The Momentous Interview
THE APPEARANCE AND PREACHING OF THE BAPTIST. PETEB ONI OP HIS HEARERS. HlS FIRST INTRODUCTION TO CHRIST. BE-COMES A DISCIPLE. His return to Bethsaida.
“Like an arrow from the quiver
To the Bad and lone Dead Sea,
Thou art rushing, rapid river,
Swift and strong and silently.
“Through the dark-green foliage stealing,
Like a silver ray of light,
Who can tell the pilgrim’s feeling
When thy waters meet his sight?”
—Anderson.
“Let others tell of the early genius and precocious talents of those whose history they narrate; to the Evangelist, the point alone from which the narrative becomes worthy of his pen, is the hour which beholds the subject of his history brought to an acquaintance with the Saviour of the world.”
—Blunt’* Lectures an St Peter,
“Such a 4 Eureka I * never before was uttered by man. He was found, for whom the world had waited forty centuries. n
—BengeL
IMON emerges from the seclusion of his
life at Bethsaida, ou the banks of the
Jordan.
As he and his fellow-fishermen were occupied with their wonted callings on the Sea of Tiberias, we may imagine the conversation turning on the all-engrossing topic of the day — at least what was so among the earnest-minded of the Jewish people — the Great Revival Prophet, the son of Zecharias a priest, who had risen in Judea, and whose thunder-tones, far more than the warlike appeals of Judas, were stirring society to its depths. Never since Elijah’s age had bolder words been uttered; never had a more vehement shaking taken place amid the dry bones of the degenerate nation. Leaving his “childhood’s dwelling amid the sunny vineyards of Hebron and Eschol,1 he makes his adopted home the scathed and blasted deserts around the Dead Sea shores and the Ghor of the Jordan. “That one Voice crying in the wilderness,” says a writer, “touched the deep religious romance of every patriotic heart. It was like the olden time. So had the great prophets done. Even one of less greatness than John would have had a tumultuous reception. But John was profoundly in earnest. It was his good fortune to have no restraints or commitments. He had no philosophy to shape or balance, no sect whose tenets he must respect, no reputation to guard, and no deluding vanity of an influence to be either won or kept. He listened to the word of God in his own soul, and spake right on. When such a one speaks, the hearts of men are targets, his words are arrows, and multitudes will fall down wounded.” “He was like a burning torch,” says Lunge, “his public life was quite an earthquake: the whole man was a sermon,” May he not possibly (was the thought and the wish of not a few hearts) be the Kingly One for whom all true souls are longing: — the Mighty Prince who is to expel the usurper from the throne — chase his legions into the sea, and restore the kingdom of David to its pristine unity and glory I Alas! his was the passing splendour of the meteor, soon to be eclipsed in a cruel death. “Like Moses,” is the beautiful remark of Pressense*, “he dies on the borderland of promise. He sows in tears and hears not the joyous song of the reapers.” The passover, to which I have already alluded, will ere long be at hand. Meanwhile the proposal is made among these Beths«iidans,
i There is a Jewish legend that he made a miraculous escape, in the arms of his mother Elizabeth, from the massacre at Bethlehem that before going to the city of solemnities they would undertake a special journey to the “fords of Jordan,” in order with their own ears to hear the burning words of this new messenger from heaven; who, in addition to the interest which had gathered around his own person, had announced himself the herald of a Greater, — the “voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make His paths straight,” y The land was beginning at least to be clothed with verdure. Those flowers, spoken of at the close of last chapter, so impressive to every Palestine traveller, would tinge valley and mountain-side with their first flush of beauty. “No sooner,” says a recent writer, well able to speak of the flora of Palestine past and present, “have the heavy rains of January and February fallen, than the soil of the plains and valleys, baked hard by eight months’ exposure to a cloudless sky, burst forth into a sudden green, whose vividness seems all the greater by contrast with their previous bareness. A thousand brilliant flowers, chiefly of bulbous plants, convert the uniform drab-coloured livery of the country, during its long dry season, into a gaudy carpet, as varied as the patterns of a kaleidoscope.” 1 Outer Nature would thus seem to be in harmony with the remarkable revival of spiritual life. What a singular scene must have met the eye of Simon and his brethren when crossing the sacred river at Bethabara (or Bethany),2
1 Preface to Mrs Zellei’s Wild Flowers of the Holy Land.”
* “Bethany “(though not of course the Bethany which was the home of Lazarus and his sisters) is the reading in the best MS. See Ellicott’s” Life of our Lord,” and Teschendorf, in loc The former inclines to the more southern ford near Jericho, “to which the multitudes that flocked to the Baptist from Judea and Jerusalem would have found a speedier and more convenient access.” near Succoth! At the great ford they found themselves in the midst of a motley multitude. The whole country, from the passes of Lebanon to the pastures of Beersheba, seemed to have caught up the sacred enthusiasm, — Hocking to this wild natural Sanctuary in East Palestine, to listen to the strange ambassador of heaven — with his unshaven locks, clothed in rough camel-hide fastened with leathern zone, reminding of the fiery Tishbite; living in a cave by night, and, after satisfying hunger with wild desert fare, coming forth by day to deliver his faithful fearless message. There were Pharisees from Jerusalem, publicans from Jericho, Gilead freebooters, Bashan shepherds bringing their sheep and lambs across the river for Temple sacrifices, Galilean fishermen, Samaritan vinedressers and husbandmen, soldiers from the barracks of Caesarea, Tiberias, and Jerusalem; mothers with infants in their arms, old men leaning on their staff for very age, bereaved ones with dimmed eyes and broken hearts, profligates sated with guilty pleasure, rich men whose gold had failed to answer the question, “Who will show us any good? “poor men, hanging in the rags of want, driven to despair by the unkindness and cruelty and selfishness of others.” The tall ’ reeds ’ or canes of the jungle waved, shaken by the wind: the pebbles of the bare clay hills lay around, to which the Baptist pointed, as capable of being transformed into the children of Abraham: at their feet rushed the refreshing stream of the never-failing river.” 1 All are seen gathered listening with arrested ears to the spare, worn, sunbrowned, ascetic man, whose words are evidently bringing tears to eyes that never wept before, and sending swift arrows home to hardened hearts, as he calls upon all without distinction of age, or sex, or history, to “flee from the wrath to come.” “What a contrast,” says Pressense,” was there between him and the doctors of Jerusalem, puffed up with their virtues and knowledge, wearing ostentatiously their long robes and broad phylacteries! Habited like the simplest shepherd of the mountains, the Baptist tramples under foot all the idle prejudices, all the evil passions, all the vices of his nation. He carries truly in his hand that axe which is to be laid at the root of every corrupt tree, for his unsparing speech strikes at the very foundation of evil.,, 1
In common with others of his associates, the impressible nature of the son of Jonas had been touched with the fervid appeals of the desert preacher. He felt the stirrings within him of a new and nobler life, as he listened to the trumpet-call, “Repent! for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” New thoughts and aspirations had broken in upon the monotony of his life of toil and the gains of the Bethsaida fishery. That bold prophet had not only flashed upon him a sense of his guilt, — “made him possess the iniquities of his youth,” — but, more than all, had he stirred within him intense longings to see the great “Consolation of Israel,” whose advent was declared to be imminent — “the true light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.”
One day as this remarkable man was addressing the thronging multitudes, a Figure is seen in the distance,
l The same writer notes that the year in which the Baptist left the desert was a Sabbatical year — a time of uniTersal rest, when a pause was made in all the occupations of common life This accounts for the extraordinary concourse of men gathered round the Forerunner. alone and unattended, as if immersed in pensive thought. Nothing in His external appearance denotes superiority. He wears the garb of an ordinary native of Galilee. That solitary One walking along the margin of the Jordan, and in which a few weeks previously He had been baptized, is none other than the promised Messiah — “the Hope of Israel and the Saviour thereof.” He is just returning from the scene of the forty days’ temptation among the caverns and lairs of wild animals in the desert, wherever that was, — whether in the traditional locality — the bare, blighted Quarantania with its rocks of precipitous limestone near to Jericho, stretohing north from the old valley of Achor; or as others suppose, among the unexplored mountains of Nebo, from whose heights Moses surveyed the distant land of promise, and from whose recesses Elijah was borne to heaven in a whirlwind. The eye of the Baptist instantly caught sight of the Divine Conqueror returning from fierce spiritual conflict. It is the Morning Star owning the presence of the Great Sun of Righteousness! He stops suddenly in his discourse, and, lifting his finger in the direction of the Stranger — his voice subdued into a tone of reverend emotion — he exclaims, “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world!”
None of the Galilee fishermen seem to have been present on this first occasion. But the next day the same sight gives rise to the same exclamation. Andrew, and John the son of Zebedee, heard it. They listened, they beheld, they believed, they rejoiced! Taking, moreover, the words — as they were doubtless
1 The Baptist looked with an intent, arrested gaze (as the word in the original means) on the Divine Stranger (ifiltlf/as). intended to be — an encouragement to approach the mysterious Personage Himself, “they followed Jesus.”
“What seek ye?” was the first question asked, when, turning round, He saw them advancing behind, perhaps with misgiving footstep.
But His look and demeanour reassured them. They need fear no chilling repulse; and gathering confidence, they venture on the modest request — “Rabbi n (a title significant of distinction and greatness on His part, and of honour and respect on theirs), “where dwellest Thou?” — as if they had said, * Tell us where we may repair to unburden to Thee our heavy secrets, and, away from the din of these multitudes, sit at Thy feet and behold Thee as the Lamb of God? ’
“Come and see,” was the gracious reply.
In obedience to the invitation, the two disciples accompanied Him to the place where He dwelt, and “abode with Him that day, for it was about the tenth hour.”
Where and what was the dwelling of this friendless Messiah, we are not informed. For the last forty days - He had been without home or shelter; as St Mark in his usual graphic way describes, He was “with the wild beasts. n He may now, like some of the pilgrims who had come to hear the desert preacher, have been under the cover of a cauvas tent; or, like others of them, He may have abode in ‘a little u Succ6th v — a sylvan hut made of green boughs from the adjoining forests, having on the top, as we have seen in the Bedawy encampments, oleander and willow, palm and sycamore, with a striped blanket of camel’s hair. Be this as it may, thither, at the tenth hour, which, according to the Jewish computation, would be four o’clock in the afternoon,1 they resorted. How long the interview lasted that memorable spring evening, we are not informed. Probably it was far on towards midnight ere they separated. The bright stars of that starry land may have been shining on the white cliffs and foaming waters of the Jordan when the two disciples came forth from the most momentous meeting of their lives. Next morning still farther reveals what had been the result of that intercourse on their own souls. In their dreams, a ladder, brighter and more glorious than that of their great ancestor with its troops of clustering angels, had been present to them, and transformed the banks of the historic river into a second Bethel — a truer “House of God” than that of the patriarch. Andrew, eager to make others he loved partakers in the joy with which his own heart overflowed, hurries in breathless haste to his brother Simon to communicate the tidings: “We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ (the Anointed One). And he brought him to Jesus.”
How much is contained in that brief announcement, Simon ‘brought to Jesus’ 1 the first introduction of Peter to the heavenly Master, in whose service he was henceforth to be enlisted, and for whom, after a strange mingling of defeats and victories, he was at last to lay down his life in willing martyrdom! The first look of a great man is always memorable, whether king, or hero, or statesman. How profoundly interesting to this lowly Galilean must have been his first glimpse of One to whom he was afterwards to stand in so near and
l Ten a.m. would be according to the Roman computation; bat I hare followed what seems the more likely, and which if adopted by Alford, Neander, Kitto, and others. endearing a relationship, and compared with whom all rank and greatness and power dwindle into nothing; whose advent had formed the longing aspiration of the holy and the good of the nation for many centuries — the theme of psalmists and prophets — the Seed of the woman — the Shiloh of Jacob — the Star of Bethlehem — the Son and Lord of David — the enthroned Priest of Zechariah — the Desire of all nations of Haggai — “the Wonderful, the Counsellor, the mighty God, the Prince of Peace” of the greatest of their seers!
And if the first look be one of deepest interest, much more the first words of personal address. How could Simon ever forget that moment when JeSus beheld him, and said, saluting him by name, “”Thou art Simon the son of Jona: thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, A stone”?1 Do not these Words seem as if the omniscient eye of Christ had discerned at a glance the strong features in the character of His great follower; his natural weakness, his ultimate greatness, his rock-like boldness, firmness, fearlessness; a nature which, unrestrained and ungoverned by higher principles, might have developed itself into what was violent, headstrong, overbearing; but which, despite of a few exceptions, grace moulded and transformed into what was resolute, stable, inflexible, patient, enduring — the result doubtless of living union and contact with the great living w Rock “? As in the ease of the illustrious father of his nation centuries before at Jabbok,
i Cephas — “the rock “The equivocal meaning of the word was, no doubt* evident in the original Aramaic dialect spoken in Galilee. The French alone of modern languages exaetly retains it:” Vous etes Pierre et sur cette Pierre “(Milroan’s II i story of Christian Ipj, vol. i. p. 210). Lange renders the words, “Thou art Simon, the son of the shy dove of the rock: hereafter thou ehatt be called the protecting rock of the dove.” to whom the new name was given of “the hero of Jehovah,” so, “as a prince,” he too was “to have power with God and to prevail.” The good Shepherd “calleth His own sheep by namep and leadeth him out.”
From this hour, Peter (for we shall now adopt the new, divinely-given designation) had enrolled himself among the number of Christ’s disciples. It was the first and in every sense the most momentous crisis in his life — the time when a hundred hours are crowded into one: — similar to the scene witnessed in a future year on the Damascus highway, when in the twinkling of an eye a proud citadel of unbelief and self -righteousness fell to the ground, and its rare treasures were reclaimed and surrendered for the service of the Lord. In the case of both, “all old things passed away, and all things became new.” The suddenness and instantaneousness with which Peter accepted Jesus of Nazareth as his Saviour, was in accordance with the impetuousness of his character. The calm, reasoning, cautious Thomas would have taken days, possibly weeks, to ponder the evidence of the Messiahship claimed by a Galilean workman’s son. The other takes his determination at a bound; and forestals, without hesitation, a future utterance, “Lord, I believe.” In the absence of any miracle at this first meeting to authenticate the claims of Jesus, we must infer that there was something in the look and deportment of the Lamb of God, “fairer than the children of men,” which attracted and overawed the new disciple with an irresistible sense of the Divine Presence. It was the felt power of intrinsic goodness and holiness, and spoke as convincingly as if the shining hosts of Bethlehem had again hovered over the scene, and repeated their natal song. St Jerome, indeed (although we only accept the great spiritual verity underlying the legend), quotes from a “Gospel to the Hebrews” outside the inspired Canon, fragments of which have come down to us, — that radiations of unearthly brightness came from the face of Jesus at the moment of His baptism, and bore irresistible attestation to His Godhead.
Nor is it unworthy of passing note, that the interesting account of this momentous interview we owe entirely to the fourth Evangelist An able writer thus comments on Peter’s first meeting with his Lord being alone recorded by the friend of his youth at Bethsaida, and the dearest companion of his after-years: “It would almost seem that we might detect the old man’s complacency — for John wrote his Gospel in extreme old age — as looking back along the line of half a century of toil and woe, he recalls that scene of his early youth, and with fond and affectionate pride records — what he alone notices — the very marked reception which he saw Jesus give to his friend when they were as yet both strangers to Him. For it is John who tells us that when Andrew introduced his brother to Jesus, the Lord said, ‘Thou art Simon the son of Jona,’ &c. It is John who tells this, and as we read, we feel glad that tpf all the Evangelists it is John who tells it.” 1
Shortly after this period (during which more than one interesting occurrence had taken place, on which, however, our limits forbid us to dwell) these earliest disciples of the Messiah seem to have resumed their wonted occupations. We can only picture how the hearts of the “Pilgrim brothers” of Bethsaida burned within them. The summer sun-
1 Dr Candlish’s Scripture Miscellanies, 263. 254.
shine, the song of bird and breath of flower, would be in accordance with a strange, new inner joy. When out on the sea with their boats and nets, girt in their rough hides, how would they love to rehearse these memorable hours at Bethabara, when He met them by the border river, and they pledged their obedience and love. They little dreamed, doubtless, then of the higher vocation and more intimate fellowship in store for them, which we shall describe in the next chapters, when summoned from their retirement they were to be made a spectacle to devils, and to angels, and to men. Peter’s heart was now given to the Christ of Nazareth, and he only waited a more definite call to abandon for His sake his pleasant home and manly toil, and to surrender his time, his services, and ultimately his life. Though sadly failing on several earlier occasions, as we shall find, to “endure hardness as a good soldier,” yet, he who was reared amid scenes, recalling above all others in Palestine heroic memories, — Israel’s olden age of chivalry, — was, by a lengthened process of training and discipline, to be fitted for the stern moral conflicts of his later career, and finally to be made more than conqueror through Christ who loved him.