Part 7

But the younger son was restless, and got tired of being quietly at home. He had heard something about the world outside, and he thought it must be a very fine place by all accounts.

So one day he asked his father to divide what he had to leave to him and his brother, so that he might do as he liked with his share of it.

Not many days after, the younger son took his journey into a far country, and as he had no one there to guide him, and as he did not heed the advice of his dear father, he began to waste his money and get into evil ways.

Very soon he had spent all his father had given him, and had nothing left in his purse.

Up to this time he had thought he could do very well without his father, but now he began to be in want. It was so hard to be hungry, to find his clothes get ragged, and for his companions to forsake him. And it made him sad and afraid when he remembered that he had no house to sleep in, and no friends near.

By and by a farmer took pity on him, and hired him to go and feed his pigs; and he was so hungry that he could almost have eaten the pigs' food. But no one gave him anything.

At last as he sat dejectedly watching the pigs, he came to himself! He began to remember his dear home and his father's love. He no longer prided himself on what he could do, and what he could buy. He saw his behaviour in its true light. He told himself that he had been very naughty and very disobedient, and he began to be sorry.

And when he came to himself he said, "How many of my father's hired servants have bread enough and to spare, and I, his son, am dying of hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and tell him I have sinned, and ask him to make me one of his servants."

So he got up to go to his father.

His father had been very sad all the time his boy had been away. His heart had ached terribly, though his son had never thought of that.

Every day he looked out for his lost one, and watched for him along the roads and over the mountains till it grew too dark to see.

But one day, when the son was yet a great way off, his father saw him coming! Then the dear father ran to meet him, and fell on his neck and kissed him.

And the son said, "Father, I have sinned before Heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son—"

But he could not get any further than that in what he meant to say! For his father's arms were round him, and his father's voice was saying in the old familiar tones, "Bring hither the best robe, and put it on him! And put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet; and bring here the fatted calf and let us make a feast; for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found!"

Children, we have here a picture of the way our loving Heavenly Father welcomes back those who have wandered from Him.

His heart is full of love; He grieves that we want to take our own way, and go far-off from Him.

But if we are sorry, and come back to His loving arms, we shall find that they will open to receive us; He will put the best robe upon us, and He will prepare a feast for us; and there shall be joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner repenting!

Do you want to know what the "best robe" means?

It is the Robe of Christ's righteousness. For Christ's sake, who has shed His precious blood to make us clean and white, we can be dressed in that perfect robe; and then we shall be fit to join in the feast and the rejoicings, which are coming by and by in heaven.

XXIX. The Pharisee and the Publican

Two men were wending their way towards God's Temple at Jerusalem, a Pharisee and a Publican.

There, on a hill, stood the beautiful building with its white marble pillars glistening in the sun; and as they walked along the hot roads towards God's House, their thoughts were very different.

They knew that God's Holy Presence was in that Temple to which they were going, and one of them thought with awe that he would soon be in the place where he would meet with God.

The other man was thinking entirely about himself, and nothing at all about God.

So they ascended the many steps leading up into the Temple, and at last stood within the Sacred House.

* * * * *

And then the Pharisee thought of how he understood all about God's law, and how he did not need anyone to teach him what was written in the Scriptures.

But he did not know two things which would have made him a different man—he did not know his own heart, and he did not know God's heart.

He did not know that his own heart was full of pride and love of self; he did not know that God's heart was full of pity and tender love towards sinful men who came to Him to be forgiven.

So the Pharisee began to pray. And when the Lord Jesus told us this story about him, He said "he stood and prayed thus with himself."

But he began his prayer like this:—

"God! I thank thee that I am not like other men! I am not one who exacts more than I should from others; I am not unjust or impure; or even like this Publican. I fast twice in every week, and I give tithes of everything I have."

Then the Pharisee, having finished his prayer, went down once more to his home.

He had not seen the vision of God! He had not come near to Him, nor waited to receive the answer to his words. He did not even know what he had missed!

* * * * *

And the other man who went up to pray was the Publican.

He was a collector of the Roman taxes; and because of the frequent cheating of these publicans, they were hated by the Jews.

It was a calling which gave great opportunities for dishonesty, and when some of the Jews, for the sake of gain, engaged in it, they were despised and called traitors.

So this Publican, whom our Lord Jesus told about in this story, was evidently a Jew, as he among other Jews "went up into the Temple to pray."

And when he entered God's House, there stood the Pharisee praying; but the Publican, standing afar off, not full of his own good deeds, but feeling ashamed of his own sinfulness, would not even lift up his eyes to Heaven, but smote his breast saying:

"God be merciful to me, a sinner!"

* * * * *

And our Lord turned to those who were listening to Him and said, "I tell you, this Publican went down to his house justified, rather than the other."

Do you wonder what it is to be justified? Should we not all like, when we have been naughty, or have done wrong, to know that we may go down, like the Publican did to his house, justified?

It means, I think, for a person to realise that some one greater and richer than himself has undertaken to set him free from his debt.

It means that we have come to God and told Him that we are very sorry we have been naughty, and have asked Him to have mercy upon us, and to forgive us for Jesus' sake.

When we have done that, we may, indeed, like the Publican, go away "justified."

Perhaps some boy gets into trouble at school, and owes something to another boy, which he has no means of paying.

So the boy who owes the money goes to his father. He knows he has done wrong, but he tells his father all about it, and asks him to help him. And the loving father sees to it all for him, and pays the debt.

The school-fellows know nothing about this, but they have heard about the debt, and they whisper to each other, and jeer when the boy comes near.

But to their surprise, he raises his head now! "My father has paid," he says, with shining eyes.

I think that is being "justified."

* * * * *

And it seems to me that that was how the Publican felt, when he had told God he was a sinner, and had asked for His mercy.

He went home happy, and forgiven!

[Illustration: GOD BE MERCIFUL TO ME, A SINNER!]

Here is a comforting promise for us all—

"This is a faithful saying . . . that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners!"

XXX. An Uninvited Guest

One day the Lord Jesus was invited to dinner by a rich man whose name was Simon.

Perhaps this rich man asked Jesus to dinner because he wished to see Him do some miracle—something wonderful which no one else could do; or he may have imagined that people would think more of himself if he had Jesus for a guest; at any rate, by what we read afterwards, I am afraid Simon the Pharisee did not invite Jesus because he loved Him.

But there was somebody present at that feast who did love Jesus, but she was not invited.

In Eastern lands the houses are not shut up like our houses, but because it is so warm, the dining-rooms are often open to the air on one or two sides, or people take their meals in the cool shady courtyards.

When a great man makes a feast, people hear of it, and come round the house to look at what is going on.

In the city there lived a poor sinful and sorrowful woman who had learned to love the Lord Jesus: perhaps she had heard Him say these loving words, "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

When this sorrowful woman heard that Jesus was gone to dinner at the Pharisee's house, she brought a little box made of alabaster, which was filled with some very sweet-smelling ointment, and she made her way into the open dining-hall, and when she saw where the Lord was sitting or reclining, as the custom was, on a sort of couch to the table, she came up, and stood behind Him!

And as she stood there and thought of all His love and compassion, she began to weep, and her tears fell down over His feet as He reclined at the table.

Then she wiped His feet with her hair, and anointed them with the sweet ointment.

But the Pharisee who had invited the Lord Jesus looked on with anger. He thought if Jesus were a great teacher, He would not have allowed a woman from the city to come and wash His feet with her tears.

But Jesus knows all our hearts, and He could see that the poor woman loved Him so much that she would go away and try never to grieve Him any more.

By and by He turned to Simon, and told him to look at this woman and compare her love with his.

Jesus said words something like this: "Simon, I was tired and dusty with my journey when I came in, and you did not give me water to bathe my feet, but she has washed my feet with tears; you did not offer me a kiss, but this woman has not ceased to kiss my feet; you did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with precious ointment. She has loved me very much, because I have forgiven her very much."

And turning to the woman, Jesus said to her, "Thy sins are forgiven; . . . go in peace."

Oh, the joy of hearing Jesus say those words!

And we may have that joy too, if we come to Him with humble loving heart, and tell Him that we are sorry.

He never turns anyone away who comes to Him; so, dear little children, let us trust His loving heart, and though we know we are very unworthy, do not let us stay away for that, for Jesus longs that we may be forgiven, and so be able to go away "in peace."

XXXI. The Barren Fig Tree

"Nothing but Leaves"

I have seen a picture of a fig tree, and I want to describe it to you, that we may understand a little about one of our Lord's Parables.

There are a great many Parables in the New Testament: they are word-pictures to teach us God's great lessons.

At school your teacher has a large blackboard, and sometimes she sketches an object, and explains it to you, does she not?

One day she drew a cracked cup, the crack of which grew wider under her clever fingers, and she turned round and said to her class, "Is this cup of any use?" And there were plenty of "No's" from all over the room; but one child ventured "Perhaps it could be mended!"

And then the teacher gave a bright look, and she said, "Yes, Charlie, you are right! And so are the others with their 'No's' all over the room. For unless the cup is mended, it is of no use. The cup is a picture of our characters! If there is a flaw in them, a crack that gets wider and wider, then the cup is of no use, is it?"

"It might be thrown away!" ventured another child.

"Yes," said the teacher; "but, if it could be mended—as Charlie said—then it could be used again. So what must we do, Charlie?"

She turned her face to the little boy, and a smile came over his features as he answered, "There's a china-mender comes down our road every week—he could do it!"

And the teacher smiled back. Did Charlie know that he had touched on a great truth? So she went on—

"Yes, we must 'have faith in God.' We must take our cracked cups, and our faulty characters, to the Great Mender, Jesus our Saviour, and ask Him to make us useful, serviceable little Christians!"

So now, I am going to make an imaginary blackboard and show you a branch of a fig tree!

Look at that fig growing out of the stalk; it is large, and oblong, and plump, and it is firmly fixed to the big branch.

And then, above and below it are little sprouting leaves, some just come out, some not yet burst from their little buds; and soon the fruit, which is already ripe, will be covered up by the leaves, as they grow larger and larger.

But suppose, when you lift the leaves, there is no fruit?

Then you come to the conclusion that the tree must be a barren tree, and you turn away sorry and disappointed.

[Illustration: THE BARREN FIG TREE.]

And this is a little word-picture of the barren fig tree, about which our Lord gives us a Parable.

He was coming from Bethany, and it says He hungered. Perhaps the Lord Jesus had been up all night praying to His Father.

So, as He came near to the fig tree, He saw it was full of leaves; but when He got close to it, He found there were no figs under the leaves—it was barren.

And as He turned away He said, in the disciples' hearing, "Let no fruit grow on thee henceforward for ever."

Oh, how sad He was to have to say that!

And presently the fig tree withered away.

Just before this, the Lord came down the side of the Mount of Olives, and in turning a corner of the steep path a sight of the beautiful city of Jerusalem burst upon their view. It says in the Gospel of Luke—

"And when He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! But now they are hid from thine eyes."

Jesus wept for all the sorrow that was coming on the beloved city, and because the Jews would not have Him as their Saviour.

This was indeed like the fig tree, which had leaves, but no fruit.

The Jews ought to have known from their own Scriptures of the Old Testament, which they read every Sabbath, that on this very day it was foretold in the Book of Nehemiah, and also in Daniel and Zechariah, that the Messiah was to enter Jerusalem as King, meek and lowly, and riding on an ass's colt.

They were proud of their knowledge, and of their possession of God's Temple, and His Scriptures; but they had not fruit under the leaves of their pride and unbelief. They had even been plotting to kill Him. They had rejected Him in their hearts, and in a few days' time they were going to crucify Him!

The next day Jesus and His disciples passed by that fig tree again, and it had begun to wither and dry up; and the disciples said, "How soon is the fig tree withered!"

And the answer of our Lord must have astonished them. "Have faith in God!" He said.

Now, like the teacher with the blackboard, I want to gather up the lesson I have learned from this story—

Do not let our dear Lord, Who died for us, come and look into our hearts and find no fruit, but only leaves!

How He must long to have us all we should be!

Do not let us be like the cracked and useless cup! But let us go to the great Healer and Mender and Cleanser of our poor characters, and ask Him to make us what He would like to see us.

The only way to get "mended" and to bear fruit instead of only leaves, is to go to Him Who died on the Cross to save us, and to find in Him forgiveness, strength, and peace.

XXXII. The Parable of the Talents

"What is a Talent?" perhaps some one asks.

A Talent in our Lord's time was a piece of money of great value, of about £342, and in the story which Jesus told the disciples, a Talent was described as something precious which was given to the servants of a great lord, to trade with, while he was on a long journey.

To one servant this lord gave ten Talents to trade with; to another, five; to another, two; according to their several ability; and to another, one.

And what do you think the servant who had only one did with his Talent? He went away and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money!

Then the lord of those servants took his journey.

At length the time came for his return, and he called his servants and reckoned with them.

The one who had traded with ten Talents brought ten Talents more to his lord; and the man with five brought five more; and the man with two brought two more. And the lord was very pleased with these faithful servants, and said, "Well done!" to each of them, and gave them great rewards.

But at last there came the man who had only received one Talent; and as he spread the one Talent out before him, he said, "I knew that you were a hard master, so I was afraid, and went and hid your Talent in the earth. Lo! Then, you have what is yours!"

And the great lord was very grieved and angry with that wicked and idle servant, and he took the Talent from him and gave it to the one who had ten; and the faithless servant was cast out, and in the darkness he wept despairingly that he could never enter, as the others did, "into the joy of their lord."

And now I am going to tell you a true story to try and explain to you the meaning of these Talents in our present-day life.

I told you that to us, the Talent that Jesus spoke of is not money, but something more precious still, which we are given by God to trade with.

"Trade with?" you ask. Yes—that is the idea.

If we are God's servants, if we have taken Jesus Christ as our own Blessed Saviour, God expects us to try to get others to trust Him too, and so to multiply the Talents which He has given into our charge.

You will understand this a little better when you have read the true story I am going to tell you.

There was a lady taking a Journey a few years ago, and she had to pass through London and go to another terminus on her way.

She had one of God's "Talents" in her heart. She knew that Jesus Christ was a great and precious Saviour; and before she started on her journey she prayed:

"Make me a blessing to somebody as I travel!"

Well, by the time she had reached London, she was tired, and when she got to the other terminus, as she went along the platform she saw a man sitting in a carriage alone. But she passed on; she thought she was too tired to speak to that man.

So she hid her Lord's money!

But her heart smote her; and after a moment she got out, and entered the carriage where the man, who appeared to be a foreman in some works, sat in the farthest corner.

They were soon off, and though she felt very nervous, she moved nearer to him, and made a remark on the beautiful sunset!

He seemed surprised.

And when, further, she said, "How it reminded her of God's love."

He answered: "Oh, I do not think of those things! I leave that to my wife and daughters! I and my sons read different things from that! We do very well with our lives, and leave them to theirs!"

The lady hardly knew what to answer. She felt she was not "up" in all these unbelieving questions of the day.

But then she bethought herself: "I wish I could think of some word of God that would suit his case! For the Word of God is living and powerful."

And like a flash, she remembered the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, and she said, "Did you ever hear this?" And found herself able to repeat it to him word for word:

"Two men went up into the Temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a Publican.

"The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself: God, I thank Thee that I am not as other men are . . .

"And the Publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner. I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other."

[Illustration: HE SPREAD THE ONE TALENT OUT BEFORE HIM.]