Traditions of Palestine/The Hope of the Hebrew/
THE
HOPE OF THE HEBREW.
The ruddy dawn was breaking over the summits of the mountains which inclose the Lake of Genesareth on the eastern side, when Sadoc and his sister Michal came forth from Capernaum to walk on the beach, which was yet as silent as it had been during the night. They walked quickly and were mute till the city was hidden from them by the projection of a hill, whose base was washed by the waves. They then paused and gazed on a scene which they were wont to behold, but which now appeared in more than ordinary beauty. The deep vale in which the lake lay embosomed was yet reposing in a grey shadow, while the radiance of the morning streamed through the clefts of the opposite mountains, and crimsoned the tops of the western hills. The cedar groves which were scattered on the uplands, and the palms which were grouped among the recesses of the hills, waved their tops in the light cool breeze. The stork winged her slow flight above the groves, while the eagle arose from the highest summit of the rocks, like a dark speck in the sunlight. An aromatic scent spread among the flowering reeds on the borders of the lake, except where a sandy promontory jutted out into the waters, affording an advantageous station for the fishers, whose boats were seen, here and there, floating on the rippled surface, and whose nets were spread to dry in the morning sun.
Sadoc and his sister directed their steps to one of these promontories, whence they could gain an extensive view of the shores, and could even discern the issue of Jordan from the southern end of the lake. The few habitations which were distinctly visible, presented no sign of life without or within. No human being was in sight; and if the maiden looked around her in search of such a form, her search was vain.
"He cannot yet have passed," said Michal, "though it is said that he sometimes departs by night. It was full late when he dismissed the people, and perhaps he will yet remain another day.”
“I would we could speak with him,” replied her brother, “or at least that we could hear his teachings once again.”
“My father fears lest we should do so,” said Michal, “except in the synagogue. If he would return on the next sabbath we might hear him again without blame; and I surely believe that no man besides can explain the law and the prophets with such truth and power as he.”
“His words alone would have awakened me as I am now awakened,” said Sadoc; “but his works also shew that he is a prophet from on high.”
“Yet our father will not behold nor believe.”
"He will not see nor listen, because he is sure that no prophet can arise out of Nazareth. How this may be, I know not; but I know that by Jehovah alone can such a power of healing be given.”
"My father says also, that in the Temple, with great power and grandeur, must the Deliverer appear.”
“So have we always believed, and so it may be. This Teacher may be but a forerunner of the Mighty One, and not the Messiah himself, as some say. We must know more before we can reason with our father; but I believe and will declare this Teacher to be a Prophet.”
"He comes!" exclaimed Michal, as she saw the figure of a man advancing from the hill which hid the city from them. “But, no! he would not depart alone.”
“It is our friend Paltiel,” said Sadoc, as the man approached. “He is come for the same purpose as ourselves. Didst thou observe how he listened to the words of the Teacher?”
“I observed nothing,” replied Michal.
Paltiel seated himself on a stone beside his friends, and their discourse was still of the Teacher. In answer to the question whether he believed the man of Nazareth to be the Messiah, Paltiel replied,
“He hath not plainly said whether such be his office or no. But we hear nothing, we see nothing of preparation to deliver us from the Romans. It was but yesternight that Aram prayed him to be allowed to follow him to the war, and he answered by a blessing on the lovers of peace.”
“My father objects,” said Sadoc, “that he can have no commission to deliver our nation, as he has neither wealth nor power; and his very works, of which the fame has spread so far, have brought him no followers but those who are as poor as himself.”
“From Jehovah cometh the power,” said Michal. “He raiseth the poor, and bringeth down princes to nothing.”
"I have pondered the words of prophecy much of late,” said Paltiel, “and have compared them with the words of the Teacher; and I will not fear to tell my friends the thoughts that are in my mind.”
Sadoc and Michal turned eagerly to listen.
"I have thought that the office of the Christ might not consist only in the performance of one great deliverance. That he will restore us as a nation, cannot be doubted; but may he not cause other changes also?”
“His words are ever in favour of peace and brotherly love; and I know of something of which you have not heard. He refuses not to discourse and to eat with Samaritans.”
Sadoc and Michal looked at one another with surprise and sorrow.
“It is but a few days,” continued Paltiel, “since he told a woman of Sychar that neither at Jerusalem nor on Gerizim should men hereafter worship the Father. Whether his meaning can be understood, judge for yourselves. For my part, I suppose that he may reconcile the Samaritans unto us, and bring us together within a greater temple than hath yet been builded.”
“It cannot be!” exclaimed Michal. “The Samaritans! Our foes, who opposed the building of our holy temple!”
“Who corrupted the law!” added Sadoc. “The vengeance of Jehovah shall swallow them up.”
"Nay, Sadoc, beware,” said Paltiel. “Remember that the wrath of man cannot avenge the Lord. Hold thy peace against this people.”
“Thou hast given thy judgment, Paltiel. If I did not believe thee wrong, I would follow no more after this man.”
“O! why,” asked Michal, “did he talk with a woman of Sychar?”
"Moreover,” said Paltiel, “he abode in Sychar two days.”
“What would our father say, Sadoc?”
“What he now says, that this Jesus is a false prophet. Paltiel, what other changes may be wrought, as thou believest?”
"I can scarcely say that I believe or expect such changes," replied he; “but this man is like no other, inasmuch as he regards some of our customs, and strangely violates others. By his teaching, he confirms the law and the prophets; and yet some of his thoughts are not those of a Hebrew. He worships in the temple, and goes up to the feast; yet be has said that the temple shall be destroyed. He enters, as ye know, into the synagogue, on the Sabbath, and yet he keeps not the day altogether holy. He condemns extortion, yet eats with publicans. He is pure, and he teaches righteousness, while he discourses with some sinners so polluted that all good men avoid them. No prophet hath done thus of old.”
“What dost thou therefore believe?”
"I scarcely know: but when I behold how pure he is while doing thus, I inquire whether we might not also be more holy in our minds while less strait in our external observances. Many of us are sinful in our lives, while outwardly sanctified: and may not this be in some degree the case with us all?"
"I fear to listen further,” said Michal; “and I now fear to meet the Teacher. I will return whence I did wrong to come forth.”
She raised her head which had sunk on her knees, and drew her veil around her face to conceal the tears which had sprung to her eyes. Grief had succeeded to hope, and she wished to avoid the mysterious Teacher who could not have been sent by the God of the Hebrews, since he had tarried two days at Sychar, boded evil to the Temple, and entered the dwelling of a publican.
Her brother and his friend accompanied her to the city, and then proceeded along the shore of the lake to the southward, still hoping to see and hear more of him who filled their thoughts.
They walked slowly, conversing earnestly concerning the expectation of their people, and the predictions of their Scriptures respecting it. They revived in each other’s memory the words of grace and truth which they had heard in the synagogue from him who had expounded the law with an authority which none could resist. The remembrance at length awed them into silence, and they stood, leaning each against a palm, and gazing on the waters which were now gleaming in the full light of day. After a while, the breeze brought to their ears the voices of men, and as expectation was powerful within them, they, with one consent, pursued their way. They presently reached a little bay, where many boats were riding the waters. In those most distant from the beach, fishermen were busy at their toil; but those near the margin of the lake were deserted, and the men were collected in groups along the shore, Sadoc approached a man who stood musing apart, with his nets, which he had prepared, hanging over his arm.
“The fair morning calls thee to thy occupation, Lemuel,” said Sadoc. “Hasten, lest the heat of the day come on.”
The man looked up, only replying, “The Teacher hath passed this way.”
“Hath passed!” exclaimed Sadoc. “And we have lingered behind. Whither is he gone?”
“We know not,” replied Lemuel, “but he hath called away some of our companions. Simon and Andrew have left their boat and followed him, and others also.”
"Wherefore?”
"I know not; but Simon and Andrew had seen and heard him at Bethabara; and they tell such wonderful sayings of him, that they cannot but follow him when he calls.”
"In what manner did he call them?”
"He said somewhat to them which made Simon cast down his nets in haste, and gird himself as if for a journey.”
"Moreover, with great joy,” said one who stood by: “the Teacher promised that they should be fishers of men. The meaning of the promise they will tell us when they return.”
"What thinkest thou of him, Lemuel?”
“That he is a mighty one sent of God.”
“Why then art thou here? Why didst thou not follow him also?”
“I feared to do so; but when our companions return, we shall learn more of the glad tidings he is said to bring.”
“Let us follow,” said Sadoc to his friend, “lest these men return not again.”
One who was a Nazarene offered to join them, as he also sought the Prophet. He had heard him in the synagogue at Nazareth two sabbath-days before. He now related how this Prophet had read and applied to himself the saying, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath appointed me to preach glad tidings to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind; to preach the acceptable year of the Lord." The Nazarene told how this promise appeared to be fulfilled by the works of wonder and of love now daily witnessed in those parts which saw this great and long-promised light. He described the contempt with which the Mighty One was regarded in Nazareth, because he had dwelt there in a humble station while following an ordinary occupation. “They remember not,” he continued, “that David was once but a stripling who tended his father sheep, and that Solomon was descended from Ruth the Moabitess.”
“Hast thou known,—didst thou ever discourse with Jesus before he was baptized?” asked Sadoc with eagerness.
“I have broken bread and drank of the same cup with him,” replied the Nazarene, “and heard many words of wisdom from him. I have often marvelled that my heart burned within me while we discoursed of the hope of our nation, And when I have beheld how the eyes of his mother were fixed on him with deep and tender love, I have thought that she was blessed among women.”
"And his brethren are also favoured of the Lord!”
“Nay, but they believe not on him. Mary, his mother, hideth her hopes in her heart; but his brethren marvel that the world is gone after him. Yet they were in much fear lest he should be dashed to pieces when his townsmen were full of wrath against him.”
“Wherefore were they angry?”
“Because he restrained his hand from doing the mighty works which they sought. He rebuked them for their unbelief, and refused to put forth his power, lest they should scoff at the Most High. Then they thrust him forth to the ridge of the hill, and I verily thought that his last hour was come.”
“And was his countenance calm?”
“He did not strive nor cry, but looked mournfully on the rebellious crowd. Presently he was gone, no one knew whither. I came to Capernaum, trusting to find him there, and I will not henceforth cease from following him.”
"Paltiel,” said Sadoc, turning to his friend, “in this thing hath Jehovah again testified that his ways are not as our ways. This man cometh not with power and an outstretched arm, as we supposed. He is mild and calm; and I cannot look upon him as the champion of Israel and the conqueror of our conquerors. When I have hitherto thought of the day of our deliverance, my spirit has risen while the horses and chariots of the mighty, the bands of armed men, and the tents of a host, were before me; while the trumpets sounded to the battle, and Israel was led forth by such an one as Joshua or Gideon, or as Maccabæus,—but with a brighter glory and a stronger arm. Thinkest thou that this Jesus will be to us such a leader? To me it seems that such can never be his office.”
The Nazarene interrupted him by saying,
“Doubt not thou the word of Jehovah.—Hath he not said that freedom shall be brought by his mighty one? Remember, too, the dignity of the Prophet and the authority of his words. When he shall cast off his garments of peace and gird on his armour, who shall stand before him?”
Sadoc mused instead of replying, and they went on in silence, except that one or other, from time to time, repeated some promise or uttered some prayer from their scriptures, which the events of the time revived in their hearts with unwonted power. “O that thou wouldst rend the heavens, that thou wouldst come down, to make thy name known to thine adversaries, that the nations may tremble at thy presence!” "As the earth bringeth forth her bud, and as the garden causeth the things that are sown in it to spring forth, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring forth before all the nations.” “Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession.”
The noon-day heats became oppressive: the way was now stony and sandy; the glare of the sun, reflected from the transparent lake, wearied the eye, and the travellers began to look around for a place of repose. Paltiel remembered that at the distance of two furlongs from the spot where they now were, a cluster of palm-trees grew in a recess of the hills, where a fountain of cool water gushed from a rocky cleft. As soon as they arrived within sight of the trees, they perceived, by the motion of garments, that some one was already at the spring. On approaching nearer, they saw an aged man couched on the ground as if asleep, while a maiden watched over him. She had spread her veil to shade his face from the light; but when she heard the sound of footsteps and perceived that strangers were drawing near, she hastily replaced her veil, and bent over the old man, as if speaking to him. He arose and surveyed the three companions, placing his hand above his eyes, as if even the softened light beneath the palm-branches was painful. Seeing that they paused, as if wishing yet fearing to join company with him, he courteously invited them to repose and drink. Before accepting his offer, Sadoc uttered the inquiry which was ever uppermost in his mind, whether the Teacher had passed that way.
“He hath,—blessed be his name, and the name of Jehovah who sent him!”
“Thou believest on him!” said Sadoc with joy.
“I must needs believe on him,” old man, “for he hath wrought a great work of mercy on me. When yonder sun had been an hour above the mountains, all was dark as night to me, as it hath been for years past. I now see.”
“And the Prophet hath done this!”
“He laid his hands on me, and the blessed light returned to me. I have seen the face of my child, The sparkling of the waters also, and the fruit and leaves of these trees, greener and fairer than they were in my remembrance,—have gladdened my heart. Yet will they be more beautiful unto me to-morrow; for my sense is yet weak, and I can scarce even look upon you, though the face of man has been long as a dream unto me, and this hour is like a pleasant waking. Blessed be he who hath gladdened my age with light!”
“Amen, Amen,” murmured the maiden, as she sat with her head bowed on her knees.
“But the Teacher,” exclaimed Sadoc. “How came he unto thee, and where?”
“We rested beneath this tree,” replied the old man. “I heard the steps of men, and knew that a company approached. My daughter believed that the Prophet was among them, and therefore I went forth and bowed before him. He asked if I believed on his words, and looked to him for the salvation of Israel; and then he removed darkness from me.”
Again the maiden spoke in a low voice,
“‘According to thy faith be it done unto thee’—Those words shall be hidden in my heart evermore.”
“Wherefore have ye not followed him?” inquired the Nazarene.
“I hastened to do so, when I should have bestowed my child in safety; but the Teacher saw that my spirit trembled within me, and he took my hand and led me hither, and desired me to abide, till the heat of noon should be overpast. And he gave us his blessing, and went on his way.”
"Didst thou not fear before him?”
“I feared before the manifest power of Jehovah. But this man I fear not. On his countenance my opened sight first rested, and I gazed without confusion. It seems to me that whether men fear him or no, they cannot but love also. My heart has followed him, and if it please the Lord, I will offer my thanksgivings at the feet of his prophet once again.”
When Sadoc had heard all that the old man could relate, he was impatient to pursue his journey. Paltiel reminded him of his home, his family, and occupation; but Sadoc earnestly replied,
"Shall Jehovah put forth his wonders in our land, and shall mine eyes not see and mine ears not hear? I go not back till I have learned of his doctrine and sought to be his disciple.”
He retired to a solitary place to pour out his spirit before Jehovah in thanksgivings that the long-desired year of salvation had opened gloriously, and in prayer that Israel might be exalted over other nations, and that all the power and prosperity of the earth might be concentered in the people of God. Not doubting of the holiness of his petition, he set forth once again with a glowing heart and a countenance of joy.
Now, wherever they passed, they heard the name of the Prophet. All who had been restored to health and pleasure by his hand and voice, praised him openly, or adored, in the depth of their hearts, the power by which he wrought; but many who had learned of the scribes, many who were in esteem for wisdom, many whose faith was spoken of in the synagogue, and whose outward sanctity pointed them out as men of God, refused to hear or see a prophet who came from Nazareth, and warned those who followed, that the word of the Lord cannot be removed for ever. Already families were divided. Some who had seen could not but believe; others who had not seen were grieved in spirit that a false prophet should draw a multitude after him. Many voices of warning, remonstrance, and contention, were heard in the dwellings of men; many secret tears were shed in the solitude of their chambers; many humble and fervent prayers ascended that Jehovah would be pleased to reveal his truth, to help wavering belief, to guard from impious delusion. Songs of joy were also heard to arise from the roofs of many dwellings, while the glad hearts of those who firmly believed caused them to open their doors to the way-farers who sought the Prophet, or the followers who spoke of the wonders which he did.
There was, however, one dwelling where the name of the new Teacher had not yet been heard. It stood so far apart from the way-side, that no sounds had reached it from the busy throngs which had passed since sun-rise on that memorable day. It was overshadowed by trees, and nearly hidden from the passers by. An aged woman abode there with her son, whose occupation prevented his mingling in the world, though he was careful to exercise hospitality, and was ever ready to open his gate to the weary traveller. He walked on the roof of his house at sun-set, and looked abroad on the deep valley where the shadows of evening had already fallen, when he perceived Sadoc and his companions, at a little distance, travelling slowly as if they were wearied and in need of some place of rest. He descended and went forth to invite them to pass the night in his dwelling. They gladly followed him, and received the greetings of his mother with respect, as she offered her house for their home as long as they chose to abide. Before the first rites of hospitality were paid, before their feet were washed, and the couches placed for the evening repast, the eager Sadoc had spoken on the subject nearest his heart, and heard with astonishment that no tidings of the excitement which prevailed elsewhere had yet reached this retired abode. So many inquiries were to be answered, so many details of surpassing interest were to be given, that it was late before the guests received the blessing of the night from their hostess: and even then, Sadoc did not retire immediately to his couch. He entered the Alijah, and in that still oratory, lighted only by the pale stars, and visited only by the night breeze, he poured out the thanksgivings with which his soul overflowed, and strove, by the awful offices of devotion, to lay to rest the stirring thoughts which had become too exciting for his repose.
By break of day all was prepared for their departure. The meal was spread, the hostess was ready with her parting blessing, and her son took his staff in his hand, that he might accompany his guests to the verge of the plain which they desired to traverse before noon.
“Return hither, my sons,” said the hostess, “that if Jehovah be indeed about to establish the glory of our nation for ever, we may rejoice together. If our hope is vain, let us comfort each other with the words of promise. Let us not be as strangers henceforth. And now, my sons, God be with you on the way, and his angel lead you!”
Their host parted not from their company till they issued from the valleys, and saw before them the plain from the midst of which rises Mount Tabor in solitary grandeur. No other hill swells from the surrounding level to contrast with its height or impair its appearance of singularity. Its sides, towards the summit, were verdant with groves, and its rocky base rose abruptly from the plain. The ascent, though steep, was not long, and at the summit was a level space, whence a vast extent of country could be seen. Sadoc had often reposed there while he thought on the events which had taken place on this spot, or in scenes on which his eye rested. While the wild animals and birds were his only companions, he had often remembered that he stood where Barak assembled his hosts before he went forth against Sisera; that Sodom and Gomorrah were once visible where now dark exhalations only shewed where they had been built; that the walls of Jericho arose on the horizon, before they fell at the blast of the trumpets of Israel; and that the waters of Jordan might hence be seen, where they parted to admit the passage of the Ark of the Lord. Often had he gazed on the snowy peak of Hermon, and on the sea of Galilee; and often had his eye rested on the town of Nazareth, as it sloped from the ridge of a hill into a deep vale, while he little knew that it would be hereafter sanctified as the abode of the Hope of Israel. Now, as the eyes of the travellers turned towards the mountain, they saw that its wonted stillness and solitude were disturbed. Groups of people were hastening in all directions over the plain towards Tabor; and on the mountain itself, moving figures could already be discerned. The three companions looked at each other, while joy flashed from their eyes, and they immediately quickened their pace, regardless of the increasing heat. As soon as they arrived within hearing of some who were hastening in the same direction with themselves, they rejoiced at the sound of eager voices exclaiming, “The Teacher,” “The Prophet,” “Jesus, the son of David.” From that moment Sadoc heard and saw nothing of what passed around him. His whole soul was in his eyes, and they were fixed on the outlines of the Mount, where the objects became every moment more distinct. On the masses of rock were people seated. Groups stood beneath the trees. A multitude filled a shaded recess. Every moment the numbers were increased. Hundreds poured through every passage of the rocks. Thousands toiled up the steep pathway. Sadoc listened for voices of praise, for his own heart longed to break forth into singing: but no sound was heard but the rushing of busy feet over the plain. He looked yet again, he shaded his eyes with his hand, that he might see more distinctly, and he beheld, at length, one who sat apart from the assembled multitude, and above them; one to whom all faces were turned, to whom access appeared impossible from the throngs which surrounded him. A dimness came over the sight of Sadoc as he gazed. He dropped his head and covered his face with his mantle, while, with his companions, he turned towards Jerusalem, and exclaimed, “Now with joy shall we draw water out of the wells of salvation. Exult, O Zion! for great is the Holy One of Israel in the midst of thee!”