SUNDAY READING.

Taranaki Daily News, 30 July 1921, Page 10

SUNDAY READING.

CHRIST’S CHOICE OF JUDAS ISCARIOT.

“Did not I choose y'ou, the twelve, and one of r you is a devil.” —Saint John, VI., 70.

(By. Rev. A. H. Collins, New Plymouth.) “Did I not choose you, the twelve and one of you is a devil?” Then why was that one chosen? Did Jesus know the true chara’cter of Judas when He called him to the Apostolate? If you say “No,” what, then, becomes of that saying that Christ “needed not that any should testify what is in man.” In every other case He seemed to know His men, their weakness and their strength, and for the Master not to know Judas would 'have implied a determination not to know, and if, as events proved, Jesus Christ knew the place and the hour of His death, together with all the links in the chain of events which led to that grim deed, it is difficult to escape the conviction that He knew the character of the man who played so prominent a part in the dread tragedy. Besides, we know the correctness of the Saviour’s forecast. So that we are driven back on the question, why was Judas •chosen It is no idle and specuI lative question; it involves important principles, and I kn/nv that some are perplexed to find an answer to the query. FORE-KNOVVLEDG'E AND PREDESTINATION. Two words need to be said at the outset. We must distinguish between foreknowledge and pre-destination. Jesus scanned this man’s heart, and read its guilty secret, and was able to forecast his action; but Judas was not appointed to do this vile thing. The second thing to remember is this, that whilst Judas is called “a devil,” that does not mean that he was an incarnation of the Evil One with horns, and hoof, and tail! The word “devil” comes from the Greek “Diabolos.” and means “the accuser”; it corresponds to the Hebrew “Satan,” which, literally, means “one who brings a railing accusation.” The word is frequently used in this sense in the New Testament, and such an interpretation fulfils all the requirements of this passage. The Twentieth Century New Testament reads, “Did not I myself choose you to be the twelve, and yet even of you one is an enemy.” Judas Is’cariot became the enemy and the accuser of his Divine Friend, and yet, as I judge, he had no per-unall illwill against Christ. Indeed, I imagine, Judas admired, and even reverenced, his Master, and certainly his dying -words give no countenance to the idea that the betrayer of Christ hated Hirn. I am not attempting to “white-wash” this man or hie deed. The story of Judas is a mystery of iniquity, on some sides of it. The world lias agreed to regard him as the chief of sinners, ami his black deed as without parallel in the w’orld of dark deeds. Nothing can j/alliate or excuse his crime. His villainy stands unique, for the simple reason that no one else had quite the same opportunity-

But, though in different form, the essential spirit of the Judas deed finds a thousand illustrations in modern life. For mark this well, any betrayal of a friend, any sacrifice of principle to expediency, any selling of conscience for pelf, is in spirit a repetition of the sin of Judas Iscariot. This man was no inhuman monster with a nature essentially different from our own. He fell as other men have fallen, and he supplies an example of something against which the Bible, from first to last, rings out sonorous warning. Men and women sell honor for the quiver of a nerve; sell truth for monetary gain; sell sense and reason for “a quart pot of heavy wet”; sell their immortal soul for Mammon. Believe me. the sin of Judas is not as rare as we think.

When Leonardo de Vinci was about to paint his great picture of the Last Supper, he went in search of some one to pose as a model for the picture of the Christ. He had in mind a person stately in form and graceful in bearing, with a kind, gentle, sympathetic face. He roamed the streets of Milan, and visited the homes, schools, and churches. When he was about to give up in despair he found a boy who corresponded to his conception of the Saviour. He was stately in form and graceful in bearing, with a face that reflected a clean mind and a pure heart. De Vinci arranged for him to pose for the figure of our Lord. The picture of Christ completed, the artist set to work on the picture of the disciples. Years passed on his task, and when he came to paint the picture of the betrayer, he went out again in search of one to pose as a model for Judas. This time he was looking for a different type. He had in mind a mean, treacherous, deceitful person, with hard, cruel face. To find such he. visited the saloons and questionable reports, and studied the faces of mon wasted by sin. At last he found the man who corresponded to his conception of a traitor, and engaged him to come to hie studio. When the man saw the picture of Christ, he bowed his head in shame and tears, for he was the one who a few years before had posed for the picture of the Christ? Sin had done its work. The model for the picture of Jesus had been transformed into the one chosen to pose as a model for Judas.

And now think, what was the motive of Judas? Temptation comes in the guise of Mr. Plausible, and persuades that there is really no reason why this or that should not be. done. Judas, you may be sure, thought he could find excuse, if not a reason, for acting ae he did. What were the possible motives? Impatience played its part. Jesus seemed so absurdly slow, so absurdly impractical, so absurdly other-worldly. With a crown and a kingdom within His roach. He spent His time in teaching a few dull people instead of sounding the toscin of battle. A few hardy Galileans, and a swift march, and the hated yoke of Rome would be shattered! Policy, too, played its part. If he took the thirty pieces of silver no great harm would be done. Christ could take 'care of Himself, and if the worst came to the worst, Christ would escape, out of their hands, as He had done before, nr the people would rise and “take Him by force, and Make Him a king.” Meanwhile Judas would have the shekels in his bag and “'spoil the Egyptions.” In i other words, it was a stratagem to force Christ to declare Himself. Persona) pique had its part. Dr. Matheson suggests that Judas was jealous. His merits had not been recognised, or his labor rewarded. He was treasurer to the twelve. He had done a good deal of work out of sight, and no honors had come his fray. He had been slighted, and would brook the slight no longer. He would assert himself, and force the issue. There are always mean natures who would rather see a cause wrecked

I than submit to a supposed affront, and Judas may have been one of them. Greed played its part. Saint John says Judas was a thief, and pilfered from the common purse. What will not men do for money? Ezekiel tells of men. “polluting God for a handful of barley, and for a piece of bread.” Amos speaks of “selling the righteous for silver and the poor for a pair of shoes!” To-day they “corner” the necessities of life and reap inflated profits out of the sorrows of the poor. There are men abroad, wearing a vast expanse of moral shirt front, who ought to be in gaol instead of serving at the Lord’s Table. They are selling Christ as truly as Judas did. Either of the motives I have named would account for the 1 Judas deed, and explain his ruin. But you may be sure, he did not realise the end of the road he had chosen to take. For the tragedy of wickedness is this, that the horror of it never appears until the wicked thing has been done. There is a weird touch in the Roman historian’s narrative of the crowning crime of Nero, in the murder of his mother Agrippina. He carried it • through remorselessly, and then, when s the grim fact stood before him, and he perceived what he had done, this is what Tacitus says: “The Emperor, when s the crime was at last accomplished, real- > ised its portentious guilt. The rest of . the night, now silent and stupefied, and • still oftene? 1 starting up in terror, bereft s of reason, he awaited the dawn.” ! Thus did Judas walk the sloping path, ■ step by step, to infamy. He saw the t glittering' shekels, and the chance of J being avenged and enriched; then the i tempter, who had appeared as “an angel of light,” cast off all disguises, and Judas, seeing what he had done, was overwhelmed with remorse and shame! That he was still capable of shame is evidence that the light in him was not en- ‘ tirely quenched. Had he been utterly ' depraved, he would have suffered no 8 qualms of conscience, and even when ! the shekels were burning in his palm, i had he hastened to confess his sin it would not have been too late, for there ’ was mercy in the Saviour’s heart and 3 cleansing in the Saviour’s blood. The j undoing of Judas was not his selling of p his Master, but his unr&pentance. “No- > thing damns save unbelief,” says Luf ther. Simon Peter denied Christ and re- » pentcd; Judas Iscariot sold Christ, and despaired; and the lesson lies in the ® saying of Edie Ocheltree: “Sinfif men p are we a’; but if ye wad believe an auld grey sinner that has seen the evil o’ his _ ways, there is as much promise atween the twa boards o’ the Testament as wad save the warst o’ us, could we but think e sac ” J WHY* JUDAS WAS CHOSEN. f ZJaybe, yon think T have forgotten the question with which I commenced this sermon: Why did Jesus Christ chose Ju- ‘ das? But *1 have not forgotten. I ’’ wanted you to get some fair idea of 0 this man, and if I have not quite fail- ‘ cd, you will perhaps feel that the better form of the question would be this, 11 “Why dd Jesus Christ choose me?” for 1 the sin of Judas is even now crouch- • ing at our door. Christ’s choice of Judas 5 suggests three things I cannot dwell 1 upon now. It provided evidence from * the inner circle of the moral perfection ‘ of Jesus Christ. “I have betrayed inno- ? cent blood,” cried this man, who had 5 known the Master on the most intimate " terms. 2. It qualified Christ to sympathise with the betrayed and forsaken. ‘ 3. It bears startling witness to the fact 1 that a man may come into close asso- ! - ciation With lincarnate goodhess, and 1 still remain a bad man. Our poet sings ' That “man needs choose the highest r when he see it.” It isn’t true. Judas - 1 saw Jesus, companioned with Him for three years, and then! Of his ultimate ‘ fate T say nothing, for I know nothing. 3 but I like to think that Christ called. ’ trusted, loved, and warned Judas in or--1 der to win him to God. Isn’t that Christ’s 1 way with you and me? 1 A soldier on the Western front said J to the Padre: “Sir. do you think it iy * true that if a chap has been a bit rack- ■ ety, and yet gives his life in this‘way, • he will be all right on the other side; ’ or will he have to go to hell?” The Padre replied: “Probably the issue is not quite * so sharp as y,u make it; few of us are b fit for highest heaven, or deepest hell. : But what would you do if you were r God?” I think I should give a fellow a 1 chance ” was the instant response. Jesus ’ Christ called Judas to give him a chance, ' just as He is calling you. Did Judas take ■his chance? I don’t know. For—The love of God is broader I Than the measure of man’s mind, ; And the heart of the Eternal i Is most wonderfully kind. i listen! Are you taking your > chance ?

An interesting sketch of life on an African ostrich farm appears in the Gentlewoman. A girl, who was first of all launched out in life in the dingiest possible London office, was met by the writer for the second time married, and under the following circumstances: —“Their property stretched far on every hand, set in a fertile valley, ringed with blue mountains, and rich in the inestimable boon of water ...

From the cool shade of the stoep I sat and watched the sun-stricken landscape in deep content. A warm and heavy perfume puffed from the mimosa thorn in lazy gusts, and on a table near by my hostess had piled a. great bowl o f nectarines, peaches, and grapes, to entertain me while she went calling across the veldt. In the blue distance I could see her Cape cart roll .steadily” along. Rich flats of lucerne lay gleaming before me, green as May meadows in an English spring.” The ostriches interested the visitor much. Absurd little lean-to hurdles were erected in each lot for the coupled ostriches. Firsr. of all came the billing and cooing time, but as laying time approached Mrs. Ostrich developed into a screaming, tearintr virago. The “ladies” chased their wretched spouses around from pillar to post, fighting, nagging, and worrying, till the wretched creatures were utterly subdued by want of sleep and food. Having reduced them to the extremity of docility, they then insisted that they should take their place on the nests at night. One lady ostrich was very scornful of her mate, and on inquiry the visitor found that he had been denuded of the fine white plumes which grow on the wings and tail—therefore the lady ostrich was not taking notice of such a shabby bird. The writer considered ostrich* farming both easy and profitable. The birds require little care compared with most farm stock, and in past days there were great profits made from the sale of the lovely feathers. Whether this sale flourishes for some years, is an unanswered question at present.

Ladies should protect themselves from coughs, colds, sore throats, etc., by putting about 10 drops of Nazol on a handkerchief and placing it inside a blouse. Use Nazol freely in this way—it does not injure the most delicate fab rie 3