Companion to the Bible. E. P. Barrows

and illustrations as simple and natural as they were profound, and by means of which he unfolded the deepest truths in the plainest and most intelligible forms. Take, for example, the parables of the mustard-seed and the leaven. They contain within themselves the whole history of Christ's kingdom in its inward principle. They unfold views of its steady progress from age to age, as a growth from an inward vital force, on which the most philosophical minds especially love to dwell; and yet they are perfectly intelligible to the most unlettered man. To teach by parables, without any false analogies, and in a way that interested and instructed alike the learned and the ignorant, this was a wonderful characteristic of our Lord's ministry. In this respect no one of his apostles, not even the bosom disciple, attempted to imitate him. Yet in the great fact that his teaching was not for a select few, but for the masses of mankind, so that "the common people heard him gladly," all his servants can and ought to imitate him.

      Thus far we have considered mainly the human side of our Lord's character, though through it all his divinity shines forth. Let us now look more particularly at his divine mission and character. On the fact that his mission was from God we need not dwell. Nicodemus expressed the judgment of every candid mind when he said, "Rabbi, we know that thou art a teacher come from God; for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God be with him." If there is one truth which our Lord asserted more frequently than any other, it is that he came from God: "The works which the Father hath given me to finish, the same works that I do, bear witness of me, that the Father hath sent me." "If God were your Father, ye would love me: for I proceeded forth and came from God; neither came I of myself, but he sent me."

      But Jesus had not only a divine mission, but a divine person also; and the manner in which he manifested his divinity is, if possible, more original than any thing else in his history, and bears in itself the impress of reality. A company of men who should attempt to give a portraiture of a divine being simply from their own conceptions would doubtless put into his lips many direct assertions of his deity, and make his life abound in stupendous miracles. But it is not in any such crude way that our Saviour's divinity manifests itself in the gospel narratives. It is true indeed that in the manner of his miracles he everywhere makes the impression that he performs them by virtue of a power residing in himself; that while the commission to do them comes from the Father, the power to do them belongs to his own person. In this respect the contrast is very sharp between his manner and that of the prophets before him and the apostles after him. In their case the power, as well as the commission, was wholly from God, as they were careful to teach the people: "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk." "Why look ye so earnestly on us, as though by our own power or holiness we had made this man to walk?" "His name, through faith in his name, hath made this man strong, whom ye see and know." "Eneas, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole." But not to dwell on this, let us look at some very remarkable ways in which our Saviour manifested his divine nature.

      He called God his Father in a peculiar and incommunicable sense. He never said, "Our Father," by which he would have classed himself with other men, but always, "My Father," showing that thus he stood alone in his relation to God. As the son has the same nature with the father, and when acting under his authority, the same prerogatives also; so Jesus, as the Son of God, claimed the power and right to do whatever his Father did, and to receive the same honor as his Father: "My Father worketh hitherto, and I work." This the Jews rightly understood to be an assertion of equality with the Father; for they "sought the more to kill him, because he not only had broken the Sabbath, but said also that God was his own Father, (so the original reads,) making himself equal with God." To this the Saviour answered: "The Son can do nothing of himself"—acting in his own name, and without the concurrence of the Father's will—"but what he seeth the Father do; for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise. For the Father loveth the Son, and showeth him all things that himself doeth: and he will show him greater works than these, that ye may marvel. For as the Father raiseth up the dead, and quickeneth them; even so the Son quickeneth whom he will. For the Father judgeth no man; but hath committed all judgment unto the Son: that all men should honor the Son, even as they honor the Father. He that honoreth not the Son, honoreth not the Father which hath sent him." John 5:17–23. Here the Son, though acting under the Father's commission, claims equality with the Father; for without this he could neither share all the Father's counsels, nor do all the Father's works, nor receive from the Father authority to judge all men—an office which plainly implies omniscience—nor be entitled to the same honor as the Father. The point to be especially noticed in the present connection is the originality of the way in which our Lord here asserts his divine nature. We cannot for a moment suppose that such a way would have occurred to one who was writing from his own invention. The only possible explanation of the existence of such a passage in the gospel of John, (and the same is true of many other passages,) is that it is a true record of what actually took place in our Lord's history.

      Again: our Lord represents himself as the source of light and life to all mankind. To the Jews he said: "I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." John 8:12. In comparison with what he here claims for himself, the outward work of opening men's bodily eyes dwindles into nothing. That was only the seal of his divine mission. But in these and other like words, he does, as it were, draw aside the veil of his humanity, and give us a glimpse of the glory of the Godhead that dwells within. So too he says, "I am the living bread which came down from heaven: if any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world." John 6:51. The resurrection of Lazarus, stupendous as that miracle was, does not fill us with such awe and amazement as the mighty words which he uttered to Martha: "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die," John 11:25, 26; for in these words he represents himself as being to the whole human family the author of all life, natural, spiritual, and eternal. He connects the particular act of giving life which he is about to perform with the final resurrection, "when all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation." John 5:28, 29. These utterances, so calm, so lofty, so original, do not sound like the inventions of man. They wear a heavenly costume. When we read them, we feel that the only explanation of their existence in the gospel narrative is the fact that they were actually uttered by our Lord.

      And the same is true of another kindred class of passages, in which the Saviour asserts his inward dominion over the human spirit. Hear him, as he stands and proclaims: "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Matt. 11:28. "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you." John 14:27. The world gives peace at best outwardly, and often only in empty words; but Jesus has direct access to the inmost fountains of feeling. He gives peace inwardly and efficaciously. When he turned into songs of joy the tears of the widow of Nain by raising her son to life, that was a wonderful instance of his giving peace; but far greater and more glorious is the work when, by his inward presence in the soul, he makes it victorious over all "the sufferings of this present time." This is what he meant when he said to his disciples: "These things have I spoken unto you that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulations; but be of good cheer: I have overcome the world." John 16:33. In his name, apostles raised the dead to life; but no apostle—no mere man—would have ventured to say, "In me ye shall have peace."

      These last words naturally lead to the consideration of another very peculiar form of speech first introduced by our Lord, and passing from him to the church; that of the mutual indwelling of himself and his disciples: "Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me." John 15:1–7. It is a vital union of the believer's soul with Jesus, through which he receives from Jesus life and fruitfulness, as the branch from its union with the vine. Here is an assertion of deity. The Jews regarded Moses with the highest reverence; but no one of them ever spoke of abiding in Moses, or having Moses abiding in himself. Had any Christian disciple represented himself as dwelling in Peter or Paul, the apostle would have rent his clothes at the blasphemy of the words.

      Other peculiar