p. 708 | THE PRINCE OF LIFE by Alexander McLaren, D.D.

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Nov 25, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 45.

THE PRINCE OF LIFE.

By Alexander McLaren, D.D.

THE attempts at harmonizing the resurrection narratives are not only unsatisfactory, but they tend to blur the distinctive characteristics of each account. We shall, therefore, confine ourselves entirely to Matthew's version, and leave the others alone, with the simple remark that a condensed report of a series of events does not deny what it omits, nor contradict a fuller one. The peculiarities of Matthew's last chapter are largely due to the purpose of his Gospel. Throughout, it has been the record of the Galilean ministry, the picture of the King of Israel, and of his treatment by those who should have been his subjects. This chapter establishes the fact of his resurrection; but, passing by the Jerusalem appearances of the risen Lord, as being granted to individuals and having less bearing on his royalty, emphasizes two points: his rejection by the representatives of the nation, whose lie is indorsed by popular acceptance; and the solemn assumption, in the Galilee, so familiar to the reader, of universal dominion, with the world-wide commission, in which the kingdom bursts the narrow, national limits and becomes co-extensive with humanity. It is better to learn the meaning of Matthew's selection of his incidents, than to wipe out instructive peculiarities in the vain attempt after harmony.

First, notice his silence (in which all the four narratives are alike) as to the time and circumstances of the resurrection itself. That had taken place before the gray twilight summoned the faithful women, and before the earthquake and the angel's descent. No eye saw him rise. The guards were not asleep, for the statement that they were, is a lie put into their mouths by the rulers; but though they kept jealous watch, his rising was invisible to them. "The prison was shut with all safety," for the stone was rolled away after he was risen, "and the keepers standing before the doors," but there was "no man within."

As in the evening of that day he appeared in the closed chamber, so he passed from the sealed grave. Divine decorum required that that transcendent act should be done without mortal observers of the actual rising of the Son which scatters forever the darkness of death.

Matthew next notices the angel ministrant and herald. His narrative leaves the impression that the earthquake and appearance of the angel immediately preceded the arrival of the women, and the "Behold!" suggests that they felt and saw both. But that is a piece of chronology on which there may be difference of opinion. The other narratives tell of two angels. Matthew's mention of one only may be due either to the fact that one was speaker, or to the subjective impressions of his informant, who saw but the one, or to variation in the number visible at different times. We know too little of the laws which determine their appearances to be warranted in finding contradiction or difficulty here. The power of seeing may depend on the condition of the beholder. It may depend, not as with gross material bodies, on optics, but on the volition of the radiant being seen. They may pass from visibility to its opposite, lightly and repeatedly, flickering into and out of sight, as the Pleiades. Where there is such store of possibilities, he is rash who talks glibly about contradictions. Of far more value is it to note the purpose served by this waiting angel.

We heard much of a herald angel of the Lord, in the story of the nativity. We hear nothing of him during the life of Christ. Now again he appears, as the stars, quenched in the noon-tide, shine again when the sun is out of the sky. He attends as humble servitor in token that the highest beings gazed on that empty grave with reverent adoration, and were honored by being allowed to guard the sacred place. Death was an undreaded thing to them, and no hopes for themselves blossomed from Christ's grave; but he who had lain in it was their King as well as ours, and new lessons of divine love were taught them, as they wondered and watched. They came to minister by act and word to the weeping women's faith and joy. Their appearance paralyzes the guards who would have kept the Marys from the grave. They roll away the great circular stone, which women's hands, however nerved by love, could not have moved in its grooves. They speak tender words to them. There, by the empty tomb, the strong heavenly and the weak earthly lovers of the risen King meet together, and clasp hands of help, the pledge and first-fruits of the standing order henceforth, and the inauguration of their office of "ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for . . . heirs of salvation," the risen Christ hath made both one. The servants of the same king must needs be friends of one another.

The women had been at the grave but for a few moments. But they lived more in these than in years of quiet. Time is very elastic, and five minutes or five seconds may change a life. These few moments changed a world. Haste, winged by fear which had no torment, and by joy which found relief in swift movement, sent them running, forgetful of conventional proprieties, towards the awakening city. Probably Mary Magdalene had left them, as soon as they saw the open grave, and had hurried back alone to tell the tidings. And now the crowning joy and wonder comes. How simply it is told!—the introductory "Behold," just hinting at the wonderfulness, and perhaps at the suddenness, of our Lord's appearance, and the rest being in the quietest and fewest words possible. Note the deep significance of the name "Jesus" here. The angel spoke of "the Lord," but all the rest of the chapter speaks of "Jesus." The joy and hope that flowed from the resurrection depend on the fact of his humanity. He comes out of the grave, the same brother of our mortal flesh as before. It was no phantom whose feet they clasped, and he is not withdrawn from them by his mysterious experience. All through the resurrection histories and the narrative of the forty days, the same emphasis attaches to the name which culminates in the angels' assurance at the ascension, that "this same Jesus," in his true humanity, who has gone up on high our forerunner, shall come again, our brother and our judge. "It is Christ that died, yea, rather, that is risen again;" but that triumphant assurance loses all its blessedness, unless we say too, "Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and . . . rose again the third day."