VI.

A SUNSET SCENE IN CAPERNAUM.

Matt, viii. 16, 17; Marki, 32, 33; Luke iv. 40, 41,

I HAVE always regarded the scene which these verses describe as one of the most beautiful in the life of our Lord Jesus Christ upon the earth. It was the end of the Sabbath in the city of Capernaum. The sun had just gone down behind the mountains, and its afterglow was lingering yet upon the summits of the hills on the eastern shore of the lake of Tiberius, whose waters lay dark and motionless, as if preparing themselves to mirror the earliest of the stars. The Master and his disciples were still in the home of Peter, where he had gladdened all their hearts, by healing the mother-in-law of his apostle of the fever which was burning in her veins. But on the outside a multitude so great that it might be said to comprise all the inhabitants of the place, was gathered together. Unlike other crowds, this was divided into groups, and in the centre of each of these, an object of intense solicitude to all its members, was some poor afflicted relative, who was suffering from one or other of the diseases that flesh is heir to, and whom they had brought for healing to the Great Physician. There were those who were possessed with demons, and those who were blind, and deaf, and lame. The chronic

invalid, and he who had just been seized with some acute malady, were there, and when the Lord came forth "he laid his hands on every one of them, and healed them." What glad gratitude would fill all their hearts at such a result of their application to him, and who may attempt to describe the feelings of each group, as its members separated through the deepening darkness to their homes, or the emotions of those who were healed, as they felt the vigor of health once more giving elasticity to their steps and buoyancy to their spirits? And yet the whole story is told here most artlessly, without any attempt at amplification, far less of exaggeration, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world! What a striking, although incidental, proof, we have in this of the inspiration of the evangelists! Other writers would have tried to make the most of such a constellation of miracles, but they do not stop in their narratives to remark upon it at all; they let it shine with its own light in the firmament of that life in which what seemed to men to be natural was really supernatural, and what appeared to mere human view to be supernatural, was most truly natural, because it is the life of him who was and is incarnate God.

Have we not here also an impressive illustration of the compassion of Christ? He never saw a multitude without feeling for all that were in it, and no sufferer ever made application for relief to him in vain. So here "he laid his hands on every one of them and healed them." Each had his own form of disease, but that touch of power was enough to convey health, no matter what the particular malady might be. And in all this, viewed as a sign, or acted parable of gospel truth, we have the assurance that the Saviour is able and willing to remove from us every form of sin, and to work in us that holi

ness without which we cannot see the Lord. You remember that suggestive phrase in Solomon's prayer at the dedication of the Temple, "What prayer and sup plication so ever be made by any man, or by all thy people Israel, which shall know every man the plague of his own heart, and spread forth his hands toward this house, then hear thou in heaven thy dwelling-place."*

Which shall know every man the plague of his own heart." Ah! yes, there is a plague in every heart, different in each, yet incurable in all by merely human power. It is a great thing, often a terrible thing, when a man comes to the knowledge of what his plague really is. But whatever it be, he is welcome to take it to the Lord Jesus Christ, in the full assurance that he will cure it. There is balm in Gilead, there is a physician there. That remedy is sovereign for every form of malady of heart, and there are no hopeless cases in that physician's practice. The only incurables are those who persistently refuse to make application unto him. So as I think out the full significance of this sunset scene in the gospel story, the vision widens from Capernaum to the world, and still I see the blessed Redeemer exercising his divine and chosen vocation as the Spiritual Healer of humanity. From "every clime and coast" the sin-sick sons of Adam, "every man that knoweth the plague of his own heart," come to him-the guilty, the backsliding, the burdened, the forlorn, the tempted, the victims of evil habits, and the worn-out votaries of pleasure, and "he lays his hand on every one of them and healeth them." My hearers, at whose hearts a plague is aching, why should not you join the throng? With some of you the sun may be setting, in some of you the malady may be of the most violent sort, but no one of you yet is beyond

*I Kings viii. 38, 39

his help. Go then to him, and his touch of power will make you whole.

A

But, leaving this line of remark, I wish more especially to-night to direct your attention to the bearing of this narrative on one of the most interesting and successful methods of Christian effort both at home and abroad. few weeks ago, at a conference held in Chickering Hall, on the religious condition of this city, I was at once greatly surprised and deeply pained to hear one of the speakers make what I must call an unjustifiable attack on medical missions, and lest the sentiments which he expressed should spread among the church members of the city I have determined to devote the remainder of my present discourse to an explanation and defence. of this form of Christian aggressiveness, founded more especially on the passage which we have just been considering. The speaker to whom I have referred was alluding to the folly of bribing people to come to the house of God, by giving them food, and said a few strong and sensible things in reference to that to which I could heartily say, Amen. But when he put medical missions into the same category, he seemed to me to be very wide. of the mark, and when he used these words: "Medical missions, and flower missions, and soup kitchens and such things, in the wake of the church of Christ, are all right, but pushing them ahead and making them a bait, or an introduction to the human heart, I believe does not meet. with the divine sanction," ,"* and again, "I believe that as ministers of Christ we are making a mistake in thinking that anything can be even a temporary substitute for the gospel of Christ," he seemed to me to arraign the wisdom

See "Report of the Proceedings of the Chickering Hall Conference."

of the Lord Jesus Christ himself, and to be speaking in ignorance of the nature and purpose of the work which he so emphatically condemned. For, in the first place, what medical missionary ever thought of substituting his work among the sick for the gospel of Christ? On the contrary, the great design which he has in view is to secure an opportunity of presenting the gospel of Christ to those who otherwise would never come to hear it, and while some other methods of attempting to obtain such an opportunity may be open to question, may even be worthy of condemnation, the plan adopted by the medical missionary is a direct following of the example of the Lord Jesus as given in the narrative which has been to-night before us. For, in a very real sense, the open space befoe the door of Simon's house on that occasion was a great dispensary, in which the Saviour went through among the patients, and healed them all, thereby directing their attention to himself, accrediting his mission to them as divine, and disposing them to receive him as their Saviour from the deeper malady of sin.

Moreover, did not the Lord himself, when commissioning his twelve apostles, say to them, "As ye go, preach, saying, The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils; freely ye have received, freely give." True, he gave to these apostles the miraculous gift of healing, and that has now disappeared from the church, but in the healing art, as presently practised among us, we have a modern equivalent to miracles. For as Dr. Post of Beyrout said in his most eloquent address at the late London Conference, the cures effected by the surgeon are "miracles of science, and science is a miracle of Christianity." When,

* Matt. x. 7-8.

"Report of the Missionary Conference, London, 1888." Vol. I.

p. 385.