Our Lord had foretold His Passion again and again, but vaguely, naming no time. Now, on the Wednesday of this week, He said to the Twelve:

"You know that after two days shall be the Pasch, and the Son of Man shall be delivered up to be crucified."
His enemies, too, were preparing for the end. On Wednesday the Sanhedrists met at the house of Caiaphas to make their final plans. They dared not take Jesus by force nor in the Temple; for this would provoke the people and draw down their anger upon themselves. If only they could seize Him secretly and get the Romans to make away with Him!
Whilst they were considering how this could be brought about, they were told that a man, one of the common sort, craved admittance. He entered with signs of profound reverence, having come, he said, in obedience to their command that whoever should know where Jesus of Nazareth was should declare it to them.

"What will you give me," he asked, "and I will deliver Him unto you?" He told them that as one of His disciples he was constantly with Him, knew His secrets, and would be able to do the business for them quietly and securely. Bad as these men were, and delighted at this unexpected succour, they could scarcely disguise their contempt for the traitor. They accepted his services, however, and for thirty pieces of silver, about $19.50 of our money, he agreed to deliver his Master into their hands as soon as he should find a convenient opportunity when there was no one about to help Him. Thus were the words of the prophet Zacharias fulfilled:

"And they weighed for my wages thirty pieces of silver, a handsome price that I was prized at by them." How had Judas come to this? Because of that one evil passion which he did not try to conquer. His fall was not sudden. At the time of his call he would have been horrified at the thought of such a crime. But his heart had hardened gradually, and at last, when temptation came, he betrayed and sold for a few pieces of silver the Master for whom he had left all things.

Whilst Judas in Jerusalem was plotting with the Sanhedrists, our Lord in the quiet home of Bethany was preparing His disciples for His coming Passion and Death. Probably His Blessed Mother was there, too. He had told her what was to happen to Him, and though her heart was breaking, she did not try like Peter to save Him from suffering and a cruel death, but bravely and generously accepted the Will of God.

On Thursday morning the disciples came to Jesus, saying:

"Where wilt Thou that we prepare for Thee to eat the Pasch? "Judas quietly drew near to hear the answer. Jesus said:

"Go ye into the city, and there shall meet you a man carrying a pitcher of water. Follow him into the house where he entereth in. And you shall say to the good man of the house: The Master saith to thee, Where is the guest-chamber where I may eat the Pasch with My disciples? And he will show you a large dining-room furnished, and there prepare." Judas was baffled, but, as keeper of the purse, he would probably be sent, and he stood forward ready.

No, Peter and John were to go, and he was foiled again. That Supper Room was to be the scene of holiest mysteries; our Lord was not going to have them disturbed nor the house of His entertainer invaded by Judas' armed band. At His own time and in another place He would suffer Himself to be taken, and in the meantime the traitor was kept in the dark.

Entering the City, Peter and John see the man with the pitcher on his head, and follow him, not without difficulty, through the narrow, thronged streets. Jews out of every nation under heaven, nearly three millions of them, are here—too many by far to be housed within the walls, though every house is taxed to its utmost. Late comers are camping out on Olivet and all the country round as far as Bethany. What variety of costume, and what a Babel of tongues! Here, in bright armour, come a body of Roman soldiers, for the Governor has come from Caesarea as usual and taken up his quarters in the Praetorium. And in the fortress of Antonia, overlooking the Temple Courts, is a strong garrison of troops ready to swoop down upon the people at the least sign of disturbance the Pasch is wont to be a troublesome time. There go some courtly Herodians and wealthy Sadducees and despised publicans. Over there, above the heads of the crowd, appear the high turbans of rabbis. Priests, traders, Gentile strangers, slaves—through what a motley throng the two Apostles made their way!

They have come to a house on Mount Sion in the south-western quarter of the City. Here their guide stops, and they go in and give their message. The owner's face brightens at the first words: "The Master saith," and whilst Peter goes off to buy the lamb, he helps John to make everything ready in the upper chamber which he puts at our Lord's disposal. The Apostles wonder why he is so willing—he is a secret disciple, perhaps. Peter buys the victim, a lamb without blemish of a year old, and takes it to the Temple, where it is killed. In preparing it for cooking the greatest care must be taken that no bone shall be broken. This lamb is a type of Him of whom the prophet had said:

"They shall not break a bone of Him." Before being roasted it is fastened to two pieces of wood, the front feet being stretched out in the form of a cross. When Peter returns he finds all ready—on the tables the thin cakes of unleavened bread, the bitter herbs, the wine mixed with water, and a red sauce called charoseth. Round the low tables, forming a semi-circle, John had so arranged the couches that he would be on one side of his Master and Judas on the other, at one end of the tables, Peter opposite at the other end, the rest in pairs around, as he knew they would like. Pitchers of water and basins for washing hands were about the room, and the whole was lit up by festive lamps.

As evening drew on Jesus came with the other Apostles. When they had taken their places He said to them:

"With desire I have desired to eat this Pasch with you before I suffer." Then John, as the youngest present, asked the meaning of this night's solemn service, and our Lord told the story of the deliverance from Egypt, of the sprinkling of the blood of the Paschal Lamb, of the Manna in the desert, and of the lifting up of the Brazen Serpent, by which their fathers of old were saved from death. As He looked upon the lamb stretched crosswise before Him, He thought of the morrow, when, after fifteen hundred years of types, the fulfilment
would come, and the Lamb of God by His Death would take away the sins of the world.

During the Paschal Supper Jesus rose from the table, laid aside His upper garment, and, having taken a towel, girded Himself. Then, pouring water into a basin, He came and knelt before Peter to wash his feet. Peter, all amazement, drew them up, exclaiming:

"Lord, dost Thou wash my feet ?" Jesus said to him: "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." Peter said to Him:

"Thou shalt never wash my feet." Jesus answered him:

"If I wash thee not thou shalt have no part with Me." Peter said to Him: "Lord, not only my feet but also my hands and my head." Jesus said to him:

"He that is washed needeth not but to wash his feet, but is clean wholly. And you are clean, but not all." Then after He had washed their feet and taken His garments, being sat down again, He said to them:

"Know you what I have done to you ? You call Me Master and Lord, and you say well, for so I am. If then I, being your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example that as I have done to you, so you do also." Then He said to them sorrowfully:

"Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you shall betray Me."
 
The disciples in consternation looked upon one another, "doubting of whom He spoke" says St. John. And being very much troubled they began to say to Him one by one:

"Is it I, Lord?" And He answering said: "One of the Twelve whose hand is with Me on the table, he shall betray Me. The Son of Man indeed goeth as it is written of Him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man shall be betrayed; it were better for him if that man had not been born."

Terrified at these awful words, the disciples were silent. But presently Judas, afraid of being noticed if he did not ask with the rest, said:

"Is it I, Rabbi?" Jesus answered him in a whisper: "Thou hast said it."

How careful our Lord must have been of the good name of Judas_, that not one of his fellow-disciples thought of suspecting him. Even now the miserable man was not afraid of his Master betraying him, or he would never have dared to put that question. What would have happened if Peter or the sons of Zebedee had heard those words: "Thou hast said it?"

The Heart of Jesus was wrung with anguish at the thought of the misery to which one of His chosen Twelve was rushing. Again and again during the supper He speaks of the betrayal, now in tender, now in terrible words, striving by fear when love had failed to save him before it is too late. But now for a brief space the heavy cloud that overshadowed
them all seemed lifted. For, as they looked upon the Master, they saw His countenance glow with a love and fervour so intense as to appear transfigured.

He had cleared a little space in front of Him and taken into His holy and venerable hands one of the loaves of unleavened bread. And, whilst they looked on in wonder, He lifted up His eyes to Heaven, and, giving thanks, blessed, and broke, and gave to them, saying:

"Take ye and eat, this is My Body which is given for you. Do this for a commemoration of Me." And they received from His hand what He gave His true Body under the appearance of bread. Here, then, was the meaning of those mysterious words at Capharnaum:

"The bread that I will give is My flesh for the life of the world." They did not understand even now, but He had the words of eternal life; they believed, and adored.

During the Paschal supper three cups of wine mixed with water were passed round from one guest to another. Standing before Jesus was the third cup, "the chalice of benediction," which had to be taken before the last hymns were sung. Jesus took it into His hands, and, giving thanks, blessed it and passed it to them, saying:

"Drink ye all of this. For this is My Blood of the New Testament which shall be shed for many unto the remission of sins." And again they received what He gave them—His true Blood under the appearance of wine. They received not more than before, not more than we receive in Holy Communion, but under another appearance. And because it was Himself whole and entire, together with His Body and Blood were His Soul and Divinity, all
that He has and is. Truly might the Beloved Disciple say of Jesus, instituting this Sacrament of Love, that "having loved His own, who were in the world. He loved them unto the end." Love, even such as His, can go no further. It is because it has gone so far that men refuse to believe.

The first Mass had been said; the first Consecration wrought; the first Communicants fed in the greatest of the Sacraments with the true Bread from Heaven; the first priests ordained. For Christ, as David had foretold, was to be a Priest, not once only, on Calvary, but "for ever," a Priest like Melchisedech, whose offering was bread and wine. The New Sacrifice was to be the Sacrifice of the Gentiles, as the prophet Malachy had foretold, offered in every land, at every hour, from the rising to the setting of the sun, not lessening but magnifying the first and bloody Sacrifice from which its virtue flows. Where but in the Sacrifice of the Mass shall we find these prophecies fulfilled? To carry on His office when He was gone, the great High- Priest had to ordain other priests, and this He did in these words:

"Do this in commemoration of Me." With bowed heads the first Communicants made their thanksgiving. When they looked again into their Master's face, the glow of exultation with which He had made us the greatest of His gifts had passed away, and once more there had settled on His brow the anguish of a friend betrayed. Peter could bear the dreadful suspense no longer. Being directly opposite to John, he beckoned to him and said:

"Who is it of whom He speaketh ?" John, leaning back on his couch, was resting his head on his Master's breast. He looked up into His face and said:

"Lord, who is it?" Jesus answered: "He it is to whom I shall reach bread dipped." And when He had moistened the bread, He gave it to Judas Iscariot. Then, seeing every warning lost on the traitor, He said to him:

"What thou doest do quickly." No one at the table, St. John tells us, knew why this was said. They thought our Lord had sent Judas to buy something, or to give an alms to the poor. Judas at once rose and went out. And it was night. The white light of the Paschal moon shone into the room and fell full on the Master's face. It was pale and troubled. And its trouble was reflected on all the faces round. The disciples were so accustomed to lean on Him, to cast all their care on Him, that they could only see with blank dismay the cloud upon that brow hitherto serene in every storm. A dim apprehension of coming sorrow, of parting from Him who was all in all to them, weighed heavily on them, and they looked at Him helplessly for comfort. He did not disappoint them. Never before had His words been so tender:

"Little children," He said, looking round upon them, "yet a little while I am with you. You shall seek Me, but whither I go you cannot come." Peter said to Him:

"Lord, whither goest Thou?" Jesus answered: "Whither I go thou canst not follow Me now, but thou shalt follow hereafter." Peter said to Him:

"Why cannot I follow Thee now? I will lay down my life for Thee." Jesus answered him:

"Wilt thou lay down thy life for Me? Amen, amen, I say to thee, the cock shall not crow till thou deny Me thrice." Peter deny his Master! The disciples were astonished. Of all the surprises to-night this was the greatest. But, if Peter is to fall away, some one else must be first. Who will it be? And at once they begin the old dispute—which of them is the greatest. But Peter, in spite of his fall, was not to lose the place to which his Master had raised him. Our Lord went on:

"Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat; but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not, and thou being once converted confirm thy brethren." Peter said to Him:

"Lord, I am ready to go with Thee both to prison and to death." And He said: "

I say to thee, Peter, the cock shall not crow this day till thou thrice deniest that thou knowest Me."

Every act, every word of our Blessed Lord's at the Last Supper speaks of love. He is taking leave of His dearly beloved disciples. He is giving them His farewell instructions. And now He gives them that Commandment which, because it is so dear to His Heart, He calls His own. A new commandment I give you that you love one another. This is My commandment that you love one another as I have loved you. By this shall all men know that you are My disciples, if you have love one for another. Let not your heart be troubled. I go to prepare a place for you. And I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you also may be. And I will ask the Father to give you another Comforter. Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you. You now indeed have sorrow, but I will see you again and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man shall take from you."

Then, lifting up His eyes to Heaven, He prayed for them to His Father that they might be kept safe amid the dangers of the world, and that where He was going they too might come and be with Him. After this they said a hymn and went out. It was late, but the moon was flooding the City with light. The Temple roof was one sheet of silver. They crossed the brook Cedron, and began to go up the Mount of Olives. And Jesus said to them:

"You will all be scandalized in Me this night, for it is written: "I will strike the shepherd and the sheep shall be scattered. But after I shall be risen again, I will go before you into Galilee." Peter said to Him:

"Although all shall be scandalized in Thee, yet not I." Jesus said to him: "Amen, amen, I say to thee, today, even in this night, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny Me thrice." But he spoke the more vehemently:

"Although I should die together with Thee, I will not deny Thee." And in like manner also said they all."

A few paces above the brook was a garden called Gethsemane. It was a quiet place, and our Lord often went there to pray; sometimes He spent the whole night in prayer beneath the olive trees. On this night He left eight of the Apostles at the gate, and took inside only Peter, James and John.

"My soul is sorrowful even unto death," He said to these three, and He begged them like good and faithful friends not to leave Him alone in His trouble, but to watch and pray with Him. Bright moonlight lit up the Garden, but beneath the trees all was dark and gloomy. Our Lord went forward alone and knelt down. Presently He fell on His face and prayed in an agony of terror that He might be spared the awful sufferings that were at hand.

"Abba, Father," He said, " all things are possible to Thee; remove this chalice from Me; but not what I will, but what Thou wilt." He had offered Himself to take away the sins of the world, and now they all came distinctly before Him, every sin and every sinner. And He was to be punished as if He had done all those wicked things. He saw the punishment—the spitting, the scourging, the nailing to the cross, the hanging there for three long hours. He saw, too, that all He was going to suffer would be of no use to many souls that He loved. The pain of all this was so dreadful that He went to His three disciples to get a little comfort from them. But they were asleep! Gently waking them, He said to Peter:

"What ! Could you not watch one hour with Me? Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation." Again He went and prayed saying the same words! His trouble of mind became so awful that it was like the agony of a dying man. He was bathed in a sweat of blood, which, after soaking His garments, trickled down upon the ground. Then an Angel came from Heaven to comfort Him by showing Him the good that from His bitter pains would come to us. And He said:

"My Father, if this chalice cannot pass away unless I drink it, Thy Will be done." He did not give up prayer on this dreadful night, but taught us by His example to pray more earnestly when we are in trouble; for "being in an agony He prayed the longer."

About midnight lights appeared behind the trees, and our Lord went to rouse His disciples, who had fallen asleep again. "Rise" He said, "behold, he that will betray Me is at hand." A band of soldiers and servants from the chief priests, with lanterns, torches and weapons, were coming stealthily into the Garden, led by a man who looked about here and there as if in search of someone. He had given the party a sign, saying:

"Whomsoever I shall kiss, that is He; lay hold on Him and lead Him away carefully." And, going up to Jesus, he said:

"Hail, Rabbi !" and kissed Him. Jesus said to him:

"Friend, whereto art thou come? Judas, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?" It was the last warning—a tender word, and a solemn one—and both thrown away. Then, knowing all things that were to come upon Him, He went forward and said to the soldiers:

"Whom seek ye?" They answered: "Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus answered:

"I am He." As soon as He had said this they went backward Judas, the soldiers, the priests—and fell on their faces before Him. He let them rise, and asked again:

"Whom seek ye?" They answered:

"Jesus of Nazareth." Jesus answered: "I have told you that I am He; if, therefore, you seek Me, let these go their way." He pointed to His disciples, and forbade the soldiers to touch them. Then His enemies came up and bound Him fast.

"Lord, shall we strike with the sword?" cried Peter. And without waiting for an answer, he drew a sword he had with him, and striking one of the servants of the High-Priest, cut off his right ear. But Jesus said:

"Put up thy sword into its place. The chalice which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?" And bending forward, He touched the servant's ear and healed him.

Then the disciples all leaving Him fled away. But Peter and John, ashamed of their cowardice, soon returned and followed their Master as He was led to the palace of the High-priest. This was Caiaphas, though many of the Jews who would not acknowledge a man appointed by the Romans regarded Annas, his father-in-law, as the High-priest. The palaces of the two were separated by a courtyard only. All was astir there when the soldiers arrived with the Prisoner. Annas, a cruel and wicked old man, the chief contriver of the plots against our Lord, had sent for Him that he might enjoy the sight of his enemy now helpless and humbled; and at the house of Caiaphas the members of the Sanhedrin were arriving for the trial that was to be held there immediately.

Annas questioned our Blessed Lord about His doctrines and His disciples, in the hope of getting Him to say something that could be turned against Him. Our Lord who saw into his heart bade him ask those who had heard His teaching. On this, a servant of Annas, thinking to please his Master, struck Jesus a heavy blow on the face, saying:

"Answerest Thou the High-priest so?" Jesus said gently: "If I have spoken evil, give testimony of the evil, but if well, why strikest thou Me ?"

The Sanhedrists were now assembled at the house of Caiphas, and seated in a semi-circle on cushions, Caiphas, as president, on a platform. Our Lord was brought in by His guards and placed standing before His judges for trial. It was a strange trial, for the death of the Prisoner was already decreed, and all that was wanted was some evidence against Him to give an appearance of justice to the sentence. But His life had been so holy that there was no hope of finding anything amiss in it; false witnesses were therefore brought in, but their testimony did not agree. Jesus heard all and was silent. The prophet Isaias had said of Him:

"He shall be dumb as a lamb before His shearer, and He shall not open His mouth." At length Caiaphas, flushed with anger, rose up and exclaimed:

"Answerest Thou nothing to the things that are laid to Thy charge by these men?" But He answered nothing. What was to be done? How could He be made to speak? The crafty president sees a way. He will put a question to which the Accused will be bound to answer, and on that answer He can be condemned. See them standing there face to face—the Highpriest in his robes of office, the Son of God with His hands bound behind His back.

"I adjure Thee by the Living God," said Caiaphas, "that Thou tell us if Thou be the Christ, the Son of God." Jesus said to him:  "Thou hast said it. And, hereafter, you shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of the power of God and coming in the clouds of Heaven." This was all they wanted. Transported, as it were, with holy indignation, the High-priest seized His garment and tore it from the neck down.

"He hath blasphemed!" he cried; "behold, you have heard the blasphemy; what think you?" And they answering said : " He is guilty of death."

A disgraceful scene of insult and cruelty followed, in which the priests themselves seem to have set the example. "The men that held Him mocked Him and struck Him. And they did spit on His face and buffeted Him. And they blindfolded Him and smote His face with the palms of their hands, saying:

"Prophesy unto us, O Christ ! who is he that struck Thee?" While all this was going on before Annas and Caiaphas, another scene was taking place in the courtyard below where the servants were waiting to hear the result of the trial. The night was cold and they had made a fire and were standing round it warming themselves. Peter, who had come into the court, was warming himself with the rest. The light was full upon his face, and the portress, who had let him in, after looking at him attentively, said:

"Thou also wast with Jesus of Nazareth." Peter was frightened and denied before them all:

"Woman, I know Him not." And the cock crew. A little later another maid saw him and said to the standers by:

"This man was with Jesus of Nazareth." Again he denied and with an oath:

"I know not the Man." An oath this time, and his Master is "the Man." About an hour after, when it had got about among the servants that one of the disciples of the Galilean had dared to come in amongst them, they came about Peter and said:

"Surely thou art one of them, for even thy speech doth betray thee." Even the commoner sort in Jerusalem made fun of the pronunciation and talk of the north country folk, and Peter had only to open his mouth to prove that he was unmistakably from Galilee. Poor Peter, he had been getting more and more frightened. Thoroughly terrified now, he began to curse and to swear, saying:

"I know not this Man of whom you speak." The cock crew again, and at the same moment our Lord passed through the court. He was suffering cruelly from the hands of His tormentors, but more cruelly from the lips of His chosen disciple who had denied Him. Yet there was no indignation in His Heart. Rather was It full of pity for one who after all had followed Him into danger out of love. And the Lord turning looked on Peter. And Peter remembered the word that Jesus had said unto him:

"Before the cock crow twice thou shalt thrice deny Me." And, going forth, he wept bitterly.

We have come to the last week of our Lord's Life. The Evangelists could not set down all the wonders of that Life, for St. John tells us every day was filled with marvels. But when they come to this last week they follow their Lord, as it were, with slower and more reverent step, giving a fuller and more minute account of His actions day by day.

There are many reasons for this. It is not only that in this week He accomplished the great work He came to do; redeemed us from sin and hell; reconciled us with His Father; opened the gates of Heaven to us, and set up the New Law, the New Sacraments, the New Priesthood in place of the Old; but it is because in this week the tenderness of His love comes out more wonderfully than ever. His words and acts and prayers are so brimming over with love and sweetness that the Evangelists could not bear to pass them
over in silence. We owe these blessed writers more for their account of this week than for all beside. And we should come to the history of these last days of our dear Lord's Life on earth with hearts more reverent, more full of love and gratitude than hitherto, that we may believe and understand and feel about them as is pleasing to Him and helpful to our own souls.

The day after the supper in Simon's house was chosen by Christ for His solemn entry into the City in which such great things were to be done. Accompanied by the Twelve and by a crowd going up for the Feast, He left Bethany. When they had reached Bethphage, a village on the eastern slope of Olivet, He sent two of His disciples, saying to them:

"Go ye into the village that is over against you, and immediately you shall find an ass tied and a colt with her, on which no man hath ever sitten; loose them and bring them to Me. And if any man shall say anything to you, say ye that the Lord hath need of them, and forthwith he will let them go."

"Now all this was done," says St. Matthew, " that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet saying: "Tell ye the daughter of Sion: Behold, thy King cometh to thee meek, and sitting on an ass,, and a colt, the foal of her that is used to the yoke." Every prophecy concerning Him was clearly before the mind of our Blessed Saviour, and, at the proper time, He fulfilled each even to its smallest circumstances. This exact fulfilment of prophecy was one of the marks by which the Jews ought to have known Him to be the Messiah, but they would not notice what they did not want to see.

The disciples found the colt and its mother tied to the gate just as Jesus had said, and they began to loose them.

"What are you doing loosing the colt ? " cried out the owners. They answered as Jesus had told them, and the owners let the animals go. The disciples brought them to Jesus and laid their long cloaks upon the colt by way of trappings, and He sat upon it. The procession formed about Him and began its march, the solemn entry of the Messiah-King into His capital, solemn and yet so humble, the King riding on a little creature not yet broken in, and followed, not by the royal guards, but by a joyous throng, men, women, and children, chiefly the poor, who crowded round Him and filled the air with their shouts of gladness. "A very great multitude" we are told, "spread their garments in the way, and others cut boughs from the trees and strewed them in the way."

When, following the steep footpath . up the Mount, they had reached the summit, they halted, for another multitude from Jerusalem was making its way up the western slope. News had spread through the City that Jesus of Nazareth, who had raised Lazarus to life, was on His way thither, and the people were pouring out to meet Him and take Him back in triumph. The two multitudes met and mingled at that point of the road from which the City first bursts full on the view. Jerusalem in all its majesty appeared beneath, and at the sight the whole concourse of His disciples, they that went before and they that followed, began with joy to praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works they had seen, saying:

"Blessed be the King who cometh in the name of the Lord, peace in Heaven and glory on high! Hosanna to the Son of David ! Blessed be the Kingdom of our father David that cometh, Hosanna in the highest!"

There were some Pharisees in the vast procession, and at their old occupation of faultfinding. Having tried in vain to stop the shouts of joy, they made their way up to our Lord and said to Him:

"Master, rebuke Thy disciples." He said to them : "I say to you that if these shall hold their peace, the stones will cry out." The disciples were beside themselves with delight.

"It has come at last!" they said to one another as they walked proudly by their Master's side. And right heartily did they wave their palms and join in the cry:

"Blessed he the Kingdom of our father David that cometh, Hosanna in the highest!"

There, on the summit of Olivet, stood the procession facing the City. Palaces, towers, battlements, gardens, lay bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun; and, towering above all, appeared the snowy marble and glittering gold of the gorgeous Temple, the pride and the joy of every child of Israel. The people were bringing her King, her long-expected Messiah, to Jerusalem, and at the sight of the City rising there in all her glory, their joyous shouts broke out afresh. And the King Himself—how did He look upon Jerusalem? St. Luke tells us:

"And when He drew near the City He wept over it, saying: "If thou also hadst known and that in this thy day the things that are to thy peace! but now they are hidden from thy eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, and thy enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and straiten thee on every side, and beat thee flat to the ground and thy children who are in thee; and they shall not leave in thee a stone upon a stone, because thou hast not known the time of thy visitation."

He knew what was coming—that in five days He would be hanging in agony on a cross outside the walls, forsaken by all. But it was not this that brought the tears to His eyes. It was the misery of the guilty City that was about to reject Him and pray that His Blood might be upon her and upon her children. He looked forward forty years and thought of the horrors of that awful siege when, at just such a Pasch as this, the Roman army would close round the walls and the starving millions within; when the Temple would be burnt to the ground; when there would not be wood enough for the numbers to be crucified, nor purchasers for the thousands sold into slavery. He knew what was coming upon poor Jerusalem, and His tears were for her. Amid cries of joy and waving of branches, the children running on before shouting

"Hosanna, blessed be He that cometh in the name of the Lord!" He entered Jerusalem. And the whole City was moved. Men, women and children swarmed on to the roofs and out into the streets to ask:

"Who is this ?" Those who were bringing in our Lord answered triumphantly:

"This is Jesus, the Prophet of Nazareth." Under their breath the Pharisees muttered to one another: "Do you see that we prevail nothing? behold the whole world has gone after Him."

The crowds dispersed, our Lord dismounted, and followed by the Twelve entered the Temple. Let us see Him going in at the Beautiful Gate. His form is slender and delicate. His hair falls over His shoulders beneath the handkerchief that binds His brow and covers the back of His neck. Over the tunic, a long robe girt in at the waist, is a wide cloak, or abba, blue bordered and tasselled at the corners. It falls over one shoulder, reaching nearly to the bottom of the tunic. The sandals, much worn, are merely soles strapped to the feet. Everything is simple, poor, travel-stained. Yet He is truly kingly as He moves forward among the throng. In His look, His bearing, His gestures, there is a marvellous mingling of majesty and humility. The charm of His Person, the graciousness
of His ways, captivates the people and attracts even the little children, who crowd about Him. Yet those who love Him most worship Him with deepest awe. Never have men felt as they feel in the Presence of this Man. And no wonder, for He is not only truly Man—He is God! Still singing "Hosanna!" which means "Save now!" the children followed Him into the Temple.

They called upon the Levite children of the Temple choir to join them, and presently there rose up from the marble Court into the blue sky overhead the exquisite voices of the little choristers, welcoming our Blessed Lord in the Hallel, or hymn of praise they had ready for the Messiah's coming. The priests and the rulers disowned Him, but the children received Him with songs of gladness. Sweeter far and more pleasing to God than all the solemn chants of the Temple's magnificent worship, was that afternoon's Benediction service of the little children. He needed their comfort, for His Heart was saddened by the same sights and sounds that had dishonoured His Father's House three years before. Up from the Court of the Gentiles came the cries of traders, the bleating of sheep, the wrangling of the money-changers—all the noise of a market, and a greater uproar than usual, for on this day the Paschal lamb was chosen, to be kept apart till the hour of sacrifice. Our Lord said nothing. He had come to the Temple to offer Himself as the Lamb chosen from all eternity for sacrifice, and He would spend these last peaceful hours in the Temple Courts quietly with the children.

The blind and the lame came to Him and He healed them as the children stood around. Then, as evening fell, He went out to Bethany with the Twelve. The short triumph was over. 'Not one out of those multitudes who had hailed Him as Messiah in the morning had offered Him a shelter for the night. He climbed the path down which the procession had passed a few hours before, and came to the house at Bethany and was welcomed there.

Early next morning, Monday, on His way to Jerusalem, He saw a fig-tree in the distance. He went up to it, for He was hungry. And finding nothing on it but leaves, He said to it:

"May no fruit grow on thee any more for ever."  Coming into the Temple, He found in the Court of the Gentiles the same disgraceful scene as before—oxen, sheep and lambs huddled together by thousands, or being dragged hither and thither, traders shouting to one another, pilgrims from distant countries disputing in many languages with the money-changers.

Suddenly, above the confusion and the din, was
heard a loud, clear Voice:

"My House shall be called the House of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves." Every head was turned to the Speaker. He stood upon a step looking down upon the scene. There was no scourge in His hand now; the Divine majesty that shone in His human face—this did the work of cleansing. The birdsellers caught up their cages as best they might; the money-changers, the traders of every kind, fled before Him, content to drop and lose their wares rather than meet the indignation of that glance. Not a word had the priests to say in self-defence. It was they who allowed this unholy trading, it was to them the profits went. They were stung to the quick by being thus disgraced, and consulted together how they might destroy Jesus. If only He in His turn could be put to shame before the people, their credit might be restored. And at last they hit on a plan for bringing this about.

Everyone knew that the scribes, whose task it was to interpret the Law, were only ordained after long study, and empowered to teach by the delivery of a tablet and a key. Now, where had this carpenter of Nazareth studied? Let Him answer that and show His tablet and key before the people. If He should avoid this trap, they had another ready from which it would be impossible to escape. Some of the Herodians should go up to Him when He was teaching and pretend to have a difficulty of conscience about the tribute which every Jew had to pay to Caesar. Was it lawful to pay it or not? If He said it was not lawful, they would at once give Him over to Pontius Pilate and to the vengeance of Rome. If He should say it was lawful, the people would turn upon Him as a traitor to His country. Now, then, they had Him safe. They were so delighted with their scheme that they were impatient for His hour of teaching on the morrow.

As our Lord with the Twelve came over Olivet on Tuesday morning they passed the fig-tree, or rather the place where it had stood, for it was withered away to the very roots. "And the disciples seeing it wondered," says St. Matthew. Our Lord entered the Temple and made His way through the crowd already waiting for Him to the Court of the Women, the common meeting place of worshipers. He was walking in one of the Porches there when a number of chief priests, scribes and ancients were seen advancing. They were Sanhedrists, and the people respectfully made way before them. Coming up to Jesus, they addressed Him in a lofty tone:

"Tell us by what authority Thou dost these things, and who hath given Thee this authority." Jesus answering said to them:

"I also will ask you one word, which, if you shall tell Me, I will also tell you by what authority I do these things.

"Was John the Baptist a prophet sent from God or not?" They were silent and thought within themselves: If we say he was a prophet from God He will ask: Why, then, did you not believe in Him? If we say he was no prophet we are afraid of the people. And they said:
"We know not." He said to them: "Neither do I tell you by what authority I do these things."

He went on to tell them a parable of a householder who sent servant after servant to the husbandmen in charge of his vineyard to receive the fruits from them. And the husbandmen beat, and wounded, and killed them. Having yet one son most dear to him, He also sent him unto them last of all, saying : "I will send my beloved son; it may be when they see him they will reverence him." And the husbandmen said: "This is the heir, let us kill him and we shall have his inheritance." And, taking him, they cast him forth out
of the vineyard and killed him.

After this our Lord told the parable of a king who made a marriage for his son, and those who were invited would not come. So the king gave their places to others. His enemies knew that in these parables He spoke of them, and they were filled with rage; but the people were there and they could do nothing. A party of the Herodians now came up, and one of them, bowing low before Him, said:

"Master, we know that Thou art a true speaker and teachest the way of God in truth. Tell us, therefore, is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar or not?" But Jesus, knowing their wickedness, said: "Why do ye tempt Me, ye hyprocrites? Show Me the coin of the tribute." And they offered Him a penny. Jesus said to them:

"Whose image and superscription is this?" They say to Him: "Caesar's." He said to them: "Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar's and to God the things that are God's." What could they say? By their own law he was the owner of a country whose image and inscription were found on its coins. They were so filled with wonder at His answer, that they could neither reply nor hide their confusion. The best thing to do was to get away as fast as possible. And this they did. Thus did His enemies come up one after another, to have their plots overthrown as easily as a child's house of cards. The people watched Him with admiration. They saw Him interrupted continually in His teaching by His malignant foes, yet bearing Himself with a royal dignity and calmness that neither insult nor cowardly cunning could disturb.

Will the people keep faithful to Him when the hour of trial comes? We shall see. Our Lord had borne long and patiently with the Pharisees. But, seeing that they were hardening their hearts more and more and doing grievous harm to others, He at length pronounced against them those terrible condemnations which make us tremble as we hear them. Again and again came the fearful words:

"Woe to you Scribes and Pharisees, hyprocrites!" He rebuked their pride, their avarice, their cunning. He would still send His servants to teach them and warn them of the judgments that were at hand, but they would persecute and scourge and crucify them.

"Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" He cried, "thou that killest the prophets and stonest them that are sent to thee, how often would I have gathered together thy children as the hen gathers her chickens under her wings and thou wouldst not. Behold, your house shall be left to you desolate. For I say to you you shall not see Me henceforth till you say:

"Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord." Leaving the rulers, He went and sat down near the Treasury and watched the people dropping their offerings into the trumpet-shaped chests that stood there. Many that were rich cast in much. And there came a certain poor widow, and she cast in two mites, which make a farthing. And, calling His disciples together, He said to them:

"Amen, I say to you this poor widow hath cast in more than all. For all they did cast in of their abundance, but she of her want hath cast in all she had, even her whole living."

He took His final leave of the Temple that Tuesday. The disciples, struck by His sadness, followed Him in silence down into the valley and across the brook Cedron and up the slope of Olivet. But He could not leave the city without another farewell glance. He loved Jerusalem, and His heart was breaking at the thought of what it was, what it might have been, what in a few
years it was to come to.
Arrived at the summit of the Mount, He turned and faced the City. So beautiful it looked in the quiet glow of evening, its massive walls, palaces, terraces, the snowy colonnades and golden roofing of the Temple, all lit up by the setting sun, that one of the disciples said to Him:

"Master, behold what manner of stones and what buildings are here." And Jesus answering said to him:

"Seest thou all these great buildings? There shall not be left a stone upon a stone that shall not be thrown down." He seated Himself on a ledge of rock facing the Temple, and seemed lost in thought. Peter, Andrew, James, and John came and asked Him apart:

"Tell us when shall these things be, and what shall be the sign of Thy coming and of the end of the world?"

Then He told them what would happen before the destruction of Jerusalem and before the Last Day. The way to Heaven for His followers would be through troubles of every kind.

"But he that shall persevere to the end," said Jesus, " he shall be saved." As the awful Day of Judgment draws near, there will be signs in the sun and in the moon and in the stars, earthquakes and pestilence and famine, and roaring of the sea and of the waves, men withering away for fear and expectation of what shall come upon the whole world.

And yet, in spite of these signs and terrors, the Great Day will come suddenly at last and find men in the midst of their enjoyments and sins. Like a flash of lightning, seen by all, startling all—so will He come. His servants must be always ready, not so much for the Last Day of the world as for the day of their death, which will be the Last Day for each one of us. He told them the parable of the Ten Virgins who had to meet the Bridegroom with lighted lamps. And five were foolish and took no oil with them. And when at midnight came the sudden cry:

"Behold, the Bridegroom cometh, go ye forth to meet Him !" they were not ready and were shut out.

"Watch ye, therefore" He said, " for you know not when the lord of the house cometh. And what I say to you I say to all: "Watch!" He went on to tell them what will happen at the end of the world when He comes to judge all men:

"They shall see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of Heaven with much power and majesty. And He shall send His Angels with a trumpet and a great voice; and they shall gather together His elect from the four winds, from the farthest parts of the heavens to the utmost bounds of them. And all nations shall be gathered together before Him, and He shall separate them one from another as the shepherd separateth the sheep from the goats, and He shall set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on His left. Then shall the King say to them that shall be on His right hand:

"Come, ye blessed of My Father, possess you the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." Then He shall say to them also that shall be on His left hand:

"Depart from Me, you cursed, into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels. And these shall go into everlasting punishment, but the just into life everlasting."

A printable file of this chapter as well as a coloring picture can be found below.

At last His hour was come. It was time to go up to Jerusalem for the offering of the Great Sacrifice. Before setting out, He took the disciples apart and
said to them:
"Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man shall be betrayed to the chief priests and the scribes, and they shall condemn Him to death, and
shall deliver Him to the Gentiles to be mocked, and
scourged, and crucified, and the third day He shall
rise again."
St. Luke tells us that " they understood none of these things." Accustomed to see Him followed by admiring crowds, untouched by the hands raised to stone Him, and by the officers sent to make Him prisoner, they would not believe that harm could come to Him. On the contrary, they thought He was going up to Jerusalem to take possession of His throne and begin His glorious reign as the Messiah-King. He had promised them that they too should sit on thrones. It was time to remind Him of this and to secure the first places in the new Kingdom. So at least thought James and John. They slipped away from the rest and returned presently with their mother, who came with them to our Lord, adoring and asking something of Him:

"Master," they said, " we desire that whatsoever we shall ask Thou wouldst do it for us." "What would you that I should do for you ?" He replied.

"Grant to us that we may sit, the one on Thy right hand and the other on Thy left in Thy glory." What a time for such a petition! When He had scarcely finished speaking of His bitter sufferings that were at hand—then to come begging for honours ! Yet their gentle Master did not reproach them.

"You know not what you ask," He said. " Can you drink of the chalice that I drink of ?" They said to Him: "We can." He said to them : "Of My chalice indeed you shall drink, but to sit on My right hand or on My left is not Mine to give to you, but for them for whom it is prepared by My Father." And the ten hearing it began to be much displeased with James and John. Jesus called them all round Him and told them that in His Kingdom those who want to be first must make themselves the servants of the rest. This settled the dispute for the time. He knew the day would come when, by the grace of His Holy Spirit, these jealousies, quarrels and desires of earthly greatness would cease—and He waited.

On His way to Jerusalem our Lord was accompanied by a multitude of pilgrims going up for the Pasch, and as they approached Jericho the crowd around Him became enormous. Past the gardens of roses, for which the city was famous, past the orchards of figs and dates, it moved slowly along till He suddenly stopped beneath a sycamore tree growing by the wayside, and looked up. The crowd came to a standstill. Zaccheus, the chief of the tax gatherers, had climbed up there because he wanted to see Jesus, who, he had been told, was the Friend of publicans and sinners. He was too short to see over the shoulders of others, and no one would make way for him. He had made himself rich at the expense of his fellow-countrymen and in the service of the Romans, and, therefore, was hated and despised by all. But he was determined to see Jesus, and, without minding the laughter of the passers by, had climbed up into the tree beneath which the Lord must pass. What was his astonishment to see Him stop, look up, and call him by his name:

"Zaccheus, make haste and come down, for this day I must abide in thy house." His house! the house of a publican ! He of all that crowd to have the honour of entertaining the Master! "He made haste and came down," says St. Luke, " and received Him with joy. And, when all saw it, they murmured, saying that He was gone to be a guest with a man that was a sinner." Zaccheus took the harsh judgment humbly; his heart was too full of gladness to mind it, and he was ready to pay any price for the favour shown him. He came and stood before our Lord to make his confession and purpose of amendment and satisfaction:

"Behold, Lord," he said, " the half of my goods I give to the poor, and if I have wronged any man of anything, I restore him fourfold." Jesus said to him: "This day is salvation come to this house. For the Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost."
Here was the absolution.

Next morning our Lord set out again on His way, "a very great multitude " going before, following, thronging Him as before. Blind Bartimeus, the beggar, sat by the wayside, and, hearing the tramping past of many feet, he asked what it meant, and was told that Jestis of Nazareth was passing by. An intense desire to recover his sight sprang up within him:

"Jesus, Son of David!"  he cried, "have mercy on me!" And many rebuked him that he might hold his peace, but he cried a great deal more: "Son of David, have mercy on me!" And Jesus standing still commanded him to be called. The people were kinder then: "Be of better comfort," they said, " arise, He calleth thee." He leaped up, cast aside his outer garment that he might move the faster, flung out his arms for some one to lead him. And, trembling with hope, came and fell down at our Lord's feet, his hands clasped, his sightless eyes lifted to the face of Jesus.

"What wilt thou that I do for thee ? " Jesus asked. "Rabboni, that I may see !" "Go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole." And immediately he saw and followed Him in the way glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God.

Accompanied by the crowd, our Lord went on to Bethany, where He arrived on Friday, " six days before the Passover," says St. John, for Thursday, when the Paschal lamb was slain, was regarded as the first day of the Festival. With the Twelve He went to the house of His friends, leaving the multitude to go on to Jerusalem. The excitement there was intense, both among rulers and people, for the chief priests had now given commandment that if anyone knew where Jesus of Nazareth was he was to tell them, that they might apprehend Him, On every side inquiries were being made for Him. Standing in the Temple men said to one another:

"What think you that He has not come to the festival day ?" Presently word was brought by the crowds from Jericho that He was at Bethany. At once a great multitude flocked out there, not for Jesus' sake only, but that they might see Lazarus whom He had raised from the dead. Numbers came back believing in Him. Enraged beyond measure at the enthusiasm spreading on every side, the chief priests thought of killing Lazarus also. From this time forward it is these priests who take the lead in all the plots for bringing our Lord to death. The people, in Galilee especially, believed in Him, but the rulers—the Scribes and Pharisees, the ancients, the wealthy Sadducees, the Herodians, the Sanhedrin, and the priests, who had been against Him from the first, were only hardened by His miracles. The resurrection of Lazarus at the very gates of Jerusalem brought their fury to a climax. But nothing could be done as long as He had these huge crowds as a bodyguard. His reputation, then, must be destroyed and the people turned against Him. In and out, then, among the crowds went the rulers stirring the people up against Jesus of Nazareth, declaring in words of fierce indignation that He was a blasphemer, who gave Himself out to be the Son of God, a friend of publicans and sinners, an impostor who pretended to be the Messiah, and would get them all into dreadful trouble with the Romans, as other impostors had done, a dealer with the Evil One, by whose help He cast out devils. The people were puzzled; they saw that all the respectable part of the nation was against Him; they were terrified of the Homans, and they began to waver. This was the state of things in Jerusalem. On Friday and Saturday our Lord remained quietly with His friends at Bethany. They were always glad to have Him under their roof, and now more than ever when others whom He had loved and comforted were afraid to harbour Him or show Him gratitude.

On Saturday evening He was at the house of Simon the Leper, in the same place, and St. John says they made Him a supper there. It was a wealthy home, and everything provided was of the best. Our Lord was in the place of honour, and, as the guests reclined round the tables, every eye turned in wonder and admiration to the calm face of Him who lay there upon His couch, so grave yet so attractive, the Man whom the rulers were hunting to His death. Beside Him was His friend Lazarus, whom He had raised from the dead. The presence of those two made the supper a time of solemn thought; the guests spoke quietly, noise and merriment were felt to be out of place. Martha did the honours and served, more quietly than once before, but eager still, delighted to be near our Lord, to show reverence to Him and His, waiting on the disciples herself that their awkward ways might pass unnoticed, and by her kindness and heartiness making them feel at home.

During the supper Mary came in carrying in an alabaster box a pound of ointment of right spikenard. She anointed the feet of Jesus as before and wiped them with her hair, and, breaking the box, poured it out upon His head, and the house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment. At this Judas, usually so cautious and silent, could not conceal his vexation, and, unmindful both of the reverence due to his Master and of what was becoming in a guest, called out:

"Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence and given to the poor?" "Now he said this," says St. John, " not because he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and, having the purse, carried the things that were put therein." The other disciples, some of them at least, followed his example, and, filled with indignation, said:

"To what purpose is this waste ?" "Let her alone, why do you molest her?" said our Lord. " She hath wrought a good work upon Me. For the poor you have always with you, and whensoever you will you may do them good, but Me you have not always. What she had she hath done; she is come beforehand to anoint My body for the burial. Amen I say to you, wheresoever this Gospel shall be preached in the whole world, that also which she hath done shall be told for a memory of her."

A printable file of this chapter as well as a coloring picture can be found below.

The hatred of our Lord's enemies was growing in intensity day by day. They were now fully resolved upon His death, but they feared the people. And well they might. He had been amongst them now nearly three years, "curing every disease and every infirmity."

Thousands of poor sufferers—demoniacs, lepers, the blind, the paralyzed, the deaf, the dumb, had been made happy by His kind word or His gentle touch. Would the people suffer harm to come near Him? This was the question the rulers asked somewhat anxiously when they met together, priests and scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians, all united for once by their common hatred of Him " who went about doing good." How was His death to be brought about? How, without danger to themselves, could they get Him into their power ? Alas ! there was one at hand ready to help them.

Meantime our Lord, who knew every word spoken in their secret councils, was on His way to Jerusalem. His hour was now nearly come, and He went forth bravely to meet it. St. Mark tells us that He walked so fast, on this His last journey to the Holy City, that the Twelve " were astonished and following Him were afraid." Some vague apprehension of coming trouble frightened them, though they did not understand that the redemption of the world was to be wrought by means of the sufferings and death of which their Master had now so frequently spoken. The Kingdom ! the Kingdom ! this was the cry of their hearts still  The hatred of the rulers was too plainly expressed to be any secret to the people, and many who would have liked to show our Lord gratitude and hospitality were hindered from doing so by their fear of those in power.

No one wanted to get into trouble with the Sanhedrin that formidable council which could pass and carry out any sentence excepting only that of death. There was one house, however, where our Lord was always welcome, one family that counted the happiness of having Him under its roof to be worth any risk and any penalty. Let us make the acquaintance of this blessed family.

To the south-east of Jerusalem, separated from the City by the brook Kedron, lay the Mount of Olives, so called from the number of olive trees with which it was covered. On its eastern side the Mount sloped down to a village about a mile and a half from Jerusalem, named Bethany. Here the sisters Martha and Mary lived with their brother Lazarus, a quiet, happy little household, united by the closest affection, and having as their intimate Friend and frequent Guest the Son of God Himself.

In character the sisters were very different, and each had her own way of entertaining our Blessed Lord. Martha, the mistress of the house, was a practical woman, full of activity and energy. She went here and there seeing herself to all the preparations. No trouble must be spared to make the house look nice; the setting out of the table, the flowers and brightness everywhere, must testify to the heartiness of her welcome and her sense of the honour done to her by His visit.

Of Mary we know something already, for, though it is not certain that she is the same as Mary Magdalen, this is the common opinion. We are not surprised, therefore, to find her sitting at the feet of Jesus, so absorbed by His Presence and conversation as to be unmindful of all beside.

What joy there was in this little home when He was expected! As evening fell the three would go up to the flat roof of the house to watch for the white Figure coming slowly over the brow of the hill, sometimes with the Twelve, sometimes alone. Then they would go out on to the road to meet Him and reverently bring Him within and give Him of their best. Martha never thought she had done enough by way of preparation, and so it was with dismay she found one day that He had come without warning and lovingly taken them by surprise. Things were not ready, and there was no time to provide. However, she set to work with hearty good will, hurrying here and there, and beholding, not without displeasure, Mary seated as usual silent and still at the Master's feet. Could she not see how much there was to do ? It was selfish of her to sit there thinking of her own satisfaction only. So thought poor Martha as she passed and repassed the two sitting apart, and heard the low tones of the Master's voice, and saw Mary's rapt and reverent face. At last she turned round and spoke:

"Master, hast Thou no care that my sister hath left me alone to serve? Speak to her, therefore, that she help me." Our Lord looked up:

"Martha, Martha," He said, " thou art careful and art troubled about many things. But one thing is necessary. Mary hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from her."  He was not displeased; how should He be? He who had noticed the want of hospitality in the house of Simon the Pharisee, could He blame His eager hostess here ? He had watched her loading the table with meats, and fruit, and flowers, and had accepted the love and generosity of her heart. But there was a little too much fret and fuss, and this He gently corrected. She need not have been put out because her sister's way of entertaining the Master was different from her own, and it was almost like blaming His indulgence with Mary to have found fault with her in His Presence. " Martha, Martha!" He repeated her name twice, a mark of great affection, and there was more of love than of rebuke in His tone. Both the sisters were very dear to Him. Martha was something like Peter, an ardent, eager soul, and, as we shall see presently, she has the glory of making her profession of faith in the same words as those at Caesarea, which won for Peter the Headship of the Church.

Now it happened that Lazarus fell ill, and, of course, the first thought of his sisters was to send word to Jesus.

"Lord, behold he whom Thou lovest is sick!" This was the message. No mention that the danger was great, no prayer that He would come quickly. What need for this? He who hastened when a stranger called Him, what would He not do for them! The sick man grew worse and they saw the end must come even before their messenger could reach the Master who was across the Jordan in Perea. But what of that! He knew it all before, and no doubt was even now on His way to them. So, whilst one sat by the deathbed, the other from the roof watched the road for the first sign of His approach.
 
But He did not come, and Lazarus died. Up to the last moment they had hoped, and each time the door opened they had turned to welcome their Lord. Now all was over, and, when that same day, having left their dearly loved brother in his cave sepulchre, they returned to the desolate home, who shall tell the anguish of their hearts!

During the days of mourning they sat upon the ground, their heads veiled, their feet bare, silent and lonely amid the lamentations of the hired mourners and the noise of friends and comforters coming and going. If Jesus is not our Comforter in trouble we are exceedingly sad and desolate as were these poor sisters. People meaning to be kind expressed surprise
at His absence, thought He was such a Friend of theirs who would have been the first to hasten to them in their distress, but of course, He did not know how ill Lazarus was. Every word was agony to the mourners. And they could say nothing in reply. It was indeed strange. But they struggled bravely with temptation and would not let His absence or His silence shake their trust in Him. Then their messenger returned, saying that on hearing of their trouble the Master had merely said the sickness was not unto death, and had turned again to His teaching. They heard and bore their anguish in silence, and trusted still. Now, why did our Lord try them so sorely? The words of St. John sound strange to us: "Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister Mary and Lazarus. When He had heard, therefore, that he was sick, He still remained in the same place two days God's ways are not like ours. But His ways are always best, as we shall see clearly some day.  After two days our Lord said to His disciples:

"Let us go into Judea again." The disciples said to Him: "Rabbi, the Jews but now sought to stone Thee, and goest Thou thither again?" Jesus said to them:

"Lazarus, our friend, sleepeth, but I go that I may awake him out of sleep." His disciples said:

"Lord, if he sleep he shall do well." But Jesus spoke of his death, and they thought He spoke of the repose of sleep. Then Jesus said to them plainly:

"Lazarus is dead, and I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, that you may believe. But let us go to him." Thomas said to his fellow-disciples:

"Let us also go that we may die with Him." Jesus, therefore, came and found that he had been four days already in the grave. And many of the Jews were come to Martha and Mary to comfort them concerning their brother. Martha, therefore, as soon as she heard that Jesus was come, went to meet Him, but Mary sat at home. Martha, therefore, said to Jesus:
 
"Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." It was not lament, still less complaint, only that plaintive word that the sisters had said again and again to one another during those days of watching and waiting. She went on:

"But now also I know that whatsoever Thou wilt ask of God, God will give it Thee." She asks nothing, but holds up her faith and her trust to Him, a silent prayer, to be heard as He shall see best. Jesus saith to her:

"Thy brother shall rise again." Martha saith to Him : "I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day." Jesus said to her:

"I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in Me, although he be dead, shall live. . . . Believest thou this?" She saith to Him: "Yea, Lord, I have believed that Thou art Christ the Son of the living God, who art come into this world." The grand confession of Caesarea Philippi over again! And, when she had said these things, she went and called her sister Mary secretly, saying:

"The Master is come and calleth for thee." She, as soon as she heard this, riseth quickly and cometh to Him. The Jews, therefore, who were with her in the house and comforted her, when they saw Mary that she rose up speedily and went out, followed her, saying:

"She goeth to the grave to weep there." When Mary, therefore, was come where Jesus was, seeing Him, she fell down at His feet and saith to Him: "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." Jesus, therefore, when He saw her weeping, and the Jews that were come with her weeping, groaned in the spirit, and troubled Himself, and said: "Where have you laid him ?" They say to Him:

"Lord, come and see." And Jesus wept. The Jews, therefore, said: "Behold how He loved him." But some of them said: "Could not He that opened the eyes of the man born blind have caused that this man should not die ?" Jesus, therefore, again groaning in Himself, cometh to the sepulchre. Now it was a cave, and a stone was laid over it. Jesus saith:

"Take away the stone." Martha saith to Him: "Lord, by this time he stinketh, for he is now of four days." Jesus saith to her: "Did not I say to thee that if thou believe thou shalt see the glory of God ?" They took, therefore, the stone away. And Jesus, lifting up His eyes, said: "Father, I give Thee thanks that Thou hast heard Me. And I know that Thou heareth Me always, but because of the people that stand about have I said it, that they may believe that Thou hast sent Me." When He had said these things, He cried with a loud voice:

"Lazarus, come forth." And, presently, he that had been dead came forth, bound feet and hands with winding-bands, and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus said to them: " Loose him and let him go." Many, therefore, of the Jews who were come to Mary and Martha, and had seen the things that Jesus did, believed in Him.

We have had the account of this wondrous scene in the words of St. John who saw it. He does not go on to tell us what followed—of the trembling hands that unloosed the graveclothes, of the awe and the thankfulness with which the sisters and their brother fell at the feet of Jesus. But he says that some who witnessed that stupendous miracle went to the Pharisees and told them the things that Jesus had done, and that the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered a council of the Sanhedrists and said:

"What do we, for this Man doth many miracles ? If we let Him alone so all men will believe in Him, and the Romans will come and take away our place and nation." But Caiaphas, being the High Priest of that year, said to them: "You know nothing, neither do you consider that it is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not."

From that day, therefore, they devised to put Him to death. Wherefore Jesus walked no more openly among the Jews, but went to a city called Ephrem, and there abode with His disciples till the time came for His final journey to Jerusalem. He can do no more. He has filled the land with the "signs" demanded of Him. He has fulfilled the prophecies and proved Himself the Promised One who was to be sent. It only remains for Him to show Himself the Man of Sorrows, foretold by the prophets, and, as the High Priest had prophesied—to die for the people.

A printable file of this chapter as well as a coloring picture can be found below.