CHRIST AND MEN

I

THE CHILD AND THE EMPEROR

In which the Imperial Son of God is brought into contact with the most imperial of men; and thrones tremble at the beginning of the March toward the Golden Age.

Now it came to pass in those days, there went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus, that all the world should be enrolled. And Joseph went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judæa, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David; to enroll himself with Mary, who was betrothed to him, being great with child.

And it came to pass, while they were there, the days were fulfilled that she should be delivered.

And she brought forth her firstborn son; and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. LUKE ii, 1-7 (cf. MATT. ii, 1-18).

"It came to pass in those days," says Luke. The phrase is significant. Rome had overspread the world "in those days," and Cæsar was a name to juggle with. "In those days" there was no more open vision; the lights of the sanctuary were quenched and the sceptre had departed from Judah. "In those days" the cycle of the World Powers had been completed and the time was ripe for the fulfilment of Daniel's vision: "I saw by night, and behold, the

four winds of heaven strove upon the sea: and four beasts came up, diverse one from another. The first was like a lion and had eagle's wings. The second was like a bear; and they said unto it, Arise, devour much flesh! The third was like a leopard, having four heads; and dominion was given unto it. And, behold, the fourth beast was dreadful and terrible and strong exceedingly; it had iron teeth; it devoured and brake in pieces and stamped the residue of it."

The lion, the bear and the leopard had successively run their course in the rise and fall of Babylonia, Medo-Persia and Macedonia; and Rome, the nondescript fourth beast, was now in its climacteric of power. Let Daniel say what should follow: "I beheld till the beast was slain and his body destroyed. And behold the Ancient of Days did sit upon a throne like the fiery flame, and there was given him dominion and glory, and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations and languages should serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom for ever and ever.” (Dan. vii, 1-14.)

The fulness of time being come, God crosses the border into the territory of earthly power. The Incarnation is an invasion. A strange invasion! No trumpets are heard, no roar of artillery disturbs the quiet of the early morning. A mother sits crooning a lullaby to an Infant in her arms. This is the first note of the onset. What could be more helpless than the pink, dimpled hand that lies here on the mother's breast? Yet this hand is destined to cut the sinews of Roman supremacy and change the currents of history through all the coming ages.

Once and again this Child, during the thirty years

of the earthly sojourn, is destined to meet the Emperor face to face; and always with the same result. All subsequent history will be the record of the triumphant march of Immanuel toward his undisputed reign in the Golden Age.

The first approach of the two powers was at the massacre of Bethlehem. It is written that "Herod was troubled" when he heard of one "born King of the Jews." Well might he be troubled; old, feeble, bloody-minded, pursued by conscience, harried by the furies of a mislived past, this Idumean usurper, representing Cæsar's authority in Judea, was ill prepared to meet a new disturbance of his provincial rule. And his fear was well-grounded, since Jesus was really of the royal line. Had he known all the facts in the case he would have redoubled his efforts to destroy the Child. His birth was a far more ominous fact than Herod dreamed. Let Cæsar himself tremble! The song of the angels on the Judean hills is the trumpet call of a martial host arrayed against all powers of evil.

The incident at Bethlehem, however, was a mere preliminary skirmish. The murder of a score of children was an episode of slight consequence in the royal policies of those days. And it failed to accomplish its purpose; for "Joseph arose and took the young child and his mother by night and fled into Egypt."

The affair was shrewdly planned; but Herod reckoned without God. The futility of the bloody deed is set forth in two masterpieces of recent art. One of them is Holman Hunt's "Triumph of the Innocents," in which Joseph and the Virgin Mother and her Child are represented on their way to Egypt, followed by the

spirits of the slain innocents, one of whom carries a golden censer, while others come trooping after with palm branches. These are the vanguard of that noble army of martyrs who ever since have "followed in his train."

The other picture is "The Repose in Egypt," by Gérome. It represents the dull-eyed, wondering Sphinx, on the verge of the desert, between the world. without hope and the world of progress. It is night. In the arms of the great image the mother reposes with the Child on her bosom; and from his face there radiates a light which penetrates the darkness of the surrounding wastes.

It was indeed a memorable flight; the first strategic move in the long campaign of centuries. It was a retreat preparatory to an advance all along the line.

We shall not see the Child and the Emperor face to face again until the former has grown to manhood. His ministry is now under way. He has gone up and down among the villages preaching, working wonders, troubling the corrupt times. His name is on every lip. He enters Jerusalem at length and begins to preach. Herod, desirous of making an end to his influence, presumes to threaten him. His underlings come to Jesus, saying, "Get thee out and depart hence, for Herod will kill thee!" But Jesus sees through the shallow device of the intriguing court. Observe his calm disdain: "Go tell that fox, Behold, I cast out devils and do cures to-day and to-morrow, and the

1 This is not the Herod of the massacre, but Herod Antipas, another of a smaller mould, who has been characterized by a distinguished historian as "the meanest thing the world ever saw."