has hitherto confided only to a few close friends. Against the sanctimoniousness of the Pharisees, against sacrifices and ceremonies, against wealth and in favour of equal division among all? Are not these Jesus' own thoughts, which this new prophet is sealing with the waters of Jordan? Back from the solitude of the desert into touch with the fellow men of whose welfare we must always think; away from the apathy and the fastings of the Essenes with their hole-and-corner existence, back to the multitude; a reformer; a man with a message! Of late, Jesus himself has so often pondered the question, "Why dost thou not stand up to declare before all the world thy thoughts concerning true beliefs and false ones?" What he now hears of John makes the matter urgent. If John, sallying forth from the desert, utters his warnings to the people, why should Jesus any longer keep silence? The example of the Baptist pricks him on, stimulates his sense of responsibility, perhaps awakens his ambition. He joins the next train of pilgrims going down to Jordan. There, where the narrow valley is overhung by limestone hills, along the bank made shaggy with the growth of rushes and of reeds, he draws near, three days later, to the throng of men and women who have come to be baptized. The bare, fissured rocks give the place a sinister look. The air is stifling, for the wind comes from the south, and is tainted with the briny odours of the Dead Sea. A savage and pitiless region! The pilgrims number many hundreds. With them are their horses and their asses, their children, and the goats they have brought to provide milk for the little ones. Poor folk for the most part; many of them old, and many of them sick. Not a happy face among them, though all are filled with longing. They are squatting on the ground, or standing, or on their knees, praying. At the very marge of the river, where there is a flat space, Jesus catches sight of the Baptist. Wearing a ragged cloak (for the thorns have torn it to tatters), John is there; a tall, lean figure, unkempt; and he speaks in menacing tones. He does, in very truth, look like Elijah, the preacher; and all his warnings lead up to the same exhortation, "Repent ye: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Close by stand some who seem to be his disciples. Every now and then, the Baptist takes one aside for a brief space; then leads him down into the river where it shallows, and pours over him a bucketful of the yellowish-grey waters of Jordan. Now there is a stir in the crowd. All turn their faces towards the west to watch some newcomers descending into the valley by the road from Jerusalem. Jesus is one of the first to recognize who they are. They are priests and Levites (Pharisees all), numbering a dozen or more, on the way to see what they can make of the miracle-monger. As they come down among the rocks, they seem uncongenial to the crowd of poor folk on the river bank. In part, no doubt, it is because the townsmen are much better dressed than the multitude, though they have not come in festal attire. Above all, how ever, it is their manner which repels. They look coldly sceptical, for they have been sent to examine into these alleged wondrous happenings within a day's march of the city. A council has been held in Jerusalem. Inquiries must be made. This flocking together of the common people cannot be allowed to continue unheeded. The Baptist is reported to have been railing against property. Pilate has been asking questions. With surly deference, from force of habit, the common herd of pilgrims makes way for the quality, so that the men from Jerusalem are soon face to face with the Baptist. His eyes flash as he encounters their chill scrutiny. When they question him, every answer conveys a challenge, so that almost from the first he seems accuser rather than accused. Meanwhile the encircling pilgrims form an audience. "Who art thou?" asks the eldest of the newcomers. John, who senses the underlying import of the question, gives an answer which is an avowal: "I am not the Christ." "What then, art thou Elijah?” "I am not." "Art thou a prophet?" "No." "Who art thou, then, that we may give an answer to them that sent us? What sayest thou of thyself?" There is a pause, tense with expectation. As yet the Baptist has not let his voice ring out. Jesus, who is one of the circle of onlookers, feels that John will thunder the next answer, and like thunder it comes: |