him at tynes his life for my sake an the Gospel’s will sauf it. What the better o’d is a man gin he gains the haill warld an losses his life an saul? What hes he in aa his aucht tae niffer for his saul? Him at is affrontit wi me an my wurds i this ill-gíen an sinfu generâtion, the Son o Man will be affrontit wi him, whan he comes i the glorie o his Faither wi his halie angels.”
9 This, tae, he said: “Atweill, I tell ye, there is them staundin here at winna pree deith afore they hae seen the Kíngdom o God estaiblished on the yird in pouer.”
SAX DAYS EFTER, Jesus tuik Peter an Jeames an John an gaed awà wi them, their lane sels, up a heich hill. There an unco cheinge cam owre the luik o him afore their een, an his claes becam, oh! sae clair an white—the plashmiller drawsna breith at coud mak claes as white an skinklin. Belyve Elíjah kythed tae them, an Moses wi him, an the twa o them wis speakin wi Jesus.
Syne Peter tuik speech in haund an said til Jesus, “What better coud we want nor this, Maister? We s’ bigg ye three bouers, ane for yoursel, ane for Moses, an ane for Elíjah!” He wis juist sayin the first thing at cam intil his heid; the man wis frichtit out o his wit, an the lave nae less.
Syne a cloud cam an cuist its shaidow owre them, an a voice spak out o the cloud: “This is my beluvit Son; hairken ye him.” They luikit round at aince, but there wis nae-ane tae be seen; onlie Jesus wis wi them.
As they cam doun aff the hill, he baud them no mint a wurd o what they hed seen til onie-ane or the Son o Man hed risen frae the deid. Sae they keepit the maitter til themsels, tho they discussed wi ilk ither what he meaned wi his “risin frae the deid”. Syne they speired at him, “Hou is it the Doctors o the Law says at Elíjah maun come first?”
“It is een sae,” he answert: “Elíjah comes first an richts aathing. But hou says the Buik at the Son o Man is tae dree monie-thing an be houtit an nochtifíed? A-weill, I tell ye this: Elíjah hes comed else, an they hae dune til him aa they hed a mind til, een as the Buik tells o him.”
WHAN THEY CAM back til the ither disciples, they faund them i the mids o a muckle thrang, an a curn Doctors o the Law threapin wi them. The croud wis fair stoundit tae see Jesus, an immedentlie aa ran forrit tae walcome him.
“What’s your threap about?” he speired at them.
A man i the croud gíed him his answer: “Maister,” said he, “I hae brocht my son til ye. He hes a tung-tackit spírit, an whaniver it grips haud o him, it dauds him on the grund, an he freiths at the mou an chirks his teeth, an syne he gaes aa steive an stark. I spak tae your disciples tae cast it out, but they coudna.”
“Oh, this generâtion at hes nae faith!” said Jesus til them. “Hou lang will I ey be wi ye? Hou lang maun I ey thole ye? Bring him til me.”
Sae they brocht the lad til him, an whaniver it saw Jesus, the spírit 60twistit an twined the lad, an he fell tae the grund an rowed about faemin at the mou. Syne Jesus speired at his faither, “Hou lang time hes he been this gate?”
“Frae he wis a littlan,” said he; “an monitime it hes socht tae kill him an cuissen him intil the fire or intil watter. But gin ye can dae ocht, tak pítie on us an help us!”
“ ‘Can’?” qo Jesus. “Hae faith, an ye can dae aathing.”
“I hae faith,” the callan’s faither cried out: “help ye my want o it!”
Syne, seein at mair an mair fowk wis fest getherin round them, Jesus challenged the onclean spírit: “Deif an dumb spírit,” qo he, “come ye out o the lad, I, Jesus, commaund ye, an ne’er ging intil him mair.”
At that the spírit loot a loud skraich an, efter ruggin an rivin him sair, cam out o him. The loun lay there like a corp: deed, the maist feck o the fowk said he wis awà. But Jesus grippit him bi the haund, an wi his help the lad wan up on his feet.
Whan he wis inbye again, an they war their lanes, his disciples speired at him, “What wey wis it we coudna pit out the spírit?”
He answert, “This kind canna be pitten out bi onie mean but prayer.”
EFTER THIS THEY quat the pairt whaur they war, an fuir throu Galilee. Jesus wissed naebodie tae ken, because he wis nou teachin his disciples.
The Son o Man, he wis ey tellin them, wis tae be gíen up intil the haunds o men, an they wad pit him tae deith, an three days efter his deith he wad rise again. But they understuidna what he meaned, an dauredna queystin him anent it.
Sae they cam tae Capernaüm, an there, whan they war inbye, he speired at them, “What wis your threap on the road about?” But nocht said they, for they hed been threapin on the road about whilk o them wis the grytest.
Than he leaned him doun an, cryin the Twal til him, said til them, “Gin a man wad hae the first place, he maun tak the henmaist place o aa an be the servan o aa.” Syne he tuik a bairn an set him i the mids o them an, takkin him intil his oxter, said til them, “Onie-ane at walcomes a bairn sic as this i my name walcomes me, an him at walcomes me walcomes no me alane, but him at sent me.”
John said til him, “We saw a man at gingsna wi us castin out ill spírits in your name, an we socht tae hender him, because he gingsna wi us.”
“Hender-him-na,” qo Jesus; “nae-ane at wurks míracles in my name will can ging strecht an speak ill o me. Him at isna again us is for us. Gin onie-ane gíes ye a tass o watter because ye ar Christ’s, atweill, I tell ye, he s’ no gae wantin his rewaird. But gin onie-ane gars ane o thir hummle belíevers stammer an faa in sin, it wad be tellin him, gin he war cuissen intil the Loch wi a millstane about his craig. Gin your haund gars ye faa in sin, sneg it aff; it is better ye suid ging intil life wantin a limb nor hae baith haunds an ging til hell an the onslockenable fire. Gin your fit gars ye faa in sin, sneg it aff; it is better ye suid ging intil life cripple nor hae baith feet an be cuissen intil hell. Gin your ee gars ye faa in sin, rive it out; it is better ye suid ging intil the Kíngdom o God ae-ee’d nor hae baith een an be cuissen intil hell, whaur their wurm ne’er díes, an the fire is ne’er slockent. Ilkane will be sautit wi fire.
“A braw thing is saut: but gin it gaes wairsh, what will ye mak it sautie again wi? Ye maun hae saut in yoursels an líve in paice wi ilk ither.”
10 JESUS NOU TUIK the gate frae Galilee an gaed intil the kintra o Judaea an the pairts be-east the Jordan. Aince mair thrangs o fowk gethert about him, an he taucht them, as he wunt tae dae. Belyve a wheen Pharisees cam up an, seekin tae fankle him, speired him gin it wis leisome for a man tae divorce his wife.
Jesus answert wi the queystin, “What laid Moses doun in his Law for ye?”
“Moses gíed a man freedom tae divorce his wife,” said they, “bi the mean o a dismissal in write.”
“Weill kent he the dour, thrawn hairts o ye,” qo Jesus, “an it wis for that at he gíed ye that líshence in his law-buik. But frae God first made the warld, man an wuman made he them. For that a man will forleit his faither an his mither an haud til his wife, an the twasome will become ae flesh. Man an wife isna twa onie mair than, they ar but ae flesh; an what God hes joined thegither man maunna pit sindrie.”
Back inbye, the disciples speired him faurer on this maitter, an he said til them, “Onie man at divorces his wife wrangs her, an commits adulterie, gin he mairries anither wuman; an gin the wuman divorces her husband an mairries anither man, she commits adulterie.”
AE
