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« on: December 13, 2012, 04:25:31 PM » |
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"Now there was leaning on Jesus' bosom, one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved." John 13:23
The Evangelists rarely speak of themselves by name. When recording events in which they were actors — they used some descriptive epithet or allusion, sufficiently clear to indicate who was meant, without so openly naming themselves as to be chargeable with egotism. John especially, except when others as well as himself are concerned, never mentions his own name; but the veil which he throws over himself by his allusive sentences is so transparent, that, while it enhances our ideas of his modesty, it does not so conceal him as to prevent our recognizing his features and calling him by name.
The apostle had been describing the scene which took place at the Last Supper, after the declaration of our Lord, "One of you shall betray me." Startled, anxious, distrustful, at such unexpected words, the amazed disciples eagerly put to their Lord the question, "Is it I? Is it I?" To ascertain more definitely who it was, Peter beckoned to the disciple nearest to Jesus, and who was then leaning on his bosom, to inquire "Who it is of whom he spoke?" This he did, and received such a reply as designated the betrayer, and satisfied their minds. It is in the description of this momentary excitement that the text occurs. Internal evidence, as well as universal consent, point to John as the one to whom these words refer, who, from this circumstance, is generally called "the Beloved Disciple."
The eating customs of the East, were widely different from our own. The usual form of the table was that of three sides of a square, surrounded by couches, upon which the person reclined on his left arm, his feet being stretched toward the wall, and his right hand being free to reach toward the table. In such a recumbent posture as this, it would be very easy for one by gently relaxing his left arm, to lean back upon the bosom of the one next to him, as was often done in token of intimacy and affection.
John, occupying a place next to Jesus, was thus enabled to lean upon his bosom; and as it was, perhaps, a privileged place accorded to him — it may be for his gentler and more loving nature — he avails himself of the gracious permission to designate himself as the one "leaning on Jesus' bosom." And, as thus privileged, he also styled himself "the disciple whom Jesus loved;" for he only, so far as we know, of all the disciples, ever laid his head on Jesus' bosom. It was surely a peculiar honor, one well worthy of note and transmission from age to age; nor is there, in its being recorded, any undue praising of himself; for that he pre-eminently loved the Savior, and was pre-eminently loved by him — is evident from the fact that John alone, of all the disciples, stood by his cross, and to his loving care, Jesus committed the charge of his weeping mother.
Happy disciple! thus to lean upon the bosom of "God manifest in the flesh;" thus to feel beneath his head — the beatings of that Divine heart which compassed the world in its infinite love! We would have lacked one touching evidence of the Savior's gracious condescension to man, and one lovely lineament in the features of John himself — had this little incident been left out. It is full of meaning in itself — as an act of sacred friendship. It is suggestive of precious thoughts — as illustrative of the intimacy which Jesus permits. It reveals the human loveliness of Christ in a clear light, and draws his disciples to him with a winning sympathy which would never have been felt — had not John told us, "Now there was leaning on his bosom, one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved."
Our Lord no more walks in our midst, or reclines with us at the table. On his human form — the eye cannot gaze, nor the head rest. But are we then excluded from his bosom? Is there no such thing as leaning now on Jesus' bosom? Was it reserved for John alone — to feel the pressure of that beating heart? Can no one else pillow his head upon that sacred bosom? We cannot, indeed, in bodily form, approach his body; but we have even closer access than the beloved disciple; we are privileged with being brought into living contact with the throbbing heart of Christ — so that the pulses of his love are made to circulate in the channels of our own affections, and the warmth of his soul imparts a glowing vitality to ours!
What is it, then, at this day — to lean on Jesus' bosom?
We speak of the bosom of man, as being filled with noble feelings; or of man, as cherishing in his bosom, sentiments of hate and revenge. We speak of a generous bosom — palpitating with benevolence; or an unfeeling bosom — shut up and indurated in its sympathetic emotions. We use this language, because the heart has its seat in the bosom; and as the heart, in the physical system, is the center of animal life — the ever-welling up and distributing fountain of the vital currents; so, by a figure of speech, when we would speak of the moral center of man, the well-spring of moral emotions — we use the term heart, and say, his heart is right or wrong, his heart is generous or closed, his heart is renewed or unsanctified. Hence, to lean upon the bosom, the outer casement of the heart — is equivalent to saying that the person leans upon the love and sympathy of that individual.
To lean upon Jesus' bosom, then, is to bring our hearts into living, feeling contact with the heart of Christ. His love emanates from his heart — and hence he who rests upon his bosom — rests upon his love. The feeling of confidence in human affection is one of the most precious emotions of which we are capable. To know that one heart truly, fondly, unfalteringly loves us; to know that we can rest upon that love in the assured conviction that it will never decrease, never waver, but rather grow and strengthen — is a knowledge of priceless value to the sensitive and the refined.
In leaning upon the heart of Jesus, the Christian can have this confidence and certainty to a degree impossible among men. His heart is an organ of infinite love. He who trusts to it — leans upon its Divine impulses; and the nearer we are brought in contact with it — the more are we ravished by its love, and buoyed up and strengthened by its more than reciprocated affection.
But we need sympathy, as well as love from Christ; and in leaning upon Jesus' bosom — we lean upon the place whence his sympathies flow. There are . . .
daily trials,
ever recurring temptations,
fretting cares,
distressing infirmities —
in which we seek not only support, but sympathy. It is comforting to know, if you are in trouble or affliction, that you are sympathized with; and a kind look, a soothing word, a consoling sentence, a dropping tear — will do much towards invigorating the soul, and bringing hack hope and peace.
Our blessed Savior is eminently sympathetic. None ever felt so deeply for the sorrows and sufferings of the world. None ever understood so thoroughly — the needs and straits of humanity. None ever knew so profoundly — the springs of human thought and action. He felt for sickness and affliction wherever seen. He wept at the grave of Lazarus — and over Jerusalem. He was filled with compassion for the widow of Nain, for the Syro-Phoenician mother, and for the hungry multitudes deprived of bread.
Every day drew largely upon his sympathies — yet they were as exhaustless as his divinity; and hence, every day he poured them forth freely upon the children of need and sorrow. Nor is the Savior less sympathizing now, that he has ascended into Heaven. He is still "touched with the feeling of our infirmities," and still ministers his support and compassion to us.
The Christian needs and must have this Divine sympathy. He cannot bear alone . . .
the temptations of his own heart,
the risings up of indwelling sin, or
the assaults of outward spiritual foes.
There are seasons . . .
of deep depression;
of trembling anxiety;
of hesitation as to what is duty;
of exhausting conflict with the tempter —
when the soul craves sympathy with our great High Priest, and when, failing to get it, it faints beneath its load.
But if we lean on Jesus' bosom — we shall always have his sympathies; for we lean upon the bosom beneath which all his sympathies flow out. We shall feel his compassion, and rejoice in his support — just in proportion as we keep near the fountain whence they rise and run.
There is something else, however, that we need beside the love of Christ, and the sympathy of Christ. It is an intelligent understanding of the doctrine of Christ. And this we can get only as we more trustingly lean upon his heart, for he himself has declared, "out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks." |
