Parable of the Great Supper

Tesus left Jerusalem about the close of the Feast of Dedication, or shortly before the beginning of the year, and His raising of Lazarus occurred certainly within a few weeks thereafter. Turning therefore again into Perea, His ministry in that province continued for nearly if not quite, three months, or until the Feast of the Passover, celebrated in the month Nisan, corresponding with March- April. The Jewish method of calculating time was so different from our own, and withal so difficult to determine from the data available that the period of the celebration of the festivals can only be approximated. The Hebrew months were about twenty-nine days in length, corresponding to a lunation, so that the cycle of religious feasts commencing with the Passover, as Smith says, depended not simply on the month but on the moon. The usual number of months in a year was twelve, but as the year was also calculated by the seasons, another month was added every third year, so that some years had thirteen months; consequently the Passover feast, always occurring during the full moon, fell on different dates between the middle of March and the middle of April. But though Jesus remained in Perea only a short while, within this period are compressed many of His most remarkable miracles, and during which He delivered His most impressive and beautiful parables. How extensive was His circuit in Perea we know not, but it was probably a large one, judging by His works and the extent of His teaching after turning His footsteps towards Jerusalem to attend the Passover. Luke says He went through the cities and villages of Perea, and was everywhere attended by large crowds, who received His teachings with much favor, and many believed on Him. So popular had He become that the Pharisees, being unable to withstand His growing fame, thought to frighten Him out of the country, and hence a party of them came to Him saying: “Get Thee out and depart hence; for Herod will kill Thee.” But instead of exciting His fears, Jesus turned to them and said, “Go ye and tell that fox, behold I cast out devils, and I do cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I shall be perfected.” Or in other words: “Herod is a crafty fox, and is jealous of the favor in which I am held; he is in great anxiety about His throne, and would no doubt kill Me if he could; but go back to Jerusalem and tell him that since it is given Me to cast out devils, I have the power to cast him out also, to circumvent any of his designs, for until the time of My offering up is at hand, no man may either bind or kill Me.”

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The report of Herod’s purpose seems to have stirred in Jesus a reflective mood, and, thinking of the mercurial and vengeful disposition of His race, and of the Holy City in which so many crimes in the name of religion had been perpetrated, and of His own sacrifice which was now near at hand, He lifted up His voice in a spirit of lamentation: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold your house is left unto you desolate; and verily I say unto you, Ye shall not see Me until the time come when ye shall say, ‘Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.’”

The Dropsical Patient.

So popular was Jesus in Perea that many Pharisees even courted His favor and showed Him many social attentions. One of these, who was a chief, or possibly a rabbi, invited a number of friends to meet Jesus at a dinner given at the Pharisee’s house on a Sabbath, with half-sinister and half-friendly intention, no doubt to watch Him in social intercourse with the hope of discovering an act which might be interpreted to the people as an offence, and failing in this to leave the impression that they were favorable to His purposes and commended His teaching. The company were assembled, but had not yet lain down to the meal, when a man seriously ill of dropsy entered, not with the boldness of an invited guest, but with an abject appearance indicating his anxiety to see Jesus and to receive such help as doctors had been unable to give him. There he stood just within the threshold, in cowering attitude, apparently afraid to speak lest speech should emphasize his presence and cause the master of the house to eject him. But his bloated features, repulsive enough to have excused a postponement of the meal, were quickly noticed by Jesus, who, understanding the formalism and rigid observance of the Sabbath by those who surrounded Him, anticipated the objections which they would make to a deed of mercy performed on that day by asking the guests this question: “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day?” But they refused to answer because they had heard Him reproach the irJuunanitj’ of the rabbi who condemned the healing of the rheumatic woman. Finding that the guests would not raise a contention over such an act of mercy He cured the man, and then again turned to the company to ask: “Which of you shall have an ass or an ox fallen into a pit, and will not straightway pull him out on the Sabbath day?” But they saw the application of the inquiry, and held their peace.

The Invited Guests Send Their “Regrets,”

As explained in a previous chapter, the couches on which the guests reclined at a Jewish feast were arranged on three sides of a square, the open side being

394 FROM MANGIvR TO THRONE.

left for the servants to pass in and out when serving the dinners. The arrangement was also made so that the guests reclined according to their rank, the right hand corner being the place of chief honor, and the left end of the tablecouch, the lowest in degree of dignity. This manner of disposal was necessary because, in reclining, the head of each guest practically reposed on the bosom of the one directly above him, and as rank was critically observed, it would be an unpardonable offence not to make the proper distinctions, so as to avoid the placing of one of low rank next to one of high position. Thus the chief place of honor at the table was always anxiously sought, while each guest strove to get a position as high as possible. Christ seized upon this custom, which betrayed much unseemly vanity, to deliver one of His greatest- parables. He introduced His illustrations by some preliminary instructions as to the proper rules to be observed by guests at a wedding feast, admonishing them not to crowd in and seize high places lest there should be men of higher rank present, whom, not to offend, the host will require you, much to your embarrassment, to take a lower place. But upon entering, the courteous man will seat himself at the least place of honor, for if there be others present who are not so honorable, these will be required by the host to move down, to give place to those who deserve a higher seat. And this deference to our superiors and courtesy to our hosts should apply also to our general conduct, and especially our attitude towards God, for “he who exalteth himself before either God or man, shall be humbled, and he whohumbleth himself shall be exalted.” Another custom which, before the time of Jesus, was peculiar to the Jews, was that of inviting the poor classes to feasts prepared from consecrated offerings left over after the altar sacrifices, but with the growth of castes and overweening pride, this kindly charity had fallen into disfavor, because the rabbis were so haughty and supercilious that the touch of the poor was to them a defilement. To rebuke the Pharisees and rabbis for their ambitions, ostentation and pride of self, Jesus therefore gave to them this parable.

Then said He, “When thou makest a dinner or supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also bid thee [return the invitation] again, and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, and thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee; for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just.”

One of the company, who sat at meat with Him, comprehending the words of Christ, and evidently believing on Him, said, in praise of, the illustration, “Blessed is h’fe that shall eat bread in the kingdom of heaven.” But who shall receive this blessing? Not they who pander to the rich, or who hold themselves in exclusiveness with those who are highly favored, nor those who oppress the poor, or have no sympathy for the lowly and the suffering. For none of these are heavenly gifts reserved, but for those who invite the poor and unfortunate, and with them share the blessings that have. been given them, and who esteem their fellow-men to be not only of one race but of all races, nor of a single tribe or class, but those of all tribes, clans and classes, for the Kingdom of God is not for one people, but for the Gentile quite as much as for the Jew. And this great truth Jesus accentuated by saying:

Christ’s Invitation to Supper.

A certain man prepared a great feast and sent out many invitations to friends who were rich, or influential, or otherwise favored, thinking that he would have a large and joyful company. When the supper was made ready he sent out his servants, as was the custom in Israel, to inform those who had been invited that their presence was now expected, for the meats were ready to be served. The host waited for some time the arrival of his friends, but after a great while of nervous expectancy and disappointment at their delay, he saw his servant returning, and he went eagerly to meet him and learn why the guests were so long in arriving. When a dinner is prepared it is a most provoking thing to have it kept unserved until the soup is cold, and the meats are overdone, and the vegetables become dr>’ and ill-savored. And when this is due to the late arrival of those invited, there are few hosts who can feel jubilant. And this certain man no doubt felt worried and angered, so he eagerly inquired of his servant the cause of the delay. “Why,” answered the servant, “everyone that I have asked has had some excuse to make. Though none of them sent their regrets upon receipt of the invitation, yet they all now find it inconvenient to attend, and beg to be excused. One man says he has just bought five yoke of oxen and must try them to see if they are well broken: another tells me that he has purchased a piece of ground and must now go out and examine it: and yet another says he has married a wife and must spend the first days of the honey-moon at home. And so all alike had some excuse to make, so that none of those invited will come.”

Receiving such a report, the Lord of the feast was very angr>’, as he had a right to be. But something must be done. There are large ovens full of meat, and vessels full of vegetables, and baskets laden with fruits, all ready for serving. It would be sinful to see all these things spoil, so if friends refuse to accept the hospitality extended, others must be brought in who will appreciate such good things as have been provided. So the man said to his servant: “Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind; seek out every hungry soul, give an invitation to every person, and don’t overlook the children, the coatless, the shoeless, the poor little bodies that have been indifferently fed ever since they were born, for this shall now be a feast for the unfortunate.” And the servant went out as lie was bidden and brought in a large crowd of half-starved and infirm humanity, but there was still room for many more. So he was bidden to go again, and not to confine his search to the streets and alleys, but to look also along the highways and hedges, among the hovels, down in the cellars where poverty huddles, and out among the shackly tenements where starvation holds revel with disease and pollution and crime. Bid all that you find in ever>’ dark place of famine to come, and those who cannot walk bring here in a conveyance of some kind. See to it that every poor person is brought to the feast, for none whom I first invited shall now share my bounty or receive my hospitality; all shall be given to those who deserve it.

By means thus wisely taken the man’s house was filled with guests, and he had a four-fold happiness in seeing the hungry mouths filled and the unfortunates of every kind reveling in the joy of the bounteous feast, in which they forgot their aflBictions in feelings of gratitude for the hospitality of their generous host.

By this parable Jesus exposed the prejudices of the Pharisees and rabbis, whom He had invited to His spiritual banquet provided in that new kingdom, but who had refused to accept His offering, and He thus tells His hearers that since those who were bound to Him by racial ties had disregarded His offers of mercy and reward, He now extended His invitation to the poor of all nations, those rejected by the rabbis for their refusal to be bound by the rigid ceremonials and formalisms of the hierarchy, but who were more righteous in a true observance of the higher obligations imposed by God, a devotedness of heart, a love and reverence and gratitude to God for the blessings which He gives to all nations,

A Bleat from the Wilderness.

The increased popularity of Jesus in Perea was evidenced by the numerous applications which He had for discipleship, but He received very few, and these only upon the condition that they were ready to sacrifice everything, even to acknowledging a willingness to lay down their lives for His sake. To all who came expressing desire to be thus enrolled. He explained the implacable enmity to which he was subject, and also the persecution which all His followers must suffer, thus discouraging their ambition, but gladly received those who were ready to endure every hardship, and every loss, and ever>’ punishment, for that reward which He promised should be theirs hereafter.

Being among the outcasts, or those who had no fellowship with the congregations, Jesus was ridiculed by the Pharisees and scribes for associating with those whom they declared were both” unclean and despic’able,” and for which companionship they charged Him with violating the law and custom of all devout Jews. To these complainings He made answer by telling His critics again that His mission was not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance; that if they felt themselves to be sinless, how much more ought they to be desirous of reclaiming those who were yet in their iniquities, for God rejoices more over the saving

THic prodigal’s DEPARTURI’:. — Drawn liy ni.la.

of sinners than at the prayers of those who need no repentance. “Why,” said Jesus, “if you had a hundred sheep, and one of them should go astray, would you not leave the niiK’t-nine and seek the one that was lost? And finding it, would you not feel great joy, and make a feast to jour friends to celebrate its recovery? Or, if a woman having ten pieces of silver shall lose one, will she not seek diligently and sweep every corner, and look into every crack, until she find it? And in the joy of having found the lost piece, will she not tell her neighbors and make merry over her good fortune? Likewise say I unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth.”

The Story of the Prodigal Son.

And again Jesus explained how great was the gladness in heaven over the redemption of sinners by relating another parable, one of the most exquisite illustrations ever framed in words.

There was a certain wealthy man who had two sons, both grown to manhood’s estate, the younger of whom, having become tired of parental dependence, and anxious to see something of the world, came to him one day and asked for his patrimony, or such share of the estate as his father was willing to give him. He was evidently an indulgent father, for he at once made a division of his property, and gave the younger son a full third, and when the young man went away with his goods he took with him his father’s blessings, and perhaps much excellent advice, and hearty wishes for his success and happiness.

And thus the young man went his way well provided into a far country to establish himself. Having considerable wealth he soon made many friends who showed great attachment and desire to assist him in spending it. Perhaps having little acquaintance with the ways of the world, its allurements, vices and crimes, the young man was easily influenced and he soon fell into riotous ways which directly wasted his fortune. You have known men toiling for twenty, thirty, forty years in commercial or mechanical life, having acquired large property, to lie down and die, leaving a great estate; and in five years the boys have got all through with it. So this young man and his money soon parted. I do not know just how it went; but there, in the first place, were his traveling expenses. A man who had been brought up as luxuriously as he evidently was, from the surroundings of that home, could not lodge just anywhere, nor be contented with plain fare. He had been used to see things on a large scale, and I do not suppose he always stopped to take change. I suppose that sometimes he bought things without any regard to their cost. Then, besides that, there came in the bill for his personal apparel; and a young man who had a third of his father’s property in his pocket could not afford to go shabbily dressed; and so he must have clothes of the best pattern, and of the finest material. Besides that, the young man had to meet the bill for social entertainment. He must treat, and it must be with the costliest wines and the rarest viands.

Morning glories bloom when the sun is coming up, not when the sun is
going down. There is no money left with which to meet his expenses. Besides
that, the crops
have failed, and
there is a famine
in the land; and
at a time when
affluent men are
straitened about
getting their
daily bread,
what is to become of this poor
fellow with an
empty pocket
and a discouraged heart?
“Oh,” you say,
” Let him go to
work.” He cannot work. His
hands, soft and
tender, will be
blistered with
hard work. Perhaps he comes
then to some
place where he
can get work, he
thinks, adequate
for an educated
young man. He
conies to a commercial establishment and
asks for work.
’ * No, ’ * says the

head man of the business firm, “we can’t have you. Why, you are nothing but a tramp of the street. Off of our premises.” Perhaps he comes to the office of some official of the government, and seeks employment by which he can

TOMii ()]■• j()si:i’ir Till’: i’.xtriakcii. support himself. “No,” says that officer, “a man clad as you are cannot find any employment in my office.” What is he to do? In a strange land. Money all gone. No friends. Ragged. Wretched. Undone.

Only a Swineherd.

Realizing his impoverished condition and inability to improve it without accepting the most menial position, he finally, after many efforts to secure employment, obtained a place as swineherd to a hog- raiser of that countr>’. What a fall from his former estate! What a contrast! From being the favored son of a rich and devoted father, and then the leader of a wanton crowd that held high revels in magnificent halls, dressed in-, costliest raiment, drinking the rarest wines, and dining amid splendors that are the accessories of kings, he fell, fell until he was nothing but a swineherd. Money all gone, deserted by friends, so hungry that gladly would he have eaten the drafi”, the leavings of the hogs that he tended; and no doubt he seized the husks of the beans upon which the swine were fed, and chewing them to extract the little sweet that was left, thought of how he formerly fared at his father’s house, the soft bed in which he had slept, the cool porch on which he had rested in the heat of the day, the bounteous board at which he had feasted, and mentally exclaimed:” Oh, could I now but feed with my father’s servants, or from the scraps that are daily thrown away fi-om the table!”

Dejected, half famished and full of remorse, he became at length so agonized by his reflections that he resolved to go back to his father and, making an acknowledgment of his profligacy, to ask that he might hereafter be regarded as only one of the servants, for he felt his unworthiness to be called his son. And so “he arose and came to his father.” He expected a chilling reception; but when yet a considerable way from the old home, coming down the road, dressed like a beggar, begrimed with the dirt of a long foot journey, and looking like a tramp that had no object in life except to appear miserable, his father saw him. The eye of paternal affection, with its wondrous penetration, discovered at first glance, through the mask of misery and severe impoverishment, the features of the son who had left months before arrayed in splendid raiment. And with a glad shout the father rushed out and down the dusty highway, and into the arms of his boy. What did he care for the tattered clothes, and the begrimed face, and the beggarly appearance? “My son! my boy!” and the tears gushed to his eyes as he threw his arms about his neck and covered the dirt of his cheeks with kisses, and hid his spattered breast with caresses.” But,” says the prodigal, “I am unworthy to be called thy son.” “Never mind that,” answered the father, “it is enough for me to know that you have returned. I will hear your story later. My joy is too great to have it disturbed by any tale of sorrow. Come up to the house;” and with his arms still around him the father led his boy until they came to the door, when he shouted with joy to the servants within, “Bring forth the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet, and bring hither the fatted calf and kill it; and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.” And they began to be merry.

The Great Feast of Rejoicing.

From all the windows of the old homestead bursts the minstrelsy. The floor quakes with the feet of the rustics, whose dance is always vigorous and

BEANS USED FOR FEEDING SWINE IN rALKSTlNU.

resounding. The neighbors have heard of the return of the younger son from his wanderings, and they have gathered together. The house is full of congratulators. I suppose the tables are loaded with luxuries. Not only the one kind of meat mentioned, but its concomitants.

The senior son stands at the corner of the house, a frigid phlegmatic. He

has just come in from the fields in ver>’ substantial apparel. Seeing some wild

exhilarations around the old mansion, he asks of a serlant passing by with a

goat-skin of wine n his shoulder, what all the Tuss is about. One w aid have thought that, on hearing that his younger brother had got back, he would have gone into the house and rejoiced, and if he were not conscientiously opposed to dancing, that he would have joined in the Oriental schottische. No. There he stands. His brow lowers. His face darkens. His lip curls with contempt. He stamps the ground with indignation. He sees nothing at all to attract. The odors of the feast coming out on the air do not sharpen his appetite. The lively music does not put any spring into his step. He is in a terrible pout. He criticises the expense, the injustice, and the morals of the entertainment. The father rushes out bareheaded, and coaxes him to come in. He will not go in. He scolds the father. He goes into a pasquinade against the younger brother, and he makes the most uncomely scene. He says:” Father, you put a premium on vagabondism. I stayed at home and worked on the farm. You never made a party for me; you didn’t so much as kill a kid; that wouldn’t have cost half as tnuch as a calf; but this scapegrace went off in fine clothes, and he comes back not fit to be seen, and what a time you make over him! He breaks your heart, and you pay him for it. That calf to which we have been giving extra feed during all these weeks wouldn’t be so fat and sleek if I had known to what use you were going to put it! That vagabond deserves to be cowhided instead of banqueted. Veal is too good for him!” That evening, while the younger son sat telling his father about his adventures, and asking about what had occurred on the place since his departure, the senior brother goes to bed disgusted, and slams the door after him. That senior brother still lives. You can see him any Sunday, any day of the week.

The father seeing his elder son so vindictively jealous, explained why he had made the feast, by saying, “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It is meet that we should make merry, and be glad; for this thy brother was dead and is alive again; was lost and is found.” Or, “It is not that I love you any less than your brother, but because he was long gone from me, and I feared I should never see him again, that his sudden return has given me such great joy, in which you should participate; for had your brother died you would no doubt have greatly grieved, and hence his restoration, when we thought him dead, should give you no less gratification.”

And it is this joy that God feels when any sinner leaves off his evil ways and accepts the .salvation which Jesus freely offers, for God is that indulgent and forgiving father who awaits with extended arms to welcome back every one whc humbles himself in sincere penitence.

A Swindling Cashier.

Having pre.sented a parable evidently intended for the benefit of the rabbis, who regarded no one as being worthy to be saved except ritualjconforming Jews,

KILLING THic FATTi.n CALK. — Drawn by Bida.

(403’

He turned to the publicans and disciples, who composed a large part of the congregation, and related to them the parable of the unjust steward (Luke xvi.)-

From this parable most writers shy off as though it were inexplicable. A bad steward finding he was going to lose his position, during the remaining days of his staying busied himself in making friends among the creditors of his employer by compromising their indebtedness, and where a man owed a hundred measures of oil let him oflf by paying fifty, and the man who owed a hundred measures of wheat was let off by paying eighty. The Palestine lord commended the keenness of the unjust steward. In uttering that parable Christ intended not to praise the scoundrelism of the unjust steward, but to suggest that it would be well if men were as keen and adroit in right directions as this man was keen and adroit in wrong directions. Christ saw, what we all know, that if men had as much ingenuity for God as they have for the world, the evangelization of the round earth would be a brief work. He saw that many of the soldiers of the truth would go into the battle armed with blunderbuss instead of keen rifle. Do not befog your mind by dwelling too much on the particulars of this parable, but take its large round totality of meaning — alertness for the right, as the unjust steward had alertness for the wrong. Disposition to take advantage of circumstances for ’ religious purposes, as this man had disposition to take advantage of circumstances for fraudulent purposes. Whether you get good or evil out of this parable depends on whether you are a spider or a bee. If you are a spider you will draw out of it the poison of perplexity and unbelief. If you are a bee you will extract from it the honey of truth. I do with perplexing passages of Scripture what I do in summer time with the Atlantic Ocean. I go down to the beach and wade in and get from the mighty deep health and strength. I do not wade in deep enough to get drowned. What is the use of wading in until you cannot reach shore. Into this Atlantic Ocean of Divine truth wade in up to your heart, but do not wade in until

it is over your head.

Parable of Lazarus and Dives.

In this parable we are made to stand in one of the finest private houses of olden time. Every room is luxurious. The floor, made of stones, gypsum, coal and chalk, pounded together, is hard and beautiful. From the roof, surrounded by a balustrade, you take in all the beauty of the landscape. The porch is cool and refreshing, where sit people who, having come in to look at the building, are waiting for the usher. In this place you hear the crystal plash of the fountains. The windows, reaching to the floor, and adorned, are quiet places to lounge in, and we sit here listening to the stamp of the blanketed horses in the princely stables. Venison and partridge, delicate morsels of fatted calf, and honey, and figs, and dates, and pomegranates, and fish that only two hours ago glided in the lake, and bowls of sherbet from Egypt, make up the feast, accompanied with

40t

riddles, and jests that evoke roaring laughter, with occasional outbursts of music, in which harps thrum and cymbals clap, and shepherd’s pipe whistles. What a place to sit in!

The lord of the place, in dress that changes with every whim, lies on a lounge stupid from over-fed digestion. His linen is so fine, I wonder who washed it and

TRADITIONAL HOUSK OF THE RICH MAN AS IT APPEARS AT i...

who ironed it. His jewels the brightest, his purple the rarest. Let him lie perfectly quiet a moment until we take his photograph. Here we have it: “A certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously everyday.” How accurate the picture! You can see every plait in the linen

|o6 ?ROM MANGER TO THRONE.

and every wrinkle in the shirt. What more could that man have? My lord, be happy! After a while he leans over the balustrade and says to a friend in shining apparel;” Look at that fellow lying down at my gate. I wonder why the porter allows him to lie there. How disgusting! But our dogs will be let out of the kennel very soon and will clear him out.” Yes, they bound towards him.” Take hold of him!” cries the rich man from the balustrade. The dogs go at the beggar with terrible bark; then take lower growling; then stop to yawn; and at the coaxing tone of the poor wretch, they frisk about him, and put their soft, healing tongues to his ulcers, driving off the flies, and relieving the insufferable itch and sting of wounds which could not afford salve or bandage. Lazarus has friends at last. They will for a while keep QfF the insults of the street and defend their patient. The man is far from friendless who has a good dog to stand by him. Dogs are often not so mean as their msfsters. They will not be allowed to enter heaven, but may they not be allowed to lie down at the gate? for John says of the door of heaven, “Without are dogs.” But what is the matter with that beggar? He lies over now with his face exposed to the sun. Lazarus, get up! He responds not. Poor fellow, he is dead. Two men appointed of the town come to carry him out to the fields. They dig a hole, drop him in, and cover him up. The people say, “One more nuisance got rid of!” Aha! that is not Lazarus that they buried. It was only his sores. Yonder goes Lazarus, an angel on his right hand, an angel on the left, carrying him up the steep of heaven — talking, praising, rejoicing. Good old Abraham stands at the gate and throws his arms around the new-comer. Now Lazarus has his own fine house, and his own robes, and his own banquet, and his own chariot, and that poor, sickly carcass of his that the overseers of the town dumped in the potter’s field will come up at the call of the archangel, straight, and pure, and healthy, corruption having become incorruption.

Now we will go back a minute to the fine Oriental house that we spoke of. The lord of the place has been receiving visitors to-day as the doorkeeper introduced them. After a while there is a visitor who waits not for the porter to open the gate, or for the gatekeeper to introduce him. Who is it coming? Stop him there at the door! How dares he come in unheralded? He walks into the room, and the lord cries, with terror-struck face, “This is Death. Away, with him!” There is a hard thurrtp on the floor. Is it a pitcher which has fallen, or an ottoman which has upset? No. Dives has fallen. Dives is dead! The excitement in town is great. The grooms rush from the barn to see. All the great folks of the neighborhood who used to sit at his dinners come in. The grocer from whom he got his spices, the butcher from whom he got the meat’, and the clothier from whom he got the garments, come to find out all about it.

The day of burial has arrived. He is carried down out of his splendid room

LAZARUS AT THH DOOR OK DIVJCS.

(407)

408 FROiM MANGER TO THRONE.

and through the porch into the street. The undertaker will make a big job of it, for there is plenty to pay. There will be high eulogies of him pronounced, although Christ represents him as chiefly distinguished for his enormous appetite and his fine shirt.

The long procession moves on, amid the accustomed weeping and howling of Oriental obsequies. The sepulchre is reached. Six persons carrying the body go carefully down the steps leading to the door of the dead. The weight of the body on those ahead is heavy, and they hold back. The relics are left in the sepulchre, and the people return. But Dives does not return. He who had all the wines he could drink now asks for plainer beverage. He wants water. He does not ask for a cupful, or a teaspoonful, but “just one drop,” and he cannot get it. He looks up and sees lyazarus, the very man whom he set his dogs on, resting joyfully in Abraham’s bosom, and he calls to the Patriarch and begs him to allow lyazarus to put his finger in water and let him lick it off”. Once Lazarus wanted just the crumbs from Dives’s feast; now Dives wants just a drop of water from lyazarus’s banquet. Poor as he can be! He has eaten the last quail’s wing. He has broken the last rind of the last pomegranate. Dives the lord has become Dives the pauper. The dogs of remorse and despair come not with healing tongue to lick, but with relentless muzzle to tear. Now Dives sits at the gate, while Lazarus, amid the festivities of heaven, fares sumptuously every day.

The social gulf which separated Lazarus from Dives in this world is not nearly so great as the spiritual chasm which separates them in eternity, between which there is no way of passage. And so Abraham replied to Dives’s cry for water, “Remember, that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.”

This was poor consolation for the tormented spirit of Dives, but it served to quicken his anxiety for those of his brothers yet living, who were in imminent danger of a like punishment. So he begged Abraham to send to them and warn them of their peril; but he was answered:” They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them, and if these they will not regard, neither would they be persuaded from their wanton, luxurious and unmerciful ways though warned by one who had risen from the dead.”

Jesus did not, by this parable, condemn the acquisition of wealth, but its wrongful application. A man of wealth is not necessarily a sinner, otherwise there would be no great philanthropists to spread gifts of colleges, and churches, and hospitals for the education, salvation and relief of the poor; but Jesus had in mind the haughty, vain and self-sufficient rich, who, like the Pharisees, use their wealth to oppress the less fortunate, and to make a vulgarly ostentatious show of their advantage, the pride, pomp and circumstance which lead men away from God.