Nazareth and Capernaum

Ye will surely say unto Me, Whatsoever we have heard done in Capernaum, do also here in Thine own country.”’ — Luks iv. 23.

UR Lord here anticipates an objection which will be raised to His religion — which will

be raised, not by those remote from Him, but by those nearest to Him. He says that the complaint will be made by those in His vicinity that men till recently outside seem more privileged than they. And truly His anticipation has been realised. We often express surprise at the glowing rapture of souls suddenly converted. We say, with the elder brother in the parable, “All these years have I served thee, and thou never gavest me even a kid that I should make merry; but when my brother that has devoured thy substance has come, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf!” Never did our Lord show a

deeper knowledge of human nature. Nazareth was the place of His upbringing — the place where men had seen Him from day to day in unbroken sequence; yet in Nazareth He had wrought no miracle. Capernaum was an outside city where, as yet, He had little been; but in His flying visits Capernaum had witnessed wonderful works. The joy of Capernaum was greater than the joy of Nazareth. And the joy of Capernaum always ts greater than the joy of Nazareth. Those with whom Christ has abode since their childhood see less of His miracles than those whom He unexpectedly visits. What then? Is the privilege of Capernaum greater than the privilege of Nazareth? No, assuredly. I would rather live in Nazareth than in Capernaum. What is the difference between maternal love and romantic love? It is just the difference of Nazareth and Capernaum. Maternal love is unconscious of a crisis; it has known and loved its object from the very beginning. But romantic love had a convulsive moment — a moment when it recognised its own existence, and saw its object in a new form. Romantic love is conscious of a miracle — of a transforming hour which made life’s water wine. But maternal love has no sense of any miracle; it says to its object, “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.” And just on that account, is it not the better love! It is too habitual to be wonderful. It breathes too freely to be aware of its breathing. It is its very place which keeps it from rapture; it has less joy because it has larger light.

Lord, there are still among us those who come to Thee by night and those who come to Thee by day. There are some like Nicodemus; they are driven to Thee by the shadows; they seek Thee as a refuge from doubt. There are some like Nathanael; they find Thee when they are sitting under their own fig-tree — find Thee without a struggle in their souls. Nathanael often laments his want of a night experience. He weeps that he can point to no transition moment — no moment when he was rescued from the storm. Dry his tears, O Lord! Tell him that though the younger brother has more credit, the elder has more comeliness! Tell him that the heart already harmonious needs less conflict! If I were asked to choose, I would rather meet Thee at Nazareth than at Capernaum. Does not the gentleness of the transit indicate the congruity of the nature. Does it not mean that I was already at the door of Thy dwelling, waiting to get in. I know Thou hast a way through the sea and a path through the deep; but let me not despise myself that I found Thee among the flowers! Rather let my heart be glad that it bloomed at once in Thy presence, blazed instantaneously into summer at Thy touch! Rather let my heart be glad that it was always so near to Thee, so tuned to Thee! Rather let my heart be glad that I am Thy captive unconquered, Thy servant unsubdued, Thy bondsman unbroken, Thy follower unfretted, Thy convert unconstrained, Thy messenger unmutilated, Thy disciple with an undimmed eye! By this I know that I was made for Thee.