Jesus the Son of Man（英语完整板）

Bernhardt

Bartholomew in Ephesus
On Slaves and Outcasts

THE ENEMIES OF Jesus say that He addressed His appeal to slaves and outcasts, and would have incited them against their lords. They say that because He was of the lowly He invoked His own kind, yet that He sought to conceal His own origin.
But let us consider the followers of Jesus, and His leadership.
In the beginning He chose for companions few men from the North Country, and they were freemen. They were strong of body and bold of spirit, and in these past twoscore years they have had the courage to face death with willingness and defiance.
Think you that these men were slaves or outcasts?
And think you that the proud princes of Lebanon and Armenia have forgotten their station in accepting Jesus as a prophet of God?
Or think you the high-born men and women of Antioch and Byzantium and Athens and Rome could be held by the voice of a leader of slaves?
Nay, the Nazarene was not with the servant against his master; neither was He with the master against his servant. He was with no man against another man.
He was a man above men, and the streams that ran in His sinews sang together with passion and with might.
If nobility lies in being protective, He was the noblest of all men. If freedom is in thought and word and action, He was the freest of all men. If high birth is in pride that yields only to love and in aloofness that is ever gentle and gracious, then He was of all men the highest born.
Forget not that only the strong and the swift shall win the race and the laurels, and that Jesus was crowned by those who loved Him, and also by His enemies though they knew it not.
Even now He is crowned every day by the priestesses of Artemis in the secret places of her temple.

Bernhardt

Matthew
On Jesus by the Prison Wall

UPON AN EVENING Jesus passed by a prison that was in the Tower of David. And we were walking after Him.
Of a sudden He tarried and laid His cheek against the stones of the prison wall. And thus He spoke:
"Brothers of my ancient day, my heart beats with your hearts behind the bars. Would that you could be free in my freedom and walk with me and my comrades.
"You are confined, but not alone. Many are the prisoners who walk the open streets. Their wings are not shorn, but like the peacock they flutter yet cannot fly.
"Brothers of my second day, I shall soon visit you in your cells and yield my shoulder to your burden. For the innocent and the guilty are not parted, and like the two bones of the forearm they shall never be cleaved.
"Brothers of this day, which is my day, you swam against the current of their reasoning and you were caught. They say I too shall swim against that current. Perhaps I shall soon be with you, a law-breaker among the law-breakers.
"Brothers of a day not yet come, these walls shall fall down, and out of the stones other shapes shall be fashioned by Him whose mallet is light, and whose chisel is the wind, and you shall stand free in the freedom of my new day."
Thus spoke Jesus and He walked on, and His hand was upon the prison wall until He passed by the Tower of David.

Bernhardt

Andrew
On Prostitutes

THE BITTERNESS OF death is less bitter than life without Him. The days were hushed and made still when he was silenced. Only the echo in my memory repeats His words. But not His voice.
Once I heard Him say: "Go forth in your longing to the fields, and sit by the lilies, and you shall hear them humming in the sun. They weave not cloth for raiment, nor do they raise wood or stone for shelter; yet they sing.
"He who works in the night fulfills their needs and the dew of His grace is upon their petals.
"And are not you also His care who never wearies nor rests?"
And once I heard Him say, "The birds of the sky are counted and enrolled by Your Father even as the hairs of your head are numbered. Not a bird shall lie at the archer's feet, neither shall a hair of your head turn gray or fall into the emptiness of age without His will."
And once again He said, "I have heard you murmur in your hearts: 'Our God shall be more merciful unto us, children of Abraham, than unto those who knew Him not in the beginning.'
"But I say unto you that the owner of the vineyard who calls a laborer in the morning to reap, and calls another at sundown, and yet renders wages to the last even as to the first, that man is indeed justified. Does he not pay out of his own purse and with his own will?
"So shall my Father open the gate of His mansion at the knocking of the Gentiles even as at your knocking. For His ear heeds the new melody with the same love that it feels for the oft-heard song. And with a special welcome because it is the youngest string of His heart."
And once again I heard Him say, "Remember this: a thief is a man in need, a liar is a man in fear; the hunter who is hunted by the watchman of your night is also hunted by the watchman of his own darkness.
"I would have you pity them all.
"Should they seek your house, see that you open your door and bid them sit at your board. If you do not accept them you shall not be free from whatever they have committed."
And on a day I followed Him to the market-place of Jerusalem as the others followed Him. And He told us the parable of the prodigal son, and the parable of the merchant who sold all his possessions that he might buy a pearl.
But as He was speaking the Pharisees brought into the midst of the crowd a woman whom they called a harlot. And they confronted Jesus and said to Him, "She defiled her marriage vow, and she was taken in the act."
And He gazed at her; and He placed His hand upon her forehead and looked deep into her eyes.
Then he turned to the men who had brought her to Him, and He looked long at them; and He leaned down and with His finger He began to write upon the earth.
He wrote the name of every man, and beside the name He wrote the sin that every man had committed.
And as He wrote they escaped in shame into the streets.
And ere He had finished writing only that woman and ourselves stood before Him.
And again He looked into her eyes, and He said, "You have loved overmuch. They who brought you here loved but little. But they brought you as a snare for my ensnaring.
"And now go in peace.
"None of them is here to judge you. And if it is in your desire to be wise even as you are loving, then seek me; for the Son of Man will not judge you."
And I wondered then whether He said this to her because He Himself was not without sin.
But since that day I have pondered long, and I know now that only the pure of heart forgive the thirst that leads to dead waters.
And only the sure of foot can give a hand to him who stumbles.
And again and yet again I say, the bitterness of death is less bitter than life without Him.

Bernhardt

A rich man
On Possessions

HE SPOKE ILL of rich men. And upon a day I questioned Him saying, "Sir, what shall I do to attain the peace of the spirit?"
And He bade me give my possessions to the poor and follow Him.
But He possessed nothing; therefore He knew not the assurance and the freedom of possessions, nor thr dignity and the self-respect that lie within.
In my household there are sevenscore slaves and stewards; some labor in my groves and vineyards, and some direct my ships to distant isles.
Now had I heeded Him and given my possessions to the poor, what would have befallen my slaves and my servants and their wives and children? They too would have become beggars at the gate of the city or the portico of the temple.
Nay that good man did not fathom the secret of possessions. Because He and His followers lived on the bounty of others He thought all men should live likewise.
Behold a contradiction and a riddle: Should rich men bestow their riches upon the poor, and must the poor have the cup and the loaf of the rich man ere they welcome him to their board?
And must needs the holder of the tower be host to his tenants ere he calls himself lord of his own land?
The ant that stores food for the winter is wiser than a grasshopper that sings one day and hungers another.
Last sabbath one of His followers said in the market-place, "At the threshold of heaven where Jesus may leave His sandals, no other man is worthy to lay his head."
But I ask, at the threshold of whose house that honest vagabond could have left His sandals? He Himself never had a house nor a threshold; and often He went without sandals.

Bernhardt

John at Patmos
Jesus the Gracious

ONCE MORE I would speak of Him.
God gave me the voice and the burning lips though not the speech.
And unworthy am I for the fuller word, yet I would summon my heart to my lips.
Jesus loved me and I knew not why.
And I loved Him because He quickened my spirit to heights beyond my stature, and to depths beyond my sounding.
Love is a sacred mystery.
To those who love, it remains forever wordless;
But to those who do not love, it may be but a heartless jest.
Jesus called me and my brother when we were laboring in the field.
I was young then and only the voice of dawn had visited my ears.
But His voice and the trumpet of His voice was the end of my labor and the beginning of my passion.
And there were naught for me then but to walk in the sun and worship the loveliness of the hour.
Could you conceive a majesty too kind to be majestic? And a beauty too radiant to seem beautiful?
Could you hear in your dreams a voice shy of its own rapture?
He called me and I followed Him.
That evening I returned to my father's house to get my other cloak.
And I said to my mother, "Jesus of Nazareth would have me in His company."
And she said, "Go His way my son, even like your brother."
And I accompanied Him.
His fragrance called me and commanded me, but only to release me.
Love is a gracious host to his guests though to the unbidden his house is a mirage and a mockery.

Now you would have me explain the miracles of Jesus.
We are all the miraculous gesture of the moment; our Lord and Master was the centre of that moment.
Yet it was not in His desire that His gestures be known.
I have heard Him say to the lame, "Rise and go home, but say not to the priest that I have made you whole."
And Jesus' mind was not with the cripple; it was rather with the strong and the upright.
His mind sought and held other minds and His complete spirit visited other spirits.
And is so doing His spirit changed these minds and these spirits.
It seemed miraculous, but with our Lord and Master it was simply like breathing the air of every day.

And now let me speak of other things.
On a day when He and I were alone walking in a field, we were both hungry, and we came to a wild apple tree.
There were only two apples hanging on the bough.
And He held the trunk of the tree with His arm and shook it, and the two apples fell down.
He picked them both up and gave one to me. The other He held in His hand.
In my hunger I ate the apple, and I ate it fast.
Then I looked at Him and I saw that He still held the other apple in His hand.
And He gave it to me saying, "Eat this also."
And I took the apple, and in my shameless hunger I ate it.
And as we walked on I looked upon His face.
But how shall I tell you of what I saw?
A night where candles burn in space,
A dream beyond our reaching;
A noon where all shepherds are at peace and happy that their flock are grazing;
An eventide, and a stillness, and a homecoming;
Then a sleep and a dream.
All these things I saw in His face.
He had given me the two apples. And I knew He was hungry even as I was hungry.
But I now know that in giving them to me He had been satisfied. He Himself ate of other fruit from another tree.
I would tell you more of Him, but how shall I?
When love becomes vast love becomes wordless.
And when memory is overladen it seeks the silent deep.

Bernhardt

Peter
On the Neighbor

ONCE IN CAPERNAUM my Lord and Master spoke thus:
"Your neighbor is your other self dwelling behind a wall. In understanding, all walls shall fall down.
"Who knows but that your neighbor is your better self wearing another body? See that you love him as you would love yourself.
"He too is a manifestation of the Most High, whom you do not know.
"Your neighbor is a field where the springs of your hope walk in their green garments, and where the winters of your desire dream of snowy heights.
"Yuor neighbor is a mirror wherein you shall behold your countenance made beautiful by a joy which you yourself fif not know, and by a sorrow you yourself did not share.
"I would have you love your neighbor even as I have loved you."
Then I asked Him saying, "How can I love a neighbor who loves me not, and who covets my property? One who would steal my possessions?"
And He answered, "When you are ploughing and your manservant is sowing the seed behind you, would you stop and look backward and put to flight a sparrow feeding upon a few of your seeds? Should you do this, you were not worthy of the riches of your harvest."
When Jesus had said this, I was ashamed and I was silent. But I was not in fear, for He smiled upon me.

Bernhardt

A cobbler in Jerusalem
A Neutral

I LOVED HIM not, yet I did not hate Him. I listened to Him not to hear His words but rather he sound of His voice; for His voice pleased me.
All that He said was vague to my mind, but the music thereof was clear to my ear.
Indeed were it not for what others have said to me of His teaching, I should not have known even so much as whether He was with Judea or against it.

Bernhardt

Suzannah of Nazareth, a neighbor of Mary
Of the Youth and Manhood of Jesus

I KNEW MARY the mother of Jesus, before she became the wife of Joseph the carpenter, when we were both still unwedded.
In those days Mary would behold visions and hear voices, and she would speak of heavenly ministers who visited her dreams.
And the people of Nazareth were mindful of her, and they observed her going and her coming. And they gazed upon her brows and spaces in her steps.
But some said she was possessed. They said this because she would go only upon her own errands.
I deemed her old while she was young, for there was a harvest in her blossoming and ripe fruit in her spring.
She was born and reared amongst us yet she was like an alien from the North Country. In her eyes there was always the astonishment of one not yet familiar with our faces.
And she was as haughty as Miriam of old who marched with her brothers form the Nile to the wilderness.
Then Mary was betrothed to Joseph the carpenter.

When Mary was big with Jesus she would walk among the hills and return at eventide with loveliness and pain in her eyes.
And when Jesus was born I was told that Mary said to her mother, "I am but a tree unpruned. See you to this fruit." Martha the midwife heard her.
After three days I visited her. And there was wonder in her eyes, and her breasts heaved, and her arm was around her first-born like the shell that holds the pearl.
We all loved Mary's babe and we watched Him, for there was warmth in His being and He throbbed with the pace of His life.
The seasons passed, and He became a boy full of laughter and little wanderings. None of us knew what He would do for He seemed always outside of our race. But He was never rebuked though He was venturous and over-daring.
He played with the other children rather than they with Him.
When He was twelve years old, one day He led a blind man across the brook to the safety of the open road.
And in gratitude the blind man asked Him, "Little boy, who are you?"
And He answered, "I am not a little boy. I am Jesus."
And the blind man said, "Who is your father?"
And He answered, "God is my father."
And the blind man laughed and replied, "Well said, my little boy. But who is your mother?"
And Jesus answered, "I am not your little boy. And my mother is the earth."
And the blind man said, "Then behold, I was led by the Son of God and the earth across the stream."
And Jesus answered, "I will lead you wherever you would go, and my eyes will accompany your feet."
And He grew like a precious palm tree in our gardens.
When He was nineteen He was as comely as a hart, and His eyes were like honey and full of the surprise of day.
And upon His mouth there was the thirst of the desert flock for the lake.
He would walk the fields alone and our eyes would follow Him, and the eyes of all the maidens of Nazareth. But we were shy of Him.
Love is forever shy of beauty, yet beauty shall forever be pursued by love.

Then the years bade Him speak in the temple and in the gardens of Galilee.
And at times Mary followed Him to listen to His words and to hear the sound of her own heart. But when He and those who loved Him went down to Jerusalem she would not go.
For we at the North Country are often mocked in the streets of Jerusalem, even when we go carrying our offerings to the temple.
And Mary was too proud to yield to the South Country.

And Jesus visited other lands in the east and in the west. We knew not what lands He visited, yet our hearts followed Him.
But Mary awaited Him upon her threshold and every eventide her eyes sought the road for His home-coming.
Yet upon His return she would say to us, "He is too vast to be my Son, too eloquent for my silent heart. How shall I claim Him?"
It seemed to us that Mary could not believe that the plain had given birth to the mountain; in the whiteness of her heart she did not see that the ridge is a pathway to the summit.
She knew the man, but because He was her Son she dared not know Him.
And on a day when Jesus went to the lake to be with the fishermen she said to me, "What is man but this restless being that would rise from the earth, and who is man but a longing that desires the stars?
"My son is a longing. He is all of us longing for the stars.
"Did I say my son? May God forgive me. Yet in my heart I would be His mother."


Now, it is hard to tell more of Mary and her Son, but though there shall be husks in my throat, and my words shall reach you like cripples on crutches, I must needs relate what I have seen and heard.
It was in the youth of the year when the red anemones were upon the hills that Jesus called His disciples saying to them, "Come with me to Jerusalem and witness the slaying of the lamb for the passover."
Upon the selfsame day Mary came to my door and said, "He is seeking the Holy City. Will you come and follow Him with me and the other women?"
And we walked the long road behind Mary and her son till we reached Jerusalem. And there a company of men and women hailed us at the gate, for His coming had been heralded to those who loved Him.
But upon that very night Jesus left the city with His men.
We were told that He had gone to Bethany.
And Mary stayed with us in the inn, awaiting His return.
Upon the eve of the following Thursday He was caught without the walls, and was held prisoner.
And when we heard He was a prisoner, Mary uttered not a word, but there appeared in her eyes the fulfilment of that promised pain and joy which we had beheld when she was but a bride in Nazareth.
She did not weep. She only moved among us like the ghost of a mother who would not bewail the ghost of her son.
We sat low upon the floor but she was erect, walking up and down the room.
She would stand beside the window and gaze eastward, and then with the fingers of her two hands brush back her hair.
At dawn she was still standing among us, like a lone banner in the wilderness wherein there are no hosts.
We wept because we knew the morrow of her son; but she did not weep for she knew also what would befall Him.
Her bones were of bronze and her sinews of the ancient elms, and her eyes were like the sky, wide and daring.
Have you heard a thrush sing while its nest burns in the wind?
Have you seen a woman whose sorrow is too much for tears, or a wounded heart that would rise beyond its own pain?
You have not seen such a woman, for you have not stood in the presence of Mary; and you have not been enfolded by the Mother Invisible.
In that still moment when the muffled hoofs of silence beat upon the breasts of the sleepless, John the young son of Zebedee, came and said: "Mary Mother, Jesus is going forth. Come, let us follow Him."
And Mary laid her hand upon John's shoulder and they went out, and we followed them.
When we came to the Tower of David we saw Jesus carrying His cross. And there was a great crowd about Him.
And two other men were also carrying their crosses.
And Mary's head was held high, and she walked with us after her son. And her step was firm.
And behind her walked Zion and Rome, ay, the whole world, to revenge itself upon one free Man.
When we reached the hill, He was raised high upon the cross.
And I looked at Mary. And her face was not the face of a woman bereaved. It was the countenance of the fertile earth, forever giving birth, forever burying her children.
Then to her eyes came the remembrance of His childhood, and she said aloud, "My son, who is not my son; man who once visited my womb, I glory in your power. I know that every drop of blood that runs down from your hands shall be the well-stream of a nation.
"You die in this tempest even as my heart once died in the sunset, and I shall now sorrow."
At that moment I desired to cover my face with my cloak and run away to the North Country. But of a sudden I heard Mary say, "My son, who is not my son, what have you said to the man at your right hand that has made him happy in his agony? The shadow of death is light upon his face, and he cannot turn his eyes from you.
"Now you smile upon me, and because you smile I know you have conquered."
And Jesus looked upon His mother and said, "Mary, from this hour be you the mother of John."
And to John He said, "Be a loving son unto this woman. Go to her house and let your shadow cross the threshold where I once stood. Do this in remembrance of me."
And Mary raised her right hand towards Him, and she was like a tree with one branch. And again she cried, "My son, who is not my son, if this be of God may God give us patience and the knowledge thereof. And if it be of man may God forgive him forevermore.
"If it be of God, the snow of Lebanon shall be your shroud; and if it be only of the priests and soldiers, then I have this garment for your nakedness.
"My son, who is not my son, that which God builds here shall not perish; and that which man would destroy shall remain builded, but not in his sight."
And at that moment the heavens yielded Him to the earth, a cry and a breath.
And Mary yielded Him also unto man, a wound and a balsam.
And Mary said, "Now behold, He is gone. The battle is over. The star has shone forth. The ship has reached the harbor. He who once lay against my heart is throbbing in space."
And we came close to her, and she said to us, "Even in death He smiles. He has conquered. I would indeed be the mother of a conqueror."
And Mary returned to Jerusalem leaning upon John the young disciple.
And she was a woman fulfilled.
And when we reached the gate of the city, I gazed upon her face and I was astonished, for on that day the head of Jesus was the highest among men, and yet Mary's head was not less high.
All this came to pass in the spring of the year.
And now it is autumn. And Mary the mother of Jesus has come again to her dwelling-place, and she is alone.
Two sabbaths ago my heart was as a stone in my breast, for my son had left me for a ship in Tyre. He would be a sailor.
And he said he would return no more.
And upon an evening I sought Mary.
When I entered her house she was sitting at her loom, but she was not weaving. She was looking into the sky beyond Nazareth.
And I said to her, "Hail, Mary."
And she stretched out her arm to me, and said, "Come and sit beside me, and let us watch the sun pour its blood upon the hills."
And I sat beside her on the bench and we gazed into the west through the window.
And after a moment Mary said, "I wonder who is crucifying the sun this eventide."
Then I said, "I came to you for comfort. My son has left me for the sea and I am alone in the house across the way."
Then Mary said, "I would comfort you but how shall I?"
And I said, "If you will only speak of your son I shall be comforted."
And Mary smiled upon me, and she laid her hand about my shoulder and she said, "I will speak of Him. That which will console you will give me consolation."
Then she spoke of Jesus, and she spoke long of all that was in the beginning.
And it seemed to me that in her speech she would have no difference between her son and mine.
For she said to me, "My son is also a seafarer. Why would you not trust your son to the waves even as I have trusted Him?
"Woman shall be forever the womb and the cradle but never the tomb. We die that we may give life unto life even as our fingers spin the thread for the raiment that we shall never wear.
"And we cast the net for the fish that we shall never taste.
"And for this we sorrow, yet in all this is our joy."
Thus spoke Mary to me.
And I left her and came to my house, and though the light of the day was spent I sat at my loom to weave more of the cloth.

Bernhardt

Joseph surnamed Justus
Jesus the Wayfarer

THEY SAY HE was vulgar, the common offspring of common seed, a man uncouth and violent.
They say that only the wind combed His hair, and only the rain brougth His clothes and His body together.
They deem Him mad, and they attribute His words to demons.
Yet behold, the Man despised sounded a challenge and the sound thereof shall never cease.
He sang a song and none shall arrest that melody. It shall hover from generation to generation and it shall rise from sphere to sphere remembering the lips that gace it birth and the ears that cradled it.
He was a stranger. Aye, He was a stranger, a wayfarer on His way to a shrine, a visitor who knocked at our door, a guest from a far country.
And because He found not a gracious host, He has returned to His own place.

Bernhardt

Philip
And When He Died All Mankind Died

WHEN OUR BELOVED died, all mankind died and all things for a space were still and gray. Then the east was darkened, and a tempest rushed out of it and swept the land. The eyes of the sky opened and shut, and the rain came down in torrents and carried away the blood that streamed from His hands and His feet.
I too died. But in the depth of my oblivion I heard Him speak and say, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do."
And His voice sought my drowned spirit and I was brought back to the shore.
And I opened my eyes and I saw His white body hanging against the cloud, and His words that I had heard took the shape within me and became a new man. And I sorrowed no more.
Who would sorrow for a sea that is unveiling its face, or for a mountain that laughs in the sun?
Was it ever in the heart of man, when that heart was pierced, to say such words?
What other judge of men has released His judges? And did ever love challenge hate with power more certain of itself?
Was ever such a trumpet heard 'twixt heaven and earth?
Was it known before that the murdered had compassion on his murderers? Or that the meteor stayed his footsteps for the mole?
The seasons shall tire and the years grow old, ere they exhaust these words: "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do."
And you and I, though born again and again, shall keep them.
And now I would go into my house, and stand an exalted beggar, at His door.