But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the Kingdom of God.—St. Luke xviii. 16.
If the disciples had dreamed that the Kingdom of God was to come with a pomp and glory which men would observe, the last discourse of our Lord must have greatly shaken the expectation. If they had supposed the day of the Son of Man was to be one of mere brightness to them, however dark it might be to those who were not disciples, that comfort must have been overthrown. Calamities were coming upon their country in that generation. They would have their full share in these calamities. The danger could not be escaped anywhere. Their nation was scattered abroad in different parts of the world. It was perishing. Wherever any part of the body was, there would the eagles be found descending upon it. They might well faint at such tidings.
I. ‘He spake a parable to them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint.’ The parable is of a widow oppressed by a very powerful enemy. It is a case of the weak against the strong. But the case is a very aggravated one, for the law which should protect the weak against the strong is in the worst possible hands. An unjust judge is administering it. Nevertheless, the widow cries. There is what should be a seat of Justice in her city. She will invoke it. The adversary goads her. She must appeal to the tribunal if it is ever so deaf. And the appeal is not fruitless. The judge calculates that it is less troublesome to do right than to be tormented with perpetual cries for redress of wrong. The widow is avenged of her adversary at last.
‘Hear,’ says our Lord, ‘what the unjust judge saith. And shall not God,’—shall not He, who is all just—“avenge his own elect, which cry day and night unto him, though he bear long with them?” Cannot you trust Him to avenge you of your adversary, who Himself has called you to seek Him, who is Himself awakening the cry for help? ‘I tell you that He will avenge them speedily.’ Long as the time may seem to the weary waiter, it will not really belong. He will wonder afterwards how short the struggle was. ‘Nevertheless, when the Son of Man cometh,’—when there is that revelation of which I have spoken, that discovery of the true Friend of Man—“shall he find faith on earth?” Will He be hailed in that character even by those whom He has chosen to be His witnesses?
The history of Christendom has, I think, answered this question. What does its existence mean, but this, that a Son of Man has come, not merely by being born in a manger, by dying on a cross, but in great power, by rising from the dead, by ascending on high, by sending His Spirit, by casting out the nation which had rejected Him because He claimed to be the Head of all nations? But where has been the faith that He has actually established the Kingdom of Heaven on earth, that He has actually avenged the widow who cried to Him of her adversary? The Church has believed to a certain extent in Jesus as its own King. Has it believed in Him as a Son of Man—as the King of Men? And what kind of unity has it been able to maintain under Him as its own King, whilst it has lost sight of Him as the universal King? Inevitably, it has set up a mortal king as a substitute for Him, or has been rent into a multitude of sects, with no real Head at all. The Son of Man has come, and has not found faith on the earth.
II. The next parable helps us to understand why that faith has been so partial, and who have cherished it.
‘And he spake this parable unto certain which trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner. I tell you this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.’
No new sense can be found for this story or parable. The old sense is the true one. The Pharisee is he who is satisfied with himself, who thinks himself above his fellows. The publican is he who is dissatisfied with himself, who thinks himself below his fellows. The Pharisee has no bonds from which he needs to be delivered; he thanks God for what he is. The publican finds his sins a heavy burden; he cries for mercy to free him. The one goes empty away. The one who wants mercy finds it. Nothing can be added to this common, generally admitted, interpretation. But we may gain much by connecting this parable with the passage which precedes it and that which follows it. The Pharisee cannot put faith in a Son of Man, for he wishes to be separated from men. He cannot see that the Son of Man is his avenger; of what adversary is he to be avenged? There is an Avenger for the publican, he sees that his own sin is his enemy. He goes down to his house justified, because he has had a glimpse of a Son of Man who is on his side, who is stronger than his enemy. When the Son of Man is manifested to the world, this conscious sinner can hail Him—can say, ‘Here is the Lord I have waited for.’ This parable shows at least one main part of the reason why the Son of Man has not found faith on earth, and sets before us one class of persons who have clung to Him in all periods.
III. But it has been found possible to change the publican into the Pharisee. Incredible as it seems, we may become proud of our consciousness that we are sinners. We may thank God that we are not as other men, who have not that consciousness. We may use it to destroy faith in the Son of Man. ‘He has come to save us who feel our sin, who cry “Be merciful to us.” We are in His kingdom; over the rest He does not reign.’ Of all kinds of exclusiveness and unbelief this has been, and is, the subtlest. It has assumed the most various shapes, adapting itself to the different modes of thought which have prevailed in Christendom; nowhere has it been absent; it has been most rampant after strong awakenings of men to the sense of guilt, after fervent confessions of the need of One who can save to the uttermost. When that tide begins to ebb the deposit is this pride of the publican, this self-satisfaction in the discovery which was made to us, that we have nothing of our own, that we can only exist by giving up ourselves.
The next incident which is recorded was at the time, and has been in all ages since, the most effectual protest against this denial of Christ’s dominion.
‘And they brought unto him also infants, that he would touch them: but when his disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them unto him, and said, Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.’
The disciples might have a reasonable excuse for repulsing the mothers of these children. They knew perhaps that it was the habit of women in that land to bring infants to an enchanter, that he might, by his word, or his touch, work a charm on them, which would drive off some disease, or secure them against disease. Their Master was no such enchanter; let not these ignorant people fancy that He was. So far well. A desire to honour the truthfulness of Jesus may have been mixed with their severity. But there mixed with it another element; one of pride in themselves, not of reverence to Him. ‘We are men; we can understand His parables; we can listen to His commands; what can these infants do?’ Here is that vanity of consciousness to which I referred just now; the secret thought—’ He is our King because we are capable of choosing Him as our King. He has come to save us who are so good or so fortunate as to accept Him.’ Bring out the thought clearly, and the conscience of those who confess a Christ shrinks from it; but it is not brought out clearly; it puts on cunning disguises. The simple words, ‘Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God,’ have done more to strip off the disguises than all arguments. They have been owned as royal words. ‘These children are ’Mine. Whatever you may think of them, I claim them. For your faith does not make Me your Lord. ’You do not elect me to be a Sovereign. If I am not ’King over children, I am not King over men. If you do not receive Me as children, because you are weak, because you cannot depend on yourselves, your faith is a contradiction. You do not mean what you say when you ask me to be merciful to you as sinners. That prayer is a petition to be treated as children; to be guided by the Divine Spirit because you cannot guide yourselves.’ It is on this ground, my friends, and not on any school reasonings, that the Church rests her Infant Baptism. Those who object to us for treating it as a charm should be listened to with all respect. That is a great offence against Christ. But this Baptism has been a witness for the Son of Man and the universality of His kingdom, like no other. It has taught parents that to bring children into the world is not a horrible crime. It has led them to see Christ and His redemption of humanity through all the mists of our teachings and our qualifications. It has explained the nature of His Kingdom to the hearts of the poorest. Christ has preached at the fonts, when we have been darkening counsel in pulpits. On that subject the next story is a lucid commentary.
IV. ‘And a certain ruler asked him, saying, Good Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? none is good, save one, that is God. Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honour thy father and thy mother. And he said, All these have I kept from my youth up. Now when Jesus heard these things, he said unto him, Yet lackest thou one thing: sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow me. And when he heard this, he was very sorrowful: for he was very rich.’
This young ruler has heard that Jesus is proclaiming eternal life to His disciples. That is what he wants. He could make great sacrifices to obtain that. He is stopped at the threshold of his inquiry. He has called Jesus ‘Good Master.’ Mere ordinary words; a civil salutation. Is that word ‘good’ an ordinary word? May it be used in a mere civil salutation? Good—does not that describe God Himself? Is there any one good but He? A wonderful thought to be suggested to an ardent young man trained in Jewish lore, looking hither and thither for eternal life! What! has not God spoken to your fathers? Is not He the Good? Is there any life eternal but His life?
The lesson is pursued. Has not this good God given you a law—that in which Psalmists and Prophets delighted to meditate? Has not He told you not to commit adultery, not to kill, not to steal? What humiliating doctrine! Why, these commands the young man has kept from his youth up: these the most ordinary people might keep. That obedience cannot purchase the transcendent blessing he is in search of. Well! let him try this course then. Let him sell all that he has, give to the poor and follow Christ. Is he willing to do that? Not quite. Have the words, then, no effect? Yes, a very great effect. He goes away sorrowful. What is so good for him or for any man as to be found out; to be shown what his professions are worth; to understand what he is clinging to and cannot part with? This young man may have been one of the disciples who did afterwards sell all that they had, and distribute to those who had need. But before he could do that he had to learn what treasure in heaven meant, and what keeping the commandments meant. That the one is not a selfish prize, but a common inheritance; that dutiful, thankful obedience to a good God who watches over the life of His creatures, their marriage bonds, their property, is not an easy or ignominious service, but one involving the highest blessing—a participation in His Nature. Giving to the poor! that would no doubt have been a great thing if he could have done it. But whilst he was exulting in the thought of his difference from the poor, whilst he was wishing to bargain for God’s treasures—giving much, though not all, to secure them—what was his giving worth? He was a rich man; he had not yet discovered that to be a man was more than to be rich. Is not that the explanation of the next passage, which caused so much astonishment to the disciples, and has caused so much to all ages since?
V. ‘And when Jesus saw that he was very sorrowful, he said, How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God! For it is easier for a camel to go through a needle’s eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.’
Our Lord does not say that it is hard for a rich man to be religious, or to pursue the rewards of a future state, though that construction has often been put upon the sentence. He says it is hard for him to enter into the Kingdom of God; hard for him to take his station among other men; hard for him not to value himself on those things which lift him above his fellows; hard for him to become like the publican or the little child; hard for him to think not of what he has or may have, but of Him who is, and how he may know Him and be like Him. This is that passage of the camel through the eye of the needle, that entrance of the giant into the dwarf’s cave, which is so difficult. And yet how can the Son of Man be acknowledged, how can the King of Men be seen in Him who humbled himself to the lowest estate, if the rich man does not feel himself on the level of the poorest, if his humanity is not that which is most precious to him?
VI. ‘And they that heard it said, Who then can be saved?’ Surely a most natural question, full of profound interest and admitting but of one answer—that being, however, an all-sufficient answer. ‘And he said, The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.’ To be saved from this self-exaltation, this inhumanity, is indeed impossible by any efforts of men, by any precepts of men, by any conventions of society. But God, who has appointed riches for men, who has intended that one man should have what another is without, who has organised Society on the law of mutual dependency and charity, does not leave rich men, any more than poor men, to be the victims of their circumstances. He awakens a hunger and thirst in them which nothing but His righteousness will appease. By a thousand methods of gracious discipline He makes them feel that the sorrows which cause the beggar’s heart to ache are those which cause the rich man’s heart to ache; that the sky and the air which they and the poorest share together are more than what they possess and the other wants; that the trees which their fathers planted were not planted for them; that the country which their fathers fought for and died for is worth more than any other inheritance they have bequeathed; that God is the peasant’s God as well as theirs. So the camel is made to pass through the needle’s eye; the rich man does enter into the Kingdom of God.
VII. The words, ‘Who then can be saved?’ indicated awe and humility on the part of the poor fishermen. But soon came the reaction of pride; their sense of being better than other men. ‘Then Peter said, Lo, we have left all and followed thee.’ We do not need the blunt question which is given by another Evangelist, ‘What shall we have, therefore,’ to perceive that the bargaining spirit of the ruler was working in the Apostle; that he thought the service of his Master was one which entitled him to large pay; that according to his notion of justice the amount of the reward should be proportioned to the amount of the sacrifice. This sense of justice, be it never so rude, never so mixed with the feelings of a hireling, never so inconsistent with the cry, ‘Be merciful to me, a sinner,’ is not repulsed by Christ. Peter is not exaggerating the blessings to which he has been called, the blessings which are to compensate the loss of his nets and his trade; he is greatly underrating them.
‘And he said unto them, ’Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or parents, or brethren, or wife, or children, for the kingdom of God’s sake, who shall not receive manifold more in this present time, and in the world to come life everlasting.’
To know what the Kingdom of God was, to be the herald of it to the world, was to learn the very meaning of kinsfolk and country, to have a glimpse of the glories of God’s universe, to see the earth with clearer, brighter eyes. There was manifold more’ in this present time. And that because above all, and beneath all, was the Eternal Life, the Life of Him who is, and was, and is to come—the Life which depended on no circumstances, which was affected by no changes, which would reveal itself fully in the world or age to come.
VIII. But then follows the correction of Peter’s selfish calculations.
‘Then he took unto him the twelve, and said unto them, Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, and all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of man shall be accomplished. For he shall be delivered unto the Gentiles, and shall be mocked, and spitefully entreated, and spitted on: And they shall scourge him, and put him to death: and the third day he shall rise again.’
We are going up to Jerusalem. Now, then, is the moment in which you think you may have the rewards of your service. Now you expect that the Son of David will take His crown and dispense His honours. Hear what that crown will be; what honours are likely to await His ministers. All that you have read in the Prophets of the sufferings which they underwent in their day will be gathered up in the Son of Man whom they longed for. It is not only your countrymen who will heap scorn on their native ruler. They will call in the Gentiles to help them. He will be scourged. Yes! and He will die. There will be no heavenly powers to deliver Him. But He will rise out of death. It is the way to His Kingdom.
IX. Strange comfort this for men who had left all and followed Christ, and were wondering how much better they should fare than the rich man for having done so! ‘And they understood none of these things: and this saying was hid from them, neither knew they the things which were spoken. And it came to pass, that as he was come nigh unto Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the wayside begging: and hearing the multitude pass by, he asked what it meant. And they told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by. And he cried, saying, Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me. And they which went before rebuked him, that he should hold his peace: but he cried so much the more, Thou son of David, have mercy on me. And Jesus stood, and commanded him to be brought unto him: and when he was come near, he asked him, saying, What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee? And he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight. And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight: thy faith hath saved thee. And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying God: and all the people, when they saw it, gave praise unto God.’
Here was a practical lesson. This blind beggar discovered what a Son of David, a true King of Men, must be; one who can feel with his subjects, suffer with them, deliver them out of their plagues and torments. He had an adversary which hindered him from exercising the powers and privileges of a man. He had cried, and had found the avenger, the friend of His race—the one who could help the meanest member of it. Thus in that age, thus in every age, has the Son of Man been revealed to those whom He is not ashamed to call His brethren. Thus do publicans, children, beggars, find out His signs, and are led by Him to the Father from whom He has come, while the rich, who wish to buy the treasures of the Kingdom of Heaven, go away sorrowful—whilst His disciples, looking for the pay of hirelings, understand nothing of His death or His resurrection. The rich ruler and the proud disciples, if they were brought to the level of the publican, the children, the beggar, might claim His Death and Resurrection with them—might enter into the same Eternal Life.