The pre-eminence of man over the brute creation arises chiefly from his capacity of knowing God and serving him in the appointed exercises of religion; and yet the perversion of this capacity, by the invention of superstitious ceremonies, has rendered him utterly contemptible. In the services of real piety, he appears elevated to the summit of creation, his nature seems ennobled, and his character encircled with glory; but, in the practices of superstition, he is degraded to the lowest depth of meanness of which an intellectual and immortal being is capable. By the former he soars to "glory, honour, and immortality;" by the latter he sinks to wretchedness and ruin. In the one case he is useful and happy; in the other, inactive, isolated, and full of disquietude; and thus either rises into grandeur or falls into littleness,--is an angel or a brute!
Whoever reviews the several religious errors of the Pagan, Jewish, and Christian communities, will admit, that the history of superstition constitutes one of the most offensive pages in the annals of mankind; he will see the object of worship misrepresented, the universe partitioned into petty sovereignties, and Deity divided, contracted, and localized; religion turned into mockery, and mockery into religion.
It is somewhat difficult to trace the operations and to ascertain the true character of superstition, although it has prevailed so extensively in the world, and produced such extraordinary effects. Amongst other anomalies, this is observable, that it not only has led captive weak and ignorant minds, which being unable to detect a specious sophism, or to depart from a general practice, may easily be supposed incapable of resisting its fascination; but it has been known to seduce and enchain some of the noblest orders of intellect, and the most cultivated of human understandings. Whole nations and successive generations have been subjected to its influence, furnishing ample evidence of that statement, which, if it be not repeated in every page of Scripture, lies at the foundation of all its truths; and into which many of the peculiarities of this principle may be resolved: "The world by wisdom knew not God."
Superstition is unquestionably founded in mean and absurd ideas of the moral attributes of the Deity, which produce corresponding actions, and in assigning to him an arbitrary character, deriving pleasure from what has no connexion with the happiness of the worshipper. A consistent and dignified conduct can only result from a just estimate of the divine perfections, and a correct view of moral obligation. The worship we render to a superior being, must necessarily be shaped and regulated by our conceptions of the nature of God; consequently, mankind will degenerate into error and folly, proportionate to their departure from the representations of Scripture respecting the spirituality of his essence.
To this source may be traced especially the principles and practices of the Romish church, in which reason is outraged, religion caricatured, and God dishonoured. Transubstantiation is a doctrine manifestly absurd and impious; and the practice of presenting those supplications to dead saints, which the Supreme Being alone can hear and answer, is no less ridiculous, as well as subversive of true piety. Perhaps, however, no deviation from common sense is more remarkable than those extravagancies of the Catholics which respect the Virgin Mary; and yet these have not only been practised by the multitude, but defended by men of learning with the utmost subtlety and the warmest zeal. In fact, she has been praised by every Catholic pen for ages; and every term that language could supply has been put in requisition to extol her merits.
Let the view we have given of these misstatements excite us to self-examination, in order that we may discover any incorrectness or deficiency in our own apprehensions of religion, and become vigilant over those errors into which we may be apt to deviate. It will be studying man to some purpose, if the better we are acquainted with the history of the human mind, the greater the circumspection we exercise over ourselves. We shall then be less imposed upon by the speciousness of falsehood, and less betrayed by the weakness of our passions; we shall be led to "present our bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God," and feel that it is our "reasonable service."
The angelic Appearance to Zacharias--Birth of John--Characters of Elizabeth and Zacharias--Importance of domestic Union being founded on Religion, shown in them--their venerable Age--the characteristic Features of their Piety--the Happiness of a Life like theirs--the Effect it is calculated to produce on others--the Perpetuation of holy friendship through immortal Ages--the miserable Condition of the irreligious.
Obscure as were the circumstances in which Christ appeared, Infinite Wisdom saw fit to furnish miraculous attestations to his character and mission. This evidence attended him during the whole of his career, investing him with a heavenly glory, and rendering his pre-eminence distinctly visible to the eye of faith, notwithstanding his assumed inferiority.
It was in unison with this scheme of Providence to send the most exalted of angelic beings to announce the birth of Messiah, and to prepare the minds of Mary his mother, of the shepherds who were to circulate the intelligence, and of others more nearly or more remotely interested in the event, by celestial visitations. For similar reasons it comported with the nature of this wonderful event, to attach something peculiar and even miraculous to the birth of his precursor, whose destined office it should be to "prepare the way of the Lord," by uttering his "voice in the wilderness," and intimating to mankind the mighty transformations about to be effected in the moral state of the world. Six months, therefore, previously to the annunciation to Mary, the angel Gabriel descended to proclaim "glad tidings" to Zacharias. In the performance of his customary service as a priest, he had gone into the temple to burn incense, while the people were praying without the holy place. On a sudden, he perceived an angel standing on the right side of the altar, and became exceedingly agitated, till the benevolent spirit addressed him in affectionate and congratulatory terms. Ah!theyhave no reason to dread a message from the world of spirits, or to be filled with apprehensions at the sight of other orders of beings than those with which they are conversant, who are engaged in the discharge of their duties, and live under the influence of religion! However new or extraordinary such revelations, they never could have been real causes of alarm to the servants of God; and were they not at present suspended, in consequence of the completion of the intended communications of truth to mankind, piety ought rather to welcome than to dread them.
Zacharias was assured that his prayer was heard, and that his wife Elizabeth should have a son to be named John. As a sign of the accomplishment of this prediction, and as a chastisement of the doubt with which the message was at first received, he was struck with dumbness, which continued only till the birth of his child.
The interview between Elizabeth and Mary, the mother of our Lord, has been already adverted to in the preceding narrative, where the salutations of these favoured relatives were recited. At the expiration of the appointed time, Elizabeth bare a son whom they would have called after the name of Zacharias, but his mother interposed; and the affair being finally referred to his father, he wrote, to the general astonishment of their neighbours and relatives, who had remonstrated in vain, "His name is John." Immediately his speech was restored, and he broke out in impassioned strains of praise: "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; for he hath visited and redeemed his people, and hath raised up an horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David; as he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets, which have been since the world began: that we should be saved from our enemies, and from the hand of all that hate us; to perform the mercy promised to our fathers, and to remember his holy covenant; the oath which he sware to our father Abraham, that he would grant unto us, that we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him, all the days of our life. And thou, child, shall be called the prophet of the Highest: for thou shall go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways; to give knowledge of salvation unto his people by the remission of their sins, through the tender mercy of our God; whereby the day-spring from on high hath visited us, to give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."
Reverting to the commencement of this history by the evangelist Luke, we shall be led to notice the domestic characters of Zacharias and Elizabeth, particularly as they illustrate the excellence of a life of piety. While religion adorns every station, it teaches us to fulfil every relative duty; and acting under its influence, a person becomes a light in the world, diffusing through the family, the social circle, and the more extended sphere of busy life, a mild and beneficent radiance.
Our attention is first directed to the office of Zacharias, and the descent of his wife. He was apriest, and she "of the daughters of Aaron." The world affords too many evidences, that piety is neither created by station, nor hereditary in its transmission. As Zacharias was a minister of the sanctuary, it was both to bedesiredandexpectedthat he should not approach the altar with a hardened and unsanctified heart. "Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? and who shall stand in his holy place? He that hath clean hands and a pure heart; who hath not lift up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation." Yet, alas! it is not always to be presumed that real religion accompanies either the brightest profession or the most dignified office! Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, offered "strange fire," Judas betrayed the Son of God, and Paul expresses an apprehension "lest, having preached to others," he should himself "be a castaway." The admonition, therefore, of God by Isaiah is appropriate and striking: "Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord." It is possible to be a preacher of righteousness, and yet a child of Satan--a priest, and yet a demon--a worker of miracles, and yet a "worker of iniquity:" but a pleasing exception to this remark occurs in the history of Zacharias, who was "apriest, andrighteousbefore God." Hisofficeand hischaracteraccorded, and the light of his example shone with unclouded brightness and attractive glory.
It is observable, that Elizabeth, the wife of this holy priest, was equally distinguished with himself for a sincere and active piety. "They were BOTH righteous before God;" and it was their privilege to live at that eventful moment when the clouds that obscured the past dispensations of Providence were tinged with the rising glory of the day which was just breaking upon the nations of the earth, and which lighted these pilgrims home to their eternal rest. They were some of the last of the Jewish and the first of the Christian economy, and their life seemed to form the bright line which bordered the typical ages and those of unshadowed truth and Christian revelation.
Zacharias and Elizabeth exhibit an attractive picture of union both natural and religious; the hymenial tie was intertwined with celestial roses, which diffused a fragrance over domestic life; their love to each other was strengthened and sanctified by their love to God.
The perfection of conjugal felicity with every good man depends upon the existence of similar religious principles and feelings with those which influence himself in the partner of his life; consequently, it will ever be his concern "to marry in the Lord." No language can express the bitterness of that pang which rends his heart when a dissimilarity of taste prevails in so important an affair. It is a worm for ever gnawing the root of his peace, and will prevent its growth even under the brightest sun of worldly prosperity. Let those especially who are forming connections in life, and who "love Christ in sincerity," reflect on the fatal consequences of devoting their affections to such as can never accompany them to the house of God but with reluctance, or to the throne of grace but with weariness and aversion. If the object of your fondest regard be an unbeliever, what a cloud will darken your serenest days, what unutterable grief disturb your otherwise peaceful sabbaths! Your pleasures and your pains of a religious kind, which are the most intense, will be equally unparticipated. You must walk alone in those ways of pleasantness which would be still more endeared by such sweet society; and you must suffer the keenest sorrows of the heart--perhapswithout daring to name them, andcertainlywithout one tear, one word, one look of soothing sympathy. How could you endure it that the very wife of your bosom should manifest the temper of those assassins that murdered your Lord, while in the exercise of a lively faith you hailed him as "the chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely?" Would it not agonize your heart that she should beindifferentonly, not to say inimical, towards him in whom you daily "rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory?"
In proportion to the wretchedness of such circumstances must be the felicity of the reverse, of which this narrative furnishes a pleasing exemplification. Zacharias and Elizabeth werebothrighteous, and this union of spirit diffused a holy and gladdening radiance over all the scenes of life. In the family, in the social circle, in the house of God, they were ONE. Together they could bow the knee at the throne of grace, together go up to the temple! The grief or the joy of one was the grief or the joy of both; they could sing the same song, unite in the same prayer, feast on the same spiritual food! This was the perfection of love--this was the triumph of friendship! No contrary current of feeling on either side ruffled the pure stream of domestic and religious pleasure, but it flowed along in a clear, noiseless, and perpetual course. In this case the language of David might be applied with emphatic propriety: "Behold, how good and pleasant a thing it is to dwell together in unity."
Elizabeth and her partner were "both well stricken in years." There is something venerable in hoary age, especially when adorned with the graces of the Spirit. The mind reposes with peculiar complacency on those who, having long "adorned the doctrines of God their Saviour in all things," are waiting quietly and confidently for their admission to heaven. They can see the shadows of the evening deepen upon them without a sigh; and while death is unlocking the doors of their appointed house, can sing, "Thanks be to God, that giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." While the mind of a wicked man, in the near prospect of dissolution, is filled with distraction, and "a fearful looking for of judgment--while his
"------frantic soulRaves round the walls of her clay tenement,Flies to each avenue, and cries for help--But cries in vain;------"
conscious that he is the enemy of God, the abhorrence of saints; the confederate, and will soon become the companion, of evil spirits; the dying Christian looks beyond the confines of mortality into the eternal world, without one sensation but that "of a desire to depart and to be with Christ." In quitting the present world, he expects a transition from sorrow to joy--from the region of shadows to that of realities--from the habitations of sin to the abodes of purity. Embracing Jesus by faith, he exclaims with Simeon, "Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation;" or with Paul, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me in that day."
It is pleasing to see the youthful mind impressed with the concerns of religion, devoting its powers to the Saviour, and despising the solicitations of sinful pleasure; but ah! how many cloudless mornings are succeeded by gloomy days--how many false and fruitless blossoms adorn the smiling spring--how many seeds spring up, but perish because they have "no depth of earth!" Early piety, therefore, however gratifying, cannot be contemplated without anxiety, if not suspicion; the force of temptation has not yet been endured--the world has not half exhausted its quiver of poisoned arrows--Satan has not yet tried all his arts and machinations--the race is not yet run!--but in those who, like Zacharias and Elizabeth, are "well striken in years," we witness the stability of principle, the triumph of perseverance, and the reign of grace. Dear and venerable companions in the ways of God, ye have borne the burden and heat of the day! Like a shock of corn, ye shall soon be "gathered in your season;" ye shall soon drop the infirmities of humanity, and be clothed in the robes of light! "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city."
The brief, but comprehensive notice of these venerable saints, in the commencement of the Gospel according to Luke, exhibits at once the characteristic features of their piety.
1. It was of a quality approved by God himself: for they are represented as "righteousbefore God," that is, in the divine estimation. It is this only which can determine our genuine character; for, however "outwardly virtuousbefore men," the internal spirit and character may be marked by moral deformities which the eye of Omniscience cannot but view with detestation. The most eminent Christians, indeed, are aware that perfection in righteousness is not attainable in the present state, and that when "weighed in the balances," they are in many respects "found wanting:" but while they look for acceptance through the righteousness of Christ, instead of "going about to establish their own," they possess a rectitude ofprinciple, though thedegreeof holiness be imperfect. They are sincere, habitual in their aim to please God, cherishing a supreme attachment to his name and character, and determined in their resistance of every influence that would seduce them from his service or impel them to commit sin.
2. Elizabeth and her venerable partner regulated their conduct by divine authority, irrespective of the opinions of men. They are said to "have walked in thecommandments and ordinances of the Lord." The Jews were accustomed to blend the traditions of the elders with their religious services; but these believers consulted and obeyed the oracles of Heaven. They repaired at once to the spring-head of wisdom, deriving their faith and obtaining direction with regard to their practice from Him who alone possesses the authority of a master.
This was a very decisive evidence of their religion, and is a test which is capable of being applied to every case and to every sphere of life. If the only certain evidence of true piety consisted in becoming martyrs, few could have an opportunity of evincing it, through not being called to this high and holy service; or, if the test were the distribution of ample charities, or self-devotement to the labour of the Christian ministry, the poor, and the ungifted, and ineloquent, would be excluded from the prescribed means of testifying their love to God: but obedience to his commands may be practised in the humblest circumstances, in the lowliest station, and by the most obscure individual. Any where and every where it is possible "to take up our cross," to "deny ourselves," to "mortify the flesh," to "walk in the Spirit."
3. The obedience of Elizabeth and Zacharias was universal--not partial or restricted; for they "walked inallthe commandments and ordinances of the Lord."
An insincere profession will be distinguished by partiality in its observances. It will practise some duties and reject others, believe some doctrines and hesitate to admit others. Influenced by many subordinate considerations, it will select those requirements which are most easily performed, most calculated to attract public attention, or most conformable to natural prepossessions. It will dispense with some things as difficult, and with others as unnecessary or unimportant. "Then," exclaimed the Psalmist, "shall I not be ashamed when I have respect untoallthy commandments."
4. Elizabeth and her aged companion were distinguished also for a piety which wasblameless. It is possible to merit blame even in our very acts of religious obedience. How seldom do we attain that purity ofmotive, that unostentatious simplicity ofmanner, thatuniformityof conduct, which constitute ablamelesspiety! In this respect we have daily reason, at the footstool of mercy, to deplore our deficiency, our lanquor, our lukewarmness of spirit, our unprofitableness and vileness. "If thou, Lord, wert strict to mark iniquity, O Lord, who could stand?" There is not a prayer we utter but would be rejected, were it not for the prevalence of the Redeemer's intercession, nor a service we perform, but is so defiled with guilt that it would be an abominable offering, but for the efficacy of that blood which "cleanseth us from all sin." Nor, indeed, was the piety of Zacharias and Elizabeth in itself "blameless," irrespective of this atonement; nor were they "righteous," but as accepted and justified "through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." To a lively faith they, however, united a holy conversation, and an habitual obedience: their life was a perpetual sacrifice to God, and diffused around a sweet savour of piety.
Let us contemplate thehappiness of such a life. It is common to represent religion as incompatible with true enjoyment, and to describe those who are under its influence as gloomy fanatics, dragging out a miserable existence--the dupes of prejudice and the slaves of melancholy. If a perpetual sense of the divine presence, a well-founded confidence of pardoned sin, free access to the throne of mercy, abundant communications of spiritual good and lively anticipations of a felicity beyond the grave, commensurate with the capacities of an immortal spirit, and with the everlasting ages of eternity; if these produce wretchedness, then, and in no other case, is religion a source of misery. Be not deceived; such allegations result from ignorance and depravity. Zacharias and Elizabeth, joined together by the dear bonds of mutual affection, and the still dearer ties of grace, present a picture of happiness unrivalled in the gay and thoughtless world. We appeal to them, and to those who resemble them, as "epistles" of God, that teach the efficacy of genuine religion. Read them, ye profane, and blush for your impieties! Read them, ye sons and daughters of strife, and banish discord from your houses! Read them, ye fearful, hesitating, lukewarm professors, and learn to walk in "allthe commandments and ordinances of the Lord!" Read them, ye worldly wise, ye ambitious, ye "lovers of pleasure," and confess ye have mistaken the true means to happiness, and have "forsaken your own mercies!"
It is a supereminent excellence of the religion of Jesus, that "the peace and joy in believing" which it inspires do not depend on external circumstances. As no worldly condition cancreate, so neither can itdestroythe Christian's felicity; it is firm and immoveable amidst the changes and revolutions of human affairs--in the bright or cloudy day. Like the mariner's compass, which continually points in the same direction amidst changing seasons and varying climes, the most extraordinary vicissitudes of the "present evil world," cannot "move" the mind of a believer from the "hope of the Gospel."
Reflect further, on theeffect which such a life is calculated to produce on others.
A holy life is a powerful argument for the "truth as it is in Jesus;" and that suspicious eagerness with which the wicked watch the conduct of professors, that patient malignity with which they wait for their halting, and that Satanic joy with which they exult over their misconduct, prove their own convictions of the strength of such an argument. Let us then be concerned to falsify their predictions and disappoint their enmity by "walking inallthe commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless." Consider the impressive appeal of the apostle: "Only let your conversation be as becometh the gospel of Christ." Shine, ye professing Christians, for "ye are the lights of the world"--shine with a holy and steady radiance in the church of God, and pray for daily supplies of the oil of grace, that your light may not degenerate into a feeble glimmering or totally expire; otherwise you may become accessary to the fall and ruin of others, and "their blood may be uponyou!" Such a pious union, such holy friendship as that of Elizabeth and Zacharias, will beperpetuated through infinite ages. It is not a transient but an everlasting union; it shall survive the grave and defy the stroke of mortality. They who "sleep in Jesus" will God bring with him. The sepulchre, to such as die in the faith of Christ and in a state of holy friendship with each other, only resembles a vast prison, in which dearest friends are separated only for a time in different cells, and from which they shall be released when the gloomy keeper resigns his keys, when "death is swallowed up in victory." Those humble and affectionate disciples who have "walked together in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord, here, shall take sweet counsel above, and walk together in the fields of immortality." In a nobler sense than the original application of the words, it may be said of all Christian friends, "they were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their deaths they were not divided."
This perpetuation of Christian society and love, is intimated in the most striking manner by our Redeemer when on the point of departure from his disciples, whom he called his "friends." "I will not henceforth drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom." Who can describe the joys of that "marriage-feast," the felicities of that endeared spiritual and eternal intercourse, that union of hearts, that concourse of affections, that flow and mingling of souls! These are some of "the mysteries of godliness"--this is what "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive."
Let these glorious expectations revive our failing courage amidst the conflicts of life. Let us not despair, though we may weep over the companions of our pilgrimage, slain at our side by the irresistible stroke of death. The separation is transitory--the reunion will be eternal. "But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive, and remain unto the coming of the Lord, shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then we which are alive and remain, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Wherefore comfort one another with these words."
Such as are opposite in character to Zacharias and Elizabeth, and who are "walking innoneof the commandments and ordinances of the Lord," should reflect on the misery of their condition, as utterly destitute of all those hopes and privileges which have been described. Who instituted these ordinances?--who gave these commandments?--whose authority is it you dare despise?--or who has released you from your obligations to this authority?--what madness induces you to fly in the face of God--to measure your power against the sword of Omnipotence? O, remember--"the wages of sin is death!"
Introduction of Anna into the sacred Story--inspired Description of her--the aged apt to be unduly attached to Life--Anna probably Religious at an early Period--Religion the most substantial Support amidst the Infirmities of Age--the most effectual Guard against its Vices--and the best Preparation for its End.
Two illustrious women have already been presented to the reader as adorning the era of our Saviour's incarnation; the one, the mother of his humanity, the witness of his miracles, and the weeping attendant upon his crucifixion; the other, her venerable relative, the wife of Zacharias, and the parent of John, who was the destined precursor of the "Desire of all nations." We are now to contemplate another female, whose age superadds a charm to her excellences, and whose privilege also it was to witness the commencing brightness of the evangelical day. Like Elizabeth, her "memorial" is short, but it does not "perish with her." She has a place in the chronicles of the redeemed, a name before which that of heroes and heroines fades away, and which it requires no "storied urn nor animated burst" to perpetuate.
Anna is introduced to our notice on the memorable occasion which has been already mentioned, when the parents of Jesus took him after his circumcision to Jerusalem, to "present him to the Lord." Then it was that Simeon broke forth in eloquent and prophetic congratulations, expressive at once of his own triumph over death, in consequence of having witnessed the accomplishment of those prophecies which had so long and so often filled him with delightful anticipations, and of the "glory" which he foresaw would irradiate Israel and enlighten the Gentiles. Scarcely had he finished his address, when Anna, a prophetess, remarkable for her extreme age and exemplary piety, entered the temple, and not only united with Simeon and the rest of the interesting group in "giving thanks unto the Lord," but "spake of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem."
It was benefiting the majesty of the event which had occurred, that the spirit of prophecy should revive after being dormant for about four hundred years. Since the days of Malachi no such inspiration had been afforded; but the new and glorious period commencing with the incarnation was marked by this as well as other signs and wonders. When Simeon held the infant Saviour in his arms, the Spirit of God touched his tongue with a live coal from the altar; and when the aged "daughter of Phanuel" approached, she caught the glow of kindling rapture, and blended with his her praises and predictions. This eminent woman is represented as "of a great age," as having "lived with a husband seven years from her virginity," and as being "a widow of about four-score and four years, which departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day." This form of expression does not seem to furnish decisive evidence whether her entire age was eighty-four, or whether she was a widow during that period; if the latter, the seven years in which she had lived with a husband, together with the probable number which constituted her age at the time of her marriage, must be added to the calculation, which would produce considerably more than a hundred years; in either case she must be allowed to occupy a conspicuous place in the records of longevity.
It has been observed of the aged, that although existence, when extended beyond the usual period of "threescore years and ten," is nothing "but labour and sorrow," they still adhere to life with the utmost tenacity, and are even less disposed to relinquish it than those whose more vigorous powers and undecayed youth capacitate them for its enjoyment. But however surprised we may be to witness this anxiety to live in those who are bending beneath the pressure of years and the load of decrepitude, and to see that this anxiety rather increases than diminishes, there is something in it by no means unnatural. In addition to the love of life which is implanted in every human bosom for the wisest purposes, the aged person cannot but feel that he is nearer than others to that hour of separation from all the connexions and interests of time than the multitude around him--an hour at which nature instinctively shudders, and which is always regarded as painful, whatever may be the result. Corporeal suffering may be considerable; and that change of being which the mortal stroke produces has always something about it awful, mysterious, and terrific. There are few instances in which it can be approached without some degree of dread, some shrinking of mind, whatever be the state of detachment from the present world, and whatever pleasing anticipations may exist with regard to another: as the patient, however assured of the necessity of the measure and the importance of the result, trembles while preparations are making to amputate his disordered limb. It may be observed also of the young, that while they compassionate their aged friends as the prey of a thousand imbecilities both of body and mind, and lament over a state in which man is reduced to a second childhood, there is scarcely an individual who does not harbour in secret the wish to attain an age equal at least, if not superior, to any of his cotemporaries. The reason is similar to that which influences persons at an advanced period of life; the thought of death, with all its concomitant evils, is unwelcome at any time, and consequently it is grateful to the mind to place it at the greatest conceivable distance; so that, were it now within the appointments of Providence or the bounds of probability, little doubt can be entertained that the great proportion of mankind would readily accept as a blessing a patriarchal or antediluvian age.
Anna is particularly noticed as the daughter of Phanuel, of whom we have no other information; and as belonging to the tribe of Asher, which was situated in Galilee. This, whether recorded for that purpose or not, might serve to refute the charge, that "out of Galilee ariseth no prophet," since from that quarter proceeded the very first inspirations upon the revival of the prophetic spirit. Asher was a very inferior tribe, and one of the ten carried captive by the Assyrians, having departed from the worship of the true God, and from the house of David, under Jeroboam. But notwithstanding this general defection, there were individuals who returned and reunited themselves with Judah, that they might enjoy the ancient privileges of the people of God. Thus even in the worst of times, and amidst the least favourable circumstances, some portion of true religion has always been preserved in the earth. Though the watchful eye of Providence has occasionally suffered the flame of devotion to languish and almost expire, yet its total extinction has been prevented, and unexpected coincidences have frequently excited it into new and more vigorous action.
We have in the history before us a specimen of a pious old age, remarkable in itself, and calculated to suggest a variety of useful considerations. This holy woman probably lodged in the immediate vicinity, if not in some of the outward apartments of the temple, which gave her an opportunity of indulging in those constant devotions which accorded with her wishes and comported with her age. On every occasion she was present at appointed services, and so entire was her self-devotement to religion, that she was incessantly engaged in fasting and prayers. The world had no claims upon her, being alike unfitted for any of its avocations and indisposed to any of its pleasures: she had bid it a final farewell, and had withdrawn behind the scenes of this vast theatre, which are so artfully painted as to allure and deceive the imaginations of mankind, into the secrecy of devotion and the sanctuary of her God. Peace was the companion of her retirement, and piety shed its serenest ray upon the evening of her mortal existence.
It may be presumed that the religion of Anna was by no means of recent date, but that the seeds of so rich a harvest were sown "in the fields of youth." Whatever is great or eminent is usually the work of time.Naturedoes not produce the oak, with its spreading branches and solid trunk, in a day or a twelve month; and, in general, a rapid luxuriancy is connected with corresponding weakness and quick decay. The plans ofProvidencerequire the lapse of years or ages to accomplish: events of importance seldom burst suddenly upon the world, and without a previous course of preparatory dispensations, tending to point out the purposes of such occurrences, and to awaken human expectations. Nor canexcellence of characterbe formed without the use of means, opportunities of progressive improvement, and that experience which must be slowly gained.
Far be it from us to limit the operations of divine grace: itcan, indeed, and in some instanceshas, produced effects of a nature to which no general rules and principles are applicable: it has instantaneously converted a furious persecutor into a faithful, laborious, and eminent preacher of "the faith which once he destroyed;" it has transformed a malefactor into a saint, and in one hour raised the criminal from the depths of infamy and the agonies of crucifixion to the dignity of a believer in Christ and the joys of paradise. But these surely ought not to be regarded as the ordinary methods of its operation, but rather as miraculous interferences. In general, religious ordinances are to be constantly and perseveringly attended, in order to the acquisition of eminence in religion: holy vigilance must concur with devout and fervent prayer, day by day, to check and finally vanquish the power of depravity, to elevate the mind above the world, and prepare the Christian for his future bliss; as the child must commonly be "trained upin the way he should go," if we hope that "when he is old he will not depart from it." Impressions deepen and acquire the force of principles by degrees, knowledge is obtained by perpetual accumulation, and faith is increased by constant exercise. It would be as vain to look for the wrinkles of age in the face of youth, or the strength of maturity in the arm of an infant, as to expect the experience which can only result from the witness of changes and the operation of circumstances, with its corresponding stability of character, in him who has but just commenced a life of piety. As "the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruits of the earth, and hath long patience for it until he receive the early and the latter rain," so we must in general look for a slow and gradual formation of the character to eminence and spiritual luxuriancy. The account given of Anna would therefore lead us to infer that she had been many years, and in all probability from her youth, devoted to the service of God.
She had not to regret that her best days were spent in riot and dissipation, in opposition or indifference to religion, by which so many debase their nature, offend their Maker, and ruin their souls: but while she contemplated the future without alarm, and perhaps with joy, she could review the past with satisfaction.
As memory predominates over the other faculties of the mind in declining life, and as so much of our happiness or misery at that period must necessarily result from its exercise, it is of the utmost importance to lay up in store a good provision in the "sacred treasure of the past." Nothing can be more desirable than to leave the mind filled with pleasing recollections; and this can arise only from a life of holiness and purity. How awful is it to think that the last hours should be disturbed by images of crime unrepented of, the intrusion of which into the dying chamber no force can prevent! How lamentable to see the terrors of death aggravated by the remorse and horrors of retrospection! "Life," says a profound writer, [25] "in which nothing has been done or suffered to distinguish one day from another, is to him that has passed it as if it had never been, except that he is conscious how ill he has husbanded the great deposit of his Creator. Life, made memorable by crimes, and diversified through its several periods by wickedness, is indeed easily reviewed, but reviewed only with horror and remorse.
"The great consideration which ought to influence us in the use of the present moment, is to arise from the effect which, as well or ill applied, it must have upon the time to come; for, though its actual existence be inconceivably short, yet its effects are unlimited, and there is not the smallest point of time but may extend its consequences, either to our hurt or our advantage, through all eternity, and give us reason to remember it forever with anguish or exultation." We may take occasion from the account of Anna to remark, that true religion is the most substantial support amidst the INFIRMITIES of age. This is emphatically the period of "evil days," when diseases prey upon the constitution, and the faculties both of body and mind decay. Then "the sun and the light, the moon and the stars are darkened;" the greatest change takes place in the outward circumstances of gladness and prosperity, the countenance of the man is altered, his complexion faded, and his intellectual faculties, as the understanding and the fancy, weakened. It is at this time "the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men how themselves; the grinders cease, because they are few, and those that look out of the windows are darkened;" the strongest members of the body fail, the limbs bend beneath the weight of decrepitude and the effects of paralytic distempers, the teeth drop away, while the eyes grow dim and languid; "the doors are shut in the streets when the sound of the grinding is low," the mouth becoming sunken and closed; they "rise up at the voice of the bird," awakened from imperfect slumber when the cock crows or the birds begin their early songs; and "all the daughters of music," the tongue that expresses and the ears that are charmed with it, are "brought low;" they are "afraid of that which is high, and fears are in the way," alarmed at every step they take, lest they should stumble at the slightest obstacle, and especially apprehensive of the difficulties of any ascent. At that age their gray hairs thicken like the white flowers of the "almond tree" when it "flourishes," and even the very "grasshopper is a burden," for they cannot bear the slightest inconvenience, not even the weight of an insect, and "desire fails:" then is the "silver cord loosed, the golden bowl broken; the pitcher is broken at the fountain, and the wheel is broken at the cistern;" all the animal and vital functions at length cease, and every essential organ of life decays; "then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it."
Reduced to the state of feebleness and incapacity, which the sacred penman so beautifully describes, man becomes an object of compassion; and it is affecting to see him struggling amidst the ruins of his former self. The sight becomes increasingly painful from the consideration that this is one day to be our own condition; that we too are destined to grow old, to quit the busy scene and the social circle for the solitude of age, and in our turn to be pitied--perhaps forsaken! But there is one thing capable not only of preserving the old from contempt, but of raising them to grandeur and diffusing lustre over their years of decrepitude. In contemplating Anna we do not think of her infirmities when we observe her piety: the meanness of thewoman--tottering, crippled, dying--is lost amidst the majesty of thesaint, incessantly serving God in his temple, and advancing to the grave "in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in his season." The dawning of a heavenly day seems to arise upon her "hoary head:" which, "being found in the way of righteousness," is a "crown of glory."
Anna's history further suggests, that religion is the most effectual guard against the VICES of advanced age. One of these is a spirit ofquerulousness. It is the common practice of those who believe themselves entitled to veneration on account of their years, to complain of the arrogant disregard of their counsels, which they impute to the rising generation. Cherishing the highest opinion of their own sentiments, to which they attribute a kind of infallibility, as being founded upon experience, they naturally expect implicit submission to their dictates and an exact conformity to their views: they require not only to be heard, but obeyed, and are impatient at the folly of those who rebel against their wisdom. Hence originate the often repeated tales of the degeneracy of the present times, and the growing insolence of the young. It may, indeed, be admitted, that, other things being equal, the aged have a just claim upon the attention of the young, whom they are sometimes qualified to instruct; but surely they are not always entitled to the same reverence, and age does not necessarily confer wisdom. Genuine humility, however, tends to correct the spirit of dictation, while it combines with an affectionate concern for the interests of those who are newly come into life; and genuine humility is the product of religion, which supplies motives to give advice with kindness, and to endure the rejection of it without anger.
Another fault of age, is the indulgenceof useless regrets for the past. In reviewing life, it is easy to discover instances of our own incaution or negligence, which have possibly influenced our affairs and been connected with many subsequent disappointments. We have not availed ourselves of fortunate conjunctures, or we have rejected profitable offers; one scheme has failed by our precipitancy, another by our procrastination--some persons, perhaps, have been foolishly trusted, and others as foolishly suspected--we have occasionally listened to advice which should not have been taken, or rejected what would have proved advantageous; and the consequence has been some diminution of fortune, some disappointment of our expectations, some failure in the crop of earthly enjoyment which we had anticipated. If it were possible to recall the years which have for ever rolled away, or if the felicity of a rational and immortal being consisted in the possession of temporal abundance, worldly honour, or corporeal gratification, these regrets would have some show of propriety, and might at least secure a patient hearing; hut it is certain, they only betray a weak or a wicked mind; it is perhaps equally certain, they will generally continue to occupy the thoughts of the aged. There is, in fact, but one remedy, "pure and undefiled religion." It is this alone which can fix in the mind a full persuasion of thenothingnessof terrestrial pleasures and possessions. This only can console us after our ineffectual efforts to "gain the whole world," or amidst the loss of riches which have "taken to themselves wings," and long since "fled away," by the assurance, that nothing we ever possessed was adequate to render us happy, without other and better enjoyments--that upon a fair estimate, it is questionable whether the perplexities it occasioned did not counterbalance the advantages it either bestowed or promised--and that could wenowcall our own whatever we have most valued or desired of worldly good, it would prove incapable of making us substantially happy.Heneed not wish to renew life, who has the hope of a better existence--nor regret the loss of temporal advantages, if he have immortal good. He who "lays up for himself treasures in heaven," may defy the storms of time, and adopt the triumphant language of the apostle, amidst the wreck of earthly good, "having nothing, yet possessing all things."
Similar views and principles alone can correct a third error of age, namely, the aim toprolong juvenility to an unnatural period. "To secure to the old that influence which they are willing to claim, and which might so much contribute to the improvement of the arts of life, it is absolutely necessary that they give themselves up to the duties of declining years; and contentedly resign to youth its levity, its pleasures, its frolics, and its fopperies. It is a hopeless endeavour to unite the contrarieties of spring and winter; it is unjust to claim the privileges of age, and retain the playthings of childhood. The young always form magnificent ideas of the wisdom and gravity of men whom they consider as placed at a distance from them in the ranks of existence, and naturally look on those whom they find trifling with long beards, with contempt and indignation, like that which women feel at the effeminacy of men. If dotards will contend with boys in those performances in which boys must always excel them, if they will dress crippled limbs in embroidery, endeavour at gayety with faltering voices, and darken assemblies of pleasure with the ghastliness of disease, they may well expect those who find their diversions obstructed will hoot them away; and that if they descend to competition with youth, they must bear the insolence of successful rivals." [26]
Religion also must be regarded as the best preparation for that END of life, with which old age is so closely connected. However proper it may be to realize this eventful time, at every period from our earliest to our latest day, it cannot but be regarded as more certainly and evident near at an advanced age. Anna, after the lapse of a century, had greater reason, surely, to apprehend her dissolution, than in the bloom of youth, or at the commencement of her widowhood; and how appaling the prospect!
It would diminish the impression we have of the terror of death, if his dominion were limited to a part of the world, or to any ascertainable extent of years; but, while his authority continues unimpaired and his stroke irresistible, the power he is permitted to exercise over humankind is universal. In visiting the repositories of the dead, it is calculated to awaken our liveliest sensibilities to trace the reign of the "king of terrors" upon the sepulchral stone, or the marble monument. In characters which time has almost erased, we read the records of the past, and by a more than probable analogy penetrate some of the mysteries of the future. Here and there occur the names of those who were venerable for age, remarkable for their exploits, conspicuous by their station, rank, or talent--GREAT by the consent of their cotemporaries--who once figured upon a stage which is now decayed, or where illustrious in an empire which is now passed away. Some have been smitten by death's withering hand at an earlier, some at a later period of life. Adjoining the grave of age is the tomb of youth. There you see the stone half buried in accumulating heaps of earth, and the inscriptions of love and tenderness obscured by collecting moss; while the hand that wrote them has long since become motionless, and the heart that dictated them ceased to beat.
It is affecting to visit places of public resort, under the full influence of the consideration, that this busy and anxious crowd will soon disappear--their race will be run, and the immortal prize gained--or--lost! These possessors of the soil will, in a little time, be disinherited--these tenants of a day exchanged--the funeral pall will cover the most ambitious and the most active of them all, and the motley multitude be succeeded by others equally busy, equally anxious, equally thoughtless of another state of being--and equallymortal!
But these sentiments, however calculated to fill irreligious persons with dread and melancholy, can produce no despondency in those who, like Anna, are accustomed to the truths of religion, and derive the chief pleasure both of their youthful and decrepit age from the services of religion. With regard todeath itselfthey are taught that his power is limited to the body, and that it is restricted even to a short period over this inferior part of our nature; and as to itsconsequences, they cannot incessantly frequent the temple, and be occupied in devotion, without learning the value, as well as the reality, of those considerations which are drawn from eternity. They know that "this corruptible shall put on incorruption, this mortal put on immortality," and that then "there shall be no more death." And what do these expressions imply, but,the entire renovation of our nature?--Man is mortal, because he is sinful; and, consequently, the removal of sin will prove the extinction of death. It is only by the introduction of moral evil that the earth has been converted into a vast cemetery, and life become a short and rugged passage to the sepulchre; but when it shall no longer prevail, our sanctified nature will inherit the abodes of purity and undecaying existence. It is this consideration which endears celestial felicity. Exemption from death implies deliverance from sin, and the Christian wishes to possess a character which God shall approve, and to be cleansed from those stains of guilt which infect his present being, and render him offensive to his Father in heaven. Were he destined always to be unholy, he would scarcely contemplate immortality as a blessing; but because he has reason to anticipate "a waking" from the sleep of the grave, in the divine "likeness," he realizes a period in the bright annals of his future being, when he shall no longer have occasion to exclaim, "O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" The pains ofseparation, too, which afflict this mortal state, cannot exist in that "better country." Society will unquestionably prove one considerable source of the happiness of heaven, where immortal beings will be so circumstanced and capacitated, as both to receive and impart enjoyment. The very nature of man is constituted social; and though our circumstances in this life often render temporary separations unavoidable, in a perfect state of society they must be needless; consequently they will not be suffered to impair the joys of paradise.
The most afflictive of all separations, is that which is occasioned by death. In all other cases, a lingering hope may exist of a reunion at some period however distant; at leastthe possibility ofit is cheering: but, even if there be no reasonable expectation of this, the very consciousness that our friend is still alive, still on earth, still capable of receiving and performing acts of kindness, still able to communicate with us by letter or by message, to participate our pleasures, to sympathize with our sorrows, and to pray for our welfare, is consoling in every vicissitude;--but when death sets his awful seal upon our companion, relative or friend, we cherish a deeper feeling of grief, and cannot look to anyearthlymeans of consolation--but wecanlook to aheavenlyone! Whatever resource fails, the religion of the Bible supplies inexhaustible springs of comfort. God is on high--Jesus "ever lives"--Christians know they shall soon pass into a world where the happy circle will never be broken, the communion of kindred spirits never cease, the day of blessedness never decline, the sabbath of immortality never terminate.
It is in the temple also, that those who like Anna receive just impressions from its services, and live in a state of holy intercourse with God, learn to appreciate the capacities of a spiritual mind for progression in wisdom and felicity, and by consequence to cherish the noblest anticipations of their own future possible elevation of character. How many unfinished schemes are frustrated by death! Our plans of futurity, our purposes of gain, or our resolves of usefulness, may be ended in one short hour. Here the labours of the industrious, the studies of the learned, the investigations of the philosopher, and the career of the pious, close. The grave silences the voice of the preacher, and paralyzes the hand of the charitable. Here the arguments of a Paul end--here the silver tongue of an Apollos is speechless--here the hands of a Dorcas cease to manufacture for the poor, whose unavailing tears cannot recall departed piety.
But who will define the limits of possible attainment in knowledge and excellence in a state of deathless existence? Society is always improving, even in the present world, amidst all its imperfections. The researches of past ages have transmitted a vast stock of wisdom to their successors, both in reference to natural science and religious truth. Who can tell what discoveries a Newton might have made, had he possessed a terrestrial immortality? or who can conceive what heights and depths of divine knowledge might have been disclosed, had the apostles of Christ been permitted to live to the present period, and had it been the will of God that they should have received a constant succession of revelations?
In both these cases, not only has death terminated this series of bright discovery, but this earth is not the destined place, nor time the destined period, for those manifestations of eternal wisdom, which we have reason to believe will take place in another world. Those impediments to knowledge, and those reasons for concealment, which at present exist, will be removed, and truth open all her treasures to immortalized and sanctified spirits. The consequence of the progressive disclosure of spiritual things, of the works and ways of God, will be progressive improvement: and, as in consequence of the clearer development of truth in the Gospel, "he who is least in the kingdom of heaven, is greater than John the Baptist;" so when all the shadows and clouds that bedim our present existence shall have disappeared, and a ray of heaven pours its glorious illumination upon the mysteries of time, the least in the paradise of God will be greater than the most distinguished in his church on earth. And as we never shall cease to improve in knowledge--for there will be no termination to our spiritual researches--there will probably arrive a period in eternity, when he who at the resurrection will be least in the heavenly world in capacity and glory, will become greater in consequence of ever new discoveries, than at that moment will be the greatest of the redeemed universe. And the meanest Christian on earth may indulge the hope that, at a future age, even he may become superior in knowledge, in love, in capacity, and in glory, to what the brightest seraph or the tallest archangel, is at present in the heaven of heavens; for who can tell what God may do for beatified souls? who dare limit the operations of his mercy, or who can imagine to what an elevation of wisdom and felicity an emparadised believer may attain?
Progression is the law of a thinking being. And why should it not operate upon holy intelligences in the future state, as well as in the present? and why not when "there shall be no more death," to an incalculably greater extent? Why should not every new idea acquired in that world become a seed of truth in the mind, that shall spring up and bear fruit, multiply and expand, without restriction and without end?--
There is not in religion a nobler or a more animating sentiment, than this perpetual advancement of the soul towards perfection. Life has its maturity and decline, nature its boundaries of beauty, human affairs their zenith of glory; but, in "the new heavens and new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness," every thing will be eternally upon the advance--there will be no end to the path of knowledge--present acquisitions will be the basis of subsequent acquirements--we shall be continually outshining ourselves, by making nearer approaches to infinite goodness--and the whole moral creation will be forever beautifying in the eyes of God.
Account of Christ's Journey through Samaria--he arrives at Jacob's Well--enters into conversation with a Woman of the Country--her Misapprehensions--the Discovery of his Character to her as a Prophet--her Convictions--her Admission of his Claim as the true Messiah, which she reports in the City--the great and good Effect--Reflections.
Every incident in the life of Christ is illustrative of the evangelical testimony, "he went about doing good." His efforts were not partial, nor confined to particular occasions; but, availing himself of all the opportunities which occurred, either in public or in private, to promote the welfare of mankind, time never measured out an idle hour--the sun never sat upon a useless day!
It may be truly said, with regard to those who imbibe the spirit of their Master, "no man liveth to himself." Nothing can be more remote from genuine Christianity, than that selfishness which is characteristic of a worldly disposition, and which with an uniform and undeviating assiduity, seeks its own interests and purposes: while nothing can so fully comport with its nature, and evince its prevalence, as that charity which is limited only by the period of human life, the extent of means, and the boundaries of creation.
"When the Lord knew that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus made and baptized more disciples than John ... he left Judea and departed again into Galilee."
The jealousy of his enemies induced them to become narrow observers of all the proceedings of Christ; and, knowing their spirit, he removed to some distance: not, however, through fear--nor (as some expositors have stated) lest they should put him to death; for his hour was not yet come--and it would have been impossible to counteract the purposes of Heaven. He could easily have eluded their utmost vigilance and malignity, as on a certain occasion, when "passing through the midst of them, he went his way." But our Lord did not think proper to disclose himself at once, and in a very public manner. It was not his intention to astonish, but gradually to excite the attention of the Jewish nation, to furnish evidences of his mission to humble and contrite minds, and to lay the foundation of a future work, rather than to operate on a very extended scale himself. In this manner was accomplished the prophecy of Isaiah, "He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment unto truth."
His route lay through Samaria; any other way to Galilee would have been very circuitous: and this is mentioned, because of the directions to his disciples, "Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not; but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." The hour for that enlarged operation of mercy amongst the Gentiles, which had been so long predicted, was not yet arrived, though it was now approaching with desirable rapidity. The dispensations of God are inscrutable to mortals, to whom it seems profoundly mysterious, that the purposes of love to man should first be delayed for so many ages, and then manifested by the work of Christ to so limited an extent. Here we must "walk by faith, not by sight;" while, upon every leaf in the great volume of providence, it is legibly written, "My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways, higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."
It has been piously remarked, that the evangelist refers, by the expression, "he mustneeds gothrough Samaria," to our Saviour's purposes of mercy to that vicinity; and undoubtedly it is true, that he was powerfully impelled and irresistibly guided, wherever he went. Nothing could obstruct his designs of mercy, or his labours of love. No force could prevent his benevolent progress: as well might human or diabolical agency attempt to arrest the sun in his course, or stop the march of time.--"My Father worketh hitherto, and I work." "Imustwork the works of him that sent me, while it is day; the night cometh, when no man can work."
In his journey, Jesus came to a city of Samaria calledSychar, which appears to have been the same with theSichemorShechemof the Old Testament; [27] where was a well, to which tradition had assigned the name of Jacob, as having been originally dug by that patriarch. It was now about the sixth hour, or noon, and the climate being exceedingly sultry, Jesus, under the pressure of fatigue, sat down by the well.
Let us for a moment turn aside, like Moses, to "see this great sight." Jesus "sat thus on the well," as the weary traveller seeks a renewal of his strength by temporary repose. What majesty and mystery surround the spot, when we recall the ancient oracles to mind, which represent him as "the Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace;" and compare descriptions of this nature with the evangelical record of his own words, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests: but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head."
What a scene for ministering spirits, who had been accustomed to behold and adore him, but who now witnessed his abasement! What a contrast between "the Lamb in the midst of the throne," and Jesus sitting on a well, and afterward suspended on a cross--between the "King of glory:" and the weary traveller--the "Lord of lords," and the "man of sorrows!"
Let us derive instruction, as well as consolation, from this scene. "We have not a high-priest, who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities: but was in all points tempted, like as we are, yet without sin." If the Saviour had appeared upon earth in external splendour, and in a manner which to human apprehension would have comported better with the majesty of his nature and the pre-eminence of his celestial glory, our insignificance would have created a sense of unapproachable distance: we should have been moreastonishedthanattracted--moreconfoundedthan,conciliated. But he disrobed himself of ineffable brightness to bring us nigh, and to produce a just and holy familiarity, saying to his disciples, "I have calledyou friends."
Let us be reconciled to the infirmities, pains, and poverty we may suffer; for it is "sufficient for the servant to be as his master." More elevated stations in life would be attended with more danger to our spiritual character, and expose us to more afflictions; as mountains in proportion to their height attract clouds and tempests. The present is a state of trial for the righteous; but however distressing or obscure our way, Jesus has trod it before us--sanctifying the path of sorrow by his presence, and plucking up many of its thorns. Place his example before your eyes--observe his humble life--his assumed poverty--his unaffected condescension! To the poor he preached--with the poor he lived--theirdress he wore--and their lowly sphere he chose and honoured!
How many of the most important events of our lives may be traced to trifling circumstances! A single step may have a remote, but very obvious connexion with the greatest results. A single turn in the journey of life may influence the happiness, and direct the course of years! "There cometh a woman of Samaria, to draw water." Nothing could be more apparently incidental; and yet he who thinks rightly will perceive it to be a link in the great chain of Providence, which was absolutely essential to the completion of the whole. It was in the purpose of God, that many of the Samaritans of that city should believe--that this conviction should be wrought by that woman, who herself should be forcibly impressed by the proofs with which she was furnished in the relation of her most private domestic concerns. Had she come earlier or later, Jesus had not been there!
We must trace the links of this chain further. The malignity of the Pharisees induced Jesus to leave Judea; and both convenience, and perhaps a moral necessity, impelled him here. His arrival at that hour--his stay--the opportunity occasioned by the absence of his disciples--were all appointed by superintending wisdom. Who knows what a day or an hour may bring forth! Little did this Samaritan woman expect such a meeting, such a traveller, or such a conversation; so wisely and so wonderfully are the plans of Providence arranged!
How often has the promise been accomplished, "I was found of them that sought me not!" To some unforeseen occurrence--some accidental meeting--some trifling coincidence, Christians may often trace their first conversion, and their best impressions. A stranger--a word, a casualty, has proved the means of spiritual illumination; and while the recollection of these circumstances often solace them in the vale of tears, we doubt not but they will furnish a subject of pleasing contemplation and adorning gratitude, when they shall have attained the perfection of their being on the heights of immortality.
"Jesus saith unto her, Give me to drink:" a very natural request from a weary stranger, and one with which, from the common hospitality of the times, he might expect a ready compliance. The evil effect of luxury is, that it has multiplied our artificial necessities, and diminished our benevolent feelings; in a simpler state of society, the wants of mankind are fewer and more easily supplied.
The woman paused and inquired, "How is it that thou, being a Jew, asketh drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria? for the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans." Alas! where rancorous animosity exists, how frequently the laws of hospitality, and the principles even of humanity, are sacrificed! The Sanhedrim interdicted any friendly intercourse with the Samaritans, and the Jews cursed them by the secret name of God; and as this mutual animosity existed, the woman received our Saviour's request with a reproachful sneer.
The enmity subsisting between the Jews and Samaritans was very ancient in its origin, and exceedingly inveterate in its character. It had also been aggravated by different incidents. When the ten tribes revolted in the time of Jeroboam, the calves were set up in Dan and Bethel, with a view to seduce the people from worshipping at Jerusalem, which was of course highly offensive to Judah and Benjamin; and when Shalmaneser, the king of Assyria, carried away the ten tribes into captivity, he colonized the cities of Samaria with the Babylonians and others, who carried their false religion with them; in consequence of which they became odious to the Jews. At first, the providence of God punished these idolatrous settlers, by permitting lions to infest the country, whose ravages induced Shalmaneser to send one of the priests "to teach them the manner of the God of the land;" when theyunitedthe worship of the Jehovah with that of their own idols. These people very much discouraged the Jews in the erection of the second temple, after their return from captivity.
After this, when Alexander had conquered Syria and Palestine, Sanballat, who governed the province of Samaria for Darius, submitted to the conqueror; and having married his daughter to Manasseh, the brother of Jaddua the high-priest, he obtained permission from Alexander to build a temple on mount Gerizzim, in imitation of that which was built at Jerusalem. [28] Manasseh was constituted the high-priest, a multitude of Jews mixed with the Samaritans, and a distinct service, after the Jewish mode of worship, was conducted. This occasioned great contentions, and suspended all intercourse between the rival nations. The Samaritans are generally said to have admitted little more of the Old Testament than the Pentateuch; but Justin Martyr, who was a native of Sichem, affirms that they received all the prophetic writings. [29]
Drop a pitying tear over human weakness, folly, and crime. What divisions separate the human race, and exasperate men against each other! But of all others, they are the most inveterate, which are produced on account of religion. The Samaritan appoints Gerizzim as the place of worship, in opposition to Jerusalem--the fires of persecution are instantly kindled, and the victims of intolerance suffer martyrdom!
To the reproachful insinuation of the woman, Christ returned no answer, for it kindled no resentment. When he was reviled, he reviled not again: but with his characteristic condescension and eagerness to instruct the ignorant, he said, "If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water." This language was expressive of his readiness and ability to supply the necessities of the destitute, to console the afflicted, and to save the lost. By the "gift of God," he intended divine bounty in general; by "living water," the blessings of salvation, especially the gifts and graces of "his holy Spirit." [30]
The conciliating and affectionate manner of Christ's appeal to the woman, appears to have softened her turbulent spirit, and won her respect. She uses an epithet of respect previously omitted, "Sir,"--perceiving that, though apparently aJew, he possessed none of that rancorous enmity which characterizes others, and cherished national antipathies. "A soft answer turneth away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger." Offences are likely to arise in the present world; but let us rather aim to disarm malignity by conciliation, than strengthen and envenom it by resistance. Soft words may in time operate on hardened hearts, as water continually dropping on the rock wears it away. Such a mode of proceeding costs us little, but tends much to dignify and exalt us. "Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? let him show out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom. But if ye have bitter envying and strife in your hearts, glory not, and lie not against the truth. This wisdom descendeth not from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish. For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work. But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace."
Our Saviour's discourse was further distinguished by "exceeding great and precious promises;" and the woman seems to have partaken of similar surprise with those who are said to have "wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth." As a "fountain of living waters," he was always pouring forth refreshing streams; as the depository of wisdom and knowledge, he incessantly communicated his treasures of sacred instruction; and as the "Sun of righteousness," he constantly imparted his heavenly light and heating beams. Who could approach him without feeling the benign influence, and being benefitted by the rich supply?
As the term which Christ had employed in a spiritual sense, simply denoted excellent spring water in common language, the woman at present conceived no other idea of his meaning; and seeing he was a stranger, with no bucket, she expressed her astonishment at his promise. With some mysterious impression, probably, of his extraordinary character, blended with incredulity, she proceeded to inquire, "Art thou greater than our father Jacob, which gave us the well, and drank thereof himself, and his children, and his cattle?"
This may furnish an exemplification of the fact, that the "natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." The terras of Christianity are mysterious, because its doctrines are misunderstood, and cannot be discerned by him, the "eyes of whose understanding" are beclouded, and whose heart is sensual. How deplorable the effects of sin, which has drawn a veil over the moral perceptions of man; in consequence of which, he cannot see the glories of truth, the charms of Jesus, the value of his soul, and the importance of its redemption! Nothing but the glare of earthly grandeur can affect him, while eternity with all its vast concerns disappears.