Jesus goes up privately to Jerusalem

II: Jesus goes up privately to Jerusalem

John vii. 1-10; Luke ix. 51-62; Matt. Viii. 19-22.

Autumn had come upon the land, and in every direction caravans were forming for the journey Jerusalemward, for it was a season for the Feast of the Tabernacles,1 the gladdest of all Israel's solemnity is.  As it was instituted to be a memorial of their march through the wilderness, it lasted seven days, and during that time the whole people lived under leafy shelters, woven are Bowers, just as their fathers had sojourned in tents.

The olive, the pine, the myrtle, and the palm trees were now stripped of their branches; little pavilions of green foliage were raised all along the streets, through the squares, upon the level house tops, and above the city ramparts; and for the space of one week Jerusalem bore much the appearance of a forest of verdure.  On all sides there was nothing to be heard but songs of joy answering the glare of trumpets which re-echoed from the terraces of the Temple, and every Jew, in token of rejoicing, bore either a branch of palm or some other fresh bough, laden with citrons or peaches, or any rich fruitage of the season.  Again it was the more heartfelt and real, because their great Day of Expiation immediately preceded the Feast of the Tabernacles, and consequently they considered themselves purified and freed from sin.

This Feast of expiation took place five days before the solemnity of the Tabernacles.  The whole people fasted on that day, and among the sacrifices the High-Priest offered two he-goats; one of these, as being burdened with the sins of Israel, was driven forth into the desert.

The kinsfolk of the Lord were on the eve of their departure from Capharnaum, to go up to this solemnity.  Some of their household bethought themselves to seek Him out; with thoughts and views of Him just as low and as grovelling as when formerly they treated Him like a madman, so now they had nothing but complaints and reproaches upon their lips.

"Why so much mystery; why keep himself concealed in this way, so discouraging to his would-be partisans?  How many Jews about Jerusalem were ready to receive him well, from the first, if he had only been willing to make himself plainly understood!"

"Leave this place," was the family-advice, "and go into Judaea, so that your disciples may see the works which you do; for nobody does his actions in secret, when he wishes to show himself in public; since you are doing these things, manifest yourself to the world."

Such words as these were only another justification of the Evangelist's sad reflection: "Even His brethren did not believe in Him."

Jesus showed no surprise.

"My time is not come as yet," He said, quietly; "but your time is always ready, for the world cannot hate you; but Me it hates, because I bear witness that its works are evil.  Do you go up to this feast; as for Me, I do not now go thither because My time is not yet accomplished."

There was good reason for the Lord’s speaking so obscurely, since it was important that Jerusalem should be unaware of His approaching visit: the Sanhedrin would certainly have profited by the interval to arouse the populace and prepare a some pitfall against Is coming.  So He left His kindred to depart without Him, and while the caravans were filling the routes which keep along the highway of the Jordan, He with His Apostles turned aside toward Samaria, taking that road up to the Holy City.

His farewell was a sorrowful one, for He was taking leave of the Galilee He loved to go to Jerusalem, where only ingratitude and persecution awaited Him.  All this Jesus knew beforehand; evermore His gaze rested on the last six months of His Ministry as they stretched out interminably before His eyes: His departure from this world, and the tomb.  Wherefore (to use Saint Luke's expression), "He steadfastly set His face to go up to Jerusalem."

Following the road across the plain of Esdralon, thy reached the hill country which forms the northern frontier of Samaria.  At its base lies the little town of En-Gannim, "The Fountain of the Gardens." It was the first Samaritan Village they encountered; and Jesus sent some of His disciples on ahead to prepare lodgings for them.  James and John, charged with this duty, set out confidently enough; for remembering the crowds which hastened to meet Jesus at Jacob's Well they promised themselves a kindly welcome.  But while Israel's festivals were going on, the animosity of the Samaritans knew no bounds; now "inasmuch as the travellers had turned their faces towards Jerusalem," every door was closed against them, and they returned without having found either shelter or food.  Their indignation was intense; like true "Sons of the Thunder" their first thought was to call down vengeance from on high.

"Lord," they exclaimed, "would you have us bring fire come down from Heaven and consume them, even as did Elias?"

They forgot that Heaven has other powers besides thunder in its gift, and gives lights much oftener than it lightens; so was it to be under the new reign of Jesus, when zeal and charity alone would inflame the heart of man.

Looking at His disciples, the Master answered them:

" You do not know of what spirit you are; the Son of Man is not come to destroy souls, but to save them." And without blaming these people for having spurned them, He passed on to another hamlet.

As they walked along the highway a Scribe came forward, touched by what he had overheard of the talk.

"Master," he said, "I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest."

The Lord took no heed either of the words or of the rank of the one accosting Him; far down in this man's heart he beheld an overmastering attachment to the good things of birth; He knew that his inconsiderate fervour would fail him at the first foretaste of the poverty of Jesus, and therefore He answered:—

"The foxes have their holes, the birds of the air of their nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay the His Head."

The thought of following a homeless Master cast a chill over the Scribe's courage, and he dropped back and disappeared.

That same day and upon the same high road the Saviour passed before a house of mourning: the son was weeping over the death of his father.  Looking up he too knew the Presence of the Master, and felt himself drawn to leave all and follow Him.  So too Jesus red his heart; then, as quick and ready to help the weak as He was prompt in repressing the presumptuous, He stepped towards him.

"Follow Me!" He said.

Surprised at so sudden an appeal the son hesitated, and asked that he might at least be allowed to bury his father.  But the Saviour, seeing that any delay, even the most legitimate, would destroy all resolution in this wavering soul, caught him away in His company, with that saying which so many Saints have repeated since, when breaking away from all dearest ties of affection,—

"Leave the dead to bury their dead; but do you go and announced the Kingdom of God!"

One other disciple, called in like manner, also wanted to linger and bide his time.

"Lord," he began, "I will follow you, but first allow me to take farewell of my kindred."

"Whoever," was the reply of Jesus, "puts his hand to the plough and looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God."

The zeal of the true Apostle must rise to that height of perfection which makes, not a step only, but even one single backward glance impossible.

And this is all the Gospel tells us of their journey across the hills of Samaria.  Jesus walked still more privately and quietly the nearer they approached the Holy City, and thus they found their way within its walls without anyone having recognized Him, or even so much as suspecting His presence.

Totus tuus ego sum 

Et omnia mea tua sunt;

Tecum semper tutus sum:
Ad Jesum per Mariam