The Crown and the Cross: The Life of Christ

Home > Other > The Crown and the Cross: The Life of Christ > Page 12
The Crown and the Cross: The Life of Christ Page 12

by Frank G. Slaughter


  “Fill the waterpots with water,” Jesus told the servants.

  They were quickly filled but it was still water, having been poured from the very jars in which the women had brought it from the spring.

  “Draw some out now, and take it to the master of the feast,” He directed them.

  The servants obeyed Him, wondering what strange game this was where a man pretended that water was wine. He might convince Himself that it was wine, but the thirsty Galileans would raise an outcry the moment they tasted it and found only water. Customarily the first bowl of any new mixture was brought to the master in charge of the feast so that he could taste it and be sure it was of a quality to be served at so important a function. The master of the feast took the cup from his lips and nodded to the servants to go ahead and serve the wine.

  But there was a frown on his face as he went to find the bridegroom. “Every man at the beginning sets out the good wine,” he said severely, for it was bad to break a precedent. “When the guests have well drunk, then the inferior wine is served. But you have kept the good wine until now!”

  The bridegroom could not explain what had happened, but the servants knew and were not long in making the story known. Word quickly spread that He who had been known as a carpenter of Nazareth had accomplished the miracle of turning water into wine. The gaiety of the feast now was quickly replaced by fear, and being afraid, the people resented Him who was responsible for their uncertainty. By the time the feast ended, Jesus, who had sought only to keep shame from His kinsman, was being shunned by the crowd.

  What had been done at Cana that night, however, was soon noised abroad. There could be no going back now to the quiet life in Nazareth that Jesus had loved so much. From henceforth His sphere of activity was to be an ever-widening one, like the circular ripples that spread from the dropping of a stone into the center of a pool.

  Chapter 11

  And rose up and thrust Him out of the city; and they led Him to the brow of the hill on which their city was built, that they might throw Him down over the cliff.

  Luke 4:29

  Unlike John the Baptist, who had preached in a natural amphitheater under the trees at Bethabara, Jesus taught at first in the synagogues where the people gathered to worship God on the Sabbath and during the weekday services. In every town where any large number of Jews lived, some building or portion of it was set apart as a place of worship. Where a village was small and contained only a few devout Jews, worship services were held in a house. Everywhere, the internal arrangements were generally the same.

  The men sat on benches occupying the main floor of the building, while the women were restricted to a gallery protected by a wooden lattice. In the center of the main floor was a small elevated platform called the bima and upon it the desk or luach, from which the Law was read.

  Praying toward the east was forbidden by the Law, so the entrance to a synagogue was usually on the eastern side with the congregation facing away from this direction. The ark, a cabinet in which the scrolls of the Torah were kept, was usually against the south wall with the seats for the elders before it. Generally the gallery for the women was at the north end. Over the lintel of the door a carving usually ornamented the wood or stone of which the structure was built. Sometimes this was the traditional seven-branched candlestick, but an open flower set between two lambs of the Passover, bunches of grapes, vines, leaves, or occasionally a pot of manna such as the Children of Israel had fed upon in the wilderness could serve instead.

  According to the Law, no synagogue could be erected in a village unless there were ten batlanim, men who could spare the time to oversee the worship and administration. In practice there was usually no difficulty here, for attendance at worship was a privilege highly regarded by the Jews.

  On the evening before the Sabbath, each household prepared for the coming day of worship. The Sabbath lamp was lit and the best raiment put out to be worn on the morrow. The table was set with the best meal of the week and the qiddush or benediction spoken over a cup of wine liberally diluted with water, which was then drunk. On the Sabbath morning the devout hastened with quick steps to the house of worship, showing their eagerness to serve the Lord; by ancient usage the returning gait was always slow and lagging, expressing regret at leaving.

  Although the chazan was officially the leader of the congregation, the elders or rulers, called the zeqenim, were the most honored members. They also formed the local court or Sanhedrin, and were responsible to the Great Sanhedrin at Jerusalem in both religious and civil disputes.

  The Sabbath devotions were opened by chanting a series of prayers which began: “Blessed are You, O Lord, King of the world, who forms the light and creates the darkness, who makes peace and creates everything.” They ended with: “Blessed be the Lord who in love chose His people Israel.” Following this, the Shema, or creed, was recited. In it the worshiper willingly took upon himself the yoke of the kingdom of heaven and the yoke of the commandments. Other eulogies and benedictions followed with such special prayers as the season or occasion dictated.

  The liturgy finished, the chazan removed the roll of the Law from the ark where it was kept, and various persons chosen for the day read portions of it. Selections from the scroll of the prophets were also read, usually by the teacher who was to deliver the main address or sermon during the remainder of the worship period.

  Most of the congregation, especially in Galilee, neither spoke nor understood Hebrew well, so an interpreter known as the methurgeman, or more colloquially a dragoman, translated the words into the Aramaic language. He was not allowed to use a written translation, lest it become regarded as authoritative, but rendered the Hebrew into the common tongue at each service. Actually the members of the congregation were usually quite familiar with the passage being read, and the methurgeman gave the translations in a brief and almost synoptic form.

  When a popular rabbi was preaching, the synagogue was usually filled to overflowing. And since teachers customarily went from place to place for the purpose of giving the sermon, or derashah, the presence of a visiting rabbi was not at all uncommon. The rare simplicity of Jesus’ sermons had a wide appeal, and even before the miracle at Cana He was already well known as a teacher in Nazareth and the surrounding area. Neither interlarding His discourse with complicated references to details of the Law nor speaking condescendingly as did the Pharisees, He taught simply but clearly the lessons of man’s duty to God and how that duty should be discharged. Referring often to the ancient writings of the Jews, He drew new interpretations from them which were easily understood by everyone.

  In less than a day’s journey from His regular dwelling place in Nazareth, Jesus could easily reach most of the centers around Galilee where He spoke on the Sabbath. The six Galileans who had left John the Baptist to follow Him had gone back to their homes and their daily tasks after the wedding feast at Cana, so He was usually alone as He moved about. He had not performed any further miracles but His forthright preaching that “the time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel” found eager ears here just as when John had spoken much the same words in the wilderness at the fords of the Jordan.

  For a brief period after the miracle at Cana, there was no marked change in Jesus’ life or work. Then two things happened which considerably affected both. The first also occurred at Cana.

  II

  Herod Antipas was a rich man. Having inherited great wealth from his father, he had shrewdly invested much of it in lush vineyards and fields around the Sea of Galilee and among the rich valley lands beside the Jordan. He was fortunate in being served by many honest and capable men, not the least of whom was Chuza, his steward in the region around Capernaum. Conscientious, capable, and pious, Chuza managed to serve his master well and at the same time earn the respect of his fellows for his honesty and business acumen.

  Chuza had prospered,
too. He had a comfortable home overlooking the lake, wore fine clothes, and was respected as a nobleman in both the marketplace and the synagogue. His wife had servants to run the house; his young son was his favorite child. By all ordinary standards, Chuza was well favored, but when his son became ill, even Herod’s own physician was not able to help him. Soon it was apparent that the child would die unless a marked improvement in his condition quickly took place.

  Distraught, for he loved the boy dearly, Chuza did not know where to turn until an old serving woman came to him. “Master,” she said, “I have heard the fishermen talking of a Nazarene who performs miracles. If you went to Him, He might help the boy.”

  On any other occasion, Chuza would have scoffed at the rumor, for tales of miraculous cures were common in this region where so many of the afflicted flocked to the healing springs along the lake shore.

  “Was it a miracle of healing?” he asked.

  “He turned water to wine—at a wedding feast. The fisherman drank some himself and said it was better wine even than that purchased here in Galilee.”

  Chuza hesitated to dismiss the story. He had seen the trick performed by traveling magicians but he had never known them to offer others the wine they claimed to have produced. “Who was the fisherman?” he asked.

  “James, one of the sons of Zebedee.”

  Zebedee was a highly respected elder in the synagogue at Capernaum, and his sons were well known to Chuza. They would not be deceived by a magician’s trick or tell an idle story just for effect.

  “Where was this done?” he inquired.

  “In Cana. But the Teacher called Jesus is of Nazareth.”

  Chuza knew the town and, like Nathanael, he thought, “Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?” But he was also desperate and since it was not far, he determined to seek out this man called Jesus. Ordering a horse made ready he started at once but learned when he reached Nazareth that Jesus was at Cana. Hurrying on he inquired in the village and was directed to the home where Jesus was visiting.

  Chuza was disappointed by his first sight of the Nazarene. To him, Jesus looked no different from hundreds of men he saw every day in his travels about Galilee. His robe was of common cloth and the sandals on His feet had obviously been made in a village shop. Nevertheless, the nobleman had come this far and nothing was to be gained by not asking for help, even from such an unlikely source.

  “Come to Capernaum with me, Master, and heal my son,” he begged. “He lies at the point of death.”

  Jesus knew Chuza by reputation as a good man, in spite of the fact that he served an evil master. He was sure the reason the steward had come to Him for help was that he had heard of the miracle at the wedding feast. Yet compassionate as He always was for the sorrows of others, He could understand the concern of a father for his child.

  “Except you see signs and wonders you will not believe,” Jesus said quietly.

  In his anguish, Chuza did not understand. “Sir,” he begged again. “Come down to Capernaum before my child dies.”

  “Go your way,” Jesus told him then. “Your son lives.”

  Chuza could not believe the child had been healed by the simple words. His coming to Jesus had been an act of desperation, and he had really not expected anything from it. Sorrowfully, he mounted his horse and started on the return journey to Capernaum.

  He was hardly halfway home when he saw men riding toward him. As they came closer, he recognized two of his servants. Strangely enough their faces were joyful.

  “Your son lives!” one of them called out to him while still some distance away.

  The servants could tell the happy father only that the child had suddenly improved and his wife had sent them posthaste to find him, knowing he would want the news as quickly as possible. In his joy at learning that his son was safe, Chuza quite forgot his interview with Jesus until he was entering the outskirts of Capernaum. Then a thought came to him and he turned to the servants who rode behind him.

  “What hour was it when the boy began to improve?” he asked.

  “The seventh hour, master,” he was told. “The fever left him suddenly. Why do you ask?”

  Chuza did not answer. How could he explain to them that at just the seventh hour, the carpenter of Nazareth had said to him in Cana, “Go your way. Your son lives”?

  III

  With His fame as a teacher and a worker of miracles growing daily now, the time had come for Jesus to reveal His identity and the mission for which He had been sent to earth. Naturally He chose for this important announcement the synagogue at Nazareth. On the Sabbath following the healing of Chuza’s son, He entered the place of worship as usual and, when the time came for reading a passage from the writings of the prophets, He took up the scroll. Unrolling it, He began to read from the writings of Isaiah:

  “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”

  The reading finished, He calmly rolled up the scroll again and put it down. The listeners had heard the passage read many times before because scholars considered that it referred to the Messiah, whose coming Isaiah had so fervently predicted. And yet when Jesus spoke again, His words struck them like a bolt of lightning.

  “Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing,” He said loudly enough for His voice to be heard by those who were listening outside.

  The people of Nazareth had known Jesus as a good neighbor and a kind, patient, and deeply religious man who had taught their children, built their homes, carved plows for the farmers, and made furniture in His shop. A few had recognized a change in Him when He returned from Bethabara, but many others baptized by John had also changed, so this was in itself nothing unusual. There had been murmurings of amazement at the story of His turning water to wine at Cana and also when He had cured the son of Chuza in Capernaum. But when He did no miraculous things in Nazareth itself, the memory of those miracles was quickly forgotten.

  Because of Jesus’ eloquence and the simplicity of His teaching, the synagogue was filled every Sabbath that it was known He would speak, and today the congregation had spilled over into the yard. Some in Galilee had already named Him a prophet, but no one had been prepared for His dramatic announcement that He was the Anointed One whose coming Isaiah had predicted in the eloquent passage read to them that morning. If this were true, it was indeed a wondrous thing; but how could they be expected to believe it of one they had known first as a boy here in Nazareth and later as a skilled carpenter, the son of a carpenter, and the breadwinner for His family after His father’s death?

  Understandably, most of those who heard Jesus in Nazareth that morning found it impossible to believe He was the Messiah. And if He were not, then He was guilty in their eyes of blasphemy for naming Himself the Anointed One. Blasphemy was the one crime that could stir any devout Jew to anger, for the very act of blasphemy was a mortal affront to the Most High God. In the Books of the Law the penalty for the crime was death by stoning, the traditional method of execution for those guilty of the worst of crimes.

  Murmurs of anger were already beginning to rise when Jesus spoke again, but the very boldness of His address and His militant bearing kept even the hardiest among them from crying out the dread charge against Him inside the synagogue.

  “You will tell the physician to go heal himself,” He said to them. “You will ask why he does not do here in his own city what you hear he has done in Capernaum. Truly, I say to you, no prophet is accepted in his own country.”

  On these last words, Jesus’ voice had grown sad. But now it rang out challengingly. “But I tell you truly, many widows were in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years a
nd six months, and there was a great famine throughout all the land; but to none of them was Elijah sent except to Zarephath, in the region of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow. And many lepers were in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.”

  Familiar as the congregation was with the ancient stories from the history of Israel, this was more of an insult than they could stand. Naaman was not a Jew nor was the woman of Zarephath, yet because both of them had obeyed the commands of God as spoken through the prophets, they had received God’s favor. At the same time, as Jesus reminded the congregation, Jews had been denied that favor for themselves because they had not deserved it.

  The anger of the listeners had been welling up while Jesus talked. At the end of the service they surrounded Him as He left the building, shouting and gesticulating in a frenzy of indignation. When He made no move to justify Himself or retract anything He had said, He was seized and hustled from the yard of the synagogue by a mob of angry men.

  Up the winding pathway leading to the summit of the rocky crag jutting out above it the crowd dragged Jesus, pummeling and cursing Him all the way. People who had been His friends and neighbors yesterday spat upon Him now and called Him a blasphemer as He was dragged to the very brow of the crest. Nor was there any doubt about their intention to kill Him; the body of a man pushed or thrown from the crag would be broken and crushed on the rocks below.

  At the brow of the hill, however, even the angriest drew back, waiting for someone else to make the first move to shove Jesus over the brink. Bleeding from the many times He had been knocked to the ground, His robe torn and soiled, He faced His executioners calmly. Had He chosen to speak then, Jesus could have convinced them that He was innocent of blasphemy. The miracles at Cana and Capernaum, the fact that John the Baptist had publicly designated Him the Lamb of God, the circumstances surrounding His birth and flight into Egypt—all these would have supported His claim to be the Son of God.

 

‹ Prev