The Ascension
Ohe days in which Jesus was bound to earth were now nearly done p the sun of the last day had risen and was riding fast upward to the meridian, looking like a golden door standing open for our Lord’s re-entering of heaven. He had told his disciples to await Him in Jerusalem until the time was come for the fulfill njent of the prophecy that He should be received back up into heaven, which would occur not many days thence. That day was now at hand. Jesus met the disciples and gave to them a few parting words respecting the power which would be delegated to them, and of how they should be witnesses of all that they had seen, to the people of all the world. After thus speaking Jesus led them out as far as Bethany and to the Mount of Olives. Here the solemn, the sorrowing, but the glorious, parting was now ta occur. The occasion was not one for words; there are moments in life when the tongue is no interpreter of the heart, when words would be obtrusive and an impediment to thought. Better let the tongue lie still than to allow it ta break a sacred spell by voiceful interruption. The record was finished, and Jesushad written on the last leaf, and had given the closed book to His disciples for their guidance. Nothing now remained for Christ to do but to lift His loving hands and bless those to whom He had given the highest earthly commission, that of Apostleship. And while He blessed them He was caught up in a cloud and was parted from them.
Among the mountains of Palestine no one is more uplifting than Mount Olivet. It was the peroration of our Lord’s ministry. On the roof of a house in Jerusalem I asked, “Which is Olivet?” and the first glance transfixed me. But how shall I describe my emotions, when, near the close of a journey, in which we had for two nights encamped amid the crumbled walls of old Jericho, and tasted of the acrid waters of the Dead Sea, that crj-stal sarcophagus of the buried cities of the plain, and waded down into the deep and swift Jordan to baptize a man, and visited the ruins of the house of Mary and Martha and Lazarus, we found ourselves in stirrups and on a horse lathered with the long and difficult way, ascending Mount Olivet. Over this ridge King David fled with a broken heart. Over it Pompey led his devastating hosts. Here the famous Tenth Legion were entrenched. The Garden of Gethsemane weeps at the foot of it. Along the base of this hill flashed the lanterns and torches of those who came to arrest Jesus. From the trees on this hill the boughs were torn off and thrown into the path of Christ’s
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THE PARTING ON MOUNT OLIVET. — Drawn Ijy I’lockliorst.
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triumphal procession. Up and down that road Jesus had walked twice a day, from Bethany to Jerusalem, and from Jerusalem to Bethan)^ There, again and again, He had taught His disciples. Half-way up this mount He uttered his lamentation, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem!” From its heights Jesus took flight homeward when He had finished His earthly mission. There is no reason for his staying longer. A sacrifice was needed to make peace between the recreant earth and the outraged heaven, and he had offered it. Death needed to be conquered, and He had put his resurrection foot upon it. The thirty-three years of voluntary exile had ended.
The Parting.
On Mount Olivet Jesus stands in a group of. Galilee fishermen. They had been together in many scenes of sadness and persecution, and had been the more endeared by that brotherhood of suffering. They had expected Him to stay until the day of coronation, when he would take the earthly throne and wave a sceptre mightier, and rule a dominion wider, than any Pharaoh, than any David, than any Caesar.. But now all these anticipations collapse. Christ has given his last advice. He has offered His last sympathy. He has spoken His last word. His hands are spread apart as one is apt to do when he pronounces a benediction, when suddenly the strongest and most stupendous law of all worlds is shattered. It is the law which, since the worlds were created, holds them together. It is the law which holds everything to the earth, or, temporarily hurled from earth, returns to it; the law which keeps the planets whirling around our sun, and our solar system whirling around other systems, and all the systems whirling around the throne of God — the law of gravitation. That law is suspended, or relaxed, or broken, to let the body of Jesus go. That law had laid hold of Him thirty- three years before, when He descended. It had relaxed its grip of Him but once, and that when it declined to sink Him from the top of the waves on Lake Galilee, on which He walked, to the bottom of the lake. That law of gravitation must now give way to Him who made the law. It may hold the other stars, but it cannot longer hold the Morning Star of the Redemption. It may hold the noonday sun, but it cannot hold the Sun of Righteousness. The fingers of that law are about to open to let go the most illustrious Being the world had ever seen, and whom it had worst maltreated. The strongest law of nature which philosophers ever weighed or measured must at last give way. It will break between the rock of Olivet and the heel of Christ’s foot. Watch it, all ye disciples! Watch it, all the earth f Watch it, all the heavens! Christ about to leave this planet. How? His friends will not consent to have Him go. His enemies catching Him would only attempt, by another Calvary, to put Him into some other tomb. I will tell you how. The chain of the most tremendous natural law is unlinked. The sacred foot of our Lord and the limestone rock part, and part forever.
From Earth and Persecution into Skies of Glory.
The cruel world took Him in at the start on a cradle of straw, and at last thrust Him out with the point of a spear; but benediction! Ascending until beneath, He saw on one side the Bethlehem where they put Him among the cattle, and Calvary on the other side, where they put Him among the thieves; but benediction! As far as the excited and intensified vision of the group on Olivet could see Him, and after He was so far up they could no longer hear His words, they saw the gesture of the outspread hands; the benediction! And that is His attitude to-day. His benediction upon the world’s climates, and they are changing, and will keep on changing until the atmosphere shall be a commingling of October and June. Benediction upon the deserts till they whiten with lily, and blush with rose, and yellow with cowslip, and emerald with grass. Benediction upon the governments till they become more just and humane. Benediction upon nations till they kneel in prayer. Benediction upon the whole earth until every mountain is an Olivet of consecration, and ever>^ lake a Galilee on whose mosaic of crystal, and opal, and sapphire divine splendors shall walk.
Leaning back, and with pallid cheek and uplifted eyes, the disciples see their Lord rising from the solid earth. Then, rushing forward, they would grasp His feet to hold Him fast, but they are out of reach, and it is too late to detain Him. Higher than the tops of the fig-trees from which they had plucked the fruit. Higher than the olive-trees that shaded the mount. Higher, until He is within sight of the Bethlehem where He was born, and the Jordan where He was baptized, and the Golgotha where He was slain. Higher, until on stairs of fleecy cloud He steps. Higher, until, into a sky bluer than the lake that could not sink Him, He disappears into a sea of glory whose billowing splendors hide Him. The fishermen watch and watch, wondering if the law of nature will not reassert itself, and He shall in a few moments come back again, and they shall see Him descending; first His scarred feet coming in sight, then the scarred side, then the scarred brow, and they may take again His scarred hand. But the moments pass by, and the hours, and no reappearance. Gone out of sight of earth, but come within sight of heaven. And rising still, not welcomed by one angelic choir like those who one Christmas night escorted Him down, but all heaven turns out to greet Him home, and the temples have especial anthem, and the palaces especial banquet, and the streets especial throngs; and all along the line to the foot of the throne, for years vacated, there are arches lifted, and banners wad, and trumpets sounded, and doxologies chanted, and coronets cast down.
It was the greatest day in heaven! As He mounts the throne that thirty-three years before He abdicated for us, there rises from all the hosts of heaven a shout, saintly, cherubic, seraphic, archangelic, “Hallelujah! Amen!’’