the waddin.’ Sae the servans gaed out intil the streets an gethert aa at they faund there—saunts, sinners, aa kinkind—till the muckle haa wis pang fu o guests.
“Whan the Kíng cam in tae tak a vízie o the companie, he saw a man at wisna cled in waddin-braws. ‘My fríend,’ qo he til him, ‘what ar ye daein here an ye no in your waddin-braws?’ But the man said naither ‘Eechie’ nor ‘Ochie’.
“Syne the Kíng said tae the servitors, ‘Binnd this man fit an haund, an cast him intil the mirk thereout!’ It is there at the yaumer an the chirkin o teeth will be; for monie-ane is bidden, but few is waled.”
SYNE THE PHARISEES the pharisees gaed their waas an tuik counsel hou they micht fangle him in an argiment; an the affcome o their colloguin wis at they sent their ain disciples, wi men o Herod’s pairtie, tae say til him, “Aabodie kens at ye ar honest an aivendoun, an your teachin o God’s wey for men is confeirin, nor ye carena a doit for onie-ane, for it’s nae odds tae ye wha a man is—tell us your mind anent the imperial poll-tax: hae we líshence tae pey it, or hae we no?”
Jesus saw weill their sleeness, an said tae them, “What for seek ye tae girn me, hýpocrítes at ye ar? Shaw me ane o the coins ye pey the tax wi.” They raxed him a merk, an he speired at them, “Wha’s heid is that? Wha’s name read ye there?”
“The Emperor’s,” said they.
“A-weill, than,” qo he, “pey the Emperor what perteins tae the Emperor, an pey God what perteins tae God.” That left them dumfounert; an, onsaid mair til him, they gaed their waas.
THE SAME DAY a wheen Sadducees—them at hauds out there is nae risin o the deid—cam up an speired a queystin at him: “Maister,” said they, “Moses laid doun at, gin a man díes laein nae bairns, his brither maun mairrie his wídow an raise a faimlie til him. Nou, the’ war aince seiven brithers whaur we belang. The first o them mairriet an díed an, no haein childer, left his wife til his brither. It gaed the same gate wi the saicond brither, an the third, an aa the lave o the seiven. Syne, efter aa the brithers wis awà, the wuman díed hersel. At the resurrection wha’s wife will she be, na? She wis mairriet, like, on them aa, ye see.”
Jesus answert, “Ye ar aa wrang for no kennin aither the Bible or the pouer o God! Whan the deid rises again, there is nae mair mairriein for man nor wuman; they ar een as the angels in heiven. An, as tae the resurrection o the deid, hae ye no read the wurds spokken tae ye bi God himsel: ‘I am the God o Abraham an the God o Isaac an the God o Jaucob’? He isna the God o the deid, but the lívin.”
This wis said i the hearin o the croud; an they war fair stoundit at his teachin.
WHAN THEY HEARED at he hed gart the Sadducees wheesht, the Pharisees met thegither, an ane o them at wis faur seen i the Law socht tae kittle him wi a queystin.
“Maister,” said he, “whilk is the grytest Commaund i the Law?”
He answert, “ ‘Thou sal luve the Lord thy God wi aa thy hairt an wi aa thy saul an wi aa thy wit.’ That is the first an grytest Commaund. The saicond is like it: ‘Thou sal luve thy neipour as thysel.’ On thae twa Commaunds hings the haill o the Law an the Prophets.”
Afore the Pharisees skailed, Jesus speired a queystin at them: “What is your thocht anent the Christ?” qo he. “Wha’s son is he?”
“Dauvit’s,” said they.
“Hou, than,” qo he, “dis Dauvit, speakin i the Spírit, caa him ‘lord’, whaur he says:
The Lord said til my lord,
‘Sit thou at my richt haund,
till I pit thy faes
aneth thy feet’?
Gin Dauvit caas him ‘lord’, hou can he be his son?”
That freelie fickelt them aa; an frae that day forrit naebodie daured speir onie mair queystins at him.
23 EFTER THIS, JESUS spak tae the croud an his disciples.
“The Doctors o the Law an the Pharisees,” qo he, “sits on Moses’ sait; an sae ye behuive tae dae an keep aathing at they say ye maun dae an keep. But daena as they dae, for their daein is no conform til their sayin. They mak up hivvie birns an lay them on ither men’s shuithers, but themsels they winna pit out a finger tae mudge them. Aathing they dae, they dae tae hae fowk glowrin efter them. They mak their text-chairms by-ordinar braid an the babs o their mantílles by-ordinar lang; they maun ey hae the first place at a denner, an a foresait i the meetin-houss; they ar ill for fowk tae bid them ‘Guid-day’ an ‘Guid-een’ i the mercat, an tae get ‘Rabbi’ frae aabodie. But latna fowk caa ye ‘Rabbi’, for ye hae but the ae maister an ar aa brithers til ilk ither. An caana onie-ane on the yird your ‘Faither’, for ye hae but the ae faither, your Faither in heiven. Latna fowk caa ye ‘Doctor’ aitherins, for the Christ is your Doctor. The grytest o ye aa maun be the servan o ye aa; an him at up-heizes himsel will be hummelt, an him at hummles himsel will be up-heized.
“Black s’ be your faa, Doctors o the Law an Pharisees, hýpocrítes at ye ar! Ye steik the yett o the Kíngdom o Heiven in men’s faces; ye gangna in yoursels, an them at seeks in ye hender tae win ben.
“Black s’ be your faa, Doctors o the Law an Pharisees, hýpocrítes at ye ar! Ye gang athort laund an sea tae mak ae convèrt, an whan ye hae him convertit, ye mak o him a Deivil’s limb double as ill as yoursels.
“Black s’ be your faa, blinnd gydes at says, ‘Him at sweirs bi the Temple, it is naething: but him at sweirs bi the gowd o the Temple is bund bi his aith.’ Blinnd fuils at ye ar, whilk is o mair account—the gowd, or the Temple at sanctifíes the gowd? Or again, ‘Him at sweirs bi the altar, it is naething,’ ye say: ‘but him at sweirs bi the gift upò’d is bund bi his aith.’ Blinnd men at ye ar, whilk is a mair account—the gift, or the altar at sanctifíes the gift? Na: him at sweirs bi the altar sweirs baith bi hit an bi aathing upò’d, an him at sweirs bi the Temple sweirs baith bi hit an bi him at dwalls in it, an him at sweirs bi heiven sweirs baith bi the throne o God an bi him at sits on it.
“Black s’ be your faa, Doctors o the Law an Pharisees, hýpocrítes at ye ar! Ye pey teinds o mint an anet an cummin, but mislippen the wechtier things o the Law—juistice, mercie, an guid faith. But thir things ye behuived tae practíse, onmislippent the ithers. Blinnd gydes at ye ar, 51ye stummle at a strae, an lowp owre a brae!
“Black s’ be your faa, Doctors o the Law an Pharisees, hýpocrítes at ye ar! The caup an the bicker ye dicht them weill ithout, but ithin they ar lippin-fu o greed an gilravagin. Oh, blinnd, blinnd Pharisees, first dicht the inside o the caup, an syne ye s’ hae the outside dichtit an clean as weill!
“Black s’ be your faa, Doctors o the Law an Pharisees, hýpocrítes at ye ar! Ye ar like white-wuishen graffs, at luiks bonnie an braw outside, but inside is fu o deid men’s banes an aa kin o filth an fulyie. Een sae wi ye: tae luik at ye, aabodie wad think ye honest, weill-daein fowk, but ithin ye ar pang fu o hýpocrisie an wickitness.
“Black s’ be your faa, Doctors o the Law an Pharisees, hýpocrítes at ye ar! Ye bigg the graffs o the Prophets an decore the lairs o the Saunts, an syne ye threap, ‘Gin we hed líved i the days o wir forebeirs, we wadna taen pairt wi them in skailin the bluid o the Prophets!’ Wi that ye gíe witness again yoursels at ye ar
