Gradually they were reaching the end of their journey. They met with no persecution during this last stretch. Indeed, they rather saw how some of the seeds, although mingled with weeds, had taken root. They reached the last hills after a night in which they had encamped under sycamore and fig trees. Jesus was walking in front. Although He was exhausted with the long wandering, and His feet almost refused their office, He still walked on ahead. The disciples came behind, and when they reached the top of the hill they gave a great cry. There opposite them on the tableland of the other hill lay the metropolis! In the morning sun it looked as if built of burnished gold, Solomon's Temple with its innumerable pinnacles overtopping everything.
Several of the disciples had never before been to Jerusalem, and a feeling of inspired reverence came over them at the sight of the Holy City of the kings and prophets. Here—so thought Judas and many another—here will the glory begin for us. They sat down under the olive-trees to rest and to put their clothes in order, while some even anointed their hair. Then they ate figs and the fruit of the currant bushes. But they were anxious about the Master. The exertions of the last few weeks had told on Him, and His feet were very sore. But He said nothing. The disciples agreed that they could not let this go on any longer. James went down the slope to where he saw some cottages, and asked if anyone had a riding horse or at least a camel on which a traveller could ride into the town. They would like to borrow it.
A little bent old man sidled up to the stranger and assured him with much eloquence that neither horse nor camel was to be had, but that there was an ass. Yet that ass was not to be had either.
Could the Messiah make His entry on an ass? No, we could not begin like that. Such was the disciple's first thought. Then it occurred to him that ancient prophets had foretold: He would make His entry on an ass. Whereupon James declared himself willing to take the ass.
"You may want him and I mayn't give him," said the old man with a cunning laugh. "If anything happened to this animal I should never get over it. It is no ordinary ass, my friend!"
"It is no ordinary rider who needs him," said James.
The little old man took the disciple to the stable. The animal stood by the manger, and was certainly of a good breed. It was not gray, but rather bright brown and smooth, with slender legs, pretty, sharp-pointed ears, and long whiskers round its big intelligent eyes.
"Isn't it the colour of a thoroughbred Arab?" said the old man.
"It's a beautiful creature," assented James. "Will you lend it for a silver piece and much honour? It can easily be back by noon."
To which the little old man replied: "It stands to reason that we can make something out of it during this time of visitors. Let us make it two silver pieces."
"One silver piece and honour!"
"Let us make it two silver pieces without honour," haggled the little old man. "A steed for princes, I tell you. In the whole of Judaea you won't find such another beauty! It is of noble descent, you must know."
"We can dispense with that honour," said James, "if only it does not stumble."
Then the old man related how in the year of Herod's massacre of the innocents—"a little over thirty years ago, I think—you must know that the Infant Messiah lay in a stable at Bethlehem with the ox and the ass. The child rode away into foreign lands, as far as Egypt, they say, on that very ass. And this ass is descended from that one."
"If that's so," said James brightly, "it's a marvellous coincidence!" And he whispered softly in the old man's ear: "The man who will enter Jerusalem to-day on that ass is the Messiah who was born in the stable."
"Is it Jesus of Nazareth?" asked the old man. "I will hire the animal to Him for half a silver piece. In return I shall implore Him to heal my wife, who has been rheumatic for years."
So they made their compact, and James led the ass up the mountain where they were all sitting together, unable to gaze long enough at Jerusalem. Only Jesus was wrapt in thought and looked gloomily at the shining town.
"Oh, Jerusalem!" He said softly to Himself. "If only thou wouldst heed this hour. If thou wouldst recognise wherein lies thy salvation. But thou dost not recognise it, and I foresee the day when cruel enemies will pull down thy walls so that not one stone remains upon another."
John placed his cloak on the animal, and Jesus mounted it. He rode down to the valley followed by His disciples.
And then an extraordinary thing happened. When they reached the valley of Kedron where the roads cross, people hurried up shouting: "The King is coming! The Son of David is coming!" Soon others ran out of the farms and the gardens, and kept alongside them at the edge of the road, shouting: "It is the Messiah! God be praised. He has come!"
No one knew who had spread the news of His arrival, or who first shouted the word Messiah. Perhaps it was Judas. It caught on like wildfire, awaking cries of acclamation everywhere. When Jesus rode up to the town, the crowd was so great that the ass could only pace slowly along, and after He had passed the town gate the streets and squares could scarcely contain the people. The whole of Jerusalem had suddenly become aware that the Prophet of Nazareth had come! Strangers from the provinces, who had already seen and heard Him in other places, pressed forward. Now that He entered the metropolis with head erect and the cry of the Messiah filling the air, people who had scorned the poor fugitive were proud of Him and boasted of meetings with Him, of His acquaintance. Hands were stretched out to Him. Many cast their garments on the ground for the ass to step on. They greeted Him with olive and palm branches, and from hundreds of throats sounded: "All hail to Thee! All hail to Thee! Welcome, Thou long-expected, eagerly desired Saviour!" The police, with their long staves, made a way through the streets that led to the golden house, to the king's palace. From all doors and windows they shouted: "Come into my house! Take shelter under my roof, Thou Saviour of the people!" The crowd poured forward to the palace. The disciples, who walked close behind Him and could scarcely control their agitation, were surrounded, overwhelmed, fanned with palm-leaves, pelted with rose-buds. Simon Peter had been recognised as soon as the Master, and could not prevent the people carrying him on their shoulders; but he bent down and implored them to set him on the ground, for he did not wish to be lifted higher than the Master, and he feared if they held him up like that over the heads of the others many would take him for the Messiah. John had managed better; bending down and breathing heavily, he led the animal, so that the people only took him for a donkey-driver. All the rest of the disciples enjoyed the Master's honours as their own. Had they not faithfully shared misery with Him!
"Jerusalem, thou art still Jerusalem!" they said, intoxicated and filled with the storm of exultation around Him. "However well it went with us, it has never gone so well as here in Jerusalem."
Judas could not congratulate himself enough that, despite the poor procession, the Master was recognised. "I always said He would work His miracle when the time came."
"Well, I am full of fears," said Thomas. "They shout far too loudly. The sounds come from the throat, not from the heart."
"Oh, take yourself off. You're always full of foreboding."
"I understand people a little. Idle townsfolk are easily pleased; they like to enjoy themselves, and any cause serves their turn."
"Thomas," said Matthew reprovingly, "It is not your humility that makes you heedless of the honour. It is doubt. See that fat shopkeeper there who brings more faith out of his throat. Listen! 'Hail to Thee, Son of David!' he shouts, and is already hoarse through his loud shrieks of joy."
Thomas did not answer. Stooping down in irritation, he hastened through the crowd. Cries of welcome filled the whole town, and the streets along which the procession took its way were like animated palm groves. All traffic was at a standstill, windows and roofs were filled with people, all stretching their necks to see the Messiah.
Jesus sat on the animal, both feet on the one side, holding the reins with His right hand. He looked calmly and earnestly in front of Him, just as if He was riding through the dust clouds of the wilderness. When the pinnacles of the royal castle towering above the roofs of the houses were in front of Him, He turned the animal into a side street, to the Temple square. Two guards at the entrance to the Temple signed violently with their arms to the crowd to go away, but the people remained standing there. The procession stopped, and Jesus got off the ass.
"He is not going to the palace, but to the Temple?" many asked in surprise. "To the Temple?"
"To the Rabbis and Pharisees? Then we'll see what we shall see."
Jesus, with serious determination, quickly ascended the steps of the Temple, without even glancing at the shouting people. A part of the crowd pressed after Him, the rest gradually dispersed. But the shout: "Praised be He who has come to-day!" never ceased the whole day.
When he entered the forecourt of the Temple and looked in. He stood still in dismay. It was full of life and movement. Hundreds of people of all kinds were tumbling over each other's heels, in gay-coloured coats, in hairy gowns, with tall caps and flat turbans. They were all offering goods for sale with cries and shrieks; there were spread out carpets, candlesticks, hanging lamps, pictures of the Temple and of the ark of the covenant, fruit, pottery, phylacteries, incense, silken garments, and jewels. Money-changers vaunted their high rate of exchange, the advantage of Roman money, broke open their rolls of gold and let the pieces fall slowly into the scales in order to delight the eyes of the pilgrims. Buyers made their way through, looked scornfully at the goods, haggled, laughed, and bought. Rabbis glided round in long caftans and soft shoes so that they were not heard. They wore velvet caps on their heads below which hung their curly black or grey hair. They carried large parchment scrolls under their arms—for the Sabbath was about to begin—slipped around with a dignified yet cunning manner, bargained here and there with shopkeepers or their wives, vanished behind the curtains and then reappeared.
When Jesus had for some time observed all this confusion from the threshold, anger overcame Him. Pushing the traders aside with His arms, He cut Himself a way through. At the nearest booth He snatched up a bundle of phylacteries, swung them over the heads of the crowd, and exclaimed so loudly that His voice was heard above everything: "Ye learned teachers and ye Temple guards, see how admirably you understand the letter of the Word! It is written in the Scriptures: My house is for prayer! And you have turned Solomon's Temple into a bazaar!" Hardly had He so spoken when He overturned a table with His hand, and upset several benches with His foot so that the goods fell in confusion to the ground under the feet of the crowd which began to give way. They stared at one another speechless, and He continued to thunder forth: "My house shall be a holy refuge for the downcast and the suffering, said the Lord. And you make it a den of assassins, and, with your passion for lucre, leave no place for men's souls. Out with you, ye cheats and thieves, whether you higgle over your goods or with the Scriptures!" He swung the phylacteries high over the Rabbis and teachers so that they bent their heads and fled through the curtained entrances. But the Rabbis, the Pharisees, and the Temple guards assembled in the side courts, and quickly took counsel how they were to seize this madman and render Him harmless. For see, ever more people streamed through the gates into the forecourt, surrounded the angry Prophet, and shouted: "Praised be Thou, O Nazarene, who art come to cleanse the Temple! Praise and all hail to Thee, long-looked-for Saviour!"
When the Rabbis saw how things were going, they too raised their voices and shouted: "Praised be the Prophet! Hail to thee, O Nazarene!"
"All is won!" whispered the disciples, crowding up together. "Even the Rabbis shout!"
The Rabbis, however, had quickly sent for the police; they came up to Jesus and, as soon as the crowd became quieter, entered into conversation with Him.
"Master," said one of them, "truly you appear at the right time. The condition of our poor people is such that we know not which way to turn. You are the man who turns aside neither to right nor left, but who keeps in the straight path of justice. Tell us what you think: Shall we Jews pay taxes to the Roman Emperor or shall we refuse?"
Jesus saw what they were driving at, and asked to be shown a coin. They were surprised that He had no money in His pockets, and handed Him one of the Roman coins current in the country.
"From whom do these coins come?" He asked.
"As you see, from the Roman Emperor."
"And whose picture is on the coin?"
"The Emperor's."
"And whose is the inscription on the coin?"
"The Emperor's."
"Whose is the coin?"
They were silent.
Jesus said: "Render unto God what comes from Him, and unto Caesar what comes from Caesar."
Those who saw through the case broke out into applause and shouting over the decision, and carried the crowd with them. The Rabbis were secretly furious that He had escaped their cunning snare. They had reckoned: If He says, Pay taxes to the Roman Emperor, the people will know that He is not the Messiah but rather a servant of the foreigner. And if He says, Do not pay taxes to the Emperor, He is a demagogue, and will be taken prisoner. But now He has both Emperor and people on His side, and we must let Him alone.
"Everything is going splendidly," the disciples whispered. "They ask His advice, they will do nothing without Him."
The interpreters of the Law had got Him in their midst, and could not rest till they outwitted Him. So one of them asked Him: "Oh, man of great wisdom, do you believe that there will be a resurrection of the dead?"
"There will be," He answered.
"That marriage between man and woman is indissoluble, and that a woman may only have one husband at a time?"
"That is so."
"And that after the death of one the other may marry again?"
"It is so."
"You are right, sir," interposed a third speaker. "But suppose a woman had seven husbands one after another because they died one after another. If they all rise from the dead the woman would have seven husbands at once, each is her lawful husband, and yet she may only have one."
There was immense eagerness to hear what He would say, for the problem seemed insoluble. And Jesus said: "He who asks that question knows neither the Scriptures nor the power of God. The Scriptures promise us resurrection, and the power of God the eternal life of the soul. There is no marriage between souls, so the question falls to the ground."
There was fresh shouting and applause, and kerchiefs were waved from all sides. The teachers of the Law drew back in ill-humour, and dismissed the police who were waiting in the back court.
After the excellent reception in Jerusalem, and the victory in the Temple on the first day, the disciples ventured to walk about the city fearlessly and openly. Jesus remained grave and silent. They put up in a quiet inn by the gate. The disciples did not see why He should not have lodged them in a palace. They would have liked occasionally to accept the invitation of rich people, and enjoy the homage that would be paid them, but Jesus would not permit it. The festival of the Passover was at hand; there was something else to do than to be fêted and have their heads turned, they would soon need to have their heads very cool. If He accepted any of the invitations it would be the one from Bethany, where He knew He had truer friends than in Jerusalem. But meanwhile He had something more to say in the Temple.
When He went there the next day the hall was filled to overflowing with people, Rabbis, and expounders of the Law. Some had come in order to witness His glorification, others to try and ruin Him.
One of the Pharisees came up to Him and asked Him without any preliminaries which was the greatest commandment.
Jesus ascended the pulpit and said; "I have just been asked which is the greatest commandment. Now, I am not come to give new commandments, but to fulfil the old ones. The greatest commandment is: Love God above all, and thy neighbour as thyself. Those who asked Me, your teachers and interpreters of the Law, say the same, but their actions do not square with their words. You may believe their words, but you must not imitate their deeds. They exact the uttermost from you, but do not themselves stir a finger. And what good they do, is done in the eyes of the people, so that they may win praise. They like to take the first place at festivals, and to be greeted on all sides as the expounders of Holy Writ. That honour they do not offer to God, but to themselves. I tell you he who exalts himself will be cast down."
Some of the Pharisees interrupted Him and contradicted Him. He turned to them face to face, and in a louder voice said: "Yes, you expounders of Holy Writ, you seek to shine outwardly. You keep your vessels clean on the outside, and your wool soft, but inside you are full of wickedness and lust of plunder. Ye who sit in the seats of learning and preach morals are like tombs adorned with flowers outside, but full of corruption inside. You despise the fathers because they persecuted the prophets; while you yourselves kill the prophets whom the Lord sends to-day, or else suffer them to be contemned. And when they are dead you build them fine tombs. Cursed be ye, ye hypocrites! You forbid others to be the heralds of salvation; you even stone them. You will not go yourselves into the Kingdom of Heaven, and you keep out those who wish to go in. Cursed be ye, ye, with your semblance of holiness, who take to yourselves the houses of widows and the property of orphans under the pretence of love! Ye fools and blind guides who lead the people to petty, unimportant things, to outward observances and customs, instead of to the important things—to justice, to mercy, and to love! That is as wise as to strain out the gnat and swallow the camel. Ye snakes and vipers! Be ye cursed eternally! Even if God sent His Son you would crucify Him, and would pretend you did it for the sake of the people because He was a traitor. But know that you will have to pay for the blood of the heaven-sent Messenger! The time is not far off when the blood of your children will flow in streams through the streets of Jerusalem!"
While Jesus was speaking His disciples trembled. They had never seen Him so consumed with anger. But it was too soon! He had no army to protect Him if they should attack Him. The crowd was immensely excited, and the applause grew to a storm. Many screamed with delight that such words were at last spoken; others looked threateningly at the Pharisees. They—the Rabbis and Pharisees—had all kinds of excuses ready against the terrible accusations, but it seemed to them wiser not to honour the outbreak of this "seeker of the people's favour" with any answer, and to leave the Temple at once, unnoticed, by the back entrances.
The broad square in front of the Temple was a sea of heads. As many persons as possible had pushed their way in, but the greater number surrounded the enormous building, and shouted incessantly: "We, too, want to hear Him! Let Him come out and preach in the open air so that we may see Him. Hail to the Messiah King! He shall reign in the golden palace and in Solomon's glorious Temple!"
When Jesus stepped out of the Temple into the confusion. He heard the shouts, and mounted the plinth of one of the immense pillars that surrounded the building. Here again He spoke. Looking at the city He hurled these words at the crowd:
"You boast of your glorious Temple! I tell you that not one stone of this building shall remain on the other. For you have heaped up crime upon crime. I find none of you thirsty, but you are all the worse for drinking. The cup is full, and the present generation shall know it. When desolation comes over the land, then let him who is in the valley flee to the mountain, and let him who is in the field not return into the city, and let him who is on the roof not come down, in order to fetch his coat from the house. Fire and sword will meet him. Woe to the women and children in those days: they will cry. Mountains fall on us and crush us. It will be a wailing and lamentation such as has never before been under the sun, and never will be again. Unappeasable anger will overtake the people, Jerusalem will be destroyed, and its inhabitants be led into captivity by strange nations. And men will be judged according to their good or evil deed. Of two who are in the field one will be accepted, the other cast out. Of two who lie in the same bed one will be heard, the other ignored. The grain shall be gathered in the barns, the weeds shall be burnt in the fire."
These words caused some murmuring in the crowd, and one of the disciples wrung his hands in despair: "There will be trouble over this!"
Then His tone became gentler; "But do not despair; the days of that misery shall be shortened. I will pray for it. Where there is carrion there are eagles, and from the nation of sinners shall arise martyrs of the truth of God. As the trees blossom and sprout after the hard winter, so shall the Kingdom of Heaven blossom forth from the purified people. For the glad tidings will penetrate through the whole universe, and happy will be the nations which accept it."
"Heaven upon earth?" asked someone from the swaying crowd. Jesus answered: "Not your heaven upon earth! Not that! For the earth is too weak to bear heaven. The earth is doomed, and of that doom the downfall of Jerusalem is but a parable. In that day much distress will come. False prophets will come and say, We are the saviours of the world! Their spirit and their truth will blind the people, but it will not be the Holy Spirit or the eternal truth. A great weariness and despair will come over men's souls, and they will long for death. And as men gradually lose their light, their reason, so will the stars in the sky be extinguished; the sea will cover the land, and the mountains be sunk in the sea. But the fiery token of the Son of God will appear in the dark sky."
"What is the token?" asked one of the grey-bearded Rabbis.
"He who has eyes will soon see the token of the Lord's judgment high on Golgotha. His angels will announce Him in the air, but not in His lowliness as at Bethlehem. He will come in all the strength and glory in which He sits at the right hand of the Father. And He will restore every soul to its body, and reward the faithful with eternal joy, and the unbelieving with everlasting punishment."
With terrified countenances and whispered words the people asked: "When will this happen?"
"Watch, my children! God alone knows the day and hour. This world is passing, as you see, hour by hour. Everything changes; only the word of the Father shall endure for ever."
This speech of the Prophet made a deep impression on the people. They no longer shouted or rejoiced; they no longer looked on His countenance as gladly as the day before, the glowing eyes burnt with such terrible anger. They became silent, or only whispered to each other. Did you understand? one asked his neighbour quietly. Yes, they had all understood, but each something different. They were all impressed with the words; every one was moved; and groups of people, as they made their way out, talked over the Prophet's speech, and many began to dispute about it.
"I don't expect much from this Messiah," said an innkeeper to his guests. "As far as I can see, He promises more ill than good. If He can offer nothing better than the destruction of Jerusalem and the Last Judgment, He might just as well have stayed at home at Nazareth."
"No, I've never taken much account of the Last Judgment," said a dealer in skins from Jericho.
"It's quite true," shouted a tailor, "nothing good comes from Galilee!"
"Nor from Judaea," laughed an unpatriotic tailor from Joppa. "I can tell you I expect nothing until we have expelled all our Jewish princes and Rabbis and become Romans out and out. The Emperor of Rome is the true Messiah. All the rest should be impaled."
So they gave vent to their various opinions. The Temple authorities rubbed their hands in satisfaction. "He is not clever enough to be dangerous. He will hardly come within the arm of the law after what He has said."
"But the people will judge Him," said one of the oldest among them, "the people themselves. Mark that! I promise you they will."
"No, indeed. He is not a man of fair words," said one of the overseers. "He does not flatter the mob, and my contempt for the Nazarene is less than it was yesterday. If He falls in the eyes of the people, He rises in mine."
"The man makes me think that He will soon give Himself up. Did you hear His allusion to Golgotha?"
"Bless my soul, a famous prophet has got to be right in something," mocked one of the high priests. "I think we ought to confer with the authorities so as to prevent any disturbance to-morrow at the festival. You understand me?"
"That's worth consideration with all this concourse of people."
"I think he has poured enough water on the fire," said the high priest. "No one would stir a finger if we took Him."
"Let's wait till the festival is over. You can never be sure of the mob."
"What! After laying traps for Him all over the country, are we to let Him insult us here in the Temple itself? No, I don't fear the mob any more. The law is more hazardous."
The little town of Bethany was situated in a narrow valley at the foot of the Mount of Olives. There was a large house there belonging to a man who had been ill for many years; formerly he had been filled with despair, but since he had become an adherent of the Nazarene, he was resigned and cheerful. His incurable disease became almost a blessing, for it destroyed all disquieting worldly desires and hopes, and also all fears. In peaceful seclusion he gave up his heart to the Kingdom of God. When he sat in his garden and looked out over the quiet working of Nature, he hardly remembered that he was ill. He was so entirely imbued with the happiness of life in the Kingdom of Heaven, and his prayers were full of gratitude that death could not destroy such a life, since it was immortal, and would be carried into eternity with the immortal soul.
Two of the inmates of his house were at one with him in this. Magdalen, his wife's sister, the fallen woman of Magdala, lived with them since she had been obliged to part from the Master. Now she heard with a fearful joy that Jesus was in Jerusalem. Her brother, Lazarus, was in still greater excitement about it. The youth declared that the Master had accomplished the greatest thing of all in regard to him. He could not talk about it enough, and was irritated if they did not receive his tale as the very newest thing, although it had happened months before, when Jesus had been in the wilderness of Judaea. They had marvelled at the event beyond all measure, but when the great miracle came to be related every day, it got commonplace. "Just let one of you experience what dying is like," Lazarus would often exclaim, interrupting a lively conversation. "When you lie there and turn cold, they put on a shroud, tie a kerchief round your head, stretch you out on a board, and lament that you are dead. You are dead, but it isn't quite what you thought. You know about it; you are there when they put you into the sack, carry you to the grave, and rend their garments for grief. You are there when your body is buried in the damp, everlasting darkness, and begins to mingle with the earth. Your poor soul gathers itself together to utter a cry for help, but your breast is dead, your throat is dead. And in this agony of death, which never ceases, a man comes by, lays his hand on your head, and says, 'Lazarus, get up!' and your pulse begins to beat, and your limbs grow warm again, and you get up and live! And live! Do you know what it means—live?"
Then Magdalen would go to her brother and calm him, telling him that it was a great thing to awake a dead body to life, but a still greater thing to bring a dead soul to life!
Now this family of Bethany had sent to Jerusalem and invited the Master to go to their house with two of His travelling companions in order that He might repose Himself after His long wanderings in homelike security. Jesus thought it was time to leave the city for a little, and accepted the invitation. His disciples were sorry. They each desired some hospitable house in order that after so long a time of hardship they might once again be glad with the Master; they thought that was only reasonable, considering His victory. When the disciples found that only two of them could go with Him, they were distressed, for all had been obliged to share the hard times with Him.
"Have you ever lacked anything with Me?" He asked. "Have you suffered want?"
"No, Lord, never!" For by His side they had never felt want. The Master rejoiced over their disinterestedness, and the ten decided that the youngest and the oldest should go with Him, as was only fair. So John and Simon Peter were chosen. The rest found lodging with citizens of the town. Joseph of Arimathea, who had property round Jerusalem, received some of the disciples. There was the rich Simeon, who had once ridden out into the wilderness to gain eternal life, and had nearly lost his mortal life. Since then he had changed his opinion about the value of great possessions; at least, he let the needy share them, and he received some of the disciples. James had business in Bethpage, on the farther slope of the Mount of Olives, where he had hired the ass. He took Andrew with him. The animal had been sent back, but had not yet been paid for. The little old man came to meet them in most friendly fashion. He was proud beyond everything that his noble brown ass had had so great an honour. He had himself been in the city, and had heard how the Prophet reproved the Pharisees in the Temple. That was the finest day of his life. If the Master would only come and heal his wife of her rheumatism, he would be converted.
That was a good thing, said James, because they hadn't any money with which to pay him. The little old man whistled in surprise. He saw now that people were right when they set no store by men of Galilee.
In order to save their countrymen's honour, they offered to work in the garden until they had fully paid the debt. So both the disciples set to digging, and thought, perhaps, of the parable of the labourers in the vineyard. Then they discussed the events in Jerusalem, and how they would rather be ministers of the Messiah in the golden palace than doing such hard work here.
When Jesus with John and Peter reached Bethany, their host Amon had himself pushed in his wheeled chair to meet them, and called to his wife, Martha, to make haste and come and pay her respects to the guests. She had, she said, no time for that; she had things to look after, in the parlour, the dining-room, everywhere, to see that all was in order, if need be to lend a helping hand herself. The children of the servants were playing about in the courtyard, and a contented, homelike feeling pervaded everything. Suddenly the slender form of Lazarus hurried up, and lay down at the Master's feet. He recognised him, and said: "Lazarus, you have your life in order to stand upright." The youth got up. And then, hesitating and half afraid, Magdalen approached. He greeted her in silence.
She, too, said nothing. But when they were at table she knelt before Him, and anointed His feet. She dried them with her hair and wept. The pleasant odour of the oil filled the room, and Peter whispered to his neighbour: "Such ointment must cost a mint of money! If she had given it to the poor, He would have been better pleased."
Jesus heard what he said. "What is wrong, Peter? She is kind to Me so long as I am here. When I'm no longer with you, you'll still have the poor. She has shown Me a mark of love that will never be forgotten."
Peter was ashamed, and said softly to his neighbours: "He is right. It often happens that people leave a good deed undone, and say, 'We'll give something, therefore, to the poor.' That's what they say, but they do neither one nor the other. He is right."
They ate and drank amid the pleasant, homely surroundings, and were very cheerful. Magdalen wanted to sit quite at the lower end of the table, but the Master desired her to sit on His right hand. Her enthusiastic glance hung on His face, and it seemed as if she drank from His mouth every word which He spoke. Jesus was indefatigable in narrating legends and parables, every one of which contained some great thought. If He dealt harshly with human foolishness before the people, He treated it as earnestly now, but with a warm sympathy that went to the hearts of all His hearers. The invalid host was delighted, and signed to his wife to listen to the Master's words. But Martha was continually occupied in looking after the various courses and dishes, in seeing that everything was as perfect as possible, and in serving her guests. She was vexed with her sister Magdalen who sat there by His side, and troubled herself about nothing. When she again brought in a dish, Jesus put His hand gently on her arm, and said; "Martha, how busy you are. Do leave off for a little, and come and sit down. We've had more than enough with all these dainties, and you bring us still more. Copy your sister; she has chosen the better part—spiritual food instead of bodily."
So Martha sat down, and she too watched His mouth, but less for the sake of what He said than to see how He liked the food. He observed this, and said with a smile, "Everyone is kind in his own way." And He continued to reveal in attractive fashion the secrets of the Kingdom of Heaven. But Martha always interrupted Him with remarks on the dishes, or with orders to the servants, until Jesus became almost annoyed, and said sharply: "Know you not that I will give you food? The soul is the one thing needful."
Then they also spoke of the day's proceedings, and Amon congratulated Him prettily on the great victory at Jerusalem.
"Do you call that a victory?" asked Jesus. "Amon, do you know men so little? They see in Me the Messiah King who will conquer the Empire to-morrow. They, blind creatures, they have no idea of My Kingdom. They are pleased with words that destroy, they do not want to hear words that build up. It's an empty-headed people that can only be roused by need and oppression. But they will be aroused."
After dinner He lay down on cushions, the softest that Martha could find in the house. Young John's curly head lay on His breast, Magdalen sat at His feet. Peter lay near by on a carpet; a little farther off sat Amon in his wheeled chair, with Martha stroking his white hair. John was particularly happy to-day. He had never seen the Master so calm and gentle. Yet something depressed the disciple. At the above remark about the people he observed: "Master, if they knew how deeply you loved them."
"They ought to know it."
"But they cannot know it from the way in which you speak to them."
"The way in which I speak to them?" said Jesus, and stroked the disciple's soft hair. "That is just My John all over. He cannot understand that you do not stroke buffaloes with peacocks' feathers. I'm too hard on these hypocrites, these obdurate, indifferent men, am I? When I disappoint those who would extract daily profit from Me in the form of miracles, when I lay bare the carefully-concealed thoughts of their hearts, then I am hard. And when I shatter their childish love of the world, their craving for vanities, then I am hard. And when they strut about with their condemnations and their hard-heartedness, trampling the weak underfoot out of greed and malice, haughty as the heathens who bring human sacrifices to their gods, I would fain chastise them with a lash of scorpions. But when the forsaken come to Me, and penitent sinners trustfully seek refuge with Me, then, John, I am not hard."
The voices of children playing in the courtyard sounded through the open windows. Jesus turned to His hostess and said: "Martha! You have excellently entertained Me in your house. Will you give Me yet another treat?"
"What is it, Master? I would leave no wish of yours ungratified."
"The little ones—let them come in."
"Ah! my poor boy will cry his eyes out that he wasn't here to-day. Dear lad, he's in Jerusalem."
"God be his guard! Let those who are playing in the courtyard come up."
They came shyly in at the door, two dark little girls, and a fair boy, who carried a carved wood camel in his hand. When Jesus spread out His arms, they went to Him, and were soon at home, holding up their little red mouths, in which He put fruit from the table. Peter, who would have liked to sleep a little, was not particularly pleased with the little guests, but was glad that the Master petted them and joked with them.
Then Jesus said to the boy: "Benjamin, mount your camel, ride to that man over there, and ask him why he is so silent."
Peter accepted the invitation to join in the conversation, but he was not very happy in what he said. "Master," he said hesitatingly, "what I have to say is scarcely suited to this pleasant day."
Such remarks, said Martha humorously, were of the right sort to add to the cheerfulness of the company. Peter was not the man to keep a secret long. Turning to the Master, he said: "Early to-day, in the city, I heard some people talking. They're always doing you some injustice."
"What were they saying, Peter?"
"They said that the Prophet was a man of fair words, but that He did nothing. He never once healed the sick who came to Him from great distances."
"They say that?"
"Yes, sir, that's the kind of thing they say."
Jesus raised His head, and looked cheerfully round the circle. While He rocked one of the little girls on His knee, He said calmly: "So they say I only talk and do nothing. In their sense they are right. I don't pray, they mean, because they don't see Me do it. I don't fast, because we can't eat less than a little, except when we sit at a luxurious table like Martha's. I don't give alms because My purse is empty. What good do I do, then? I don't work, because in their eyes My work doesn't count. I don't work miracles on their bodies, because I am come to heal their souls. Amon, say, would you exchange the peace of your heart for sound legs?"
"Lord!" exclaimed Amon vivaciously, "if they say you do nothing good, just let them come to the house of old Amon at Bethany. You came under my roof, and my soul was healed."
"And you brought me resurrection and life," shouted Lazarus passionately from the other end of the room.
"And me, more than that," said Magdalen, looking up at Him with moist eyes. And then she bent down and kissed His feet.
And Peter exclaimed: "I was a mere worm, and He made me a man. He does more than all the Rabbis and physicians and generals put together."
Then John turned to him and asked: "Brother, why didn't you talk like that to the people in Jerusalem? Were you afraid of them?"
"Is yon man a coward?" asked the boy, pointing with his hand to Peter. "Then he'll help us to play lion and sheep in the courtyard!"
Jesus shook His head over such talk, and said: "No, My Peter is not a coward, but he is still somewhat unstable for a rock. No one who, at his age, can train himself for the Kingdom of God could be a weakling."
Martha, who had gone out to look after the supper, called into the room that the children's mother wanted them to go to her to read the Haggadah.
The little ones pulled long faces. "To read the Haggadah!" murmured the boy in a tone far too contemptuous of the holy Passover book.
"Don't you like to read about God, my child?" asked Jesus.
"No," replied the boy crossly.
John pinched his red cheek. "Naughty boy! Good boys always like to hear about God."
"But not always to read about Him!" said the little one. "The Haggadah tires me to death."
Then said Jesus: "He is of the unhappy ones for whom God is spoiled by the mere letter of the Word. Would you rather stay with Me, children, than go and read the Haggadah?"
"Yes, yes, we'll stay with you." And all three hung round His neck.
And Martha sought the mother and told her: "They are reading the Haggadah with six arms."
Two days were spent in this quiet, cheerful fashion. Then Jesus said to the disciples: "It is over; we must return to Jerusalem."
They were to spend the festival in the city, and James had hired a room in which the Master and His twelve faithful friends could solemnly celebrate the Passover. His disciples again gathered round Him; but they looked anxious. For they had had unpleasant experiences in their walks through the town. The mood of the people had entirely changed; they spoke little of the Messiah but rather of the demagogue and betrayer of the people, just in the same tone as had been used in Galilee. Only here the expressions were more forcible, and accompanied with threatening gestures. In front of the town gates, where there was a rocky hill, Thomas had watched two carpenters nailing crossbeams to long stakes. He asked what they were doing, and was told that criminals were impaled on the festival. Questioning them more closely, he learned that they were desert robbers.
"Desert robbers?" said a passer-by. "What are desert robbers? There are desert robbers every year. This time quite different people are to be hoisted up."
"Yes, if they're caught," said another. "His followers are burrowing somewhere in the city, but He Himself has flown. It's too absurd how the police seek everywhere, and can't find out where He is."
Thomas did not want to hear any more, and took himself off.
Judas heard similar things, only more plainly; it was quite clear that it was the Master who was meant. Things had gone as far as that! And all the enthusiasm had been false. The olive-branches and palm-leaves were not yet all trodden down, and they bore witness to the Messianic ecstasy of four days ago. And to-day? To-day the police were searching for Him! But wasn't it His own fault? To run into the jaws of your enemies, and to irritate and abuse them—to do no more than that! If He had only stirred a fold of His cloak to show who He was. Who believed that He had walked on the water: that He had brought the dead to life? They only laughed when such things were related. Why did He not do something now? Just one miracle, and we should be saved. Perhaps He is intentionally letting things come to the worst, so that His power may appear the more impressive. They will take Him and put Him in chains, lead Him out amid the joyful cries of the mob, and suddenly a troop of angels with fiery swords will come down from heaven, destroy the enemy, and the Messiah revealed will ascend the throne. That will happen, must happen. The sooner the better for all of us. How can it be hurried on? His indecision must be changed into determination. I wish they had Him already, so that we could celebrate a glorious Passover. Such were the thoughts of the disciple, Judas Iscariot. Sunk in deep reflection he walked through the streets that evening. The pinnacles and towers glowed in the dull red of the setting sun. He met several companies of soldiers: a captain stopped him and asked if he did not come from Galilee?
"I suppose you're asking about the Prophet," replied Judas; "no, I'm not He."
"But I'm certain you know about Him."
Judas drew a deep breath, as if he were on the point of saying something. But he said nothing, pursued his way, and came to the house where they were all gathered round the Master.
The room was large and gloomy. A single lamp was suspended over the large table, covered with a white cloth, that stood in the centre, around which they were already seated. The Master was so placed that the whole table could see Him. A large dish with the roasted Paschal lamb stood before Him. By its side were the Passover herbs in shallow bowls. On the table were other bowls, and the unleavened bread baked for the festival in remembrance of the manna eaten in the wilderness. Near the centre of the table was a beaker of red wine. They were silent or speaking in whispers, so that the steps of Judas, as he entered, echoed. He was almost terrified by the echo. Then he greeted them in silence with a low bow and sat down, just opposite John, who was at the Master's right hand, while Peter sat at His left.
There was solemn silence. Their first Passover in Jerusalem! Jesus took one of the unleavened cakes, broke it, and laid the pieces down. James divided the lamb into thirteen portions.
"We are thirteen at table," whispered Thaddeus to his neighbour Bartholomew. He was silent. They did not eat, but sat there in silence. The lamp flickered, and the reddish reflection hovered about the table. Then Jesus began to speak.
"Eat and drink. The hour approaches."
John placed his hand tenderly on His, and asked: "What do you mean, Lord, when you say, The hour approaches?"
"My friends," said Jesus, "you will not understand how what will happen this night can come to pass. They will come and condemn Me to death. I shall not flee, for it must be so. I have to bear testimony to the Father in heaven and of His tidings, and therefore I am ready to die. If I were not willing to die for My words, they would be like sand in the desert. If I were not willing to die, My friends would not be justified, and would doubt Me. A good shepherd must lay down his life for his flock."
"Master," said Thomas, and his voice trembled, "not when you live; only when you die, could we doubt you."
Then Jesus looked sadly round the circle, and said: "One among you doubts Me, though I live."
"What do you mean by that, Lord?" asked Judas.
Jesus said: "The Son of Man goes His appointed way. Yet it would be better for that man never to have been born. One of My own people will betray Me this night."
As if struck down by a heavy weight, they were silent for a moment. Then they exclaimed: "Who is it? Who is it?"
"One of the twelve who sits at this table."
"Master!" exclaimed Peter, "what causes that gloomy thought? No one is unfaithful."
Jesus said to him; "Yes, Simon Peter! And another at this table will deny Me before morning cockcrow."
They were silent, for they were all greatly afraid. After a while He continued speaking. "It must happen as the Father in His wisdom has determined. But the time of work begins for you. You will be My apostles, My ambassadors, who will travel over the world to tell all the nations what I have told you. You shall be the salt of humanity, and season it with wisdom. You shall be the yeast which causes it to ferment. To others I have said, Do the good work secretly; to you I say, Let your light shine forth as an example. Be wily as the serpent, and let not hypocrites deceive you; be like clever money-changers, who accept only good coins and refuse the false. Be without guile, like doves, and go forth, innocent as the sheep who go among wolves. If they have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you. Where you sow peace for others, there will be the sword for you. It will also come to pass that your message of peace will awake discord; one brother will dispute with the others, children will be against their parents, because some will be for Me and others against Me. But the time will come when they will be united, one flock under the care of one shepherd. Then there will be a great fire on earth, that of enthusiasm for the Spirit and for Love. Would it were already burning! Do not despair because, with your simplicity and want of eloquence, your ignorance of foreign tongues, you must travel in strange lands. The moment you have to speak, My Spirit will speak through you in burning eloquence. If you are silent, then the stones must speak, so vital is the word that must be spoken. You must speak to the lowly of the glad tidings; you must speak to the mighty who possess the power to kill your body, but not your soul. Days of temptation and persecution will come, I will not cease to implore the Father to stand by you. Be not cast down. If I did not now depart, the Spirit could not come to you. The visible is an enemy of the invisible. I have spoken to you much in parables, so that it may the better remain in your memory. I had still much to say to you; but My Spirit will speak to you, and He will make you understand more easily than when I spoke in parables. Upon you I build My Church; do you open the Kingdom of God to all who seek it. What you do on earth in My name will also hold good in heaven with the Father. And now I give you My peace as the world can never give it. I remain with you in My Spirit and My Love."
The great words were spoken. A solemn peace fell on their hearts. Judas went out. The rest sat on in silence and looked at the Master with unbounded affection. They could not understand what He had said, but they felt these were words before which the earth would tremble and the heavens bow down.
And now something extraordinary happened. It was not a miracle, it was more than a miracle. Jesus stood up, took a towel and a washing-bowl, knelt before each, and washed his feet. In their astonishment they offered no resistance. When He came to Peter, Peter said, "No, Master, you shall not wash my feet."
To which Jesus replied: "If I do not, then you are not Mine."
Said Peter: "If that is so, then wash my face and hands, too, O Lord! so that it may be evident how utterly I am yours."
Then Jesus said: "You call Me Lord, and yet I wash your feet. I do this so that you may know that among men there is no lord, that all are brethren who shall serve one another. See how I love you. No one can give a greater proof of his love than to die so that his friends may live. So I leave you this legacy: Brothers, love one another. As I love you, love one another."
John, overcome by those words, sank on his knees, and, sobbing, laid his head upon His bosom. And Jesus said once more: "Children, love one another."
Then He again sat down with them at the table. They were all silent. Jesus took bread in His hand, lifted it a little towards heaven that it might be blessed, and broke it in two. He handed the pieces to the right and left of Him, and said: "Take it and eat. It is My body that will be broken for you."
They took it. Then He took the beaker of wine, lifted it to heaven that it might be blessed, passed it round, and said: "Take it and drink. It is My blood that will be shed for you."
And when they had all drunk. He added: "Do this in remembrance of Me."