Chapter V: Part 5
The manner, also, in which Simon Peter received this communication, shows that he could not have anticipated so glorious and dazzling a result of such horrible evils: for, however literally he may have taken the prophecy of Christ’s cruel death, he used all his powers to dissuade his adored master from exposing himself to a fate so dark and dreadful,――so sadly destructive of all the new-born hopes of his chosen followers, and from which the conclusion of the prophecy seemed to offer no clear or certain mode of escape. Never before, had Jesus spoken in such plain and decided terms, about the prospect of his own terrible death. Peter, whose heart had just been lifted up to the skies with joy and hope, in the prospect of the glorious triumphs to be achieved by his Lord through his means, and whose thoughts were even then dwelling on the honors, the power, the fame, which were to accrue to him for his share in the splendid work,――was shocked beyond measure, at the strange and seemingly contradictory view of the results, now taken by his great leader. With the confident familiarity to which their mutual love and intimacy entitled him, in some measure, he laid his hand expostulatingly upon him, and drew him partly aside, to urge him privately to forget thoughts of despondency, so unworthy of the great enterprise of Israel’s restoration, to which they had all so manfully pledged themselves as his supporters. We may presume, that he, in a tone of encouragement, endeavored to show him how impossible it would be for the dignitaries of Jerusalem to withstand the tide of popularity which had already set so strongly in favor of Jesus; that so far from looking upon himself as in danger of a death so infamous, from the Sanhedrim, he might, at the head of the hosts of his zealous Galileans, march as a conqueror to Jerusalem, and thence give laws from the throne of his father David, to all the wide territories of that far-ruling king. Such dreams of earthly glory seemed to have filled the soul of Peter at that time; and we cannot wonder, then, that every ambitious feeling within him recoiled at the gloomy announcement, that the idol of his hopes was to end his days of unrequited toil, by a death so infamous as that of the cross. “Be it far from thee, Lord,” “God forbid,” “Do not say so,” “Do not thus damp our courage and high hopes,” “This must not happen to thee.”――Jesus, on hearing these words of ill-timed rebuke, which showed how miserably his chief follower had been infatuated and misled, by his foolish and carnal ambition, turned away indignantly from the low and degraded motives, by which Peter sought to bend him from his holy purposes. Not looking upon him, but upon the other disciples, who had kept their feelings of regret and disappointment to themselves, he, in the most energetic terms, expressed his abhorrence of such notions, by his language to the speaker. “Get thee behind me, Satan; thou art a scandal to me; for thou savorest not the things which be of God, but the things which be of men. In these fervent aspirations after eminence, I recognize none of the pure devotion to the good of man, which is the sure test of the love of God; but the selfish desire for transient, paltry distinction, which characterizes the vulgar ambition of common men, enduring no toil or pain, but in the hope of a more than equal earthly reward speedily accruing.” After this stern reply, which must have strongly impressed them all with the nature of the mistake of which they had been guilty, he addressed them still further, in continuation of the same design, of correcting their false notion of the earthly advantages to be expected by his companions in toil. He immediately gave them a most untempting picture of the character and conduct of him, who could be accepted as a fit fellow-worker with Jesus. “If any one wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and let him take up his cross, (as if we should say, let him come with his halter around his neck, and with the gibbet on his shoulder,) and follow me. For whosoever shall save his life for my sake, shall lose it; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake, shall find it. For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the _whole world_, and lose his own soul? For the Son of Man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his angels; and THEN, he shall _reward_ every man according to his works.” “I solemnly tell you, there are some standing here who shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.”――“In vain would you, in pursuit of your idle dreams of earthly glory, yield up all the powers of your soul, and spend your life for an object so worthless. After all, what is there in all the world, if you should have the whole at your disposal――what, for the momentary enjoyment of which, you can calmly pay down your soul as the price? Seek not, then, for rewards so unworthy of the energies which I have recognized in you, and have devoted to far nobler purposes. Higher honors will crown your toils and sufferings, in my service; ――nobler prizes are seen near, with the eye of faith. Speedily will the frail monuments of this world’s wonders crumble, and the memory of its greatnesses pass away; but over the ruins of kingdoms, the coming of the MAN to whom you have joined yourselves is sure, and in that triumphant advent, you shall find the imperishable requital of your faithful and zealous works. And of the nature and aspect of the glories which I now so dimly shadow in words, some of those who now hear me shall soon be the living witnesses, as of a foretaste of rewards, whose full enjoyment can be yours, only after the weariness and misery of this poor life are all passed. Years of toil, dangers, pain, and sorrow,――lives passed in contempt and disgrace,――deaths of ignominy, of unpitied anguish, and lingering torture, must be your passage to the joys of which I speak; while the earthly honors which you now covet, shall for ages continue to be the prize of the base, the cruel, and the foolish, from whom you vainly hope to snatch them.”
THE TRANSFIGURATION.
The mysterious promise thus made by Jesus, of a new and peculiar exhibition of himself, to some of his chosen ones, he soon sought an occasion of executing. About six or eight days after this remarkable conversation, he took Peter, and the two sons of Zebedee, James and John, and went with them up into a high mountain, apart by themselves. As to the name and place of this mountain, a matter of some interest certainly, there have been two opinions among those who have attempted to illustrate the topography of the gospels. The phrase, “a high mountain,” has instantly brought to the thoughts of most learned readers, Mount Tabor, famous for several great events in Bible history, which they have instantly adopted, without considering the place in which the previous account had left Jesus, which was Caesarea Philippi; hereafter described as in the farthest northern part of Galilee. Now, Mount Tabor, however desirable in other particulars, as the scene of a great event in the life of Jesus, was full seventy miles south of the place where Jesus had the conversation with his disciples, which led to the remarkable display which followed a few days after, on the mountain. It is true, that the intervening period of a week, was sufficient to enable him to travel this distance with ease; but the difficulty is, to assign some possible necessity or occasion for such a journey. Certainly, he needed not to have gone thus far to find a mountain, for Caesarea Philippi itself stands by the base of Paneas, which is a part of the great Syrian range of Antilibanus. This great mountain, or mountain chain, rises directly behind the city, and parts of it are so high above the peak of Tabor, or any other mountain in Palestine, as to be covered with snow, even in that warm country. The original readers of the gospel story, were dwellers in Palestine, and must have been, for the most part, well acquainted with the character of the places which were the scenes of the incidents, and could hardly have been ignorant of the fact, that this splendid city, so famous as the monument of royal vanity and munificence, was near the northern end of Palestine, and of course, must have been known even by those who had never seen it, nor heard it particularly described, to be very near the great Syrian mountains; so near too, as to be very high elevated above the cities of the southern country, since not far from the city gushed out the most distant sources of the rapid Jordan. But another difficulty, in respect to this journey of seventy miles to Tabor, is, that while the gospels give no account of it, it is even contradicted by Mark’s statement, that after departing from the mountain, he passed through Galilee, and came to Capernaum, which is between Tabor and Caesarea Philippi, twenty or thirty miles from the former, and forty or fifty from the latter. Now, that Jesus Christ spared no exertion of body or mind, in “going about doing good,” no one can doubt; but that he would spend the strength devoted to useful purposes, in traveling from one end of Galilee to the other, for no greater good than to ascend a particular mountain, and then to travel thirty miles back on the same route, is a most unnecessary tax upon our faith. But here, close to Caesarea Philippi, was the mighty range of Antilibanus, known in Hebrew poetry by the name of Hermon in this part; and _He_, whose presence made all places holy, could not have chosen, among all the mountains of Palestine, one which nature had better fitted to impress the beholder who stood on the summit, with ideas of the vast and sublime. Modern travelers assure us that, from the peaks behind the city, the view of the lower mountains to the south,――of the plain through which the young Jordan flows, soon spreading out into the broad sheet of lake Houle, (Samachonitis lacus,) and of the country, almost to lake Tiberias, is most magnificent. The precise peak which was the scene of the event here related, it is impossible to conjecture. It may have been any one of three which are prominent: either the castle hill, or, farther off and much higher, Mount Bostra, once the site of a city, or farther still, and highest of all, Merura Jubba, which is but a few hours walk from the city. The general impression of the vulgar, however, and of those who take the traditions of the vulgar and the ignorant, without examination, has been, that Tabor was the scene of the event, so that, at this day, it is known among the stupid Christians of Palestine, by the name of the Mount of the Transfiguration. So idly are these foolish local traditions received, that this falsehood, so palpable on inspection, has been quietly handed down from traveler to traveler, ever since the crusades, when hundreds of these and similar localities, were hunted up so hastily, and by persons so ill-qualified for the search, that more modern investigators may be pardoned for treating with so little consideration the voice of _such_ antiquity, when it is found opposed to a rational and consistent understanding of the gospel story. When the question was first asked, “Where is the mount of the transfiguration?” there were enough persons interested to reply, “Mount Tabor.” No reason was probably asked for the decision, and none was given; but as the scene was acted on a high mountain in Galilee, and as Tabor answered perfectly to this very simple description, and was moreover interesting on many other accounts, both historical and natural, it was adopted for the transfiguration without any discussion whatever, among those on the spot. Still, to learned and diligent readers of the gospels, the ♦inconsistencies of such a belief have been so obvious, that many great theologians have decided, for the reasons here given, that the transfiguration must have taken place on some part of Mount Paneas, as it was called by the Greeks and Romans, known among the Jews, however, from the earliest times, by the far older name of Mount HERMON. On the determination of this point, more words have been expended than some may deem the matter to deserve; but among the various objects of the modern historian of Bible times, none is more important or interesting, ♠than that of settling the often disputed topography of the sacred narrative; and as the ground here taken differs so widely from the almost universally received opinion, the minute reasons were loudly called for, in justification of the author’s boldness. The ancient blunders here detected, and shown to be based only upon a guess, is a very fair specimen of the way in which, in the moral as in the natural sciences, “they all copy from one another,” without taking pains to look into the truth of small matters. And it seems to show, moreover, how, when men of patient and zealous accuracy, have taken the greatest pains to expose and correct so causeless an error, common readers and writers too, will carelessly and lazily slip back into the old blunder, thus making the counsels of the learned of no effect, and loving darkness rather than light, error rather than exactness, because they are too shiftless to find a good reason for what is laid down before them as truth. But so it is. It is, and always has been, and always will be, so much easier for men to swallow whole, or reject whole, the propositions made to them, that the vast majority had much rather believe on other people’s testimony, than go through the harassing and tiresome task, of looking up the proofs for themselves. In this very instance, this important topographical blunder was fully exposed and corrected a century and a half ago, by Lightfoot, the greatest Hebrew scholar that ever lived; and we see how much wiser the world is for his pains.
♦ “inconsistences” replaced with “inconsistencies”
♠ duplicate word “than” removed
_Caesarea Philippi._――This city stood where all the common
maps place it, in the farthest northern part of Palestine, just
at the foot of the mountains, and near the fountain head of
the Jordan. The name by which it is called in the gospels, is
another instance, like Julias Bethsaida, of a compliment paid
by the servile kings, of the divisions of Palestine, to their
imperial masters, who had given, and who at any time could take
away, crown and kingdom from them. The most ancient name by
which this place is known to have been mentioned in the Hebrew
scriptures, is _Lasha_, in Genesis x. 19, afterwards variously
modified into _Leshem_, (Joshua xix. 47,) and _Laish_, (Judges
xviii. 7: xiv. 29,) a name somewhat like the former in sound,
though totally different in meaning, (לשם _leshem_, “a precious
stone,” and ליש _laish_, “a lion,”) undoubtedly all three being
from the same root, but variously modified in the changing
pronunciations of different ages and tribes. In the earliest
passage, (Genesis x. 19,) it is clearly described as on the
farthest northern limit of the land of Canaan, and afterwards,
being conquered long after most of the cities of that region, by
the tribe of Dan, and receiving the name of this tribe, as an
addition to its former one, it became proverbially known under
the name of _Dan_, as the farthest northern point of the land of
Israel, as Beersheba was the southern one. It did not, however,
lose its early Canaanitish name till long after, for, in Isaiah
x. 30, it is spoken of under the name of Laish, as the most
distant part of Israel, to which the cry of the distressed could
reach. It is also mentioned under its later name of Dan, in
Genesis xiv. 14, and Deuteronomy xxxiv. 1, where it is given by
the writer, or some copyist, in anticipation of the subsequent
account of its acquiring this name after the conquest. Josephus
also mentions it, under this name, in Antiquities book i.
chapter 10, and book viii. chapter 8, section 4, in both which
places he speaks of it as standing at one of the sources of
the Jordan, from which circumstance, no doubt, the latter part
of the river’s name is derived. After the overthrow of the
Israelitish power in that region, it fell into the hands of new
possessors, and under the Greeks and Romans, went by the name of
Panias, (Josephus and Ptolemy,) or Paneas, (Josephus and Pliny,)
which name, according to Ptolemy, it had under the Phoenicians.
This name, supposed to have been taken from the Phoenician name
of the mountain near, Josephus gives to it, in all the later
periods of his history, until he speaks of the occasion on which
it received a new change of name.
Its commanding and remarkable position, on the extremity of
Palestine, made it a frontier post of some importance; and it
was therefore a desirable addition to the dominions of Herod the
Great, who received it from his royal patron, Augustus Caesar,
along with its adjacent region between Galilee and Trachonitis,
after the death of Zenodorus, its former possessor. (Josephus
Antiquities book xv. chapter 10, section 3.) Herod the Great,
out of gratitude for this princely addition to his dominions,
at a time when attempts were made to deprive him of his imperial
master’s favor, raised near this city, a noble monument to
Augustus. (Josephus as above quoted.) “He built a monument to
him, of white marble, in the land of Zenodorus, near Panium.
There is a beautiful cave in the mountain, and beneath it there
is a chasm in the earth, rugged, and of immense depth, full
of still water, and over it hangs a vast mountain; and under
the cave rise the springs of the Jordan. This place, already
very famous, he adorned with the temple which he consecrated to
Caesar.” A lofty temple of white marble, on such a high spot,
contrasted with the dark rocks of the mountain and cave around,
must have been a splendid object in the distance, and a place of
frequent resort.
This city, along with the adjacent provinces, after the death
of the first Herod, was given to his son Philip, made tetrarch
of Iturea and Trachonitis. This prince, out of gratitude to
the royal donor, at the same time when he rebuilt and repaired
Bethsaida, as already mentioned, “also embellished Paneas, at
the fountains of the Jordan, and gave it the name of Caesarea.”
(Josephus Antiquities book xviii. chapter 2, section 1, also
Jewish War, book ii. chapter 9, section 1,) and to distinguish
it from other Caesareas, hereafter to be mentioned, it was
called from the name of its royal builder, Caesarea Philippi,
that is, “the Caesarea of Philip.” By this name it was most
commonly known in the time of Christ; but it did not answer the
end of perpetuating the name of its builder and his patron, for
it shortly afterwards recovered its former name, Paneas, which,
probably, never went wholly out of use. As late as the time
of Pliny, (about A. D. 70,) Paneas was a part of the name of
Caesarea. _Fons Paneas, qui cognomen dedit Caesareae_, “the
fountain Paneas, which gave to Caesarea a surname.” (Pliny
Natural History book v. chapter 15,) which shows, that at that
time, the name Paneas was one, by which even foreign geographers
recognized this city, in spite of the imperial dignity of its
new title. Eusebius, (about A. D. 315,) speaks of “Caesarea
Philippi, which the Phoenicians call Paneas, at the foot
of mount Panium.” (Φιλιππου Καισαρεια ἡν Πανεαδα Θοινικες
προσαγορευσι, &c. Church History book vii. chapter 17.) Jerome,
(about A. D. 392,) never mentions the name Caesarea Philippi,
as belonging to this city, except in commenting on Matthew
xvi. 13, where he finds it necessary to explain this name, as
an antiquated term, then out of use. _Caesaream Philippi, quae
NUNC dicitur Paneas_, “Caesarea Philippi, which is _now_ called
Paneas;” and in all the other places where he has occasion to
mention the place, he gives it only the name of Paneas. Thus, in
commenting on Amos viii. 14, he says, “Dan, on the boundary of
the Jewish territory, where _now_ is Paneas.” And on Jeremiah
iv. 15,――“The tribe Dan, near mount Lebanon, and the city which
is _now_ called Paneas,” &c.――See also commentary on Daniel
xiii. 16.
After the death of Philip, this city, along with the rest of
his dominions, was presented by Cains Caligula to Agrippa, who
added still farther to the improvements made by Philip, more
particularly ornamenting the Panium, or famous source of the
Jordan, near the city, as Josephus testifies. (Jewish War, book
iii. chapter 9, section 7.) “The natural beauty of the Panium,
moreover, was still more highly adorned (προσεξησκηται) with
royal magnificence, being embellished by the wealth of Agrippa.”
This king also attempted to perpetuate the name of one of
his imperial patrons, in connection with the city, calling it
_Neronias_, in honor of one who is well enough known without
this aid. (Josephus Antiquities book xx. chapter 8, section 3.)
The perfectly transient character of this idle appellation, is
abundantly shown from the preceding copious quotations.
The city, now called Banias, (not _Belinas_, as Wahl erroneously
says,) has been visited and examined in modern times by several
travelers, of whom, none has described it more minutely than
Burckhardt. His account of the mountains around the city,
so finely illustrates my description of the scene of the
transfiguration, that I extract largely from it here. In order
to appreciate the description fully, it must be understood that
_Heish_ is now the general Arabic name for the mountain chain,
which was by ancient authors variously called Lebanon, Libanus,
Anti-Libanus, Hermon, and Panium; for all these names have been
given to the mountain-range, on whose slope Caesarea Philippi,
or Paneas, stood.
“The district of Banias is classic ground; it is the ancient
_Caesarea Philippi_; the lake Houle, is the _Lacus Samachonitis_.
Immediately after my arrival, I took a man of the village to
shew me the way to the ruined castle of Banias, which bears
East by South from it. It stands on the top of a mountain, which
forms part of the mountain of Heish, at an hour and a quarter
from Banias; it is now in complete ruins, but was once a very
strong fortress. Its whole circumference is twenty-five minutes.
It is surrounded by a wall ten feet thick, flanked with numerous
round towers, built with equal blocks of stone, each about
two feet square. The keep, or citadel, seems to have been on
the highest summit, on the eastern side, where the walls are
stronger than on the lower, or western side. The view from
thence over the Houle and a part of its lake, the Djebel Safad,
and the barren Heish, is magnificent. On the western side,
within the precincts of the castle, are ruins of many private
habitations. At both the western corners, runs a succession of
dark, strongly built, low apartments, like cells, vaulted, and
with small narrow loop holes, as if for musquetry. On this side
also, is a well more than twenty feet square, walled in, with a
vaulted roof at least twenty-five feet high; the well was, even
in this dry season, full of water: there are three others in the
castle. There are many apartments and recesses in the castle,
which could only be exactly described by a plan of the whole
building. It seems to have been erected during the period of
the crusades, and must certainly have been a very strong hold
to those who possessed it. I could discover no traces of a road
or paved way leading up the mountain to it. In winter time,
the shepherds of the Felahs of the Heish, who encamp upon the
mountains, pass the night in the castle with their cattle.
“Banias is situated at the foot of the Heish, in the plain,
which in the immediate vicinity of Banias is not called Ard
Houle, but Ard Banias. It contains about one hundred and fifty
houses, inhabited mostly by Turks: there are also Greeks, Druses,
and Enzairie. It belongs to Hasbeya, whose Emir nominates the
Sheikh. On the north-east side of the village, is the source
of the river of Banias, which empties itself into the Jordan
at the distance of an hour and a half, in the plain below. Over
the source is a perpendicular rock, in which several niches
have been cut to receive statues. The largest niche is above a
spacious cavern, under which the river rises. This niche is six
feet broad and as much in depth, and has a smaller niche in the
bottom of it. Immediately above it, in the perpendicular face of
the rock, is another niche, adorned with pilasters, supporting a
shell ornament.
“Round the source of the river are a number of hewn stones.
The stream flows on the north side of the village, where is
a well built bridge, and some remains of the ancient town,
the principal part of which seems, however, to have been on
the opposite side of the river, where the ruins extend for a
quarter of an hour from the bridge. No walls remain, but great
quantities of stones and architectural fragments are scattered
about.
“I went to see the ruins of the ancient city of Bostra, of which
the people spoke much. Bostra must not be confounded with Boszra,
in the Haouran; both places are mentioned in the Books of Moses.
The way to the ruins lies for an hour and a half in the road by
which I came from Rasheyat-el-Fukhar, it then ascends for three
quarters of an hour a steep mountain to the right, on the top
of which is the city; it is divided into two parts, the largest
being upon the very summit, the smaller at ten minutes walk
lower down, and resembling a suburb to the upper part. Traces
are still visible of a paved way that had connected the two
divisions. There is scarcely any thing in the ruins worth notice;
they consist of the foundations of private habitations, built
of moderate sized square stones. The lower city is about twelve
minutes walk in circumference; a part of the four walls of one
building only remains entire; in the midst of the ruins was
a well, at this time dried up. The circuit of the upper city
may be about twenty minutes; in it are the remains of several
buildings. In the highest part is a heap of wrought stones, of
larger dimensions than the rest, which seem to indicate that
some public building had once stood on the spot. There are
several columns of one foot, and of one foot and a half in
diameter. In two different places, a short column was standing
in the centre of a round paved area of about ten feet in
diameter. There is likewise a deep well, walled in, but now dry.
“The country around these ruins is very capable of cultivation.
Near the lower city are groups of olive trees.
“I descended the mountain in the direction towards the source of
the Jordan, and passed, at the foot of it, the miserable village
of Kerwaya. Behind the mountain of Bostra is another, still
higher, called Djebel Meroura Djoubba.” [Burckhardt’s Syria,
pp. 37‒42.]
From Conder’s Modern Traveler I also draw a sketch of other
travelers’ observations on the place and the surrounding country.
“BURCKHARDT, in coming from Damascus, pursued the more direct
route taken by the caravans, which crosses the Jordan at Jacob’s
Bridge. Captains Irby and Mangles left this road at Khan Sasa,
and passed to the westward for Panias, thus striking between the
road to Acre, and that by Raschia and Hasbeya. The first part
of the road from Sasa, led through a fine plain, watered by a
pretty, winding rivulet, with numerous tributary streams, and
many old ruined mills. It then ascended over a very rugged and
rocky soil, quite destitute of vegetation, having in some places
traces of an ancient paved way, ‘probably the Roman road from
Damascus to Caesarea Philippi.’ The higher part of Djebel Sheikh
was seen on the right. The road became less stony, and the
shrubs increased in number, size and beauty, as they descended
into a rich little plain, at the immediate foot of the mountain.
‘From this plain,’ continues captain M., ‘we ascended, and,
after passing a very small village, saw on our left, close to
us, a very picturesque lake, apparently perfectly circular,
of little more than a mile in circumference, surrounded on
all sides by sloping hills, richly wooded. On quitting Phiala,
at but a short distance from it, we crossed a stream which
discharges into the larger one which we first saw: the latter
we followed for a considerable distance; and then, mounting a
hill to the south-west, had in view the great Saracenic castle,
near Panias, the town of that name, and the plain of the Jordan,
as far as the Lake Houle, with the mountains on the other
side of the plain, forming altogether a fine _coup d’œil_. As
we descended towards Panias, we found the country extremely
beautiful. Great quantities of wild flowers, and a variety of
shrubs, just budding, together with the richness of the verdure,
grass, corn and beans, showed us, all at once, the beauties of
spring, (February 24,) and conducted us into a climate quite
different from Damascus. In the evening we entered Panias,
crossing a causeway constructed over the rivulet, which flows
from the foot of Djebel Sheikh. The river here rushes over great
rocks in a very picturesque manner, its banks being covered with
shrubs and the ruins of ancient walls.’
“Panias, afterwards called Caesarea Philippi, has resumed its
ancient name. The present town of Banias is small. Seetzen
describes it as a little hamlet of about twenty miserable huts,
inhabited by Mahomedans. The ‘Castle of Banias’ is situated
on the summit of a lofty mountain: it was built, Seetzen says,
without giving his authority, in the time of the caliphs.”
[Modern Traveler Vol. I. pp. 353‒6.]
The distance, in time, from Mount Tabor to Caesarea Philippi,
may be conceived from the account given by Ebn Haukal, an
Arabian geographer and traveler of the tenth century. He says
“from Tibertheh (Tiberias, which is near Tabor) to _Sur_, (Tyre,)
is one day’s journey; and from that to _Banias_, (Paneas,) is
two day’s easy journey.” [Sir W. Ouseley’s translation of Ebn
Haukal’s Geography, pp. 48, 49.]
This was an occasion on which Christ did not choose to display his glories to the eyes of the ignorant and impertinent mobs that usually thronged his path, drawn together as they were, by idle curiosity, by selfish wishes for relief from various diseases, or by the determination to profit by the mischief, which almost always results from such a promiscuous assemblage. It may be fairly considered a moral impossibility, for such disorderly and spontaneous assemblies to meet, without more evils resulting, than can possibly be counterbalanced by the good done to the assembly as a whole, whatever it may be to individuals. So, at least, Jesus Christ seems always to have thought, for he never encouraged such gatherings, and took every desirable opportunity of getting rid of them, without injury to themselves, or of withdrawing himself quietly from them, as the easiest way of dispersing them; knowing how utterly hopeless must be the attempt to do any great good among such a set of idlers, compared with what he might do by private and special intercourse with individuals. It is worthy of note, that Matthew and all whose calls are described, were about their business. Thus, on an occasion already mentioned, when Jesus was walking by the sea of Galilee, with the simple object of doing most good, he did not seek among the multitude that was following him, for the devoted laborers whom he might call to the great work of drawing in men to the knowledge of the truth as revealed in him. No: he turned from all the zealous loungers who had left their business, if they had any, to drag about after the wonderful man who had attracted general attention by his great and good deeds. He dispatched them as fast as possible with a few words of instruction and exhortation; for though he did not seek these undesirable occasions, yet he would have been as much wanting in benevolence as in wisdom, if, when all the evils of such a throng had occurred by the meeting, he had not hastened to offer the speediest antidote to the mischief, and the best compensation for the loss of time to the company, by giving them such words of counsel, reproof, correction or encouragement, as, even when cast like bread upon the waters, or seed by the way side, might yet perchance, or by grace, “be found after many days,” returning to the hands of the giver, in gratitude, by springing up and bearing some fruit to the praise and glory of God. Having thus sent off the throng, he addressed himself to the honest men whom he had found quietly following their daily employments, and immediately performed with them there, and, as is evident, mainly for their benefit, a most remarkable miracle; and when they had been thus impressed with his power and wisdom, summoned them to his aid in converting the world; sagely and truly judging, that those who had been faithful in few things, would be the best rulers over many things,――that they who had steadily and faithfully worked at their proper business, had the best talent and disposition for laboring in a cause which needed so much patient industry and steady application in its devotees. These were the men whom he hoped to make by his instructions, the successful founders of the Christian faith; and these were the very men whom, out of thousands who longed for the honors of his notice, he now chose as the objects of his special instruction and commission, and called them apart to view the display of the most wonderful mystery of his life.
Among these three favored ones, we see Peter included, and his name, as usual, _first_ of all. By this it appears, that, however great his late unfortunate misapprehension of the character and office of Christ, and however he may have deserved the harsh rebuff with which his forward but well meant remonstrance was met; still he was so far from having lost his Master’s favor on this account, that he yet held the highest place in the favor of Jesus, who had been moved by the exposure of his favorite’s ignorance, only to new efforts to give him a just and clear view of the important truths in which he was most deficient; for after all, there was nothing _very_ surprising in Peter’s mistake. In pursuance of this design, he took these three, Peter, James and John, with him, up into the high mountain peaks of Hermon, from which their eyes might glance far south over the land of Israel――the land of their fathers for ages on ages, stretching away before them for a vast distance, and fancy could easily extend the view. In this land, so holy in the recollections of the past, so sad to the contemplation of the present, were to begin their mighty labors. Here, too, bright and early, one of the three was to end his; while his brother and friend were to spread their common Master’s dominion over thousands and millions who had never yet heard of that land, or its ancient faith. Jesus Christ always sought the lonely tops of mountains, with a peculiar zest, in his seasons of retirement, as well as for the most impressive displays of his eloquence, or his miraculous power. The obvious reasons were the advantages of perfect solitude and security against sudden intrusion; ――the free, pure air of the near heaven, and the broad light of the immense prospect, were powerful means of lifting the soul to a state of moral sublimity, equal to the impressions of physical grandeur, made by the objects around. Their most holy historical associations, moreover, were connected with the tops of high mountains, removed from which, the most awful scenes of ancient miracle would, to the fancy of the dweller of mountainous Palestine, have seemed stripped of their most imposing aids. Sinai, Horeb, Moriah, Zion, Ebal, Gerizim and Tabor, were the classic ground of Hebrew history, and to the fiery mind of the imaginative Israelite, their high tops seemed to tower in a religious ♦sublimity, as striking and as lasting as their physical elevation. From these lofty peaks, so much nearer to the dwelling place of God, his soul took a higher flight than did ever the fancy of the Greek, from the classic tops of Parnassus, Pelion, Ida, or the skyish head of blue Olympus; and the three humble gazers, who now stood waiting there with their divine Master, felt, no doubt, their devotion proportionally exalted with their situation, by such associations. It was the same spirit, that, throughout the ancient world, led the earliest religionists to avail themselves of these physical advantages, as they did in their mountain worship, and with a success just in proportion as the purity and sincerity of their worship, and the high character of its object, corresponded with the lofty grandeur of the place.
♦ “snblimity” replaced with “sublimity”
“Not vainly did the early Persian make
His altar the high places, and the peak
Of earth-o’er-gazing mountains, there to seek
The spirit, in whose honor shrines are weak,
Upreared of human hands. Come and compare
Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth or Greek,
With nature’s realms of worship, earth and air;
Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer.”
In such a scene, and inspired by such sympathies, were the chosen three, on this occasion. The bare details, as given in the three gospels, make it evident that the scene took place in the night, as will be shown in the course of the narrative; and this was in accordance also with Christ’s usual custom of choosing the night, as the season of solitary meditation and prayer. (Matthew xiv. 23.) Having reached the top, he engaged himself and them in prayer. How solemn――how awful the scene! The Savior of all, afar from the abodes of men, from the sound and sight of human cares and sins, alone with his chosen three, on the vast mountains, with the world as far beneath their eyes as its thoughts were below their minds;――in the silence of the night, with the lights of the city and villages faintly gleaming in the distance on the lower hills and the plain,――with no sound near them but the murmuring of the night wind about the rocks,――with the dark canopy of gathering clouds above them,――Jesus prayed. His voice went up from this high altar of earth’s wide temple to the throne of his Father, to whom he commended in words of supplication, those who were to labor for him when his earthly work should cease. We may well suppose that the substance of his prayer was, that their thoughts, before so groveling, and now so devotedly clinging to visions of earthly dominion and personal aggrandizement, might “leave all meaner things, to low ambition and the pride of kings,” and might rise, as on that high peak, from earth towards heaven, to the just sense of the far higher efforts and honors to which they were destined. With their thoughts and feelings thus kindled with the holy associations of the hour, the place and the person, their souls must have risen with his in that solemn and earnest supplication, and their prayers for new devotion and exaltation of spirit must have been almost equally ardent. Probably some hours were passed in this employment, varied perhaps by the eloquent and pointed instructions given by Jesus, to prepare these chiefs of the apostolic band, for the full understanding of the nature of his mission and theirs. How vastly important to their success in their labors, and to their everlasting happiness, must these prayers and instructions have been! The three hearers, we may presume, gave for a long time the most devoted attention which a scene so impressive could awaken; but yet they were men, and weary ones too, for they had come a considerable distance up a very steep way, and it was now late at night,――no doubt long past their bed-time. The exercise which their journey to the spot had given them, was of a kind for which their previous habits of life had quite unfitted them. They were all fishermen, and had dwelt all their lives in the low flat country on the shores of lake Tiberias and the valley of the Jordan, where they had nothing to do with climbing hills. And though their constant habits of hard labor must have made them stout men in their vocation, yet we all know that the muscles called into action by the management of the boat and net, are very different from those which support and advance a man in ascending acclivities. Every one that has noticed the sturdy arms and slender legs of most sailors, has had the practical proof, that a man may work all his life at pulling the seine and drag-net, hauling the ropes of a vessel, and tugging at the oar, without being thereby, in the slightest degree, fitted for labors of a different character. The work of toiling up a very high, steep mountain, then, was such as all their previous habits of life had wholly unfitted them for, and their over-stretched limbs and bodies must have been both sore and weary, so that when they came to a resting place, they very naturally were disposed to repose, and must have felt drowsy. In short, they fell asleep; and that too, as it would appear, in the midst of the prayers and counsels of their adorable Lord. And yet who, that considers all the reasons above given, can wonder? for it is very possible for a man to feel the highest interest in a subject offered to his consideration,――an interest, too, which may for a long time enable a zealous mind to triumph over bodily incapacity,――yet there is a point beyond which the most intense energy of mind cannot drag the sinking body, when fatigue has drained its strength, which nothing but sleep can renew. Men, when thus worn down, will sleep in the midst of a storm, or on the eve of certain death. In such a state were the bodies of the companions of Jesus, and thus wearied, they slept long, in spite of the storm which is supposed by many to have arisen, and to have been the immediate cause of some of the striking appearances which followed. It is said by many standard commentators, that the fairest account of such of the incidents as are connected with natural objects, is, that a tremendous thunder-storm came down upon the mountain while they were asleep, and that a loud peal bursting from this, was the immediate cause of their awaking. All the details that are given, certainly justify the supposition. They are described as suddenly starting from their sleep, in such a manner as would naturally follow only from a loud noise violently arousing the slumbering senses. Awakened thus by a peal of thunder, the first sight that struck their amazed eyes, was their Master, resplendent through the darkness of night and storm, with a brilliant light, that so shone upon him and covered him, as to change his whole aspect to a degree of glory indescribable. To add to their amazement and dread, they saw that he was not alone, but two mysterious and spiritual personages, announced to them as Moses and Elijah, were now his companions, having found means to join him, though high on the mighty rock, alone and in darkness, so inaccessible to human approach. These two ancient servants of God now appeared by his beloved Son, whose labors, and doctrines and triumphs were so far to transcend theirs, and in the hearing of the three apostles, uttered solemn words of prophecy about his approaching death, and triumph over death. The two sons of Zebedee were so startled as to be speechless, but the boldness and the talkativeness of Peter, always so pre-eminent, enabled him, even here, to speak his deep awe and reverence. Yet confused with half-awakened sleep, and stunned by the bursting thunder, he spoke as a man thus suddenly awaked naturally speaks, scarcely separating the thoughts of his dream, from the objects that met his opening eye. He said “Lord, it is good for us to be here; and if thou wilt, let us make three tabernacles, (or resting places;) one for thee, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” These things he said before his confused thoughts could fully arrange themselves into words proper to express his feelings of awe, and he, half dreaming still, hardly knew what he said. But as he uttered these words, the dark cloud above them suddenly descended upon the mountain’s head, inwrapping and overshadowing them, and amid the flash of lightnings and the roar of thunders, given out in the concussion, they distinguished, in no human voice, these awful words, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye him.” Who can wonder that a phenomenon so tremendous, both morally and physically, overwhelmed their senses, and, that alarmed beyond measure, they fell again on their faces to the earth, so astonished that they did not dare to rise or look up, until Jesus came to them and reassured them with his friendly touch, saying “Arise and be not afraid.” And lifting up their eyes, they saw no man any more, save Jesus only with themselves. The whole object of their retirement to this solitude being now accomplished, they prepared to return to those whom they had left to wonder at their strange absence. It was now probably about morning; the storm was passed,――the clouds had vanished,――the thunder was hushed, and the cheerful sun now shone on mountain and plain, illuminating their downward path towards the city, and inspiring their hearts with the joyous emotions suited to their enlarged views of their Lord’s kingdom, and their own duties. As they went down, Jesus charged them to tell no man what things they had seen, till he, the son of man, rose from the dead. And they kept it close, and told no man in those days any of those things which they had seen. But they questioned much with one another what the rising from the dead should mean. So that it appears, that after all the repeated assurances Jesus had given them of the certainty of this event, they had never put any clear and definite meaning upon his words, and were still totally in the dark as to their essential import. This proof of their continued ignorance serves to confirm the view already taken of the way in which they understood, or rather misunderstood, the previous warning of the same event, in connection with his charge and rebuke of Peter. In connection also with what they had seen on the mountain, and the injunction of secrecy, another question arose, why they could not be allowed to speak freely on the subject. “For if they had now distinctly seen the prophet Elijah returned from the other world, as it appeared, why could they not properly announce publicly, so important and desirable an event? Else, why did the Jewish teachers say that Elijah must first come before the Messiah? And why, then, should they not freely offer their testimony of his presence with Jesus on this occasion, as the most satisfactory proof of his Messiahship?” The answer of Jesus very clearly informed them that they were not to consider this vision as having any direct connection with the prophecy respecting Elijah’s re-appearance, to precede and aid the true Messiah in the establishment of the ancient Jewish dominion; but that all that was intended in that prophecy had been fully brought to pass in the coming of John the Baptist, who, in the spirit and power of Elijah, had already run his bright but brief course as the Messiah’s precursor. With such interesting conversation they continued their course in returning towards the city. The way in which Luke here expresses the circumstances of the time of their return, is the last and most satisfactory proof to be offered of the fact, that their visit to the mountain had been in the night. His words are, “And it came to pass that on the next day, when they came down from the mountain, a large multitude met them,” &c. This shows that they did not go and return the same day, between sunrise and sunset; and the only reasonable supposition left to agree with the other circumstances, is, that they went at evening, and returned early in the morning of the next day. After their descent, they found that the remaining disciples had been making an unsuccessful attempt to relieve a lunatic person, who was relieved, however, at a word, as soon as brought to Jesus himself. They continued no very long time in this part of Galilee, after these events, but journeyed slowly southwards, towards the part which Jesus had formerly made his home. This journey was made by him with particular care to avoid public notice, and it is particularly expressed by Mark that he went on this homeward journey through by-ways or less public roads than usual. For as he went, he renewed the sad warning, that he was in constant danger of being given up into the hands of the wicked men, who feeling reproved and annoyed by his life and doctrine, earnestly desired his death; and that soon their malice would be for a time successful, but that after they had done their worst, he should at last triumph over them. Still this assurance, obvious as its meaning may now seem to us, was not understood by them, and though they puzzled themselves extremely about it, they evidently considered their ignorance as of a somewhat justly blamable nature, for they dared not ask for a new explanation. This passage still farther shows, how far they must have been from rightly appreciating his first declaration on this subject. Having followed the less direct routes, for these reasons, he came, (doing much good on the journey, no doubt, in a quiet and unnoticed way, as we know he always did,) to Capernaum, which he still regarded as his home; and here again, as formerly, went directly to the house of Simon Peter, which he is represented as entering on his first arrival in the city, in such a way as to show that there was his dwelling, and a welcome entertainment. Indeed we know of no other friend whom he had in Capernaum, with whom he was on such terms of intimacy, and we cannot suppose that he kept house by himself,――for his relations had never yet removed from Nazareth.
Of the scenes of the transfiguration, so great a variety of
opinions have been entertained, that it would be impossible for
me to discuss the various views within my narrow limits. The
old speculations on the subject are very fully given in Poole’s
Synopsis, and the modern ones by Kuinoel, who mentions a vast
number of German writers, of whom few of us have ever seen even
the names elsewhere.
The view which I have taken is not peculiar to me, but is
supported by many high authorities, and is in accordance with
what seemed to me the simplest and fairest construction which
could be put upon the facts, after a very full and minute
consideration of the various circumstances, chronologically,
topographically and grammatically. It should be noticed that
my arrangement of the facts in reference to the time of day,
is this. Jesus and the three disciples ascended the mountain
in the evening, about sunset, remained there all night during
a thunder-storm, and returned the next morning.
THE TRIBUTE MONEY.
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Lives of the apostles of Jesus ChristChapter V: Part 5
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