Four simple men were used by God to record the history of One who called Himself the Son of Man, who walked familiarly among men, eating and drinking, and conversing with them. They tell their story in plain, straightforward language, each in his own style, scarcely commenting on what is recorded, but writing as those who narrate what they saw, and tell what they heard.
No one suggests that they have been in collusion. There are too many marks of diversity to allow that theory; yet it is the same Divine Person who is depicted, who speaks in the same marvellous way. It is impossible to conceive that four ordinary men, writing separately, could each have invented such a perfect Character or could have put such words into His lips.
Matthew, the publican; Mark, the servant; Luke, the physician; and John, the fisherman, record for us in a candid and open manner the words of Him who spake as “never man spake.”
The words themselves, as recorded, are comparatively few. We have no long dissertations, no elaborate treatises. The longest discourse takes but fifteen minutes to read aloud. The whole of His words could, I suppose, be printed in a pamphlet of sixteen pages, and yet those words are such that they have astounded the whole world, and established His reputation. “The same is a Perfect Man.” More than this, “Truly this was the Son of God.”
There is no spot or blemish in them, no confession of sin, no mistake, no uncertainty, no hesitation. Such terms as “Perhaps,” “I think,” “It is possibly so,” or other evidence of fallibility is indiscoverable. All is authoritative, calm, and decisive. He spoke as one having authority: “I say unto you.”
The style is perfect. Not a vestige appears of sentimentality, no weak emotion, no plea for pity, no mock heroics, no posing for effect, no lightness or trifling, no irritation or hastiness. There is no dead fly in the ointment to mar His reputation for wisdom.
These four writers hold up for admiration nothing that the world gloried in. It is doubtful if they had any intention or thought of depicting a hero or great man–they told a simple story of One whom they had seen and loved, and whose words had reached their hearts.
Let us take the collection of His words in our hands and look at it. We need not be enthusiasts or devotees, we need bring no prejudice, nor look at it through colored glasses. It bears examination. It seems to say to all: “I speak as to wise men, judge ye what I say” (1 Cor. 10:15). Let us judge this unique Volume first from the lowest of men’s standards.
His Words as Ordinary Literature
We discover at once that here is narration unequalled in the world. Read the parable of the Prodigal Son. It has attained worldwide fame. Note its simple pathos, its powerful appeal to the heart. Tears of thousands have been shed on the pages. It has turned untold sinners to a new life. In order to test its excellence by comparison, search through all the great writers of the world for something to compare with it for simplicity, dignity, and excellence.
In the Greek it contains but 396 words, not one of which could be spared as mere verbiage. Can Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, Schiller, Goethe, or the more homely Longfellow, and Wordsworth, or any of our prose authors supply anything to compete with it?
But the same gracious lips told the story of the Lost Sheep, the Good Samaritan; the parable of the Sower; the Publican and the Pharisee; the Great Supper for the poor, blind, and lame; the Ten Virgins; and the Rich Man and Lazarus. Where in all the field of literature shall we find anything to compare with, much more to surpass, these masterpieces of literary art?
Who is this that at once steps above all the world’s greatest writers, to be acknowledged superior to them all? Surely judged by this lowest of standards, “never man spake like this Man. ”
The supreme excellence of true art is strength, beauty, and simplicity. It is recorded that once Leonardo da Vinci visited a young artist friend. He found his friend was absent, but on the easel in his studio there was an untouched canvas ready for use. Leonardo took up a chalk, and with one sweep of the hand drew a circle on the canvas. On his return, the young artist at once exclaimed, “Leonardo has been here!” No one else could have drawn that simple but perfect figure.
It is so with Christ. The dignity and grace, the power and truth of the stories He told cause one to exclaim, “The Lord has been here,” for “never man spake as this Man.”
Now let us judge the words that fell from His lips by another standard.
The Moral Excellence of His Words
There have been many moralists in the world, and many codes of honor, and much sound advice as to conduct. Good moral teaching has been the common property of the sages of the past, but which of them can compare with the exalted wisdom and heart-searching purity of the Sermon on the Mount?
The ideals that have been held up to men for their admiration and emulation are quietly set aside. The warrior in shining armor gives place to the blessedness of the gentle, the merciful, to the love of enemies and a desire to do them good. The accumulation of wealth is rebuked as not representing truly that in which a man’s life consists, rather it is in giving and lending, while no return is looked for. The Heavenly Father will supply the present need and the reward will be in Heaven, with not even “the cup of cold water” forgotten.
The pride and show of religious display and love of applause are rebuked. Prayer, fasting, giving are only means to an end, and that end not self, but a walk of communion with God, and loving thought for others.
The searching demand for purity that is of the heart, that governs even the restless eyes; and the love that regards hatred as murder; the truth that makes the “Yea, yea,” and the “Nay, nay,” and needs no oath to strengthen it; the obedience that hears and does, and thus builds the life on a foundation of rock. Such is the exalted morality that places the words of Christ out of reach of any competitor, and causes us still to exclaim, “He taught as One having authority!”
Think, too, of their sympathy and encouragement. Again we must exclaim, “Never man spake as this Man.” Moralists are confessedly stern men, hard in their words and harsh in their judgments, often cynical and satirical in their criticisms of their times. But this Man, though His words are often weighty in their burden (see for example Mt. 23, with its eight “Woes”), He was never accused of being cold, harsh, or unfeeling. Even the chapter of “Woes” ends with tender words of compassion: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem,…how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!” (Mt. 23:37).
The common people heard Him gladly, and marvelled at His gracious words. Sinners wept at His feet, and the brokenhearted were comforted and their wounds bound up. Did ever man speak to sinners as He? “Thy sins be forgiven,” “Go in peace,” yet with no laxity of morals. “Go, and sin no more.”
But we have to recognize in this Volume of His words greater marvels than those. It is impossible to close our eyes to the fact that in His words we find the most stupendous claims and a self-assertion that is beyond anything in knowledge or experience.
He Preached Himself
He claimed Himself to be the Salvation He came to bring. His use of the words “I AM” was equivalent to the assumption of Deity. It identified Him with Jehovah who appeared in the burning bush–the “I Am that I Am”–and called forth the wrath of the Pharisees, who accused Him of “making Himself equal with God” (Jn. 5:18), a charge which He did not refute, but confirmed by the words, “All men should honor the Son, even as they honor the Father” (Jn. 5:23).
The Jews knew and loved Psalm 23 dearly, as any Christian does. “Jehovah is my Shepherd.” What then must have been their feelings when they heard this Man say, “I am the Good Shepherd” (Jn. 10:11)? They knew that this involved a claim to be Jehovah.
The “I AM” was constantly on His lips. “Before Abraham was, I AM” (Jn. 8:58). “When ye have lifted up the Son of Man then shall ye know that I AM” (John 8:28). “If ye believe not that I AM, ye shall die in your sins” (Jn. 8:24). Perhaps the most remarkable use of the words was in the Garden of Gethsemane, when they came to take Him. “Whom seek ye? And they said, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus said unto them, I AM. As soon then as He had said unto them I AM, they went backwards and fell to the ground” (Jn. 18:5-6). The majesty of His word overpowered them.
His Claim as Saviour: As we ponder the words before our eyes, we can only exclaim with Simeon, “Mine eyes have seen Thy salvation” (Lk. 2:30). Is a sinner seeking access to God? He says, “I am the Door, by Me if any man enter in, he shall be saved” (Jn. 10:9). Is a hungry soul longing for satisfaction? He says, “I am that Bread of Life” (Jn. 6:48). Does one long to know his way Home through the darkness? He says, “I am the Light of the world” (Jn. 8:12).
Is one troubled with the confusion of voices in this Babylon with its higher critics, its philosophers, its modernists? He quiets the strife with the word, “I am the Truth.” Does one long for nourishment for the soul that shall produce fruit in the life? He says, “I am the True Vine, ye are the branches” (Jn. 15:1). Does one want assurance? He says, “I am the Good Shepherd…” My sheep.. “shall never perish” (Jn. 10:14, 28).
Do men tremble by the open grave? Then hear His words, matchless above all that even He spoke, “I am the Resurrection and the Life, he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live” (Jn. 11:25).
For any other to use such language was to expose himself to ridicule. Yet “this Man” used the words with authority and undiminished dignity and grace.
His Claim as the Great Rest-Giver: Did ever man use such words as these? “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Mt. 11:28). Many teachers in the past have exhorted men to take their advice; to carry out their laws; even to follow their example; but who among the sons of men ever said, “Come unto Me, and I will give (not teach merely) you rest”?
A Christian distributing tracts in France gave a text on a card to a gentleman, who read it curiously. It had upon it the words, “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” There was no indication who had said those words, and the reader showed some surprise that he should be invited by a stranger in such terms. Looking at him earnestly, he said, “Well, here I am!” What a dilemma to be in! Who can give another rest? It took some time to explain Who it was that could give men such an invitation, for no man spake like this Man.
His Claim to Deity: He answers prayer. “If ye shall ask anything [of the Father] in My Name, I will do it” (Jn. 14:14). Who is this whose Name is so powerful and who Himself answers prayer: “I will do it”?
He Claims to Raise and Judge All Men: “Many shall say to Me in that day, Lord, Lord” (Mt. 7:22). Who would dare to speak thus? Or, “The hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation” (Jn. 5:28-29).
He Claims Life Itself: Think of this worldwide demand: “If any man come to Me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple” (Lk. 14:26). Who is entitled to make such a claim as this? Never man spake like this!
We can not only wonder at the claim, but at the greater wonder that, down through the ages, millions have accorded it to Him, for never has man been so loved as this Man, never have life and possessions been so willingly sacrificed for other, as for His sake. Truly this is the Son of God.
And sweetest of all words to His own, “this Man” who ever liveth, has said, “I will come again and receive you unto Myself.”
“Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”