First, then, our Master

I. First, then, our Master, the Nazarene, was despised, and is despised even to this day.

He was despised, first, because in his person, his parentage, his state, his apparel, his language, his habits — there was nothing of grandeur, nothing of parade, nothing but what was simple, gentle, lowly. He rode once — but it was on a colt, the foal of an donkey. It was said, "Behold your king comes"; but his coming was meek and lowly. He might have been a king: he was very near being taken by force to be pushed up into a throne; but he withdrew himself, for he did not strive, nor cry, nor cause his voice to be heard in the streets. He was no popularity-hunter, or flatterer of the great. He was no man of confusion and strife, who sought to push himself forward and tread down others.

Those who opposed him were weak like bruised reeds; but he would not break them though he could have done it. They offended him with their weak arguments, for they were like a smoking flax to him; but he would not quench them. He left them for another day when he shall bring forth judgment unto victory.

I suppose, if we had seen the Savior, we would not have thought him "altogether lovely"; for his heavenly beauty was not of the kind that strikes the natural eye. Hence the impossibility of any painter ever being able to paint him, for though he must have been superlatively lovely, it must have been a beauty with which nobody would be charmed unless their eyes were opened to perceive the beauty of holiness. His was the loveliness of virtue, the charm of purity — and not that sensuous beauty which excites desire and kindles the passions of mankind. He was loveliness itself; but only to those who know what loveliness is.

About his dress, there was nothing remarkable. He wore the ordinary smock-frock of the country, a garment without seam, woven from the top throughout: a very serviceable, useful piece of work-day apparel — but possessing nothing in it of official dignity, or princely richness, to distinguish him from an ordinary person.

As for the place where he lived, it was no bishop's palace, nor even an ordinary house; for he had nowhere to lay his head.

He sought no dignity and no honor.

As for his companionships, they were of the lowest, for it is said of him, "This man receives sinners and eats with them"; "Then drew near unto him all the publicans and sinners for to hear him." The offcasts of society delighted in his discourses, and they gathered around him to receive blessings at his hand. He lifted them up from the dunghill, renewed them, and set them among princes.

He was the last person in the world to be hampered by pride. There was nothing of the kind about him. He was the personification of love. He condescended — but he did not seem to condescend; for graciousness was natural to him. He did it so really that one almost forgot the condescension in the altogether naturalness of the way in which he sympathized with all grief, and helped all who came for support. Hence the proud despised him. Those who looked for dress and garb, as so many do in our day; those who looked for a show of learning, quotations from great writers, continual novelties to human minds — could not see much in him. Those who wanted a display of power, a leader bold and brave to drive out the Romans, and play Judas Maccabeus for the people — turned away and said, "He is nothing but an ordinary Nazarene!"

His followers, too, were another cause of the contempt poured upon him; for his chosen friends were to those who knew them, nothing but common fishermen. Indeed, that is all they were. Unlearned and ignorant men they are said to have been, though they baffled the pretended wisdom of the age in which they lived. How could he have selected such followers? There were scribes, and there were Pharisees; there were Rabbis and Rabbonis — He might surely have called some of those to follow him; but, you see, the Savior was not a preacher that at all attracted the elite of society. Those highly cultured minds, as a rule, went to hear Rabbi Simeon, the Pharisee, who expounded points of no earthly importance; but Jesus was one of whom it is written, "The common people heard him gladly."

And so the wise ones ran him down as "a Nazarene." "Look," said they, "look and see who they are, whom he has chosen to be his chief helpers. See how the lower orders flock around him. They are no judges; what notion have they of profound learning and research? They like a man who is ignorant — for he is like themselves. They have no taste, they have no education — and so they gather to one of themselves."

"Ah!" said one of these wiseacres, "I am ashamed of him — quite ashamed. Indeed, I shall speak to him, for he ought not to be so lost to all sense of propriety." And so he goes to the Master and says, "Do you hear the boys crying, 'Hosanna!' in the temple? Do you hear what these say?" He thought that the Lord would be ashamed of having such admirers as mere street boys; but the Savior answered, "Have you never read" — as if he was going to question this great man's reading — "have you never read, Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings he has perfected praise"? He was not ashamed even of the children that strewed the pathway for him, nor ashamed of the sick and sinful people that gathered around him, nor ashamed of the poor fishermen that were the lieutenants of his salvation army; but rather did he rejoice therein, and say, "Father, I thank you that you have hid these things from the wise and prudent, and have revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in your sight." But the higher classes, the refined and the cultivated, said, "Tush! he is nothing but a Nazarene!"

Well, then, when they came to listen to his doctrine they were not a bit more pleased, nor did they hold him any higher in esteem. What do you think he taught them? Among other things it is reported that he said, "Except a man be born again — he cannot see the kingdom of God;" and, would you believe it, he said this not to one of the lower order at all — but to a learned gentleman who was a ruler in Israel? Why, it has come to a pretty pass, this, to tell educated people, refined, aesthetic people — that they must be born again, or else they cannot see the kingdom of God — to insist upon regeneration as a thing as necessary to a philosopher as to a prostitute, as necessary to a senator as to a jailbird; as needful to the purest as to the most defiled. Oh no! We cannot bear such leveling doctrine! It is shocking. So they turned their backs to him and called him a Nazarene. When a man tells you unpalatable truth — it is very easy and natural to call him bad names. If you cannot answer him any other way — you can always answer him by reviling him.

And, then, what do you think he said beside that? On one occasion he had the audacity to say — and I am sure the Pharisees thought it was audacity indeed, "Except you eat my flesh, and drink my blood — there is no life in you." What could the man mean — that they, even they the sons of Abraham who were born free; the priests who had partaken of the sacrifices, must actually eat him? Did they think that they would accept his teaching as food for their souls? I wonder if they went as far as that in understanding him; but if they did, they liked it no better. They were indignant that he should say that the only food for their souls must be himself; that unless he became their life, and the nourishment of that life; unless he became part and parcel of their very being, they could not be saved! Even those who did think a little of him, said that after this they must give him up. They could not stand that, and so they walked no more with him.

Next Part He went even further