Christ Healing the Sick.
Ifwe look into the history of Bonaparte, or Cæsar, or Alexander, we shall see that their lives were chiefly employed in killing people; in making war, by which men, women and children suffered the most dreadful agony, misery and death.
It seems to be a natural idea for men of powerful minds and great ambition, to aim at subduing their fellow-men, and when these resist, to kill them. And, strange to say, the greater number a man kills, the greater hero he is.
Such is the way with mankind. How wonderful it is, then, to take up the New Testament, and read the history of Jesus Christ. How unlike he is, to the great men of the earth—to the Cæsars, the Alexanders and the Napoleons!
In the fourth chapter of Matthew, we are told that, after leaving Nazareth, Jesus began to preach repentance, and to heal all manner of sickness and disease. Instead of wounding and killing mankind, he went about doing good.
“And his fame”—says the sacred story,—“went throughout all Syria; and they brought unto him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatic, and those which had the palsy; and he healed them.”
What a wonderful—what a beautiful story is this! Who had ever set such an example? Whatmanhad ever conceived the idea of going about doing good? Whathuman beinghad ever the idea, the purpose, and the power, of going about, curing all manner of diseases?
Surely this was unlikehuman nature, and altogether beyondhuman power; it was evidently adivinecharacter, exercisingdivinepower. He came to save a world which was lost; for he saw that the “heart of man was only evil, and that continually.” He came to atone for the sins of mankind; to reconcile a holy God to a sinful world.
The more we contemplate the character of Jesus Christ, the more will it rise in beauty and grandeur before our minds. Let us form of him the most noble and lofty conceptions, we shall still see him towering above and beyond them.
It does not require a great mind, but only a holy heart, to see Christ in his majesty and beauty. Thus it is that such a man as Bonaparte, having no just moral vision, no eye for goodness, sees in Christ only a strange being, whom he conceives to be bewildered with his own fancies; while a simple-minded, but still inspired apostle, calls him “my Lord and my God!” See John, 20thchap., 28th verse.
The difference between the worldly spirit of selfish man, and the spirit of Christianity, may be strikingly presented, by selecting two pictures, and placing them side by side. Let us take a picture of Bonaparte, representing him in one of the leading actions of his life—and what do we see? He is fighting a battle; around him are the engines of death; blood flows on every hand; the screams of the wounded, the agonies of the dying, fill the air; the earth is strewed with ghastly forms; the very heavens are black with the smoke of thedeadly conflict.And this is human glory! This is human nature!
healing the sickChrist healing the Sick.
Christ healing the Sick.
Let us turn to another picture, that painted by West, of which we give an engraving; it isChrist healing the sick. Does not every child see the difference betweenhuman gloryandChristianity; between the things to which human nature and human pride lead us, and the things to which Christ would lead us? Does not every child see the deformity of one picture when placed by the side of the other picture? How poor, paltry and mean is that spirit which sacrifices all to self! How lofty that god-like spirit, which embraces all mankind in its generous love of doing good! How contemptible is the worldling! How elevated the true Christian!