Did not every hearth and household become a battlefield in that war? This was the state of Jerusalem, as its own historian describes it in the latter days. He can give us the narrative calmly, Jew though he was. When Jesus looked forward to it, He was straitened with agony. He felt in every fibre of His own being what was coming upon His land. There may have been moments when the evil spirit thrust the thought full upon Him: ‘Would it not be better to shrink from Thy task? If this is the effect of the Peace which Thou proclaimest, why not let them welter on without any announcement of God’s kingdom?’ Such suggestions have been continually made to His followers, when they have spoken of peace, and when those to whom they have spoken have made them ready for the battle. If He was tempted in all points like them, He cannot have been free from this kind of anguish. Nor will He have overcome the tempter with any other weapons than those with which He has furnished them. He must have said, for Himself and for them, ‘My work is with the Lord, and my judgments with my God. In His own time my Father will accomplish His purpose. The hollow alliances of sects will end in more fierce and frantic war. But through that war will come, the discovery of the peace which passeth understanding, the peace which lasts in the midst of the world’s tribulations; that peace will be established through the whole creation.’
II. Truly it did not require a prophet’s eye to discern what was passing among the chosen people at that time.
‘And he said also to the people, When ye see a cloud rise out of the west, straightway ye say, There cometh a shower; and so it is. And when ye see the south wind blow, ye say, There will be heat; and it cometh to pass. Ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky and of the earth; but how is it that ye do not discern this time? Yea, and why even of yourselves judge ye not what is right?’ ‘What, are the prognostics of the weather indeed so credible and trustworthy? Have you faculties for discovering these, and can you make nothing of the signs which show whither this age is tending—whither the country, of which you are citizens, is tending? Cannot you even discern the facts which are going on within yourselves? Oh, believe it, the clouds do not portend rain, or the south wind heat, half so certainly as the accusing spirit who speaks in your conscience warns you of storms which are approaching you.’ Of this adversary, this accuser within, He speaks awfully in the next verse. ‘When thou goest with thine adversary to the magistrate, as thou art in the way, give diligence that thou mayest be delivered from him; lest he hale thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and the officer cast thee into prison.’ When you hear a voice within you warning you of evils done by you, of evils that are coming upon you, oh, let him not speak again, once, twice, thrice! Agree with him quickly, whilst thou art in the way with him. Confess the wrong. Ask to be set right. Tell God of thy terrors. Ask Him to take them from thee. Else thy spirit will become more riveted in that evil, more and more possessed by that terror. The Judge will deliver thee to the officer, the officer will cast thee into prison. And oh, that prison! the prison of the spirit, the spirit of the man himself! My friends, if we know anything of what that is, we shall enter into the force of the last words; we shall confess their intense truth: ‘I tell thee, thou shalt not depart thence, till thou hast paid the very last mite.’ Yes, the very last mite; till thou hast wholly, utterly given up thyself. There is no redemption but in that.
III. Whilst he was speaking of these signs, which foretold the downfall of the Jewish commonwealth, of those signs which each member of that commonwealth might discover in his own heart—‘there were present some who told Him of the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices’ It was an event, no doubt, which had occurred recently; the minds of the people must have been full of it. There could be no more ghastly exhibition of a Roman’s contempt for the rites which were most sacred in their eyes; contempt mingled, as it generally is, with cruelty. It was of a piece with much of Pilate’s administration; he had already done acts which shewed that, in his scorn of the Jewish worship, he could forget the prudence of a ruler, and transgress the maxims of toleration which the Caesars ordinarily recognised. Here, then, was a sign of the times. Here was a warning of the desolation which was coming upon city and Temple. But those who could read the signs in the heavens so skilfully, could not discover the meaning of this sign. They supposed that the Galileans who had suffered these things were sinners above all the Galileans. God had given them over to the malice of the Governor for some special enormities of which they had been guilty. ‘I tell you nay,’ said our Lord; but except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.’ Understand from this event, the kind of punishment which is threatening you all. Understand, that unless you turn to Him who has called you to know Him, and to be the witnesses of Him to the world—unless you confess your abuse of that calling the sacrifices will be taken from you, and in the most tremendous sense your blood will be mingled with them. He went on to speak of another sign which had been similarly explained. The tower of Siloam had fallen. It had crushed eighteen men. Those eighteen had been suspected of having drawn the sentence upon them because they were sinners above all the inhabitants of Jerusalem. Rather let all the inhabitants of Jerusalem see in that fall a message from God, telling them that the towers of their city would fall, that the whole nation would be crushed, if it did not fly from its Mammon and Moloch worship to the God of Abraham.
I do not in the least undervalue the lesson which is commonly deduced from this passage against rash conclusions respecting those who are the subjects of any unusual calamity. The lesson is there; it ought to be enforced; but I believe it will be much more strongly and usefully enforced, if we do not overlook the more prominent lesson which connects these words with all that went before, and with all that follow them. For St. Luke says, ‘He spake also this parable; evidently meaning us to understand it as bearing upon the topic of which He had just been speaking. ’A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig-tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground? And he answering said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it: And if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down. No reader of the Old Testament could misunderstand the general scope of this parable. The nation’s life had been associated again and again by the Psalmists and Prophets with the life of trees, of the fig-tree and the vine especially. The nation was asked why it did not bring forth such fruits as bore witness of a divine root, as answered to a divine tillage; why it brought forth wild fruits such as grew out of an evil selfish root, or such as had received no benefit from tillage. Our Lord adopts the old language. He explains the divine discipline upon human wills, upon the springs and sources of human action, by the discipline which is bestowed upon natural things. He teaches that we are to refer the preservation of societies and the renovation of societies to a divine process, as we are to see in the degeneracy of societies and their dissolution the resistance to that process. The Jewish nation was becoming sapless; there was corruption at the core of it. Still it was very dear to Him, who had watched over it in all generations, who had come to look after it now. It was dear to Him, for He had the mind of the great Husbandman, the Father from whom He had been sent. He must make new experiments upon it. He must see whether it would still reject all His appeals to it. Such language may clash with our theories of Omnipotence; but it is the language of the Bible throughout. The whole of it is false, if it is false that God shews His might, not in crushing wills but in educating them; that His punishments are themselves the expressions of His tenderness for the works of His own hand, of His determination not to cast aside the clay till He has shaped it into some vessel for His use. That this vessel, this chosen race, would be cast aside, is becoming all too evident. St. Luke could bear to recite the parable which pointed to that catastrophe, for he had entered into the language of his friend, the Hebrew of the Hebrews who had wished himself accursed for Christ for the sake of his kinsmen after the flesh. ’I say then, Have they stumbled that they should fall? God forbid: but rather through their fall salvation is come unto the Gentiles, for to provoke them to jealousy. Now if the fall of them be the riches of the world and the diminishing of them the riches of the Gentiles; how much more their fulness?’
But what were the proofs that the fig-tree had become sapless, that there was decay at its root? Here is one proof:—‘And he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. And, behold, there was a woman which had a spirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed together, and could in no wise lift up herself. And when Jesus saw her, he called her to him, and said, Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity. And he laid his hands on her: and immediately she was made straight, and glorified God. And the ruler of the synagogue answered with indignation, because that Jesus had healed on the sabbath day, and said unto the people, There are six days in which men ought to work: in them therefore come and be healed, and not on the sabbath day. The Lord then answered him, and said, Thou hypocrite, doth not each one of you on the sabbath loose his ox or his ass from the stall, and lead him away to watering? And ought not this woman, being a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan hath bound, lo, these eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the sabbath day? And when he had said these things, all his adversaries were ashamed: and all the people rejoiced for all the glorious things that were done by him.’
In that act of Jesus came forth the tenderness and love which had cared for the man-servant and the maid-servant, which had ordained that man should rest because God rested, that man should work because God worked. In that speech of the Ruler of the Synagogue came forth that denial of a God of goodness and loving-kindness, that worship of a God who grudges blessings to His creatures, who insists upon one day for Himself and leaves His creatures to enjoy six days without Him—which had been accumulating up in the nation for many ages, and was now reaching its climax. And Christ’s awful exposure of the man who had no scruple about saving his property on the Sabbath Day, but had the greatest scruple about benefiting a fellow creature, shewed to what God this Ruler of the Synagogue had transferred his allegiance, what god was becoming the object of his countrymen’s service. There was still a protest in the heart of the people against that service, a recognition of the invincible logic which confounded the ruler. ‘The people rejoiced for the glorious things that were done by Him.’ The fig-tree was not yet dead. The Dresser of the vineyard was still mending about it and dunging it.
And there was a profounder consolation, an infinite joy, in remembering that the divine seed was working, and that if that tree was dying, another tree which would spread its branches far more widely was springing up.
‘Then said he, Unto what is the kingdom of God like? and whereunto shall I resemble it? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and cast into his garden; and it grew, and waxed a great tree; and the fowls of the air lodged in the branches of it.’
Out of the perishing nation would arise the Universal Church; it would rise at the message of the Kingdom of Heaven delivered by fishermen; that would be the tiny seed from which it would grow. Even an humbler comparison (none could be too humble) might attest the mysterious working of the divine Word in the hearts of men. ‘And again he said, Whereunto shall I liken the kingdom of God? It is like leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened?’
He goes onwards, still moving towards Jerusalem. At each step of the journey there has been an announcement of some great woe impending over the land, impending over those priests and rulers who might seem safe, whatever befell the rest of their countrymen. ’Then said one unto him, Lord, are there few that be saved?? The question was a very natural one. It must have often been in their hearts, if it had not risen to their lips. What exactly it meant we cannot know, for probably he who asked it did not know. He had a vague terror of some great danger which might overtake him and all that were dear to him. It might be a danger to the body, it might be a danger to the spirit. The scene of it might be in this world or in some other world to which men would go after death. It might be temporary. It might be endless. It might come from the Son of Man. He might be the Saviour out of it. All possibilities were there; Christ’s words had awakened the conscience to activity; it gave its own force and sense to those words. Our Lord’s answer enabled the inquirer to know his own meaning as he did not know it before. And He said unto them:—
“Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us; and he shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are: Then shall ye begin to say, We have eaten and drunk in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our streets. But he shall say, I tell you, I know you not whence ye are; depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out. And they shall come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God. And, behold, there are last which shall be first, and there are first which shall be last.’
If we took the last words of this passage first, we should say at once, ‘There is a direct answer to the demand, Are there few that be saved? Does He not say, They shall come from the east and the west, and from the north and the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God?’ But this language would not have explained itself to the mind or conscience of those who heard it, or of us who read it, if it had stood alone.
He had warned them of active moral corruptions which were destroying the land and infecting the hearts of all its members. He had told them that against these he was waging war. Salvation from these was what they wanted. Let them remember what he had said of the leaven of hypocrisy, of that covetousness which was taking so many forms, putting on such religious disguises. Let them strive then to enter in at the strait gate—the gate of sincerity and trust which was so hard to find, which so many were missing. Let them understand that the Master of the house, the Lord of their hearts and spirits, was speaking to them there—was calling them to confess His government, to abandon the service of other lords for His. There might come a day when that voice would be heard no more—when the door through which He was calling them to enter would be shut. There would be then a confession in many hearts. ‘He was our true Lord. These cheats and self-deceptions to which we have given up our souls are dying out; there is no help in them. These possessions, where are they going? are our reversions worth anything? Lord, Lord, let us have Thee now, since these have. failed.’ But He from within, that secret Lord of the heart and reins, shall answer, ‘I know you not whence you are. You have never desired righteousness; you have never hungered and thirsted after truth. What have I in common with you?’ And then comes the effort to gather comfort from the thought of all the religious duties they have performed—of all the privileges which they possessed and others were without: ‘Can it be that Thou who didst. preach to publicans and sinners hast no word for us who did so many things to make ourselves acceptable to our Maker?’ But it avails not. The Voice sounds clear in the conscience: ‘You have been workers of iniquity. These acts and services have not made you truer or better men. I tell you I know you not whence you are.’
Fearful words, surely; as fearful as ever were spoken, because they go to the very root of things, because they repeat a colloquy of the spirit in man with its Ruler, when all the disguises by which it has hidden itself from Him have been swept away. Therefore have they sounded in ever deepening tones through the ages; therefore must every one of us say, ‘I am meant to heed them.’
But they did refer to that age, as the next verse proves. ’They pointed to the wailing and gnashing of teeth with which the exclusive, self-satisfied child of Abraham would regard the entrance of outcasts and idolaters into that kingdom of God from which he. was shut out. He might have still the external law, the Scriptures, whatever he had exulted in, as the proof of his distinction from the rest of mankind. He might have outward treasures, which would make him envied—and tormented. But the kingdom of the Living God, the eternal kingdom, under the shadow of which, in the hope of which, Abraham and Isaac and Jacob had dwelt, which they were sure would reveal itself more and more fully to the world—which they would rejoice in, after they had left the world, where was that? Gentiles would give thanks that the Lord was King, be the earth ever so unruly; that He sat upon the water-floods, let the people be never so unquiet. Gentiles would expect a manifestation of His brightness and glory to the whole universe. And the brethren of the Psalmists and Prophets, the rightful inheritors of all their grand possessions and expectations, must be left to the anguish of feeling themselves under capricious, tyrannical, human rulers—of dreading, instead of longing, that God should appear and that all things should be made subject to Him.
To the Kingdom of God, then, we are brought back. Shall only a few see that? Very many; more than you dream of; men of every nation, and kindred, and tongue. ‘But there are last which shall be first, and first which shall be last.2 How does that sentence strike at the judgments of Jew and of Gentile; of the chosen nation and of the Catholic Church! How does it encourage us to believe that those whom we have supposed to be out of the pale of salvation may be claimed as His by the Son of man. How does it force each of us to say, ’Mighty Lord! Master of the house! wilt Thou not save me from the pride and. the scorn which have divided me from Thy brethren and from Thee!’
Jesus spoke of the Kingdom of Heaven. There were rulers in Galilee who knew that their kingdom was not a Kingdom of Heaven at all, and who did not like to hear of one. ‘The same day there came certain of the Pharisees saying unto him, Get thee out, and depart hence: for Herod will kill thee.’ These Pharisees were, doubtless, not sorry to shew the disciples of Jesus that there were kings who exercised a power before which their King must bow. He neither bowed before it, nor resisted it, nor fled from it. ‘And he said unto them, Go ye, and tell that fox, Behold, I cast out devils, and do cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I shall be perfected. Nevertheless I must walk to-day, and to-morrow, and the day following: for it cannot be that a prophet perish out of Jerusalem.’ Cunning was the weapon of the Tetrarch; it was not His. He had a work to do; He should do it openly. He must heal sicknesses; He must cast out devils. In a day or two His task in that region would be accomplished. Forward He must go. Herod would do Him no harm. He was indeed to die; but not by that hand, in that place. A prophet could not perish except in Jerusalem. Thither His thoughts, as well as His steps, were tending; the city of David, the city of murderers, was dear to Him above all others—had been dear to Him long before He came to it in that lowly guise with that troop of fishermen.
O, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate: and verily I say unto you, Ye shall not see me, until the time come when ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.’
There you see the King. Yes, do not fear to say it—the patriot King. He loves the world; He has come to gather in the nations. But that city had been chosen as the witness to all nations. Over that He had watched. Its kings had been raised up to shew forth the righteous King of kings. Its prophets had been sent to declare that He reigns, let those who reign under Him be ever so unrighteous. They had been stoned and killed for that testimony. And still He had sought to gather together that broken, divided people. ‘But ye would not.’ You have refused the Reconciler; you have preferred strife and hatred to Him. And therefore the desolation must come. The Holy city, the Temple which is the sign of its holiness and unity, must be deserted of the divine Presence.
What! for ever? He points us to a time when this fallen people should say, ‘Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord;’ when the King and Deliverer should indeed be revealed to them. Is there anything hopeless in the counsels of the everlasting King? Are His purposes of grace and love finally defeated by the selfwill of the creature? Let us trust that they will not be defeated. Else what is in reserve for you and me; for those who have resisted greater manifestations of divine Love, a larger and grander history of divine Patience than any which Jerusalem knew in its earlier days, or in that day?