John 4
MorJohn 4:1-54
The Gospel According to John John 4:1-42 John 4:1-42. In this paragraph no specific sign is recorded either in the realm of works, or of words. Nevertheless it has profound significance in John’s account of the ministry of our Lord. The chief interest of the story is Samaria. To put the whole matter into a sentence by way of introduction, our Lord is seen crossing the boundary line of prejudice, and supposed privilege, as He went through Samaria. Jews, says John in a comment, have no dealings with Samaritans, but this Jew went through Samaria. The section has three movements. In the first four verses (John 4:1-4), we have the occasion of His journey; in verses five to twenty-six John 4:5-26), His conversation with the woman; and in verses twenty-seven to forty-two (John 4:47-42), the things issuing therefrom, the results that were immediate.
Let us first carefully look at what John tells us about the occasion. He says, “When therefore the Lord knew.” Something that He knew, accounted for this particular journey. What was it? “That the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John.” Then “He left Judζa, and departed again into Galilee. And He must needs pass through Samaria.” The statements are so sun-clear that one need not tarry with them long, yet it is well to look at them. First of all, the Lord knew that the account of His success was reaching the Pharisees. Quite evidently remarkable success was attending that ministry of Jesus, which we were considering in our last study as collateral with that of John.
That success was evidenced by the fear expressed by John’s disciples when they said, “All men go after Him.” The account of this success was now reaching the Pharisees. On that account, He left Judζa. The implicate is quite self-evident, that this knowledge was precipitating conflict between Himself and the Pharisees. Already we have seen how in connection with His second sign,-His first in the Temple, when He cleansed it,-that He came into conflict with them. Now news came to these men, that the One Whose action in the Temple had raised their objection, was marvellously successful in His ministry, even more so than John. The Lord knew that this would mean conflict; and on that account He left Judζa.
Again notice, “He left Judζa.” The word here translated “left” is a singularly strong word, not occurring anywhere else. It marks a definite and intentional break. We should not misinterpret the thought if we said He abandoned Judζa. He did go back, but very seldom. He had been to Judζa. He had gone to the Temple. He had exercised His ministry in the surrounding country with marvellous success; but hostility was stirring there, and He left Judζa; He broke with it.
This brings us to the arresting statement; “He must needs go through Samaria.” Why “must”? That is a very old question, and all sorts of answers have been given, all of them more or less correct. Let us consider it simply.
If we did not know anything about the times in which our Lord lived, and we looked at the map, the answer to the question would be quite easy; Judζa was in the south, Galilee in the north, and Samaria lay between. It was the direct road. “He must needs pass through Samaria.”
Yes, but that was not the usual road, for the Jew. Those of Judζa practically never travelled to Galilee through Samaria. “Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.” It is a very significant statement. Those of proud Judζa, held Samaria almost in abhorrence, and if they had to go to Galilee, they generally crossed the Jordan, travelled up through Perζa, and entered Galilee that way. But “He must needs go through Samaria.”
Geographically it was the straight way, but it was not the usual way; and I do not think we can escape from the conviction that the “must” means that He was making His protest against the false reason for the usual way, and so refusing to take it; and in doing so, He was, by this very action, in the moment when Judζa was refusing Him, and Jerusalem was rising against Him, indicating the universality of His Messianic mission. “He must needs pass through Samaria.”
The “must” may be geographical, but I think it has a deeper note. Instead of taking the road of the Judζan, He chose the road they did not take, as a protest against their reason for not taking it, and a protest against their prejudice and pride; and an indication of the inclusiveness of His Messiahship.
He arrived, John tells us, “He cometh to a city of Samaria, called Sychar, near to the parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph; and Jacob’s well was there.” So it reads in the Authorized; so it reads in our Revisions; “Jacob’s well was there.” In the margin of the Revisions this note is found; “Greek, spring.” There is a remarkable distinction between a “spring” and a “well.” When the woman talked about it she did not say “spring.” She said “well.” When Jesus presently spoke of the water that He should give, He did not say “well,” He said “spring.” The difference between a spring and a well is that a spring is a source of living water, that is, water that is always coming and bubbling up; and a well is a hole in which stagnant water is kept. “ Jesus therefore, being wearied with His journey, sat thus by the spring. It was about the sixth hour."
That story of the parcel of ground that Jacob had given to Joseph, is found in the Old Testament. Jacob bought it. He gave it to Joseph. Presently Joseph was buried there. There Jesus arrived, weary; and it was the sixth hour. There are differences of opinion as to whether John in his Gospel used the Hebrew reckoning of time, or the Roman.
I leave it. It is an open discussion. It is not vital. I personally believe that he used the Roman time, which means that this was six o’clock in the evening. There had been the long journey from Judζa to Sychar, and He was tired. Do not let us miss these revealing touches. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . .
And the Word became flesh,” and travelled from Judζa through Samaria until He came to Sychar, and was tired. God incarnate experiencing the limitations of human life.
Now we have these verses, seven to twenty-five, and the way in which we will glance at them is that of following the dialogue. That dialogue is clearly marked in the repetition of the sentences, “Jesus saith . . . the woman saith.” Jesus opened the conversation; Jesus closed the conversation. He opened the conversation by asking a favour on the human level. He closed it by the supreme claim to Messiahship, “I that speak unto thee am He.” Between that opening human request, and that final august statement of claim, we have the record of the conversation.
He opened the conversation with a request on the human level, the level of His own human necessity. He asked her to give Him to drink. He knew her. He knew all about her. The sequel proves it. He knew her past history; He knew her present life; nevertheless He began by asking her to do Him a favour. That in itself is arresting and revealing. Some people would not have asked a favour of such a woman. In that measure they are unlike their Master. He gained admission to the soul of a sinning woman, by asking her to do Him a favour.
In her reply there was nothing of respect. An old Puritan commentator says it was a woman’s pertness; “How is it, that Thou, being a Jew, askest a favour of me, which am a Samaritan woman?” Perhaps it was pertness, but I think it was more. I think it was astonishment. She knew that “Jews have no dealings with Samaritans”; and I think she was surprised to see a Jew in that neighbourhood at all. She was more surprised that He, a Jew evidently, a Jew perhaps by the very form and fashion of His countenance, and certainly by His dress, should ask a favour of a Samaritan woman. But there was no title of respect, in her first question. It was curiosity, astonishment; perchance astonishment expressing itself as the Puritan divine said, in pertness.
Then our Lord said to that woman that remarkable thing; “If thou knewest the gift of God, and Who it is that saith to thee, Give Me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of Him, and He would have given thee living water.” This was a suggested offer. He has asked a favour. I wonder if she ever gave Him a drink. I do not know. I do not think she did, because I read presently, “She left her waterpot.” I do not think she had filled it. But whether she responded or not, whether her astonishment halted her in responding or not; He came straight to the central spiritual need of the woman, as He made a suggested offer of living water.
She replied, and there was evidently something about that word of Jesus, that took away the pertness, if pertness it was. The casual, ordinary manner of her speech at first, the speech of a stranger to a stranger, ended. She said, “Sir.” It was a word of respect, “Sir, Thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep; from whence then hast Thou that living water? Art Thou greater than our father Jacob, which gave us the well, and drank thereof himself, and his sons, and his cattle?”
In that reply there was incredulity, and yet wonder. Her curiosity had been aroused, and she wondered what He meant. She was confused in her thinking. She could not understand how He could give her living water. But evidently the phrase “living water” arrested her. She went back to the history of her people, and said; “Art Thou greater than our father Jacob, which gave us this well?” I do not think there was anything very clear in her apprehension; but she was arrested. She spoke to Him with respect, but there was incredulity in her mind, and yet she was wondering, “Art Thou greater?”
Then He answered her, “Everyone that drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a spring of water, bubbling up unto eternal life.” He thus interpreted His meaning to her, not perfectly, but suggestively. He had first said He was able to give water, and that if she had known Who He was, she would have asked water from Him. But said she, How can You get it? The well is deep, and You have nothing to draw with? Art Thou greater than Jacob? To which He replied that the water He would give would be water which would spring up in her own life. He was indicating to her that His intention was a spiritual intention.
Now listen to her. “Sir”-still respectful,-“Give me this water, that I thirst hot, neither come all the way hither to draw.” Mark the confusion in her thinking. The first part of her word to Him was a recognition of the fact of the dissatisfaction at the core of her personality. “Give me this water that I thirst not.” Then, “neither come all the way hither to draw.” She was confused. She had caught something of the spiritual significance of what He had said, “Give me this water that I thirst not”; but continuing, “neither come all the way hither to draw,” she swung back to the material. She had grasped something of the significance of what He had said, and then there was a reaction of perplexity. First, “Give me this water that I thirst not.”
I do not think that I am doing any violence to the story if I suggest that if she had said all she thought at that moment, it might have been,-Never thirst? How thirsty I am, how disillusioned I am, how disappointed I am, how restless I am. Give me this water that I thirst not; but perhaps He does not mean anything of that sort. Then give me something to prevent this toilsome journey in order to draw. Now, “Give me this water, that I thirst not,” was the sigh, the sob of a discontented, disappointed, thirsty woman.
How did He reply? “Go, call thy husband.” Why that? If she was to have that well of water springing up in her, there must first be moral investigation and correction. She had said, Give me this water. In effect He said, I hear the cry of your soul for this water. I have this water to give, but there is something in your life that has first, to be set right. “Go, call they husband.”
Immediately she was evasive, when He touched the moral realm. “I have no husband.” It was a sort of supercilious dismissal. She used no title of respect now, but bluntly said, “I have no husband,” as though she would say, I am an emancipated woman; I want no interference. But the Lord had not done with her. Very beautifully, He continued. There was nothing contemptuous or bitter in what He said, but the simple statement of facts. That is quite true; you have had five; and the man you are living with now is not your husband. He had thus invaded the moral realm, and torn the mask away, that she was proposing to fling over the story by her evasion. That little sentence, “I have no husband” was an evasion, an intended dismissal of the question. It meant, That is none of Your business; what Is that to do with You? To which the Lord replied, You cannot hide from Me. I know all about you.
Now watch her next word, “Sir, I perceive that Thou art a prophet.” The term of respect was again employed, and more. Her words proved conviction, and constituted a tacit confession. A moment ago there was evasion. Now there was admission. “Sir, I perceive that Thou art a prophet,” which meant. You evidently know all.
Then listen, “Our fathers worshipped in this mountain; and ye say, that in Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship.” She had been unmasked. She had been compelled to own up; and then she adopted a method that is very constantly adopted. She tried to evade the issue once more, by raising a theological discussion. And yet was there not something more in it than that? Had there not come up out of her life the question which had often puzzled her in her girlhood and young womanhood? I have been brought up here. I belong here. All my people, my father’s people, have said Gerizim is the place for worship; but you Jews say Jerusalem. Which is right? It was a very vital question.
The marvellous thing is the way in which Jesus answered. He consented to enter into her discussion. He told her first of all the Samaritans were still in ignorance of the worship of God. The Jew was the one who did know the truth about worship, and through the Jew had come salvation. But then He went right on, and said to her that marvellous thing, “Woman, believe Me, the hour cometh, when neither in this mountain”-Gerizim; “nor in Jerusalem, shall ye worship the Father”; and, “The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and truth; for such doth the Father seek to be His worshippers. God is Spirit; and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and truth.”
Thus He answered her, in statements so profound that sometimes I think we hardly yet grasp their significance. He revealed the fact that there is no value in Mount Gerizim; there is no value in Jerusalem, apart from reality and spiritual intention. The hour cometh and now is, when they that worship God, worship in spirit and truth. It is not a question of locality in worship. Moreover it is not a question of intellect merely. To worship, men must get down to the deepest thing in their personality, spirit and truth.
There must be honesty; there must be reality. As though He had said to her, I have been trying to help you there, by tearing off the mask, and compelling you to face your own hfe. If you are prepared to do that, you need not discuss locations. Gerizim is nothing; Jerusalem is nothing; spirit and truth are everything.
And then she said; “I know that Messiah cometh . . . when He is come, He will declare unto us all things,” and He replied in the final claim, “I that speak unto thee am He.”
The story reveals a woman with a remarkable religious background. She spoke of “Our father, Jacob.” Most probably she had not referred to that relationship for years, but it recurred in the presence of Jesus. Then presently she revealed the fact of the hope of her people in which she had been trained; the coming of Messiah. As our Lord dealt with her, we observe first her almost flippant address; then there came respect, and a recognition of a Man of God, a prophet. Presently we find her not affirming, but out of a sincere soul asking, “Can this be the Christ?”
The last movement in this section reveals the issues of this Samaritan visit. First the effect on the disciples. They came back. They were astonished to see Him talking to a woman; for remember according to Jewish law, no Rabbi must ever hold conversation with a woman alone. He was doing it. He was always trampling upon the foolish traditional conventionalities that were blasting human life. However, though they were astonished, they kept silence I It is a great gift that of silence!
Think of that day again, and so understand their concern about Him. The long journey, eventide, a tired Master and thirsty. They knew He ought to be hungry. Rabbi, they said, Eat. Then He revealed His heart. “I have meat to eat that ye know not. . . . My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to accomplish His work.” May we not with very great reverence say, It is as though Jesus had said: There are times when the physical does not count at all.
There is a hunger deeper than the physical; and there is bread that will satisfy that; and I have been having that bread. What was that doing of the will of God? Dealing with that human soul, leading that woman into the light. Perfect sustenance for His whole life for the time being was found in the wooing and the winning of a sinning woman.
Then He looked at them, and He said, You say four months, and then cometh harvest. He was still thinking in the realm of the spiritual. “Behold, I say unto you, lift up your eyes, and look on the fields, that they are white already unto harvest.” Now in a few brief sentences let us get the sense of that. If those disciples had been appointed a commission of enquiry as to the possibilities of Christian enterprise in Samaria I know exactly the resolution they would have passed. The resolution would have been; Samaria unquestionably needs our Master’s message, but it is not ready for it. There must first be ploughing, then sowing, and then waiting. It is needy, but it is not ready.
That is exactly what He said, “Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then.” Four months meant ploughing and sowing, and waiting. But He said, You are wrong. These fields “are white already unto harvest.” The region that looks most hopeless is ready if you will reap.
To-day we speak of some field as difficult, and almost hopeless. Christ still says that such fields are white to harvest. The most difficult fields are white to harvest. Our business is to put in the sickle, and reap.
He said the same thing on another occasion. When He saw the multitudes distressed and scattered, He was moved with compassion, and He called His disciples and said, “Harvest!” The trouble is not that the fields are not white. The trouble is that the labourers are not ready.
Then we return to the woman and the Samaritans. The woman had left her waterpot. She forgot all about it. She did not get her water. She went. Something had happened to her, a revolution. She had come face to face with a Jew that was a prophet and possibly the Messiah. She left her waterpot, and she went to the men of the city, and she said, “Come, see a Man, which told me all things that ever I did; can this be the Christ?” They were evidently impressed, because they came with her, back to Jesus. Then I do not quite know what He said to them, but it so impressed them that they begged Him to stay with them, and He stayed two whole days.
Then listen to them! John tells us, “They believed on Him because of the word of the woman.” Then presently they said, “Now we believe, not because of thy speaking; for we have heard for ourselves.” They had believed because of her word, but now they had got beyond that, they had heard Him. Belief on her testimony brought them to enquire; and the result was they believed on His word.
Then it was in Samaria that He was given that full and final title, “The Saviour of the world.” He crossed the boundary line of prejudice. He left the region that boasted in its privilege; and in the region outside. He had found a human soul, and she a sinning woman, who had burnt out her life until only the ashes were left; and had opened to her the way to God for worship, by dealing with her moral nature, and satisfying her spiritual thirst. He had seen the fields white to harvest, and had gathered that sheaf. And so, right there in Samaria, it was that they said, “The Saviour of the world.”
John 4:43-54. After the two days’ sojourn in Samaria, the Lord completed His journey to Galilee. John tells us that “After the two days He went forth from thence into Galilee. For Jesus Himself testified, that a prophet hath no honour in his own country.” That links the story with what we have at the beginning of chapter four. “When therefore the Lord knew how that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John, He departed again into Galilee.” Then came the Samaritan interlude. Now, taking the story up again, “After the two days, He went forth from thence into Galilee.” In other words, He completed His journey, and arrived at the destination for which He started when He left Judζa.
The parenthesis of John here is arresting; “Jesus Himself testified, that a prophet hath no honour in his own country.” Admittedly that statement is a little difficult. What does John mean there by “His own country”? There are differing opinions. There are those who say that it meant Galilee. In Galilee He had been brought up. In Galilee was the town which He made the basis of His operations, Capernaum.
But I think that is hardly tenable when we notice what immediately follows. “Jesus Himself testified that a prophet hath no honour in his own country. So when He came into Galilee, the Galileans received Him.” I do not think it is possible to understand the reference to be to Galilee. I think Origen was right that the reference is to Judζa. Judζa was the country of His birth and registration (Luke 2:4). He was of the tribe of Judah after the flesh. Judζa was peopled largely by the people of the tribes of Judah and Benjamin.
In the returns from captivity, remnants of all the tribes went back, a great admixture. Still Benjamin and Judah were the predominant tribes; and our Lord, in that sense, belonged to Judah. " His own country " was surely Judζa.
The sequence in the ministry of Jesus is patent. He had been in the capital city, the city of the great king, Jerusalem; and there we are told, “Many believed on His name, beholding the signs which He did.” But He did not believe in them. He knew that their attitude of supposed acceptance of Him was superficial, the result of that which was spectacular only. He could not trust them. He could not commit Himself to them. Then He had left Jerusalem, and gone into Judζa itself, and carried on a ministry there.
Now, in the fourth chapter and the third verse we read, “He left Judζa, and departed again into Galilee. The word employed there for “departed” as we saw, is a singularly strong one, meaning that He broke with Judζa. That does not mean that He never went back. He did. But He had not been received either in the city or the country in any way other than the superficial. By this time He had a group of disciples.
He had not yet elected apostles. He did so eventually; among them He elected those who were in this first group. It is surely significant that not one of the apostles came from Judζa. They were all from the district despised by Judζans. When presently Saul was found, and called to the apostolate, he was not from Judζa. He was born in Tarsus.
Judζa had refused Him, and now, after the two days’ sojourn in Samaria, He continued His journey; and He arrived in Galilee, because the Prophet was not in honour in His own country.
John emphasized the contrast between the attitude in Judζa, and that in Galilee. “When He came into Galilee, the Galileans received Him.” Why? “Having seen all the things that He did in Jerusalem at the feast.” Mark the force of the next statement, “For they also went unto the feast.” John meant to show that if the Galileans were not Judζans, they were not alienated from the religion of Israel; “they also went to the feast.” These Galileans in Jerusalem had seen what He had done there, and they travelled back. Before the Lord arrived, they had spread the news of the things they had seen, and so they welcomed Him. Later He broke with Galilee also. It was Judζa which first practically refused Him. So He withdrew from the superficiality of her crowds, and the crass ignorance and hostility of her rulers; and turned to Galilee. At the beginning they welcomed Him.
It was in Galilee that He wrought the third sign. John says, “this is again the second sign that Jesus did, having come out of Judζa into Galilee.” In the sequence of his selection this is the third sign, but the second in Galilee.
The story in some senses, is not so spectacular or pictorial as the turning of water into wine, or the cleansing of the Temple. In other senses it is one of the most remarkable.
The occasion of the working of this sign was the appeal of a father, who is called in our translations a “nobleman.” The Greek word Basilikos means a king’s man. The term simply means an officer in the court of a king. This man was an officer in the service of Herod the tetrarch. We really do not know who he was. There have been very interesting suggestions made. Some have suggested this was Chusa, Herod’s steward. Others have suggested that he was Manaen, Herod’s foster brother.
This man, when he heard that Jesus had come out of Judζa into Galilee, “went unto Him, and besought Him that He would come down, and heal his son, for he was at the point of death.” It was the appeal of agony, made by a father. His boy was at the point of death, and he came to Jesus, and asked Him to go down and heal him.
At that point in this story we arrive at an amazing thing. “Jesus said unto him, Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will in no wise believe.” We are inevitably startled that Jesus should answer in that way to such a cry as came from that man’s heart. It is a very revealing matter. The man came to Jesus in his agony and besought Him-mark the force of it,-“besought Him that He would come down, and heal his son, for he was at the point of death.” Jesus said, “Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will in no wise believe.”
Notice first that our Lord addressed him in the plural number. He did not say, Thou, except thou shalt see; He said “Ye.” He addressed him as one of a crowd. He classified him as among the ordinary and common crowd which our Lord was facing in His ministry, whether in Judζa, or in Galilee. What was true in Judζa, that there was a confidence in Him, to which He could not commit Himself, was equally true in Galilee. Let me here run ahead of my story, and say that our Lord meant to answer the cry of that agony. He could not refuse, being Who He was.
But He had purposes deeper than the comfort of sorrow, even of such sorrow as that. He was dealing with a man in the actuality of the deep necessity of his individuality. And so as a surgeon plunges a knife, He said in effect, You have come to Me in your agony; but you are only one of a crowd. “Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will in no wise believe.” That is the truth about you in common with others. That is what you are all looking for; and though you have come to Me about your boy, why have you come to Me? Because you have heard that I am performing signs and wonders, and you hope to get something out of it. It was severe, but He was dealing with the whole man.
He lay bare the underlying truth about him as He classified him with the crowd. Agony had driven him to Jesus. He will deal with that presently; He will heal the boy; but He will first deal with the man.
What next? “The nobleman saith unto Him, Sir, come down ere my child die.” We cannot tell how far that rebuke of Jesus had really reached him and found him at this point; but his reply is very remarkable in that he did not deny the charge Jesus had made against him that he was looking for signs and wonders. Indeed, he admitted it, for he said, “Come down ere my child die.” There was no consciousness in his soul that it was possible for Christ to deal with that boy unless He was there. He was looking for the material, and the touch. He had believed that if only Jesus were there, He could do something, because he had heard of what He had done. So out of the anguish of his heart, he said, “Sir, come down, ere my child die.” It was as though he had said, Whether I want to see signs or wonders does not count; I want my boy healed, and that can only be if Thou art there. Thus he was tacitly admitting the truth of what Jesus had said. But he asked for help, and flung himself out on the power of Jesus, not understanding.
Then Jesus spoke again; “Go thy way; thy son liveth.” That was all. Observe what that meant. He gave him no sign; and He did not do what he asked Him to do, which would have satisfied his feeling that there was a necessity for something spectacular. The man said, “Come down.” Jesus replied practically: I am not coming. I am not going to act in the way you think necessary. But I will give you the help you seek. “Go, . . . thy son liveth.” He gave him no sign, but He created an opportunity for the exercise of a faith which lacked a sign. Christ said in effect: I will not give you a sign; I will give you a word. You will get your sign after your faith operates.
Then we read: “The man believed the word that Jesus spake unto him, and he went his way.” What made him believe? Perchance I cannot tell you dogmatically; and yet I think I know quite well. There was something in the tone of that voice, something in the glance of that eye, something in the majesty and beauty of that face, that made that man say. Well, I do not know how it is going to be done, but I believe Him, He says my boy lives. He believed, and went his way.
Here let us pause and take a backward glance. They believed in Jerusalem because they saw the signs, and He could not commit Himself to them. In Samaria they said at last to the woman, Now we believe, not because of your testimony ; we have heard Him, we have heard His word, and believe. Now we have the same thing again, “He believed the word Jesus spake.”
The sign itself was the healing of the boy. At the hour in which Jesus spoke the boy was healed, at a distance. There were at least between twenty and thirty miles separating Capernaum from Cana. At the moment of the word of Jesus distance was annihilated; the boy was healed.
When the father arrived, his servants met him. They told him “that his son lived.” That is exactly what Jesus had said; " Thy son liveth.” He went without any evidence other than the word of Jesus; and as he arrived, the servants of his household met him, and practically repeated what Jesus had said. He had said it with authority, and the man had believed His word, not understanding. Now the servants stated it as an actual accomplishment, Thy son liveth.
The man is perfectly honest. He is going to enquire, to investigate. This is the time to investigate, when the thing has happened. “He enquired of them the hour when he began to amend.” In his question the weakness of his understanding is revealed. He could not imagine that the boy he had left at the point of death could have become well immediately. He enquired when he began to amend. They told him that he did not begin to amend at all.
He was well straightway, “Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him.” Suddenly the boy was well. At what hour? The seventh. The man at once saw the synchronizing of the word of Jesus twenty miles away with a fact in his home. Thy son liveth, at the seventh hour Jesus said that; and twenty miles away, the fever left him, the burning heat passed, and the boy was well. “The father knew that it was at that hour in which Jesus said unto him, Thy son liveth; and himself believed, and his whole house.” Thus this man won to the highest realm of belief. First of all there was the feeling, which amounted to belief, that this wonderful Prophet Who had now come out of Judζa into Galilee, could do something for his boy, when nobody else could. Christ searched him with amazing severity, unmasking the deepest fact in his life. Then He created for htm the opportunity for the exercise of faith without a sign. The man saw something in that face, and heard something in that tone, which made him say, I believe that. Then he started, and yet he halted, when he arrived; What were the signs?
When did he begin to amend? The reply was that there was no process but immediateness; the fever left him ; and it was at the seventh hour. Then the full significance broke upon him, and he went over, the whole of his personality, to Jesus; and not he alone, but all his household.
The first sign recorded by John was wrought in the realm of creation and joy, at the wedding feast, when He turned the water into wine. The second was wrought in the realm of worship, when He went into the Temple and cleansed it. Now in the third, power is seen operating in the realm of disease and sorrow.
In this sign then we have first of all a revelation of absolute power. We use the word supernatural. I am not objecting to it, if it be rightly apprehended. As a matter of fact, however, what we call supernatural, is only super-understandable. All this was perfectly natural to One Who like Jesus, lived in unbroken fellowship with God, so that God could operate through Him, as He could not through others. All the signs which we call miracles, are demonstrations, not of Christ’s Deity.
The demonstration of that is found rather in His words. As Peter put it on the day of Pentecost, He was “a Man, approved of God unto you by powers and wonders and signs which God wrought through Him in the midst of you.” God was operating through Him. Once we recognize that “power belongeth unto God,” there is no difficulty at all. In this sign there was a revelation of God’s absolute power, healing in a moment at a distance, without contact. Should it seem an incredible thing with you, with any man, with any woman, that there can be healing at a distance, when God is at work, without contact; if we can listen to someone talking from the other side of the world to-day without any visible contact at all? It is too late in the day to attempt to laugh the supernatural out of court.
And yet, in the working of this sign, there was a revelation of difficulty, the difficulty of God. “Except ye see signs and wonders ye will not believe.” Something spectacular is a wrong basis for faith. In the last hours, Jesus looked into the eyes of His disciples and said, “Believe Me that I am in the Father, and the Father in Me; or else believe Me for the very works’ sake.” The works are secondary line of proof; Himself is the supreme line of proof.
And what a revelation is here of His infinite compassion, and His infinite patience. If a man wants a sign, and is seeking for it, well, Christ will give it to him; but He will make it possible by a word, for him to exercise faith before he gets the sign.
Here also is a revelation of method. “Go thy way, thy son liveth,” a word of command, no evidence; but when that command is obeyed, the evidence comes in the healing of the boy.
And so as one stands back, and looks at this third sign. the things that impress one are these: the severity of our Lord in the presence of some weakness of the human soul; the authority of our Lord by which He appeals even to that weak soul, and gives him an opportunity; the victory of our Lord in which He so spoke that the man obeyed; and at last the man was won, with all his household.
