Studies of the Portrait of Christ, Volume 1

My design in this book is to study, not the portraits, but the Portrait, of Christ. I am not concerned with the products of Italian art. I am not occupied with a criticism of the various views which have been taken of Christ in literature. I am not even engaged in a comparison of the four aspects of Christ in the New Testament. The Portrait which I study is one hung up in the heart — the combined effect of all the different aspects which the Gospels reveal.

The work is not critical, but introspective. I do not seek to paimt a Christ; I stand before the Christ already painted, and try to analyse its Features. Necessarily, I limit

myself to that which is human. There is vi PREFACE

something which is Divine; but, just because it is Divine, it defies my analysis. These pages confine themselves to that element in Jesus which grew. They seek to trace the steps of the process by which His earthly work was developed — from the dawning of the great resolve to the dying on the Cross. To complete the design I shall require to extend this work into another volume; the present reaches only to the Desert of Bethsaida.

G. M.

EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND,

In the gallery of human souls there is one pre-eminent figure. It has been the study of all artists, of all thinkers. From the most opposite sides of the building men have seen it, approached it, centred round it. It has been studied by the lover of beauty; it has been lauded by the lover of the commonplace. It has been examined in the interest of philosophy; it has been scrutinised in the interest of childlike simplicity. It has been admired as the embodiment of a creed; it has been eulogised as the negation of all creeds. It has drawn the eyes of the mystic who wants to soar above the world; it has attracted the gaze of the practical who find the world a home. Wise men have sought it in the pursuit of science; shepherds have sought it in A the guiding of their flocks; Herod has sought it in the policy of self-interest. Every avenue of the mind has been at some time a road to the Portrait of Jesus.

I wish as a humble spectator to take my stand with the great crowd in front of the great Portrait. I wish to approach it with the eye of the heart — not to write an essay, but to sing a song. It does not follow that the perception must be less artistic. I have read that on one occasion of the Gospel story a child was lifted up to see the Portrait of Jesus. That youngest student in the art-gallery had probably the view clearest of all. His sight was antecedent to all theory, to all argument. J should like to be that child; I shall try. I would approach the Picture as the child approaches it — without prepossession, without a cause to plead, without a brief to advocate. I would describe the Picture as the child describes it — rather by exclamation than by rounded speech. I would forget the language of the schools, the names of the theologians, the abstractions of the logical and the learned. I would stand in the presence, not of a scene recorded, but of a scene passing. I would make the notes of a reporter rather than draw the inferences of a compiler. The Portrait before me is a present reality. The History may be a thing of the past; the Gospels may have their origin in obscurity; but the Portrait is a fact of to-day. It wants, not the annalist, but the spectator. It wants the eye of the child — the eye that has no yesterday, no preconception, no image of the past to read into the Picture. The youngest and humblest student of the gallery had advantages over the Twelve.

In this gallery there are many portraits of the religious life. Wherein lies the pre-eminence of Jesus? As I scan the various faces I become impressed with a fact. The difference between them and Jesus is not a difference of feature; it is a difference of expression — of motive. The moral features of a man’s life are his acts; his expression is the motive for his acts. I have heard it said again and again, ‘The portrait of Christ is not original,’ You tell me that you can point out the same features in Confucius, in Buddha, in Zoroaster. Of course you can. It is just here that the mystery lies. Nowhere is the difference of the portraits so marked as where the sameness of feature appears. It is from the ground common to all flowers that the flower. of Jesus has sprung. Why do I wonder at the difference between the animal and the man? Precisely because I have established the likeness of their mechanisms; if they had opposite mechanisms, I should not wonder. So is it with Jesus, It is the ground common to Him and me that makes the mystery to me. It is precisely in the sphere of unity that the point of diversity rises. I marvel most where the fields meet.

Come, and let us see the truth of this. Let us look round the gallery of great portraits; let us measure Christ’s with those of other masters. Let us place Him side by side with the sage of China — the strong, the solid Confucius. Is there a similarity between them? Yes; there is a marked likeness of /eature.

Both have come to found a kingdom. Both have come to found an earthly kingdom. Both have proclaimed the value of homely and commonplace duties. Both have turned the eyes of their disciples to the trivial things at their feet. Confucius tells them to avoid flights into the air, to keep their thoughts on the soil of mother earth. The first public word of Jesus is almost on the same lines, ‘ Blessed are the poor in spirit.’

Yet, strange to say, it is here and nowhere else that the difference appears. The originality of Jesus lies not in the ‘what,’ but in the ‘why. W#y does Confucius value commonplace duties? Because he wants men to be worldly. Why does Jesus value commonplace duties? Because he wants men to be unworldly. To the sage of China the power to do little things is the proof of an earthly intelligence; to the Son of Man the power to do little things is the proof of a heavenly intelligence. To Confucius the blessedness of the poor in spirit is the sense that they are born from below; to Jesus the blessedness of the poor in spirit is the sense that they are born from above — ‘theirs is the kingdom of heaven.’ And is not Jesus right? Do you think any man can pass through the ordeal of commonplace duty unless he sees something out of the common? I do not. I have never known Chinese work to be done successfully without a vision deyond the work. The boy does not learn his lesson by the light of the lamp, but by the light of the coming holiday. I do not think it is purely by present attention that work is best done. Rather should I say that the attention to the present comes from hope in the future. Yon poor clerk who bends over his ledger is not sustained by his ledger. His work would be badly done if he did not see beyond it, hope beyond it, dream beyond it. He could not bear his poverty of spirit if he had not glimpses of the kingdom of heaven. Very likely this kingdom takes to him a human form — the hope of promotion, the prospect of wealth, the anticipation of domestic love. None the less is it the vindication, not of Confucius,

Keep reading