No one must keep the children from Him, and no one must hinder His coming Passion. Only when the disciples did these things was their Master angry with them. He was patient with their dulness—and, oh! they were dull—and with their many faults. He had taught them to be kind and forgiving. But when a Samaritan city refused Him a passage through, because He was going to Jerusalem, James and John, filled with indignation, said:
"Lord, wilt Thou that we command fire from Heaven to come down and consume them?"
"You know not of what spirit you are," He answered quietly; "the Son of Man came not to destroy souls but to save."

People who did not do as they did were sure to be in the wrong. "Master," said John to Him, "we saw one casting out devils in Thy Name who followeth not us, and we forbade him." " Do not forbid him," Jesus answered; "he that is not against you is for you." He had been telling the Twelve to try to gain by gentleness a brother who might have offended them.
"How often shall my brother offend against me and I forgive him? till seven times?" said Peter, thinking this a great stretch of generosity. "I say not to thee till seven times," Jesus answered, " but till seventy times seven times."

One day a young man came running up to Jesus, and, kneeling before Him, said: "Good Master, what shall I do that I may receive life everlasting ?" Our Lord told him that he must keep the Commandments. "All these have I kept from my youth: what is yet wanting to me?" he said, and looked up with innocent eyes into the face of Jesus. He spoke truly, his soul was beautiful in the sight of God. And Jesus looking on Him loved him and said to him:
"One thing is wanting to thee; if thou wilt be perfect, go sell all whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in Heaven, and come, follow Me." When the young man heard this he went away sad, for he had great possessions. And Jesus, seeing him become sad, looking round about, said to His disciples:

"Children, how hard it is for them that trust in riches to enter into the Kingdom of God. It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of God." Then Peter answering, said to Him: "Behold, we have left all things and have followed Thee: what therefore shall we have?" Instead of reproving this fisherman for talking about leaving all things, Jesus said to him:

"Amen, I say to you, that you who have followed Me, when the Son of Man shall sit on the seat of His majesty, you also shall sit on twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel." Perhaps it was this promise of thrones that made James and John ask a little later for the first place in the Kingdom that was coming. Our Lord was not angry with them, but wonderfully indulgent and patient.

He saw that the faults of His Apostles were on the surface only, so much on the surface, indeed, that they were very visible. But their hearts were right. They were simple and straightforward, having no secrets from Him, coming out with all that they felt without caring whether it might meet with a reproof. And when He did reprove, they were docile and saw their fault, and were sorry and began to try again. There was no sulking, no keeping away from Him after a rebuke. And often there was something good and generous even in their failures. If James and John were hard upon the Samaritan city, it was because they could not bear to see their Master treated with disrespect. If they asked for the first places in His Kingdom, it was that they might be near Him. And if Peter inquired whether he should forgive seven times, it was from the fear that such generosity might perhaps be excessive. They spoke of having left all for Christ because they had left willingly the little they had, and would have left palaces and all the wealth of this world had it been theirs.

Dear Apostles of our Lord! with all their shortcomings, how delightful they are, how charming in their simplicity and in the devotedness of their rough, tender hearts. We could not spare one single word they say, one act of loving ambition, or faulty zeal. But for them we should never have known our Blessed Saviour as we do. It is encouraging to find that in
spite of His teaching and blessed example always before their eyes, they remained for a long time so imperfect. It helps us to see them struggling with the same passions we have to fight, and falling again and again into the same faults.

One, one only among His Twelve disappointed the Master and lay like a dead weight on His Heart, that one on whom all His teaching and deeds of mercy and of power were thrown away, who hardened himself more and more now that the prospects of an earthly kingdom
seemed to be vanishing. Judas remained indeed in the little company and followed his Master still, but in body only. He had long since ceased to care for Him who had called him. His life was all pretense; his prayers with the others, his teaching of the people, his conversations with our Lord when he was obliged to speak—all this was acting. We never find him asking questions like the rest when their Master was instructing them. He did not care to learn, for he did not mean to improve. There was only one thing he really cared for now, and that was—money. Little by little he had let this love of money take possession of him, till at last all his thought was to get it, no matter how. He had charge of the purse which contained the alms given for the support of our Lord and the Apostles, and the poor. He began to steal from this purse. The first time his conscience reproached him terribly and made him very unhappy. He was afraid, too, that our Lord, who of course knew of his theft, might reprove him for it before his fellow-Apostles. But as time went on and his Master said nothing, at least in public, he grew bolder and took more and more. Jesus loved him tenderly still. He had called him to be an Apostle because He loved him and saw in his soul what pleased Him, and He warned him again and again to beware of the covetousness which like poison was killing all the good that was there. He kept him in His company, He treated him like the rest, sent him out to preach, gave him power to cast out devils and to cure, spoke to him kindly, tried to win him—but all in vain. The agony He felt at the gradual falling away of the poor, miserable Apostle comes out when He speaks of His coming Passion. He mentions a few only of the sufferings that were in store for Him, the sharpest, and chiefly the pains of the soul—mocking, spitting, betrayal. This last was the worst. He could bear insult and cruelty from the Gentiles who knew Him not, but betrayal from one of His own ! Oh, the anguish there is in those words at the Last Supper:
"Amen, I say to you, one of you shall betray Me!"

Our Lord was praying one day whilst His disciples stood at a little distance watching Him. They never tired of seeing Him at prayer. His stillness, His profound reverence, the fervour of soul that appeared on His countenance filled them with admiration and the desire to pray like Him. This day one of them said when His prayer was finished:
"Lord, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples."

The Prophets had taught them; the rabbis had taught them. Their prayers began with one or other of the Names by which God was known to the Jews: "the Strong One," "the Adorable," "the great Lord," "the God of Hosts," "the Most High," "the Almighty." One Name out of reverence they might never pronounce-- Jehovah, " He who is and will be." How will their Master have them speak to God ? by what dread Name must they call Him? See them gather round Him, eager, reverent. Watch their faces as He makes answer:
"When you pray say : Father, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy Kingdom come; give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our sins as we also forgive our debtors; and lead us not into temptation."  What a surprise, what a relief! No terrible Name, but "Father." They may speak to the God who made them as children to the most loving of fathers, and ask, not for great things only, but for little things, for the least things, for everything. They remember how long ago He said to them: "Thus, therefore shall you pray: Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name; Thy Kingdom come; Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven." It was a little shorter now, but the same prayer. " Father, Our Father " the prayer for all. He makes no exception; the poorest, then, the most ignorant, the most guilty have a right to look up and say: "Our Father who art in Heaven." Yes, there is nothing our Lord has more at heart than this—to see us go to our Heavenly Father with great confidence and ask again and again for all we want, persisting if we do not obtain at once. To show how we should persist, He told the people a parable of a man who goes at midnight to his friend and says to him: "Friend, lend me three loaves, for a friend of mine has come off his journey and I have nothing to set before him." He from within answers: "Trouble me not, the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed, I cannot rise and give thee." "Yet," our Lord goes on, " if he shall continue knocking, I say unto you, although he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise, and give him as many as he needeth. And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you." We are to knock again and again, and louder and louder by persevering prayer till at last the door is opened. Any other friend would be annoyed at such persistence, but God loves it and delights to reward it, as He rewarded the perseverance of the Canaanite.

And here we may notice in passing what beautiful prayers, prayers we can all feel and say, prayers of sinners and needy ones like ourselves, the Gospel gives us:
"Lord, help me!" "Lord, if Thou wilt Thou canst make me clean." "Lord, save me, I perish!" "O
God, be merciful to me, a sinner !" It was about this time that our Lord chose seventy-two of His disciples and sent them two and two to preach. It was now, too, that He spoke that most beautiful parable of the Prodigal Son, to encourage all who have wandered from their Father's Home to return to the open arms and the welcome that await them there.

A certain man had two sons, and the younger of them said to his father: "Give me the portion of substance that falleth to me." He had all he needed to make him happy in that home of his—all but the spirit of contentment and gratitude. But, wanting these, he wanted everything. He was restless and dissatisfied. He thought he would be happier away from his father's eye, in some far off country where he would be his own master and could do just as he liked—no rules, no duties, no reminders, nothing but pleasure all day and all night, a good time always. His share of his father's wealth would have come to him on the old man's death, but he could not wait. So he went to his father and said: "Give me now what I shall have when you die." There was no reproach at the heartless words; the father divided all he had between his sons; and, not many days after, the younger,  gathering all together, left home and set out for the far country. Many places that he passed on his way looked bright and tempting, but they were too near home; his father might come to hear of him and try to get him back. At last he was far enough. From the gay city here no news of him would ever reach his home. So he settled down and soon found himself surrounded by a number of young fellows, only too glad to make friends with a rich stranger, and be treated at his expense.

All went merrily for a while—as long as the money lasted. Then came a change. One by one his new friends left him, famine brought distress upon the country, and he began to be in want—the spoilt child of that wealthy home, in want! He hired himself to a man who sent him into his farm to feed swine. There, day after day he sat among them, cold, hungry, friendless, coveting the husks they ate. Then in the misery of his need came the memory of his home and of the plenty there:
"How many servants in my father's house abound with bread?" he said to himself, "and I here perish with hunger."
He thought of his wilfulness and ingratitude, and —oh, well for him that it was so! of the goodness of his father's heart. "I will arise," he said, " and will go to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before thee; I am not now worthy to be called thy son, make me as one of thy hired servants." To be back again under the old roof and earn his bread there as a hired servant was more than he deserved, but he would ask it of his father's charity. And he arose and set out on his way home. There was weariness to be faced, for the way was long. There was shame, too, as he drew near the old, familiar places. But no one knew him no one recognized in the ragged, miserable boy, starved and ill, the sprightly young fellow who had turned his back on home and gone far away and been lost sight of. No one ? Yes, there was one who knew him, one who had never lost sight of him, who had watched for him daily, who was watching now. When he was yet a great way off his father saw him and was moved with compassion, and, running to him, fell upon his neck and kissed him. The poor boy fell on his knees, and, covering his face with his hands, sobbed out:
"Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before thee, I am not now worthy to be called thy son."
No more; for his father's kiss had sealed his lips, and his father's arms were round him. And the servants were bidden to make haste lest any should see him in his disgrace—make haste to clothe him once more as a son, and put a ring on his hand and shoes on his poor, blistered feet, and prepare a feast with music and dancing that they might make merry and be glad because he had been dead and was come to life again, he had been lost and was found.

Perhaps we think God Himself could hardly be kinder than the father of the prodigal ? Our Lord did not think so; He knew He is much kinder, for after all the father did not go out into the far country to look for his son and bring him back. Yet this is what God has done for us. He has come all the way from Heaven into this world to seek us, and, when we are sorry for our sins and want to be better, it is the voice of God our Father calling us back to Him. 

So our Lord made another parable of a good shepherd who left his ninety-nine obedient sheep to go after one that had strayed away from the fold and got lost in the mountains, where wild beasts live and prowl about at night in search of such foolish wanderers. The good shepherd goes after his sheep in the cold wind and the darkness and the rain, not minding his bleeding feet, cut by the sharp stones of the way. He gets upon a little height, and stands, and listens! And, when at last he hears its far off bleating cry, he hastens to where, over the side of the precipice, it stands on a narrow ledge, ready to fall into the depths below and be dashed to pieces. At the risk of his life he leans over and lifts it up and sets it in safety by his side. He does not beat, or scold it, or drive it back to the fold, but speaks to it tenderly, and strokes it, and lifts it on his shoulder rejoicing, and so carries it home, and, when he gets back to the fold, calls together his friends and neighbours, saying:
"Rejoice with me because I have found my sheep that was lost."
"I am the Good Shepherd," said our Lord, " and I lay down My life for My sheep." When He told this story the day was drawing near when He was going to give His life for His sheep. He was always thinking of that day and longing for it, because by His cruel death we, whom He loved so dearly, were to be saved.

A printable file of this chapter as well as a coloring picture are below.

In spite of all our Lord could do and say, the minds of the Apostles were still full of the coming Kingdom and of the first places there. Whether it was the favour shown to the three who had been taken into the room of Jairus' little daughter when the rest were left outside, and had been with the Master on the Mount, where it was plain they had seen something wonderful and heard some secret which they would not tell the nine; or whether the great promise made to Peter after his confession at Csesarea Philippi had aroused jealousy among the others, there was a dispute among the Twelve at this time as to which of them was the greatest.

Andrew was the first called; James and John were cousins, or, in Jewish language, "brothers " of the Lord; and John was plainly His best beloved. On the other hand, Peter was the most noticed by the Master and was the Rock; Judas came from the south, and spoke the best, and was better off than the rest. Which of them, then, was the greatest? This was the kind of talk among them as they walked one day behind our Lord on the way to Capharnaum. When they came to the house He said quietly:

"What did you speak of in the way ?"

"But they held their peace," says St. Mark, "for in the way they had disputed among themselves which of them should be the greatest." At length one bolder than the rest answered the Master's question after a fashion by putting another:

"Who, thinkest Thou, is the greater in the Kingdom of Heaven?" It shows their confidence in our Blessed Lord, and their habit of taking all difficulties to Him, that ashamed as they were of being caught in this dispute, they yet appealed to Him to settle it and to satisfy their curiosity. Our Lord sat down and made them all come round Him. A little child happened to be near. Jesus called him, and, when He had embraced him, He set him in the midst. See the Twelve looking at the child, wondering what was coming and why he was put there.

See the child looking round innocently at them all, standing there at our Lord's knee because he was bid, asking no questions. And Jesus said to them:

"Amen, I say to you unless you be converted and become as little children you shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, he is the greater in the Kingdom of Heaven." What a surprise! They had been disputing about the first place, and He threatens them with not getting in at all unless they change.

Our Blessed Lord goes on to speak of the preciousness of these little ones in the sight of God, of the reward those will have who do them good, and of the terrible punishment those deserve who teach them what is wrong, or neglect or harm them in any way:

"He that shall receive one such little child in My Name receiveth Me. But he that shall scandalize one of these little ones that believe in Me, it were better for him that a millstone should be hanged about his neck and that he should be drowned in the depth of the sea. See that you despise not one of these little ones, for I say to you that their Angels in Heaven always see the face of My Father who is in Heaven."

We must not think that these solemn promises and threats are for grown up people only. They are for children too. Children help or harm one another very much. Wherever they meet—in the playground, in the street, in church, at school, at home, they are doing good or doing mischief, pleasing or displeasing the Good Angels of their brothers, or sisters, or companions.

The Holy Angels watch with the greatest care over the little ones entrusted to them. Happy those who make friends of these blessed spirits by helping their little charges. But woe to any who by word or example harm a little child. Its powerful friend and protector who stands always in the Presence of God will accuse them there.

Children are very dear to our Blessed Lord, and He loves to see them near Him. He was resting one day when some Jewish mothers, who had watched their opportunity, brought a whole flock of little ones, infants in arms many of them, that He might touch them and lay His hands on them and pray.

The Apostles were not at all kind to the visitors and went about rebuking both mothers and children:

"Get away, children," they said, " the Master is tired and cannot do with you. They had soon forgotten the lesson He had given them at Capharnaum and the small teacher He had set over them there. They thought, no doubt, that to be worthy of their Master's attention, all should be important people like themselves. He had to teach them for the second time that they must become like children if they were to be near and dear to Him. A child is—or ought to be—simple and innocent, content to be little, to depend on others, to obey. This is why he is great in God's sight and worthy to be set as an example even to Apostles. Jesus, seeing the children being driven away, was much displeased and said to the Twelve:

"Suffer the little children to come unto Me and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of God."

From these words we see that the children were eager to come to Him, and were not simply brought by others. How gentle and inviting must have been His look, that encouraged the little troop to make their way up to Him in spite of the rough ways and words of the Twelve! They clustered round His knees. They held out their arms to be taken into His. They cried out "me ! me !" as they saw first one and then another folded in His embrace. They prattled round Him. They nestled on His breast. They took His hand and held it fast. Happy little children, who shall tell the graces that came to them that day from their Saviour's blessing and caress.

A printable file of this chapter as well as a coloring picture are below.

In the north of Palestine at the foot of snowy Hermon stood the magnificent city of Caesarea Philippi. Philip, the tetrarch, had enlarged and beautified it and called it Caesarea, in honour of Tiberias Caesar. Philippi, from Philip, was added to distinguish it from another Caesarea on the coast. The city is interesting to us, not for its heathen memories, but for the presence of Christ our Lord in its neighborhood, and for the events that took place there one memorable day.

It was now about ten months before the Passion, and the Apostles had been in the company of our Blessed Lord for nearly three years. During those years their knowledge of Him had been gradually growing. At the time of their call it was very imperfect indeed, and even later, when, from His teaching and wonderful works, they had come to acknowledge Him as the Messiah, their belief as to who He was remained very vague. Like the rest of their nation they knew that the Messiah was to be a great Deliverer; they did not clearly understand that He would be God. And by minding only the glorious things foretold of Him by the Prophets, they had lost sight of the prophecy that He would be a Man of Sorrows.

It was time for our Lord to test the faith of the Twelve, to prepare them for His coming Passion and Death, and to lay the foundations of that Church by which men were to be brought to the knowledge of Him and of what they must do to save their souls. All this was to be done at Caesarea Philippi. What wonder that on the morning of the eventful day of which we are speaking He was found alone in prayer! When He rose from His prayer He said to the Twelve:

"Who do men say that I am ?" And they said : " Some, John the Baptist, and other some, Elias, and others Jeremias or one of the Prophets."

Jesus said to them: "But who do you say that I am?" Peter, foremost as usual, answered:

"Thou art Christ, the Son of the Living God." Here was a glorious profession of faith, proclaiming Christ to be true God, equal to the Father in all things. Jesus said to him:

"Blessed art thou, Simon BarJona, because flesh and blood hath not revealed it to thee, but My Father who is in Heaven. And I say to thee that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to thee the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth it shall be bound also in Heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth it shall be loosed also in Heaven."

Thus, in reward for his grand confession, was Peter made the Vicar of Christ on earth. The other Apostles understood now why, on seeing him for the first time, their Master had called him a rock. As a rock keeps the house firm that is built upon it, so was Peter to keep steady and united the Church founded by Christ on him. And the gates of hell—the power of the devil—shall not prevail against it. Because by the gift of infallibility, Peter and his successors, when they speak to the whole Church on matters of faith or morals, will be preserved from teaching what is false. But Peter is to be not the foundation only, but the Governor and Head of the Church. Therefore, as the governor of a city has the keys put into his hands, so has Peter received full power over the Church to give orders and make laws as he shall see fit. And Christ, the invisible Head of the Church, promises to confirm in Heaven the acts of His Vicar on earth.

Moreover, as the Church is not to pass away with Peter, but to last as long as the world, what is promised to Peter is promised to his successors to the end of time. Now that through their spokesman the Apostles had confessed their faith in our Lord's Divinity, He began to show them that sin requires expiation, and that this can be made only by suffering. Gently and gradually He broke it to them that He would have to redeem the world by bitter pains and a cruel death, but that He would rise again the third day. "And He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the ancients and by the high priests and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again."

They were horrified. It was so different from what they had expected. Why, it was only the other day that He was nearly being made King ! To be the Messiah and to suffer ! To be the Son of the Living God and to be killed ! It was more than Peter, with his faith in our Lord's Divinity, his reverence, his intense affection for Him, could bear. And—oh, what boldness!— he took Him aside and began to rebuke Him

"Lord, be it far from Thee, this shall not be unto Thee."

"Go behind Me, Satan ! because thou savourest not the things that are of God but the things that are of men." What tremendous words ! and from the lips that had just said: "Blessed art thou." Poor Peter fell back, dismayed, among his fellow-Apostles. It was a severe reproof, and showed the Twelve that no one must venture to dissuade the Master from going through the terrible sufferings that lay before Him. His Heart was full of His coming Passion. From this time He spoke of it often, and each time with greater fullness:

"The Son of Man shall be betrayed into the hands of men, and they shall mock Him, and kill Him, and the third day He shall rise again." Always at the end those comforting words. He never separated the Passion from the Resurrection, that the thought of our resurrection and of the joys of Heaven may support us in the troubles of this short life.

But the poor disciples could not take in either the trouble or the comfort that He foretold: and "they were afraid to ask Him," says St. Luke, so they used "to question among themselves what these things might mean." And there was more yet. Not only did our Lord foretell His own sufferings, but He now made it clear that the disciples must be like their Master and that through labours and trials of every kind they must follow Him into the Kingdom of Heaven—they and all who professed themselves His disciples. He was so resolved that there should be no mistake on this point that He called the multitudes together with His disciples and said to all; "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me." These words sorely distressed the Twelve. To think of all their expectations coming to this—a suffering Messiah, and no end of troubles for all who followed Him! Their Master had pity on them, and to strengthen their faith and courage He gave them a proof of His Divinity and a foretaste of the reward prepared for them in Heaven when their trials here were over. It happened in this way:

One evening, a week after Peter's confession at Caesarea Philippi, He took Peter and James and John and went up into a mountain to pray. He loved the mountains. They lifted Him for a little while above this sad earth. He loved the majesty of their solitude, their stillness, their strength. He loved the tranquil glory of the midnight skies into which they rose. He was the Creator of the starry heavens above Him. He knew and controlled all that they contain. If one of His Saints exclaimed: "How dull does earth appear when I look up to Heaven," how did His glorious Soul pour Itself forth in admiration and praise as He knelt there amid the wonders of His own creation through those eastern nights!

And so this evening He went up the mountain, probably Thabor or Hermon, with His chosen three. It was getting dark when they reached the top and knelt down to pray. His companions watched with Him awhile, then, wearied with the labours of the day and the steep ascent, and drowsy in the strong mountain air, they fell asleep.

A dazzling light falling on their faces roused them. They woke and looked around. The Mount, the surrounding heavens, the earth beneath were lit up by a supernatural splendour. And there in the midst—the Source from which all that glory streamed—was their Master, so transfigured that His face shone as the sun, and His glittering garments were white as no fuller on earth can make white. The glory of the Divinity within poured Itself out upon His Face and Form with a brilliancy so intense as to transfigure even His raiment. He had laid aside the form of a servant and taken to Himself the majesty and splendour that became the Son of God. The Sacred Humanity was like a lantern enclosing a light too brilliant to be seen without a shade. In the Transfiguration the shade was withdrawn, and, for an instant, the Light of Light in its transplendent beauty was seen by men. And, behold! two men, Moses and Elias, appeared in majesty, and they were talking with Jesus of His decease which He should accomplish in Jerusalem. Here was a new wonder, Moses, the Lawgiver of the Jews, and Elias, the most marvellous Prophet of the Old Law, coming to pay homage to the Founder of the New Law, and speaking to Him, even in this scene of glory, of His coming sufferings and death. One of the accusations of our Lord's enemies was that He did not respect the Law of Moses. What would His accusers have said had they seen Moses on this night humbly waiting on Jesus of Nazareth as a servant on his lord!

The glorious scene before them so captivated the Apostles that they could only enjoy it in silent awe and intense delight. They listened to Moses and Elias speaking in admiration and gratitude to our Lord of His coming Passion. They heard His tender words in reply. How long this lasted we do not know, but when the Saints seemed to be going Peter, in his vehement desire to keep them, cried out:

"Lord, it is good for us to be here, if Thou wilt let us make here three tabernacles, one for Thee, one for Moses, and one for Elias!" "not knowing what he said," adds St. Luke. Truly, not knowing what he said. It was a simple thought at which he must have wondered afterwards, that those three, resplendent with heavenly glory, could need a dwelling made with hands! And as he was yet speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and lo ! a Voice out of the cloud saying:

"This is My Beloved Son in whom I am well pleased: hear ye Him." And the disciples, hearing, fell upon their faces and were very much afraid. Overwhelmed by the awfulness of so much glory, they did not dare to look up till Jesus came and touched them and said to them:

"Arise, and fear not!" And they, lifting up their eyes and looking about, saw no one but only Jesus. The bright cloud had disappeared. The sky was dark as before, lit only by the
distant stars. Moses and Elias were gone, and Jesus, gentle and lowly as usual, was bending over them and telling them not to be afraid. And, as they came down from the mountain, He charged them saying:

"Tell the vision to no man till the Son of Man be risen from the dead." St. Mark adds: "And they kept the word to themselves, questioning together what that should mean 'when He shall be risen from the dead.' " Poor Apostles! not their Master only, but now Moses and Elias had spoken of the Death that was at hand. And still they could not understand. Peter had wished that night of glory to last for ever. It was good for them to be there on the Mount of Transfiguration, he said. He did not know that this glimpse of Heaven was to prepare them to tread the Way of the Cross, and he little dreamed of another hill, a hill of shame, on which one of the three was to stand beside his Master before many months were passed.

The memory of that glorious night was graven deep in the minds of the Apostles. St. Peter, writing to the faithful thirty-five years later, speaks of what he had heard "when we were with Him in the holy Mount." And in the Last Gospel we hear St. John saying:

"And we saw His glory, the glory as it were of the Only-Begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." His glory was shown to them that their faith might not falter at the sight of His shame, and that all who believe in Him may know that the Way of the Cross is the Way to Heaven, and that the sufferings of this short life are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to come.

Coming down from the mountain next morning our Lord found the nine Apostles who had been left behind, surrounded by a great crowd, and in a difficulty. A poor, possessed boy had been brought to them for cure, and they could not cast out the devil. How glad they were to see their Master coming to their help. And there was another glad, too. The father of the boy came running to Jesus, and, falling at His feet, cried out:

"Lord, have pity on my son, because he is my only one. And, lo! a spirit seizeth him and he suddenly crieth out, and he throweth him down and teareth him. so that he foameth, and bruising him he hardly departeth from him. And I desired Thy disciples to cast him out and they could not." And Jesus said:

"O unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you, how long shall I suffer you ? Bring him hither to Me." And as he was coming to Him the spirit troubled him, and being thrown down upon the ground, he rolled about foaming. And Jesus asked his father:

"How long is it since this hath happened unto him ?" But he said:

"From his infancy. And oftentimes hath he cast him into the fire and often into waters to destroy him. But if Thou canst do anything, help us having compassion on us." And Jesus said to him :

"If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth." And immediately the father of the boy, crying out with tears, said:

"I do believe, Lord, help my unbelief." And Jesus said:

"Deaf and dumb spirit, I command thee, go out of him and enter not any more into him."
And, crying out and greatly tearing him, he went out of him, and he became as dead, so that many said:

"He is dead." But Jesus taking him by the hand lifted him up; and he arose and was cured from that hour. And when He was come into the house, His disciples secretly asked Him:

"Why could not we cast him out?" And He said to them : "This kind can go out by nothing but by prayer and fasting."

A printable file of this chapter as well as a coloring picture are below.

We are drawing near to the end. Not Judas alone but all those who looked for a Messiah who should be the temporal Ruler and Liberator of His people, were grievously disappointed when our Lord declared that He had not come to be a king of the world. It was an earthly kingdom that they wanted, not the Kingdom of Heaven of which He spoke.

According to the rabbis, the Messiah was to march at the head of His people against all heathen nations, to make them subject to the Jews, and to rule from Jerusalem over the whole earth. There was to be a reign of a thousand years, a reign of prosperity, glory and pleasure for the people of God. The fruit trees and the harvest fields were to yield their produce continually, and every product of every clime was to be found in Palestine in an abundance such as the wildest imagination only could conceive. Jewish children were brought up from their earliest years with these expectations, and even our Lord's disciples were full of such earthly hopes. So that when, about this time, their Master began to break gently to them that He was going to redeem the world, not by fighting against the Romans, but by shedding His Blood, they could not understand what He meant.

His enemies—the priests, the Pharisees, the Sadducees and the Herodians—were glad to see the people disappointed, and their enthusiasm for Jesus of Nazareth cooling. They told them that a poor, unlearned man, the son of a carpenter, could never be the glorious Messiah of whom Moses and the Prophets had spoken. They reproved the poor sick people who came to Him on the Sabbath to be cured. They followed Him about, watching Him, laughing at Him, putting difficult questions to Him in the hope of puzzling Him.

For a long time our Lord bore meekly with the Pharisees, who were among the most violent of His enemies. He answered their questions, though He knew they were only asked to entrap Him, and gently pointed out to them the sins which made them displeasing to God. But when He saw that they continued to shut their eyes to the light, and that they were leading the people away from Him, He fearlessly and publicly rebuked them for their hypocrisy and pride, and warned them of the terrible punishment they were preparing for themselves.

One day He told the people this parable:
"Two men went up into the Temple to pray, the one a Pharisee and the other a publican. The Pharisee, standing, prayed thus with himself :

"God, I give Thee thanks that I am not like the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, as also is this publican. I fast twice in a week, I give tithes of all that I possess."
And the publican, standing afar off, would not so much as lift up his eyes towards Heaven, but struck his breast, saying:

"O God, be merciful to me a sinner." I say to you this man went down to his house justified; that is, pleasing to God,' rather than the other, because everyone that exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." How the pride of the Pharisees must have been stung by this parable! To think of anyone daring to compare a Pharisee with a publican, and preferring the publican ! From this time their rage against our Lord knew no bounds, and they leagued with their enemies, the Sadducees and the Herodians, to bring about His destruction. He knew all their plots, but went calmly on His way, teaching and healing, casting out devils, and training His Apostles, knowing that His enemies could do nothing against Him until His hour should come.

On a certain day, when He had been telling the people that in the Kingdom of God the last should be first and the first last—a prospect very unwelcome to the Pharisees— some of these came and said to Him:

"Get Thee hence, for Herod hath a mind to kill Thee." He answered : "Go and tell that fox: Behold, I cast out devils and do cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I am consummated." " No man," He said another day, " taketh My life away from Me, but I lay it down of Myself, and I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again."

One day our Lord crossed the northern border of Palestine and came into the heathen land of Phoenicia.
"He would that no man should know it," says St. Mark, "but He could not be hid." His fame had gone beyond the limits of His own little country, and a poor pagan woman came to Him in her distress. Her daughter was possessed by an evil spirit, and the mother, who had heard of the cures in Palestine, hoped that Jesus of Nazareth would have pity on her child. So she came after Him crying out:

"Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David, my daughter is grievously troubled by a devil." But He answered her not a word. "What an unheard of thing is this ! " says St. John Chrysostom, "He helped those who were undeserving ; He would not send away those who came to tempt and hurt Him, but for one who ran after Him and humbly implored His aid He had not a word." The disciples, annoyed at the disturbance she was making, came to Him, saying:

"Send her away, for she crieth after us." But she would not be sent away, and, paying no heed to them, she besought Him that He would cast forth the devil out of her daughter. And He, answering, said: "I was not sent but to the sheep that are lost of the house of Israel." What a disappointment ! And she had been told He was so kind to those in trouble. Anyone but a mother would have lost heart and gone away disconsolate ; but she did not give in, she was not discouraged. She came and fell down at His feet and adored Him, saying:

"Lord, help me!" And He said:

"It is not good to take the bread of the children and to cast it to the dogs." To this poor woman these words sounded harsher than they do to us, for the dogs of the East are not
the companions and pets we make them, but starving, wretched creatures for which nobody cares. It is not fit, our Lord meant, that the favours granted to the children of God, that is, to the Jews, should be given to pagans like her. Will she go away now, hurt or brokenhearted? No, she is too humble to be hurt, too resolute to be brokenhearted. She will turn His words against Him and make them plead her cause,

"Yes, Lord," she says eagerly, " for the whelps also eat under the table of the crumbs of the children. What Thou sayest is true. It is not fit to take the children's bread for the dogs, but it is fit to give just the crumbs to the little dogs waiting under the table for them. This will not hurt the children. I am only a dog, but a little one to whom some broken bits might perhaps out of kindness be given."

How could our Lord hold out any longer ! He had determined to set this poor heathen before His followers to the end of time as a model of the humble, persevering prayer that wins reward at last. Therefore He was obliged to try her by seeming hard. It was all seeming. From the first He was full of compassion for her and her unhappy child. He longed to help her, and had to hold back the tender, pitying words His heart was prompting Him to say. They came at last as an outburst of admiration that He could no longer restrain:

"O woman, great is thy faith, be it done unto thee as thou wilt!" He who rebuked His disciples for their little faith was delighted with what He found in this Canaanite. He liked, too, the way in which she turned His words about the dogs against Him. St. Mark says it was this sharpness of hers that in the end gained her cause. And Jesus said:

"For this saying, go thy way, the devil is gone out of thy daughter." And, when she was come into her house, she found the girl lying upon the bed, and that the devil was gone
out. Was it worth while to have waited patiently and humbly, and to have persisted in spite of weariness and delay ?