Part VII. From the Arrival at Bethany to the Ascension

Chapter I. The Anointing at Bethany—The Triumphal Entry. A.D. 30.

IT was apparently on a Friday evening when the Saviour reached the hamlet of Bethany, where in quiet retirement He could spend His last earthly Sabbath. At Bethany resided one Simon (Mtt. xxvi. 6; Mk. xiv. 3), who had been a leper, and possibly had been restored by the Lord Himself, and at his house the sisters of Lazarus provided a festal repast, to welcome Him who had in so signal a manner restored happiness to their little circle (Jn. xii. 2).

In keeping with her character Martha on this occasion busied herself in ministering to the Lord (Jn. xii. 2), while Lazarus reclined at the table as one of the guests. As the feast proceeded, Mary approached with an alabaster casket in her hand, containing a pound of precious spikenard (Jn. xii. 3), and breaking off the closed top (Mk. xiv. 3), poured a portion on the head of the Saviour. Then kneeling down she anointed His feet also (Jn. xii. 3), while the sweet odour diffused itself through the whole room.

But her act of beautiful affection did not win the approval of all the guests at the table. Judas Iscariot enquired why a casket of such precious unguent, which might have been sold for more than 300 denarii and given to the poor, should be wasted in such a useless piece of extravagance (Jn. xii. 5), and even others of the Apostles sympathised with his views, and had indignation and murmured against her (Mtt. xxvi. 8). He, however, for whom she had thus manifested her affectionate adoration, suffered scarcely a moment to elapse before He signified His opinion of that she had done. Not only did He bid the murmurers desist from troubling her, but declared that she had wrought a beautiful and worthy deed. The poor, for whom they pretended so much anxiety, they had always with them, but Himself they would not have always (Mk. xiv. 7), thus reminding them again of that speedy removal He had so often predicted. Moreover, He proceeded to declare that what she had done had a special significance. In reference to the mysterious event so soon about to befall Him, wherein He should receive so little assistance or comfort from any human being, she at least had done what she could (Mk. xiv. 8), she had come beforehand to anoint His Body for the burying, and wherever the Gospel should be preached throughout the whole world, there should also the deed which had moved their unworthy indignation be told for a memorial of her (Mtt. xxvi. 13; Mk. xiv. 9). Thus by a prophetic word He elevated and interpreted her act of affectionate adoration.

Thus the eventful evening wore on. Meanwhile the news of the Saviour’s presence at Bethany had reached Jerusalem, and great crowds (Jn. xii. 9) resorted thither not only to see Him but Lazarus also, whose resurrection from the dead caused many to avow their belief in the Lord of life (Jn. xii. 11). This fact was well known to the chief-priests, and a council was convened to consider the propriety of putting him also to death (Jn. xii. 10).

The next day dawned, the first day of the Holy week. Leaving Bethany, the Saviour proceeded towards Bethphage, and sending two of His disciples, desired them to bring an ass, and her colt with her, which they would find tied at the entrance of the village (Mtt. xxi. 2, 3; Lk. xix. 30; Mk. xi. 2). The disciples went, and in answer to the question of the owners (Lk. xix. 33), why they thus loosed them, replied, as bidden, that the Lord had need of them, and returned to their master.

The voice of ancient prophecy (Zech. ix. 9) had declared that her King would come to Zion meek, and sitting on an ass, and a colt the foal of an ass; and the hour for its fulfilment had now come. The road from Bethany to Jerusalem wound through rich plantations of palm-trees, and fruit- and olive-gardens, and was now crowded with pilgrims making their way towards the Holy City, or the encampments on the declivity of the Mount of Olives. Amongst these would naturally be many who had witnessed the Saviour’s miracles in Galilee, and their enthusiasm would be much increased by the news of the wondrous event at Bethany. The heart of the people, therefore, was deeply stirred, and the disciples, filled with the general excitement, spread their garments on the animals they had brought to their Master (Mtt. xxi. 7), and placed Him thereon. Soon the crowds began to express their joy in a more lively manner. Some strewed their garments on the rough mountain-path, others cut down branches from the neighbouring gardens, and threw them on the road before Him.

Meanwhile a second stream issuing from the Holy City (Jn. xii. 12) came forth to meet the Conqueror of Death, and meeting the others coming from Bethany, turned round, and swelled the long procession towards Jerusalem. As they approached the descent of the Mount of Olives (Lk. xix. 37), their feelings found expression in the prophetic language of the Psalms, and with loud Hosannas they glorified God (Lk. xix. 37), and proclaimed the approach of the Son of David to receive the kingdom of His Father, and to establish His Messianic kingdom (Mtt. xxi. 9; Mk. xi. 9). Certain of the Pharisees alone were found to murmur. They would have had the Saviour rebuke the zeal of the multitude, but pointing to the stones beneath their feet, He declared that they would immediately cry out if these were to hold their peace.

Thus amidst loud Hosannas the procession swept along, till on a nearer approach, the whole of the magnificent City, as if rising from an abyss, burst into view, “with its back-ground of gardens and suburbs,” and its glorious Temple-tower. The procession paused, and the hour of triumph became the hour of deepest sorrow. In strange contrast with the excited emotions of the crowds around Him, the Holy One wept over the devoted city, foresaw the Roman legions gathered round its fated walls, its proud towers laid low in the dust, and its children within it, because they knew not the day of their visitation (Lk. xix. 41–44).

Such things were hidden from the eyes of the eager throngs who were shouting “Hosanna,” and believed that now at length the Messiah, welcomed and accepted, would claim the sceptre and ascend the throne. Passing through the City the Holy One advanced towards the Temple. Jerusalem was stirred to its very centre. Who is this? enquired many. This is the Prophet, Jesus, of Nazareth of Galilee (Mtt. xxi. 10, 11), was the eager reply of His believing followers, expecting, doubtless, that some unmistakeable sign would be given of His real character.

They were doomed to disappointment. Entering the Courts of the Temple, He surveyed with a clear and searching glance (Mk. xi. 11) the scene of disorder and mercenary desecration which they again presented, and in the evening returned with the Twelve (Mk. xi. 11) to the seclusion of Bethany, and the great Palm-Sunday was over.

Chapter II. The Second Cleansing of the Temple. A.D. 30.

THE country between Bethany and Jerusalem, as has been observed in the previous Chapter, abounded in gardens of fig-trees, from which fact indeed Bethphage, or the “House of Figs,” derived its name.

Early in the morning after the Triumphal Entry the Saviour set out once more for the Holy City, where, as the inspection of the previous evening had too clearly testified, a second vindication of the sanctity of His Father’s house was needed. Being a hungred, probably after a night of fasting, and perceiving afar off (Mk. xi. 13) a fig-tree standing alone by the way side (Mtt. xxi. 19), which presented an unusual show of leaves for the season, He went up to it to see if haply He might find fruit thereon (Mk. xi. 13), but on reaching it found nothing but leaves. Though at this early period of the year neither leaves nor fruit were to be expected on a fig-tree, this tree by its ample foliage appeared to give promise of the fruit, which ordinarily appears before the leaves. But a nearer approach proved that this promise it fulfilled only in appearance, and in the hearing of His disciples the Holy One laid upon it the doom of utter barrenness, saying, Let no man eat fruit of thee hereafter for ever, and straightway it was dried up (Mtt. xxi. 19), and withered.

Passing onwards to Jerusalem, He entered the Temple. The nefarious scene He had rebuked at the first Passover of His public ministry was still enacted. The evil practices which had called forth that first display of holy zeal for the honour of His Father’s house had by degrees returned. The fruit, the reality of righteousness, which He had come seeking then and sought in vain, He found not now. As before, therefore, so on this occasion, He drove forth the intruders, the buyers, the sellers, and the money-changers, upset their tables, and poured forth their unholy gains, and declared in words of conscious authority that His House was not for thievish traffic, but for prayer and praise (Mk. xi. 17; Mtt. xxi. 13).

Having thus once more vindicated the sanctity of the Temple, He commenced teaching in its courts, and speedily gathered around Him many eager to listen, and astonished at His doctrine (Mk. xi. 18). But works of mercy were now to follow words of power. Those who needed His help sought Him in the Temple itself. The blind and the lame (Mtt. xxi. 14) came to Him, and experienced the effects of the healing word. The marvels that He wrought (Mtt. xxi. 15) moved the youngest pilgrims at the festival, and children’s voices cried Hosanna to the Son of David. This was more than the chief priests and scribes could endure. Eager as they were to put Him to death, they dared not lift a hand or show open violence, for the whole multitude hung upon Him to hear His words (Lk. xix. 48). In a tone of expostulation, however, they ventured to enquire whether He heard what these children were saying, to which He replied by asking whether they had never read the words of the Psalmist, Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected praise (Ps. viii. 2); with which rebuke He left them, and when even was come returned to Bethany (Mk. xi. 19; Mtt. xxi. 17).

As He proceeded towards Jerusalem on the following day, the Apostles observed with surprise how rapidly the tree doomed the day before had withered away. The late hour at which they left the City the preceding evening had probably prevented their noticing it before, and now the Saviour took occasion by it to teach them a lesson respecting the nature and power of Faith (Mtt. xxi. 20–22; Mk. xi. 20–25).

On entering the Temple and recommencing His gracious work of teaching those assembled there, He was interrupted by the arrival of a formal deputation from the Sanhedrin, which had resolved to discredit Him if possible with the people (Mtt. xxi. 23; Lk. xx. 1).

They began by enquiring by what authority He acted as He was doing, and from whom He had received it (Mk. xi. 28). This question the Holy One met by another. Two years before they had sent a deputation to the Baptist (Jn. i. 26), and he had borne a public and emphatic testimony to His Messianic claims. The prophetic character of John was generally admitted (Mtt. xxi. 26), and his bold rebuke of Herod had endeared him to the hearts of many—Whence, then, was his baptism, from heaven or from men? The question filled his hearers with embarrassment. If they replied that his was a divine commission, they exposed themselves to the obvious rejoinder, why had they not received his testimony respecting the Messiah? If they said of men, they would expose themselves to popular indignation (Mk. xi. 31, 32). Accordingly they preferred to own that they could not tell, whereupon He also declined to answer the question they had put to Him respecting His mission (Mtt. xxi. 27; Lk. xx. 8).

Though thus repulsed, His enemies do not appear to have left the Temple-courts, and were condemned to listen to still more humiliating language. In the parables of the Two Sons (Mtt. xxi. 28–32), and the Wicked Husbandmen (Mtt. xxi. 33–44; Mk. xii. 1–11; Lk. xx. 9–18), the Redeemer set forth with the utmost distinctness their neglect of their high vocation, the guilt of that outrage which they already meditated against Him in their hearts, their speedy rejection, and the bestowal of the privileges they had abused on other nations.

The drift of these parables the Pharisees and chief priests clearly discerned, and sought earnestly to lay hands upon Him (Mk. xii. 12; Lk. xx. 19), but feared to do so openly because of the multitude, who all regarded Him as a Prophet (Mtt. xxi. 46). Undeterred, however, by these manifestations of intended violence He warned them solemnly, for the last time, in the Parable of the Marriage of the King’s Son (Mtt. xxii. 1–14), that a day was at hand when the kingdom of God would be taken away from the Jewish people who had despised its privileges, and be bestowed upon the Gentiles.

Chapter III. The Day of Questions—The Enquiring Greeks. A.D. 30.

THUS far the efforts of the ruling powers had been of no avail. The authority of the Lord with the people remained unshaken, His career was unchecked, and they themselves had been humiliated in the very midst of the Temple-courts. A formal council was therefore held (Mtt. xxii. 15), and it was resolved to organize some plan for ensnaring Him in His speech (Mtt. xxii. 15; Mk. xii. 13), and beguiling Him into statements which might afford a pretext for delivering Him up to the Roman procurator (Lk. xx. 20). United, therefore, in one formidable conspiracy, the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Herodians, suborned (Lk. xx. 20) men, to all appearance right-minded and thoroughly in earnest, to propose various cases of conscience to Him as the Lord and Judge in the land.

i. First, then, approached the Herodians with certain of the Pharisees (Mtt. xxii. 16) enquiring whether it was lawful to give tribute to Cæsar, or not? How keenly this question was debated in Palestine, and what disturbances it had caused, especially in Galilee, the province of Herod, has been already noticed. To answer it now, and to avoid on the one hand giving offence to the excited crowds in the Temple-courts, and on the other supplying matter for accusation before the Roman governor in the Tower of Antonia, so close at hand, appeared impossible. No patriotic Jew would admit that tribute was due to Cæsar. No one claiming to be the Messiah could allow it for a moment, unless he would forfeit all his popularity with the people. And yet if the Redeemer denied this, a charge of treason, which the Romans were always quick to hear, was clearly made out. But the Holy One, thrown off His guard neither by the affected courtesy nor adulation of their address (Mtt. xxii. 18; Lk. xx. 23), saw through their hypocrisy and the snare they had laid. With infinite wisdom He called for the tribute-money. They brought Him a denarius. Whose image and superscription is this? He enquired. They answered, Cæsar’s. Render, therefore, He replied, to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s, and to God the things that are God’s. The snare they had laid so cunningly was broken. A single word had rent the whole “web of craft and hypocrisy.” The enquirers themselves acknowledged the wisdom of His answer. There was nothing they could take hold of (Lk. xx. 26). They were silent, and went their way (Lk. xx. 26).

ii. The Herodians thus repulsed, the Sadducees approached. With their wonted philosophic pride they usually kept aloof from all popular religious movements. Now, however, they advanced to the encounter with a religious difficulty respecting the position in another world of a woman who had had seven husbands in this. But their coarse question was met with Divine wisdom. Had they known the Scriptures, or the power of God, they could never have asked it (Mtt. xxii. 29). Such corporeal and earthly relationships ceased with this life, and in the next man would be exalted to a higher order of beings by the almighty power of Him, who even in the Law, which they professed to receive, had declared Himself the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God of the living, and not of the dead (Ex. iii. 6).

iii. Struck with the singular wisdom, with which He had put the Sadducees to silence (Mtt. xxii. 34), a scribe belonging to the Pharisaic sect (Mk. xii. 28) now drew near, requesting information as to the relative greatness of the commandments of the Law (Mtt. xxii. 36). The point was probably one much debated in the Rabbinical schools, though it is not clear in what way it was calculated to ensnare the Saviour. But the sublime, though simple response it received, comprising the whole of religion, under the precepts of Love to God and Love to Man, struck even the questioner with admiration (Mk. xii. 32); he frankly owned that such love was better than all burnt-offerings and sacrifice, and obtained the gracious declaration from the Redeemer that he was not far from the kingdom of God (Mk. xii. 34).

After such successive proofs of Divine wisdom the Pharisees did not venture to put any more questions to the Redeemer, and He Himself, taking advantage of the opportunity, now assumed the character of a questioner, and interrogated them (Mtt. xxii. 41) respecting the descent of the Messiah. Speaking under the influence of the Spirit, David in the Psalms (Ps. cx. 1) had called Him Lord, saying, The Lord said unto My Lord, Sit Thou on my right hand, till I have made Thy foes a footstool for Thy feet. If the Messiah was to be David’s son, how could He be at the same time his Lord, thus mysteriously uniting a Divine and a human nature?

To this profound question those addressed did not even venture to make a reply, and were in their turn constrained to listen, while in words of awful and righteous judgment He denounced the hypocrisy (Mtt. xxiii. 1–12) and tyranny (Mtt. xxiii. 13–18) of the Pharisees, their bigoted attachment to the most minute observances, and their blindness to the spirit of true religion (Mtt. xxiii. 18–36), which had led them to pour out the blood of Jehovah’s prophets, even as they now thirsted for His own. For them and for their city the hour of desolation was at hand. The times of mercy, when He would have gathered the children of Jerusalem as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wing (Mtt. xxiii. 37–39), had passed away, never to return.

After this stern denunciation of the ruling powers, who veiling their malice and wickedness under the pretence of righteousness had so pertinaciously sought to entrap Him, the Redeemer sat down opposite the Treasury, in the Court of the Women, and looking up beheld the multitude casting in their voluntary gifts and contributions. Amongst the rest His eye rested on a certain poor widow, one of the helpless class which He had just described as devoured by the extortion of the Scribes and Pharisees (Mk. xii. 40; Lk. xx. 47). All her possessions consisted of two mites, which together made a farthing, both of which she now cast into the Treasury, and knew not that One had called to Him His disciples (Mk. xii. 43), and declared that she had cast in more than all the rest, and that her gift should be known and remembered till the end of time.

It was apparently while the Redeemer was still in the Court of the Women that two of the Apostles, Andrew and Philip, approached Him with what they deemed a strange announcement. Amongst the thousands that crowded the Holy City were certain Greeks, not Grecian Jews, but Gentiles, proselytes of the gate, who were in the habit of coming up to the Feast. In common with many others they had heard of the famed Teacher of Nazareth, of His mighty works, and His wondrous words, and they wished with their own eyes to behold Him (Jn. xii. 21). Shrinking, however, from approaching Him directly, they had applied to the Apostle Philip, possibly on account of his Græcised name, saying, Sir, we would see Jesus. Philip, apparently perplexed, consulted his brother Apostle Andrew, and together the two went and told their Lord.

No sooner did the Saviour hear their announcement, and perhaps behold these enquirers from the West, than He instantly broke forth into words of mysterious joy: The Hour, He declared, as if in a transport of holy rapture, The Hour is come that the Son of Man should be glorified. Verily, verily I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life shall keep it unto life eternal. If any man serve Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there will also My servant be; if any man serve Me, him will My Father honour (Jn. xii. 24–26).

But with the thought of the seed-corn cast into the ground and dying, and the spectacle of these pledges of the vast multitude He should draw unto Him if He was lifted up, came the thought of all that He must first undergo. There fell upon Him the shadow of the dreadful hour so close at hand, and He exclaimed, Now is My soul troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save Me from this hour; and then, as though a cloud had rolled away, the perfectly willing spirit spoke again, For this cause came I unto this hour: Father, glorify Thy Name (Jn. xii. 27, 28).

But these words, expressive of such deep, such infinite resignation, were not to pass unheeded; they called forth the last of the Three Heavenly Voices, which, during His life on earth, attested the Divinity of His mission. The Voice, which had been heard on the banks of Jordan and on the Mount of Transfiguration, was now heard in the courts of the Temple itself, saying in response to the Redeemer’s significant utterance, Father, glorify Thy Name; I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.

Various were the interpretations of this mysterious Voice by the surrounding crowd. Some thought that it thundered, others that an angel had spoken to Him (Jn. xii. 29). But the Redeemer set all doubts at rest, saying, This Voice came not because of Me, but for your sakes; and then He exclaimed in the same strain of triumph, which the announcement of two Apostles respecting the enquiring Greeks had called forth, Now is the judgment of this world; now shall the Prince of this world be cast out; and I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me, signifying, adds the Evangelist, by what death He should die.

This striking incident was the appropriate close of this great day in the Temple. The public work of the Holy One was now over. He had given His last counsels and His final warnings to the ruling powers; He now departed and hid Himself from them (Jn. xii. 36). In spite of the mighty works He had wrought (Jn. xii. 37), the Jewish nation did not believe on Him. Many, indeed, of the rulers could not resist the evidence of His life and works, but they dared not openly avow their faith for fear of the Pharisees and the terrible ban of excommunication (Jn. xii. 42).

As thus, however, He quitted the Temple, which as a Teacher He was never to enter again, a striking incident took place. His disciples began to invite His attention to the magnificence and solidity of the structure, the enormous size of the stones (Mk. xiii. 1), the glistering of its marble blocks, and the gorgeous gifts with which it was endowed (Mtt. xxiv. 1; Lk. xxi. 5). But their words of admiration could not mislead Him. The imposing building might seem to them to be founded for eternity. But He told them that a day was coming, when not one of these enormous masses of stone should be left standing upon the other.

With this mysterious announcement of a dreadful doom awaiting their national sanctuary ringing in their ears, the Apostles accompanied their Lord along the well-known road towards Bethany. But when they reached the Mount of Olives, He sat down (Mtt. xxiv. 3; Mk. xiii. 3), as if to take one last look at the glorious city and its still more glorious Temple. And as He sat there directly opposite to it in the evening twilight, four of the Apostles, Peter, James, John, and Andrew (Mk. xiii. 3), disquieted by the announcement of the coming destruction of their City, approached with an earnest enquiry when all these things should come to pass, and what should be the sign of His coming, and of the end of the world (Mtt. xxiv. 3; Lk. xxi. 7).

In reply to their enquiries the Holy One, with the utmost conceivable solemnity, proceeded to set forth the judgments destined to befall Jerusalem, and from these to lead up their thoughts to the contemplation of His own second coming to judge the world (Mtt. xxiv. 5–42), to describe the events that should precede it, and to enforce the necessity on their part of watchfulness and preparation by the striking parables of the Ten Virgins (Mtt. xxv. 1–13) and the Talents (Mtt. xxv. 14–30), closing His solemn revelations with a distinct declaration of the circumstances of the Awful Day, when the Son of Man should come in His glory to judge both the quick and dead (Mtt. xxv. 31–46).

Chapter IV. The Compact of Judas—The Last Supper. A.D. 30.

AT the close of these solemn prophecies the Redeemer reminded the Apostles that after two days the Passover would be celebrated, and the Son of Man would be betrayed to be crucified (Mtt. xxvi. 1, 2). Having thus indicated the precise time, when the Hour so often spoken of before should come, He retired in all probability to Bethany, and there, hidden in holy seclusion (Jn. xii. 36), spent the last day preceding His sufferings.

Meanwhile the rulers of the nation were holding a formal and deliberate consultation as to the best means for putting Him to death. Humbled as they had been that day in the Temple in the eyes of the people, and disappointed in all their projects of ensnaring Him in a capital charge, they saw that their influence was lost unless they were willing to take extreme measures. The chief priests, therefore, the scribes, and the elders (Comp. Mtt. xxvi. 3; Mk. xiv. 1) assembled not in their usual place of conclave, the hall Gazith on the Temple Mount, but in the court of the palace of Caiaphas, the high-priest (Mtt. xxvi. 3). He, as we have seen, had already advised that the Holy One should be put to death, and doubtless many of those present would have gladly resolved on seizing Him by force. But by degrees they became alive to the difficulties of the case.

The recent events on the day of the Triumphal Entry convinced them of the great influence which the Redeemer wielded over many of the nation, and especially the bold and hardy mountaineers of Galilee. The only place where He appeared in public after the nights had been spent at Bethany was the Temple. But to seize Him there in the present excited state of popular feeling would certainly lead to a tumult (Mtt. xxvi. 5; Mk. xiv. 2; Lk. xxii. 2), and this to the interposition of the procurator in the fortress of Antonia. Forcible and hasty measures were therefore to be avoided, and it was formally resolved to take Him by craft, and therefore secretly, and for this purpose to await a favourable opportunity.

While, however, they were thus debating, a mode of apprehending Him suddenly presented itself which they had never anticipated. Judas Iscariot, whose chagrin at the discovery of His real character and the rebuke of His Master on the evening of the Anointing at Bethany has been already described, approached with an enquiry as to the sum they were willing to give him in the event of his betraying the Holy One into their hands (Mtt. xxvi. 14). Thereupon with a joyous alacrity (Mk. xiv. 11; Lk. xxii. 5) they covenanted to give him thirty pieces of silver, and he on his part began to watch for a seasonable occasion of delivering Him into their hands, without rousing the feelings of the multitude (Lk. xxii. 6).

Thus, then, the day of seclusion at Bethany, the Thursday of the Holy Week, passed away. Meanwhile the hour for the celebration of the Passover drew near. The Saviour had already reminded His disciples of its approach, and connected it with His own death. Accordingly the Apostles now enquired of Him where He intended to celebrate it, and in reply He bade two of their number, Peter and John, go into the city (Lk. xxii. 8), and informed them that on entering it they would meet a man bearing a pitcher of water, whom they were to follow to whatever house he should enter. On reaching it they were to address to the owner of this house the significant words, The Master saith, My time is at hand; where is the guest-chamber where I may eat the Passover with My disciples? and he would shew them a large upper-room furnished and prepared; there they were to make ready (Mtt. xxvi. 18; Mk. xiv. 14; Lk. xxii. 11).

Thus directed, the two Apostles went their way, and found everything as their Lord had described with such striking minuteness. The large upper-room is represented as already furnished and prepared (Mk. xiv. 15; Lk. xxii. 12). Hence we may perhaps infer that the searching for and putting away of every particle of leaven (1 Cor. v. 7), so important a preliminary to the Passover, had already been carried out, and that the preparation made by the Apostles included the provision of the unleavened cakes, of the bitter herbs, and the cups of wine; of everything, in short, that could be prepared on the day before the sacrifice of the Paschal Lamb.

This done, they probably returned to their Lord, who later in the evening, when the hour was come (Lk. xxii. 14), left the little village of Bethany, crossed the Mount of Olives, and entering the city repaired with the Twelve to the upper-room. There they sat down, or reclined, according to the usual custom, and the Redeemer, taking the place of Celebrant or Proclaimer of the Feast, said, With desire have I desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I say unto you, I will no more eat thereof until it be fulfilled in the Kingdom of God. With these words He took a Cup, the first Cup we may believe, usually devoted to the “announcement” of the Feast, and gave thanks, and said, Take ye this, and divide it amongst you; for I say unto you, I will not drink of the fruit of the Vine, till the Kingdom of God shall come (Lk. xxii. 17, 18).

But even now, even in this solemn hour, the old contention touching priority again broke out among the Apostles (Lk. xxii. 24). Thereupon the Holy One spake a few gentle but solemn words to repress so unseemly a dispute (Lk. xxii. 25–30); and to teach them in the most striking manner possible a lesson of humility, took upon Him the form of a servant, and girding Himself with a towel washed His disciples’ feet (Jn. xiii. 1–6). Simon Peter, with his wonted impetuosity, would have checked the loving designs of His Master, and when the Redeemer told him that, unless He washed his feet he had no part with Him (Jn. xiii. 9), with that quick revulsion so natural to him, he begged that He would wash not only his feet, but his hands and his head. He that hath bathed, replied his Master, needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit; and ye are clean, but not all (Jn. xiii. 10, 11).

With this sad intimation of treachery in their midst the Feast was resumed, and probably the second Cup of Wine was drunk. But soon the consciousness of the Traitor’s presence so wrought upon the Saviour, that His inmost soul was deeply moved and troubled, and He testified and said, Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you will betray Me (Jn. xiii. 21). This announcement excited great surprise and deep sorrow among the Apostles, and many were the earnest questionings, Lord, is it I? At length He gave a special and private indication to the disciple that reclined upon His bosom. He was the Traitor to whom He should give the sop, when He had dipped it (Jn. xiii. 26). At this point Judas Iscariot, though he had already made his compact with the chief priests, dared to enquire, Lord, is it I? (Mtt. xxvi. 25). Thou hast said, replied the Redeemer, and gave him the sop, adding shortly afterwards, That thou doest do quickly (Jn. xiii. 27). The real import of these words remained unknown to the rest of the Apostles, and they imagined that they related only to the provision of something needed for the feast, or the bestowal of some charity on the poor. As soon, then, as he had received the sop, Judas arose and went forth to execute his awful purpose, and it was night (Jn. xiii. 30).

On his departure the Saviour was no more troubled in spirit, but brake forth into the same triumphant language which fell from His lips when He heard of the request of the Greeks in the Temple Courts: Now, said He, is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in Him; if God is glorified in Him, God will also glorify Him in Himself, and will straightway glorify Him (Jn. xiii. 31, 32).

Again the Meal proceeded, and soon taking one of the unleavened cakes that had been placed before Him, and giving thanks, probably in the usual words, He brake it, and gave it to His Apostles, saying,

Take, eat: this is My Body, which is given for you: do this in remembrance of Me.

Afterwards He took a Cup of wine, in all probability the third Cup, and known as the “Cup of blessing,” and having offered thanks, gave it unto them saying,

Drink ye all of this; for this Cup is My Blood of the New Covenant, which is shed for you and for many, for the remission of sins: this do ye, as oft as ye shall drink it, in remembrance of Me.

The Holy Eucharist thus instituted, He conversed with the Apostles concerning the events that were soon to happen to Himself and them, how they would desert Him in His most critical and trying hour, how their faith would fail, how they would be dispersed each unto his own. These announcements of coming failure sounded unbearable to the Apostle Peter. Lord, said he, I am ready to go with Thee unto prison and to death—I am ready to lay down my life for Thee (Mtt. xxvi. 33; Jn. xiii. 37). Verily, verily, I say unto thee, replied the Master, in solemn words, This night, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny Me thrice (Mtt. xxvi. 34; Mk. xiv. 30; Jn. xiii. 38). But this sad announcement, so far from solemnising the Apostle’s feelings, provoked him to fresh protestations of fidelity (Mk. xiv. 31). With still greater vehemence he declared, If I should die with Thee, I will not deny Thee; and in these well-meant but short-sighted declarations the rest of the Apostles joined also (Mtt. xxvi. 35; Mk. xiv. 31).

And now, whereas at the usual Paschal Feast it had been customary to continue long in religious conversation respecting the great events of the Exodus, and the national deliverance from Egypt, so on this occasion did the Saviour continue long in earnest conversation with His chosen ones. But He spake to them of other and still more exalted themes; of His own departure to the Father and the coming of the Comforter (Jn. xiv. 1–31); of Himself as the true Vine and His disciples as the branches (Jn. xv. 1–6); of the hatred of the world and its sin against Him (Jn. xv. 18–25); of the trials which the Apostles must expect, and the assured aid of the Comforter (Jn. xvi. 1–16); of offering up prayer in His name (Jn. xvi. 23–27). And at the close of these solemn and affecting discourses, lifting up His eyes to heaven in rapt and solemn devotion, He committed the Apostles to the guardian care of the Eternal Father, and dedicated to Him His own completed work, contemplating it once more in its issues not only on these then present, but on all that should believe on His Name (Jn. xvii.).

The night was now far advanced. A hymn, probably the Hallel, was sung, and the Apostles went forth with their Lord through the quiet streets of the city towards the Mount of Olives (Mtt. xxvi. 30; Mk. xiv. 26).

Chapter V. The Agony and Betrayal—Peter’s Denial. A.D. 30.

THE road, which the Redeemer and His Apostles now traversed, led across the Kidron, and thence to a garden at the foot of the Mount of Olives, which from the produce of the adjacent hills was called Gethsemane, or the oil-press, and was a spot to which He often resorted with His disciples (Jn. xviii. 2).

On reaching this garden, the Holy One left the greater number of His Apostles at the outskirts (Mtt. xxvi. 36), while with three chosen witnesses, Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, He Himself advanced further into the shadow of the overhanging olives. Here He began to be sore amazed (Mk. xiv. 33) and very heavy (Mtt. xxvi. 37; Mk. xiv. 33), and His soul exceeding sorrowful even unto death, and as a last request He begged them to watch, while He proceeded about a stone’s throw further (Lk. xxii. 41) and engaged in solitary prayer. And now had come the hour for the last and most terrible assault of the Prince of Darkness (Comp. Lk. iv. 13). Kneeling down (Lk. xxii. 41), and falling forward on the earth (Mk. xiv. 35), He twice prayed that, if it were possible, the cup of suffering might pass from Him, and as often with infinite resignation added, Not as I will, but as Thou wilt (Mtt. xxvi. 39). Soon the conflict deepened in intensity, and being in an “agony” He prayed yet more earnestly, while drops of bloody sweat fell from Him, and testified to the terrible nature of His sufferings (Lk. xxii. 44). Twice, as if to assure Himself of their sympathy and watchfulness, He came to the three Apostles, who had promised so eagerly even to die with Him, and twice He found them sleeping (Mtt. xxvi. 40, 43). The first time He awoke them, saying to Simon, Simon, sleepest thou? couldest not thou watch with Me one hour? Watch and pray, lest ye enter into temptation (Mk. xiv. 37, 38). But on the second occasion He uttered not a word. Alone He retired to renew once more the conflict, and to offer for the third time the prayer of mingled entreaty and resignation to His Father in heaven; and then, having been strengthened by an angelic being, He for the third time revisited the Apostles to find them still sleeping. On this occasion, however, He awoke them, and with words of sorrowful expostulation told them that the golden opportunity for watching and prayer was over: Rise, said He, let us be going; behold he that betrayeth Me is at hand (Mtt. xxvi. 46; Mk. xiv. 42).

He had scarcely spoken, when the Garden was filled with armed men, and flashed with the light of numerous lanterns and torches. At the head of a portion of the Roman cohort with its captain (Jn. xviii. 12) in attendance on the procurator (Jn. xviii. 3), and of the Levitical guards of the Temple, attendants and apparitors of the Sanhedrin, the traitor approached. Advancing he saluted his Master with a kiss, the signal which had been agreed upon, and received the reproachful reply, Friend, wherefore art thou come? betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss? (Mtt. xxvi. 50; Lk. xxii. 48). Having thus rebuked the traitor, the Lord proceeded towards the entrance of the garden (Jn. xviii. 4), and meeting the soldiers and officers enquired whom they sought. They replied, Jesus of Nazareth. I am He, answered the Holy One, and immediately, awed by His calm majesty and the sudden appearance of One whose name had so long had for them a mysterious significance, they recoiled backwards and fell to the ground (Jn. xviii. 6). Whom seek ye? the Redeemer again enquired, and when they answered as before, again declared that He was the object of their search, and covenanting only for the safe dismissal of His followers, freely surrendered Himself into their hands (Jn. xviii. 7–9).

But one of His followers was not minded to yield thus willingly. Drawing his sword the impetuous son of Jonas cut off the ear of Malchus, a servant of the high-priest. The soldiers were just on the point of laying hands on the Holy One, and taking Him into custody, but seeing what His Apostle had done, He said to them, Suffer ye thus far, and touching the ear of the wounded man restored it whole as before (Lk. xxii. 51); then rebuking the disciple for his over-hasty zeal, and protesting meekly against the mode in which He had been arrested by His captors, He allowed Himself to be bound and led towards the city; for it was their hour and the power of darkness (Lk. xxii. 53).

On the part of the Apostles all was now terror and confusion. Though they had all promised to die with Him, they now forsook their Master and fled (Mtt. xxvi. 56; Mk. xiv. 50). Their last hope of a temporal kingdom of the Messiah had crumbled to pieces.

Meanwhile the Roman guard and the officers (Jn. xviii. 12) led the Saviour over the Kidron, and up the road leading into the city, and either at the suggestion of some of the ruling powers, or in accordance with previous concert, conducted Him to the palace of Annas, who as the father-in-law of Caiaphas, and as an able and experienced counsellor, had great influence with the nation.

It is not improbable that both Annas and his son-in-law occupied a common official residence, and that before it or within the outer porch was a large square open court, in which public business was transacted. Into this court or hall the Redeemer was led, and thither two of the Apostles, John and Peter (Jn. xviii. 15), recovering from their first alarm, ventured to follow. The former, as being acquainted with the high-priest, easily obtained admittance into the hall, but Peter appears to have been at first rejected by the porteress. After a while John missed his companion, and going back spake to the porteress, who thereupon immediately allowed him to enter (Jn. xviii. 16).

The night was chilly, and the servants having made a fire of charcoal in the centre of the court, were warming themselves before it (Jn. xviii. 18; Mk. xiv. 54), and thither Peter pressed forwards, anxious to see the end (Mtt. xxvi. 58). As he sat there, the porteress, whose suspicions appear to have been aroused, approached the group, and fixing her eye steadfastly upon him (Lk. xxii. 56) said, Surely thou art one of this Man’s disciples. Thrown off his guard, and perhaps disconcerted by the searching glances of the bystanders, the Apostle replied at first evasively, I know not what thou sayest (Mtt. xxvi. 70; Mk. xiv. 68), and then more strongly, I know Him not (Lk. xxii. 57; Jn. xviii. 17).

Thus silenced the maid withdrew, and after a brief delay the Apostle, anxious probably for a favourable opportunity of retiring, went back towards the porch (Mtt. xxvi. 71; Mk. xiv. 68). But here another maid approached and said to the bystanders, This fellow was also with Jesus of Nazareth (Mtt. xxvi. 71). Thus a second time assailed, and not knowing what might happen, his faith again failed him, and with an oath he declared I know not the Man (Mtt. xxvi. 72); and the cock crew.

While this sad scene of moral cowardice was going on, Annas began to put several questions to the Saviour respecting His disciples and His doctrine (Jn. xviii. 19). Thus interrogated, the Redeemer appealed to the publicity of His teaching, and referred His enquirer to His hearers, whom he had so often addressed in the wonted places of resort, the synagogue and the Temple (Jn. xvii. 20, 21): He had no secret doctrines, and no secret society of dependants for purposes either of tumult or sedition. This reply was the signal for the first beginning of a dreadful scene of insult and violence. An officer of the high-priest struck Him on the mouth, saying, Answerest thou the high-priest so? If I have spoken ill, bear witness of the ill, meekly replied the Holy One, but if well, why smitest thou me? (Jn. xviii. 22–24).

The day was now rapidly dawning, and the Sanhedrin, which had been hastily summoned, had begun to assemble. Annas therefore sent the Saviour, who was still in bonds, to the official judgment-hall of Caiaphas (Jn. xviii. 24), and it was not improbably as He was crossing the court, that He turned and looked upon the Apostle, who now for the third time denied that he had ever known Him. Recognised at the porch, Peter, it would seem, had returned again to the fire, and there mingling with the group of soldiers and servants (Jn. xviii. 25), conversed with them freely in his rough uncouth Galilæan dialect. This excited suspicion, and an hour had scarcely elapsed (Lk. xxii. 59) before certain of the bystanders began to express their opinions. Surely, said one, this fellow was one of them. Thou art a Galilæan, said another (Mk. xiv. 70). Thy speech bewrayeth thee, added a third (Mtt. xxvi. 73). Did I not see thee in the garden with Him? broke in a fourth, a kinsman of the servant whose ear the Apostle had cut off (Jn. xviii. 26). Thus attacked on all sides he fell deeper still. With oaths and curses (Mtt. xxvi. 74; Mk. xiv. 71) he declared, I know not the Man, and for the second time the cock crew (Mk. xiv. 72). It was this base denial that the Holy One now overheard. Turning round He looked upon Peter (Lk. xxii. 61). The remembrance of all that He had said rushed to the Apostle’s recollection. He could not linger a moment in that Presence. His faith indeed had not utterly failed, but Satan had sifted him as wheat. He went forth and wept bitterly (Mtt. xxvi. 75; Lk. xxii. 62).

Chapter VI. The Jewish Trial—Remorse and Suicide of Judas. A.D. 30.

BY this time the entire body of the Sanhedrin had assembled in the palace of Caiaphas, and the Redeemer was placed before them.

The first object was to secure the agreement of two witnesses on some specific charge (Mtt. xxvi. 59; Mk. xiv. 55). But this was found to be a matter of the utmost difficulty. Many indeed were at hand suborned to utter any falsehood, but their testimony was so confused and contradictory (Mk. xiv. 56), that the council could not receive it. At length two were found who could testify to the words the Holy One had uttered on the occasion of His first visit to the Temple. This fellow said, was their charge, I will destroy this Temple made with hands, and in three days I will raise up another made without hands (Mk. xiv. 58). But besides the fact that their allegations were exaggerated, they themselves did not agree in their statements (Mk. xiv. 59), and though eager to pronounce the capital sentence, the council felt themselves unable with any decency to do so on such evidence.

Meanwhile the Redeemer preserved a solemn and impressive silence, neither interrupting, nor replying to the questions of the high-priest or the statements of His accusers (Mtt. xxvi. 62; Mk. xiv. 60). He condescended not to any defence.

Nothing therefore remained but, if possible, to make Him criminate Himself. Once more, then, the high-priest stood up in the midst (Mk. xiv. 60), and in the most solemn manner adjured Him in the name of Jehovah to declare whether He was the Messiah, the Son of God (Comp. Mtt. xxvi. 63; Mk. xiv. 61).

Thus formally addressed, the Holy One at length broke the silence He had hitherto maintained, saying, in reply to the question, I am; and hereafter ye shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven. He thus in the most solemn and explicit manner asserted that He was not only the Messiah, but the Son of God, and that in the sublimest sense of the words.

All was now uproar and confusion. In token of his horror the high-priest rent his clothes, and pronounced the utterance of the Redeemer to be direct and treasonable blasphemy. What further need, he exclaimed, have we of witnesses? Ye have heard His blasphemy: what think ye? (Mtt. xxvi. 65; Mk. xiv. 63, 64). Carried away by his vehement gestures and words, and his great influence, the court pronounced their opinion, He is guilty of death (Mtt. xxvi. 66). Worse than false prophet, worse than false Messiah, He had declared Himself to be the Son of God, and that in the presence of the high-priest and the great council of the nation. He had incurred the capital penalty.

And now ensued a scene of fearful violence. The bystanders were permitted to do their worst to One thus declared guilty of blasphemy. Some spat upon His face; others smote Him with the palms of their hands; others blindfolded Him, and in derision of His Messianic claims bade Him detect the hand that had been raised against Him (Mtt. xxvi. 67, 68; Mk. xiv. 65; Lk. xxii. 63, 64).

But though the great council of the nation had thus passed sentence, there remained a serious obstacle before they could carry it out. Cases punishable with death, such as false claims to prophetic inspiration, or blasphemy, they were fully competent to try (Comp. Acts iv. 5–21; v. 17–40; vi. 12–15; xxiii. 1–10), but they could not execute the sentence of death, for the right had been taken from them ever since Judæa became a Roman province. Mistrusting, therefore, the people who might attempt to rescue the Holy One from the hands of their own officers, reluctant to incur the odium of profaning so sacred a day with a public execution, anxious to shift the responsibility from their own head upon that of the Romans, yet determined to insure the destruction of their Victim, they again reassembled their court (Mtt. xxvii. 1; Mk. xv. 1), and resolved to send the Redeemer before the tribunal of Pilate, who, they might not unreasonably suppose, “would not hesitate, at once, and on their authority, on the first intimation of a dangerous and growing party, to act without further examination or inquiry, and without scruple add one victim more to the robbers and turbulent insurgents, who, it appears, were kept in prison, in order to be executed, as a terrible example at that period of national concourse.” Pilate had, as usual, come up to Jerusalem to preserve order during the Passover, and was now residing either in a palace near the tower of Antonia, or in the splendid and luxurious structure which had been erected by Herod the Great. Thither, therefore, the Saviour, after He had been again placed in bonds (Mtt. xxvii. 2), was led, attended by a deputation of the Sanhedrin to support and explain the charge.

Meanwhile the fact of His condemnation had become known to the traitor Judas (Mtt. xxvii. 3), and filled him with the deepest remorse. Hitherto he had been lured on by covetousness, and his eyes had been blinded by the Evil One. Now they were opened, and he saw what he had done. He had betrayed innocent blood (Mtt. xxvii. 4). Filled with terror and anguish, he hurried to the chief priests and elders, and openly confessed his awful crime. But they received his confession with gibes and taunts. What is that to us? said they; see thou to that (Mtt. xxvii. 4). In frantic despair the wretched man resolved to get rid of the reward of his treachery. Rushing into the sanctuary he flung down the thirty pieces of silver before the priests, and went and hanged himself (Mtt. xxvii. 5), but, probably in consequence of the rope breaking, he fell headlong, and burst asunder in the midst (Acts i. 18), so that, when his body was found, all his bowels had gushed out. With the blood-money he had left in the Temple the chief priests were at first perplexed what to do. Though they had not scrupled to pledge it as the reward of the basest treachery, yet they were unwilling to return it to the Temple funds, and at length resolved to apply it to the purchase of a field for the burial of strangers, which was afterwards known as Aceldama (Acts i. 19), or the Field of Blood (Mtt. xxvii. 6–10; Zech. xi. 13).

Chapter VII. The Trial Before Pilate—The Condemnation. A.D. 30.

WHAT amount of knowledge Pilate already possessed of the Saviour’s person and character is not known. But he could not fail to have been surprised, on this occasion, at the earnest request so early in the morning to decide the question respecting the Teacher from Galilee. The deputation from the Sanhedrin would not enter his prætorium, lest they should incur pollution, and be unable to keep the Passover (Jn. xviii. 28). Yielding, therefore, to the popular custom, with political tact he came forth from his palace (Jn. xviii. 29), and enquired the nature of the accusation against the Redeemer.

At first they replied evasively, and as if they felt hurt at the question, If this fellow were not a malefactor we would not have delivered Him unto thee (Jn. xviii. 30). But this would not satisfy Pilate, and he replied ironically, Then take ye Him, and judge Him according to your law, as if anxious to refer the whole matter back to themselves. To this the Jews replied that it was not lawful for them to put any one to death (Jn. xviii. 31), and having thus intimated that the Redeemer had committed a crime, for which the punishment of death was due, artfully put forward a charge, which, as a Roman procurator, Pilate could not overlook. We found this fellow, said they, perverting our nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar, saying that He is Christ a King (Lk. xxiii 2).

Though Pilate must have known the Jews too well to imagine that the Sanhedrin would really hate and persecute One, whose sole crime was an anxiety to free them from the Roman power, he saw that the case could not be hastily put aside, involving as it did three grave charges; (i) seditious agitation, (ii) attempted prohibition of the payment of the tribute-money, and (iii) the assumption of the suspicious title of “King of the Jews.”

It was clearly necessary that he should at least examine the Accused, and, as a procurator, he was bound to conduct the examination himself.

Withdrawing, accordingly, with the Redeemer into the interior of the prætorium (Jn. xviii. 33), he began by enquiring, Art thou the King of the Jews? (Jn. xviii. 33; Mtt. xxvii. 11). To this the Holy One replied by asking the governor whether he put this question of himself, or at the suggestion of others (Jn. xviii. 34). Apparently offended at such a rejoinder, and disclaiming all communion with the prejudices of the Jews, Pilate responded that he was not a Jew; His own countrymen, and the ruling powers of the nation, had brought Him before his tribunal, what had He done?

Thus interrogated the Saviour replied by an assertion of the real nature of His kingdom: My kingdom, said He, is not of this world; had my kingdom been of this world, then would my servants have contended that I should not be delivered to the Jews: My kingdom is not from hence. Art Thou, then, a king? enquired the wondering governor. Thou sayest it, answered the Redeemer; for I am a King. For this purpose was I born, and for this purpose came I into the world, that I might bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth My Voice (Jn. xviii. 37, 38). These mysterious words from the lips of One, whose life seemed to be entirely at his mercy; this denial that He was a king in a worldly sense, and the implication that in another sense He was; this declaration that the object of His birth and of His life was to bear witness to the truth, increased the procurator’s perplexity. What is truth? he asked, partly in sadness, partly in irony, partly from a real inability to discern the connection of such an abstract matter with “the present question, with a question of life and death, with a capital charge brought by the national council before the supreme tribunal.” He could connect a kingdom with power, but not with truth.

The only sect Pilate could have ever heard of that believed in such a kingdom was the Stoics, and their opinions he would naturally regard as those of visionary enthusiasts. The Accused might be a dreamer, but certainly He was not one who had done anything deserving of the sword of the civil power, and going out to the Jewish deputation standing before the gate (Jn. xviii. 38), he declared his conviction of His innocence; he found no fault in Him (Lk. xxiii. 4).

But this was the signal for a furious clamour on the part of the chief priests and the members of the Sanhedrin. He stirreth up the people, they cried, teaching throughout all Judæa, beginning from Galilee even unto this place (Lk. xxiii. 5). Pilate thereupon turned once more to the Accused, and enquired what answer He had to give to these charges (Mtt. xxvii. 13). But the Holy One continued silent, and answered not a word. This increased still further the astonishment of the procurator (Mtt. xxvii. 14; Mk. xv. 5), but he fancied he had discovered an escape from the dilemma. The word Galilee had not escaped his ears (Lk. xxiii. 6). Galilee was in the jurisdiction of Herod-Antipas, who was now present in the city as a worshipper at the Feast (Lk. xxiii. 7), and by sending the case before him, he might at once rid himself of a troublesome responsibility, and conciliate one, with whom he had hitherto been on no friendly terms (Lk. xxiii. 12). Having assured himself, therefore, that the Accused was a Galilæan (Lk. xxiii. 6), he sent Him before Herod’s tribunal.

The tetrarch of Galilee, as we have seen before, had often heard of the Saviour, and had long desired to see Him (Lk. xxiii. 8). He was highly pleased, therefore, when informed who was awaiting an audience with him, and hoped his curiosity to see some sign of supernatural magical power might be gratified. With this view he put many questions to Him, but the Redeemer maintained an imperturbable silence. Meanwhile the chief priests and scribes, who had followed into the presence of Herod, persisted in their furious accusations. But neither their charges nor the questions of the tetrarch could induce the Holy One to utter a word. Provoked at being thus disappointed of the object of his hopes, Herod’s superstitious curiosity was exchanged for scorn. He did not venture indeed to condemn the Accused to death, and saw that there was nothing He had done which rendered Him liable to punishment, but he did not scruple to insult Him, and therefore handed Him over to his soldiers, amongst whom probably, as in his father’s body-guard, were Gaulish and Thracian barbarians, who treated the Holy One with every kind of indignity (Lk. xxiii. 11). This done, he sent Him back to the Roman procurator, clad in a purple robe, and the ill-feeling between the two was from that day exchanged for friendship (Lk. xxiii. 12).

Perplexed, as Pilate probably was, at finding the case thus thrown back upon his hands, he was more than ever convinced that the Holy One was entirely innocent of such grave charges as had been made against Him. He therefore summoned the chief priests and rulers of the people (Lk. xxiii. 13) together, and once more declared his conviction that their accusations could not be sustained, and added that in this he was fortified by the judgment of Herod also. He offered, however, to scourge Him before letting Him go (Lk. xxiii. 16).

This first symptom of weakness and irresolution was not lost upon the Jewish rulers, and their followers assembled before the prætorium, and the proposition merely to scourge the meek Sufferer found little favour with them. Pilate therefore resolved to try another method of making the proposed acquittal more acceptable.

It appears to have been a custom, the origin of which is wholly unknown, to release at the season of the Passover any prisoner whom the people might select. There was at this time in confinement a celebrated (Mtt. xxvii. 16) bandit, named Barabbas, who with others had committed murder in an insurrectionary tumult (Mk. xv. 7) in the city (Lk. xxiii. 18). The procurator therefore, in accordance with this custom, proposed to the Jews that they should select for release one of the two, either Barabbas, a condemned murderer and insurgent, or the Prophet of Nazareth. He saw clearly that it was envy of His fame and popularity (Mk. xv. 10) which had induced the ruling powers to accuse the Holy One, and he hoped by this appeal to the people to procure His release. Indeed so certain does he appear to have been that they would select for release One, whom thousands had so lately welcomed with loud Hosannas as their Messiah, that he ascended and sat down upon the judgment-seat as if to ratify and formally accept their decision (Mtt. xxvii. 19).

But at this moment, as if to increase his perplexity, an attendant approached bearing a message from his wife imploring him to have nothing to do with the just person (Mtt. xxvii. 19) standing before his tribunal. During the night she had probably been roused by the messengers of the high-priest requesting a Roman guard, and a fearful and harrowing morning (Mtt. xxvii. 19) dream concerning the righteous Prophet of Nazareth had induced her thus to appeal to her husband in His behalf.

Pilate’s feelings of awe and amazement were now intensified, and his determination to release his Prisoner increased. But the chief priests and the Sanhedrists had improved their opportunity while he was listening to his wife’s message, and when he composed himself afresh to receive their decision, he saw that malice and bitter, determined hatred had done their work. Persuaded by their teachers, the multitude cried out, Not this Man, but Barabbas. In vain the procurator tried to stem the torrent, in vain he expostulated (Mk. xv. 9), in vain he re-asserted his conviction of the innocence of the Accused. Loud clamour, and furious faces, and uplifted hands, told him that the feelings of the throng were excited beyond such efforts. Equally powerless was a solemn and significant action, by which he strove to represent in the most striking manner possible, how strongly he was convinced of the perfect innocence of the Holy One. Calling for water, he washed his hands publickly (Mtt. xxvii. 24) before the whole multitude, saying, I am guiltless of the blood of this Just Person: see ye to it. His blood be upon us and upon our children, was the frantic reply, and Pilate saw that further opposition would only increase the tumult (Mtt. xxvii. 25).

One hope, however, he still seems to have retained. Perhaps that tossing clamorous throng would be satisfied with the infliction of a punishment only less terrible than death. Perhaps the inhuman scourge of the Roman soldiers would be enough, without the penalty of crucifixion, for which so many were already clamorous. He gave the order, therefore, that He should be scourged, and appears to have again sat down on the judgment-seat while the command was carried into effect.

The soldiers executed his orders with their wonted severity, and then flung around the bleeding body of the Divine Sufferer a purple robe (Mtt. xxvii. 28; Jn. xix. 2), and placing a reed in His right hand (Mtt. xxvii. 29), and a crown of thorns upon His head, bowed the knee before Him, and in cruel mockery saluted Him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews (Mtt. xxvii. 29; Mk. xv. 18). Not satisfied with this outrage, they took the reed and struck Him with it on the head, and spat in His face (Mtt. xxvii. 30; Mk. xv. 19), and heaped upon Him every kind of indignity.

The scourging appears to have been inflicted within the prætorium (Mtt. xxvii. 27), and when it had been carried out, Pilate himself went and led forth the Sufferer wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe (Jn. xix. 4, 5), and presented Him to the people, saying, Behold the Man. Would not this spectacle of terrible suffering suffice? Could cruelty demand yet more? Crucify Him was the cry of the chief priests and their attendants (Jn. xix. 6). The sight of so much suffering so meekly borne drew forth no pity, and no relenting. Take ye Him, and crucify Him, replied the procurator; for I find no fault in Him. We have a law, rejoined the Jews, and by our law He ought to die, because He made Himself the Son of God.

These last words roused afresh all Pilate’s fears (Jn. xix. 8). Taking his bleeding, lacerated Prisoner once more within the prætorium he enquired anxiously, Whence art Thou? But the Holy One made him no reply. Startled by this continued silence the procurator asked whether He did not know that he had power to release Him, and power to crucify Him. Thou couldest have had no power at all against Me, was the mysterious reply, unless it had been given thee from above; therefore he that delivered Me unto thee hath the greater sin (Jn. xix. 11). This answer, so calm, so gentle, so full of mystery, made a deep impression on Pilate, already awed by the message of his wife, and still more by the infinite patience of the accused, and he resolved to make one last effort to release Him (Jn. xix. 12). But it was too late. A cry, far more formidable to himself than any he had yet heard, struck upon his ears: If thou let this Man go, cried the Jews, thou art not Cæsar’s friend: whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Cæsar (Jn. xix. 12). It was a crafty, well-chosen cry. Pilate knew that the Jews already had matter for accusation against him, and could well divine the consequences, if they accused him before the gloomy suspicious Tiberius of sparing a prisoner who had been accused of treason. Loss of place, degradation, banishment, perhaps a death by torture, stared him in the face. His fears for his own personal safety turned the scale. He must save himself, even though he sacrificed One whom he had confessed to be innocent. Once more, therefore, he took his seat upon the tribunal (Jn. xix. 13), but even now he could not resist the impulse to bid the Jews bethink themselves before it was too late. Behold your King, said he. His words were the signal for uproarious cries of Away with Him! Away with Him! Crucify Him! Shall I crucify your King? asked the procurator. We have no king but Cæsar, replied the chief priests (Jn. xix. 15), thus renouncing altogether the hope of the Messiah in order to satisfy their thirst for the Redeemer’s blood, and Pilate seeing it was useless to prolong the controversy, pronounced the word, the irrevocable word, Let Him be crucified (Joh. xix. 16).

Chapter VIII. The Crucifixion. A.D. 30.

THUS the Holy One was formally delivered into the hands of the soldiers, who instantly made their preparations for His crucifixion. The place of execution was a spot of slightly rising ground without the gates of the city, called, probably from the shape of its rounded summit, Golgotha, the place of a skull (Mtt. xxvii. 33; Jn. xix. 17). Thither, therefore, after stripping Him of the purple robe, and putting on Him His own garments (Mtt. xxvii. 31; Mk. xv. 20), the soldiers led Him forth bearing, as was customary, the Cross on which He was to suffer (Jn. xix. 17), attended by a centurion, and two malefactors who were to be crucified with Him (Lk. xxiii. 32).

As they proceeded from the city, the Redeemer, exhausted by the grievous sufferings He had already undergone, sank under the heavy weight of the Cross, and the soldiers meeting one Simon of Cyrene in Northern Africa, coming from the country, laid hold upon him, and compelled him to assist in bearing it (Mtt. xxvii. 32; Mk. xv. 21; Lk. xxiii. 26). And so the mournful procession was resumed, followed by a great multitude, amongst which many women began to utter loud laments at the sad spectacle. Turning to these daughters of Jerusalem the exalted Sufferer with superhuman composure bade them weep not for Him, but for themselves; for nameless sorrows awaited them, days when they would bless the wombs which had never borne, and the paps that had never given suck, when they would cry to the mountains to fall upon them, and to the hills to cover them (Lk. xxiii. 28–31).

On reaching the appointed place, the hole for the Cross was dug in the ground, and the customary stupefying potion of wine mingled with myrrh was offered to the Holy One. He touched it with his lips (Mtt. xxvii. 34), but would not drink it, being resolved to preserve His senses clear, and to endure all the coming agony in the full possession of His consciousness. Then the soldiers stripped Him of His garments, nailed His hands and feet to the Cross, placed over His head the title which Pilate had written in three languages, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin,

This is Jesus the Nazarene, the King of the Jews,

and between the two malefactors, one on His right hand and the other on His left (Isai. liii. 12), the Redeemer hung suspended between heaven and earth, breathing forth even under the hands of His murderers words of infinite love, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do (Lk. xxiii. 34).

It was now about the third hour (Mk. xv. 25), and the quaternion or party of four soldiers (Jn. xix. 23), with their centurion (Mtt. xxvii. 54), whose special duty it was to see that the bodies of those who suffered by crucifixion were not taken away, sat down and watched (Mtt. xxvii. 36). According to custom, the clothes of the Redeemer had become their perquisite. Of the outer garment they made four parts, probably loosening the seams. But the inner garment was without seam, woven from the top throughout (Jn. xix. 23). That they might not rend this garment, therefore, they drew lots for it whose it should be, and thus unconsciously fulfilled the words of the Psalmist, They parted My raiment among them; and for My vesture they did cast lots (Ps. xxii. 18; Jn. xix. 24).

While, however, the soldiers were thus employed, and the high-priests were busy wrangling with Pilate respecting the title he had placed upon the Cross, a few faithful ones had ventured to draw near the suffering Redeemer. Near His Cross stood His mother, His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene (Jn. xix. 25), and with them the Apostle John. Looking upon His mother, and seeing standing by her the disciple whom He loved, He said to her, Woman, behold thy son, and to the disciple, Behold thy mother, and from that hour the Apostle took her to his own home (Jn. xix. 27).

But soon others than these faithful ones drew near. The passers-by began to vent their mockery and bitter gibes upon The Redeemer. Some reminded Him in derision of His deep saying at the first Passover of His public ministry, and bade Him who could destroy the Temple and build it in three days, save Himself (Mtt. xxvii. 39, 40; Mk. xv. 29). Others, and especially the chief priests, bade Him if He was in truth the Son of God, the Messiah, and King of Israel (Mtt. xxvii. 42; Mk. xv. 32), come down from the Cross. The soldiers also took up their words, and drawing near offered Him in mockery their sour wine (Lk. xxiii. 36), and required Him, if, as His title portended, He was the King of the Jews, to deliver Himself, and soon even the crucified malefactors followed their example, and cast the same in His teeth (Mtt. xxvii. 44; Mk. xv. 32).

But as the weary time wore on, the feelings of one of the two, won over by the heroic bearing of the Saviour and His infinite patience, underwent a striking change. He began to reprove the other for his revilings (Lk. xxiii. 40). They indeed were suffering justly, and receiving the reward of their misdeeds, but the Holy One in their midst had done nothing amiss. This avowal, made amidst all His present agony and degradation, was a great step, but soon it led to another. The more the penitent malefactor reflected on the sinlessness of Him who hung beside him, the more he contrasted it with his own shortcomings, the more the light streamed into his soul, and at length the eye of faith opening to discern the invisible, and the conviction dawning upon him that this was his Lord, the true King of the Jews, he turned and said, Lord, remember me when Thou comest in Thy kingdom, and received the comforting reply, This day shalt thou be with Me in paradise (Lk. xxii. 43).

But now the greatest and most mysterious period of the Passion drew near. Already nature herself had begun to evince her sympathy with the awful scene that was being enacted. At the sixth hour, the hour of noon, the clearness of day began to be obscured. A fearful darkness gradually spread over the whole land (Mtt. xxvii. 45; Mk. xv. 33; Lk. xxiii. 44), and deepened in intensity till nearly the ninth hour, the hour of the evening sacrifice. Meanwhile the Holy One began to be sensible of the burning thirst, which is the most painful aggravation of a death by crucifixion, and gave expression to it in words (Jn. xix. 28). Close at hand stood a vessel full of vinegar, and one of the soldiers took a sponge, and filling it with the fluid put it on a hyssop-reed, and raised it to His lips. At this moment the Redeemer gave utterance to the prophetic words of the xxiind Psalm, in which, in the bitterness of his heart, David had complained of the desertion of his God, and said, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me? (Mk. xv. 34).

On hearing this exclamation, some of those standing near, either misapprehending His words, or in wilful mockery, declared that He called not on Eli, God, but on Elias, whose appearance was universally expected as the sign of the Messiah’s kingdom. They would, therefore, have waited to see whether the great prophet would really come (Mk. xv. 36), and would have arrested the compassionate hand that was raising the vinegar. But the moment of release was near. As soon as He had tasted the vinegar (Jn. xix. 30), the dying Redeemer cried with a loud voice, It is finished; Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit, and gave up the ghost.

These last words had hardly been uttered before a wondrous event took place in the Temple. The veil, the beautiful veil, inwrought with figures of Cherubim, which separated the Holy Place from the Most Holy, was suddenly rent in twain from the top to the bottom (Mtt. xxvii. 51; Mk. xv. 38; Lk. xxiii. 45), and at the same moment the earth trembled with the convulsion of an earthquake, and the rocks were rent, laying open many of the sepulchres with which they were perforated on all sides of the city (Mtt. xxvii. 52).

These marvellous incidents made a deep impression, not only on the centurion and his soldiers who had been stationed to watch the cross, but on the multitudes who had been spectators of all that had occurred, and the women and kinsmen of the Holy Sufferer who stood gazing afar off (Mtt. xxvii. 55; Mk. xv. 40). The people beating their breasts in deep but unavailing sorrow (Lk. xxiii. 48) began to pour back with fearful forebodings into the city, while the Roman officer, who though he had often looked upon death and its victims in various forms, had never witnessed such a death as this, under the influence of deep emotion testified that He, who had been condemned as a blasphemer, was indeed a righteous man (Lk. xxiii. 47), nay more, that He was in truth the Son of God (Mtt. xxvii. 54; Mk. xv. 39).

Chapter IX. The Burial and Resurrection. A.D. 30.

THE day was now far advanced. Unconscious that the true Paschal Lamb, the antitype of all previous sacrifices, had offered up Himself upon the altar of His Cross for the sins of the whole world, numerous bands of householders were gathering towards the Temple to slay their victims and make ready for the Feast. The morrow being a high day, at once the Sabbath and the solemn fifteenth of Nisan (Jn. xix. 31), the Jewish rulers would be more than usually anxious that the bodies of the Saviour and the two malefactors should not remain upon the cross, profaning the sanctity of their great national festival, and violating one of the strict injunctions of their law.

It was not indeed the Roman custom to remove the crucified from the cross. Instead of shortening their agonies the Roman law had left them to die by a lingering death, and suffered their bodies to moulder under the action of the sun and rain, or to be devoured by wild beasts. The more merciful Jewish custom, however, did not allow such barbarities, and their Roman masters had made an express exception in their favour. The Jewish rulers therefore repaired to Pilate, and requested that the legs of those on Golgotha might be broken and their bodies removed (Jn. xix. 31). The Procurator gave his consent, and the soldiers entrusted with the task repaired thither, and broke the legs of one malefactor and then of the other. When however, they came to the Body of Jesus, they found that He was dead already (Jn. xix. 33). Unconsciously fulfilling, therefore, the typical language of Scripture respecting the Paschal Lamb, which declared that not a bone of it should be broken (Ex. xii. 46; Ps. xxxiv. 20), and a prediction that men should look upon Him whom they pierced (Zech. xii. 10), they abstained from breaking His legs, but one of them, as if resolved to give a stroke of itself sufficient to cause death, thrust his spear into His side, whence immediately there flowed forth Blood and Water, a wondrous incident, of which the Evangelist St John was himself a spectator (Jn. xix. 35).

Meanwhile, before the tidings of the Saviour’s death could reach the ears of Pilate, Joseph of Arimathæa, a man of wealth (Mtt. xxvii. 57), a member of the Sanhedrin (Lk. xxiii. 50), and a secret disciple of Jesus (Jn. xix. 38), who had not consented to the cruel resolution of the rest to put Him to death (Lk. xxiii. 51), boldly went in to the Procurator, and requested that the Body of the Redeemer might be given up to him (Mk. xv. 43). Filled with astonishment that death had so speedily taken place, Pilate called in the centurion who had kept watch on Golgotha, and enquired whether this was really the case (Mk. xv. 44). Assured that it was so, he freely granted the request, and Joseph having purchased fine linen (Mk. xv. 46) repaired to Golgotha, to take down the Holy Body. Here he was joined by Nicodemus (Jn. xix. 39), who, probably informed of his successful petition to the procurator, had brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pound weight (Jn. xix. 39). Together, then, they took down the Body, wrapped it in the linen clothes, sprinkled the myrrh and aloes amongst them, and conveyed the Holy One to a tomb which was close at hand. It was a new tomb, wherein no man had ever yet been laid (Lk. xxiii. 53), and had been hewn by Joseph himself out of a rock in a garden, which he possessed hard by Golgotha (Jn. xix. 41). Hither they bore the Body, and in the presence of Mary Magdalene, Mary the Mother of Joses, and other women who had followed the Saviour during His lifetime from Galilee (Mtt. xxvii. 61; Mk. xv. 47; Lk. xxiii. 55), laid it in the receptacle, and with the utmost despatch, for the Sabbath was drawing on (Lk. xxiii. 54), rolled a great stone to the entrance, and departed.

Thus He, who all His life long had been the poorest of the poor, made His grave with the rich (Is. liii. 9), and received the anointing of the great ones of the earth. But though the outward temple of His body had been destroyed, the Pharisees and chief-priests could not forget the mysterious saying of His that in three days He would raise it up, and probably were not altogether unaware of the more direct assertions He had made to His Apostles respecting the same subject. These words now recurred to them with such alarming force that on the morning after the Crucifixion, though it was their great Paschal Sabbath, they met together, and repairing to the residence of Pilate, informed him of what that Deceiver had said, and requested that the sepulchre might be made secure till the third day, lest His disciples should come and steal Him away, and give out that He had risen (Mtt. xxvii. 63, 64).

With the curtness of one who felt himself fatigued and wearied out, the Procurator replied, Ye have, or rather, Take a watch, and make it secure as ye know how. Accordingly with the guard thus deputed they went their way, sealed the stone at the entrance of the sepulchre with their official seal in the presence of the soldiers, and then consigned to them the duty of watching the tomb of the Holy One.

Though both Joseph of Arimathæa and Nicodemus had assisted in embalming the Body of the Saviour, it had necessarily been done in haste, and the women who had witnessed the entombment resolved to complete it, and on the evening of the Crucifixion had prepared spices and ointments for that purpose (Lk. xxiii. 56). With these, then, early in the morning of the first day of the week, while it was yet dark (Jn. xx. 1), Mary Magdalene, Mary the Mother of James, and Salome (Mk. xvi. 1), set out for the sepulchre, their thoughts occupied on the way with the natural question who would roll away the great stone they had seen fitted into its appointed place (Mk. xvi. 3).

While they were thus musing, and, as it would seem, were as yet some distance from the sepulchre, the earth quaked beneath their feet with a mighty convulsion (Mtt. xxviii. 2), and an angel descended and rolled away the stone and sat upon it; his countenance was like lightning and his raiment white as snow, and before him the Roman sentinels fell prostrate for fear, and became as dead men (Mtt. xxviii. 3, 4).

Bewildered by the sudden earthquake, the women advanced nearer, and beheld the stone rolled away from the tomb (Mk. xvi. 4; Lk. xxiv. 2). Summoning courage two of them thereupon entered in (Lk. xxiv. 3), and became assured of the fact that the tomb was empty, that the Holy Body they had seen securely placed therein, was there no longer.

While, however, they were standing bewildered at this unexpected discovery, one of their number, Mary Magdalene, had already hurried back to Jerusalem. The sight of the stone rolled away had roused her worst apprehensions, and she could think of nothing but that the Body of her Lord had been taken away and the tomb violated. Resolved, therefore, to seek more effectual aid than such as weak women could afford, she ran with all speed to Simon Peter, and announced to him and the Apostle John, who was apparently with him, that the tomb was empty, and she and her companions of the morning knew not whither the Body of their Lord had been conveyed (Jn. xx. 2). On receiving this startling intelligence the two apostles forthwith set out towards the tomb (Jn. xx. 3), followed by Mary Magdalene herself (Jn. xx. 11).

Before, however, they reached the spot, the women who had remained behind, and who had ventured into the open sepulchre, had received other and still more startling tidings. As they were standing irresolute and bewildered by the sight of the empty tomb, there appeared to them two (Lk. xxiv. 4), or, as it seemed to others of their number, one of the heavenly host (Mk. xvi. 5) in mortal guise indeed but clad in glistering apparel, who announced to them, while ready to fall prostrate in alarm and terror, that their Lord was risen: there was no need for them to seek the living amongst the dead (Lk. xxiv. 5); He had told them that on the third day He should rise again (Lk. xxiv. 7), and thus His words were fulfilled; the spot, where they had seen Him laid, did not contain Him now (Mk. xvi. 6); let them, therefore, go to His Apostles, and announce the joyful tidings that their risen Lord was going before them into Galilee, and there they should see Him (Mtt. xxviii. 7).

Without losing a moment (Mtt. xxviii. 8), agitated at once by mingled fear and joy (Mk. xvi. 8), which sealed their lips to any whom they chanced to meet upon the road (Mk. xvi. 8), the women hurried with all speed to the Apostles, and recounted their cheering tidings (Lk. xxiv. 9). But in their deep sorrow (Mk. xvi. 10) the Eleven regarded the words of the women as no better than an idle tale (Lk. xxiv. 11), and could not credit their announcement, on which the latter, saddened it may be by their refusal to believe, returned once more to the sepulchre.

Meanwhile the two Apostles, Peter and John, had been running thither with all speed, to ascertain the truth of what they had heard from Mary Magdalene. Outrunning his fellow Apostle, John first reached the tomb, and stooping down saw the linen clothes lying there, but probably from feelings of awe entered not in. The characteristic energy of Peter overcame such feelings, and entering in he steadily contemplated the state of the sepulchre and the position of the grave-clothes; there lay the swathing-bands in one place (Jn. xx. 6); there was the napkin which had been about His head, not lying with the rest of the clothes, but folded up in another spot by itself. There was nothing to indicate disorder or confusion, or any violation of the tomb. Encouraged by the other’s boldness, the Apostle John also now ventured to enter in, and surveyed the condition of the sepulchre, and though as yet neither of them understood the announcements of the resurrection contained in the Scripture (Jn. xx. 9), yet he could not resist the evidence of his senses. The position of the grave-clothes precluded the idea that the Holy Body had been removed by enemies: he believed that his Lord had risen, and turned back towards Jerusalem with his fellow Apostle, who marvelled at what had taken place (Lk. xxiv. 12).

But these signs did not carry conviction to the mind of Mary, who had followed them, but more slowly. Unable to tear herself away from the sepulchre, she stood outside weeping (Jn. xx. 11), and stooping down beheld two angels in white standing, the one at the head, the other at the feet, where the body of her Lord had lain, who said to her, Woman, why weepest thou? She replied, They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him; and turning away even from their sympathy, beheld One standing near, in whom she did not recognise her Lord, but who repeated the angels’ question why she wept? Thinking it was the keeper of the garden, and that he could give her further information, she replied, Sir, if thou hast borne Him hence, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take him away (Jn. xx. 15). She had hardly spoken, when the Stranger addressing her in well-known intonations, said, Mary. Instantly she knew who He was. Prostrating herself before Him, she called Him in the Hebrew dialect Rabboni (Jn. xx. 16), and apparently in her bewildered joy sought to clasp the feet of His risen Body. But this might not be. The relations between herself and the mighty Conqueror of death were changed. Touch Me not, said He, for I am not yet ascended unto My Father: but go unto My brethren, and tell them, I am about to ascend to My Father, and your Father, to My God, and your God (Jn. xx. 17). And Mary went, and thus she, out of whom the Lord had cast seven demons, became the first messenger of His resurrection to His disciples.

Soon, however, the other women, who had brought the first tidings to the Apostles, and who appear to have also returned towards the sepulchre, were met by their risen Lord (Mtt. xxviii. 9), who saluted them with the word Hail. Thereupon they drew near and worshipped Him, and, like Mary Magdalene, were bidden to announce to His brethren the joyous news that He was going before them into Galilee (Mtt. xxviii. 10).

As they departed to execute His commands, certain of the Roman sentinels entered into the city and recounted to the chief priests all that had occurred (Mtt. xxviii. 11). On the receipt of this startling intelligence, a meeting of the Sanhedrin was convened, and it was resolved that by some means the miraculous disappearance of the Body of the Redeemer must be concealed. Accordingly the soldiers were called in, and by dint of heavy bribes (Mtt. xxviii. 14) persuaded to give out, that, while they were sleeping at their posts, the disciples had come and stolen away the Body of their Master, and this story obtained a very general circulation amongst the Jews.

Chapter X. The Great Forty Days and the Ascension. A.D. 30.

THUS the morning of the world’s first Easter-day passed away, and the risen Saviour had revealed Himself to Mary Magdalene and the other ministering women.

Early in the same afternoon two of the disciples, Cleopas and another, whose name is not recorded, set out from Jerusalem in the direction of the village of Emmaus (Lk. xxiv. 13). As they went, they conversed earnestly about the events that had so lately occurred in the Holy City, and that with heavy hearts, for every hope was buried in their Master’s grave. While they were thus engaged, He of whom they spake drew near, and accompanying them along the road began to enquire the meaning of their sorrowful looks, and of the earnest conversation they were holding with one another. Not recognising Him (Comp. Lk. xxiv. 16; Mk. xvi. 12), and surprised that even a stranger at Jerusalem could be ignorant of the event which filled their hearts and had stirred their whole capital, they proceeded to give full vent to their disappointed hopes. Jesus of Nazareth, they said, had appeared amongst them, and had proved Himself a Prophet, mighty both in word and deed, before God and all the people; they had joined themselves to Him in the full belief that He was the long promised Redeemer of Israel, but their chief priests and rulers had condemned and crucified Him, and three days had now passed since His death: some women, indeed, of their company had gone to His tomb early that morning, and had returned with the mysterious tidings that His Body had disappeared, and that they had seen a vision of angels, who declared that He was alive, and on this certain disciples had repaired thither also and found that the Body indeed had disappeared, but they had not seen their risen Lord (Lk. xxiv. 19–24).

Such was the touching record of their deep disappointment. But to their surprise it evoked serious reproof instead of sympathy from their companion. O foolish, and slow of heart to believe all that the Prophets have spoken, said He: ought not the Messiah to have suffered these things, and to have entered into His glory? and then beginning from Moses and all the Prophets He expounded to them in all the Scriptures the things relating to the Messiah’s work and person (Lk. xxiv. 26, 27).

Meanwhile the hours had sped quickly, and by the time He had finished speaking, the two disciples found themselves close to Emmaus (Lk. xxiv. 28). Their Companion appeared to be going further, but they could not bear the idea of parting with One, who had opened up such new fields of hope. Abide with us, said they earnestly; the day is far spent, and it is towards evening; nor did they cease till they had constrained Him to enter their abode (Lk. xxiv. 28, 29).

There they quickly prepared an evening meal, and their Companion, assuming the office of “Master of the House,” took bread, and pronouncing probably the grace, with which the Jews commenced their meals, proceeded to distribute it amongst them (Lk. xxiv. 30). But while so doing, the tone of His voice, or some well-known gesture, or, it may be, the marks of the nails in His hands, revealed to them who He was. Their eyes were opened and they recognised Him, and at the same moment He vanished out of their sight (Lk. xxiv. 31).

Certain now who it was that on the road had caused their hearts to burn within them, as He talked with them and opened up the Scriptures, they instantly hurried back, though it was dark, to Jerusalem, and ascended to the upper-room, where the Apostles and others were assembled with closed doors for fear of the Jews (Lk. xxiv. 33; Jn. xx. 19). They thought they were the bearers of strange and welcome tidings. But their companions had equally joyous news for them. The Lord was risen indeed, and by a special appearance had revealed Himself to the repentant Simon (Lk. xxiv. 34; comp. 1 Cor. xv. 5).

Then they told their tale, and suddenly, while they yet were speaking, and perhaps replying to the others’ doubting questions, the Lord stood in their midst (Lk. xxiv. 36; Jn. xx. 19), and saluted them with the words, Peace be unto you. Terrified by so sudden an apparition, they imagined that they beheld a spectre or phantom, and shrunk back. But He calmed their fears. Why are ye troubled, He enquired, and why do thoughts arise in your hearts? Behold My hands and My feet, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see Me have. But though He shewed them His hands and His side (Jn. xx. 20), their joy still struggled with unbelief (Lk. xxiv. 41) and bewilderment, on which He enquired whether they had anything to eat, and when they gave Him a piece of a broiled fish and of an honeycomb, the remains probably of their evening meal, He took and ate in their presence (Lk. xxiv. 42, 43). Then with the reiterated salutation, Peace be unto you (Jn. xx. 21), He proceeded, As the Father hath sent Me, even so send I you; and with these words He breathed on them and said, Receive ye the Holy Ghost: whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted; and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained (Jn. xx. 23).

On the evening, however, of this first Easter-day, when the risen Saviour thus manifested Himself to the Apostles, and bestowed upon them the firstfruits of the effusion of the Holy Spirit, one of their number, Thomas, was not present. Why he was not has been much debated. Some suppose it was owing to an accident. Others imagine that he had thrown away all hope, that he had concluded it was impossible that his crucified Lord could ever revive. Certain it is that he was not with the rest in their wonted place of meeting. When, therefore, he was informed by the others of the wondrous appearance in the upper-room, he utterly refused to believe it. Unless, said he, I shall see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into His side, I will not believe (Jn. xx. 25). Slow of faith, subject to despondency, ever ready to take the darker view of things, and to distrust extraordinary good news all the more because it was good, he could not accept the evidence of his fellow Apostles in so weighty a matter as the resurrection of his Lord, he must see and touch Him for himself.

Seven days passed away, and no recorded appearance of the risen Saviour was vouchsafed. On the eighth, the first day of the week, the Apostles were again assembled in the upper-room. On this occasion Thomas was not absent. Hope probably had revived, and he expected some removal of his doubts. While, then, the doors were shut as before from fear of the Jews, suddenly the familiar words, Peace be unto you (Jn. xx. 26), struck on the astonished ears of the assembled Eleven, and their risen Lord stood in their midst. Knowing all things, knowing therefore all the hesitation and doubt of His apostle, with infinite condescension He gave him the required sign. Thomas, said He, reach hither thy finger, and see My hands, and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into My side, and be not faithless but believing (Jn. xx. 27).

Whether the Apostle touched his Lord or not is not recorded. The impression is that he did not. But whichever was the case, certain it is that the effect upon him was instantaneous. All his doubts fled away like the morning mist. In the fulness of believing faith, he exclaimed, My Lord and my God. Because thou hast seen Me, replied the ever-merciful One, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen Me, and yet have believed (Jn. xx. 29).

At some period after this last appearance, though when exactly we are not told, obedient to their Lord’s repeated commands, the Apostles returned to the region of Galilee and the familiar neighbourhood of the lake of Gennesaret. Here once more amidst old haunts, and quiet scenes of nature, some of them resumed, probably for the sake of their daily sustenance, their former occupations as fishermen; and on one occasion, seven of their number, Peter, Thomas, Nathanael Bar-Tolmai, James, John, and two others, whose names are not mentioned, entered into a boat at eventide and plied their craft (Jn. xxi. 1–3). Hour after hour passed away, and still they toiled but took nothing. Just, however, as the morning broke (Jn. xxi. 4), and the sun bursting forth began to reveal distinctly each cleft and broken cliff down the rocky sides of the hills fringing the lake, a Voice was heard through the still morning air, saying, Children, have ye any meat? They answered, No. Thereupon the Voice spake again, Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and ye shall find (Jn. xxi. 6).

Ready after the ill success of the previous night “to take any suggestion by whomsoever offered,” they did so, and straightway found themselves unable to drag the net in again by reason of the multitude of the fish they had enclosed. Awakened partly by the incident itself, partly perhaps by the Voice of the Stranger, to the recollection of a former and similar experience (Lk. v. 5), the Apostle John felt sure He knew who was standing on the beach, and said to Simon Peter, It is the Lord (Jn. xxi. 7). Instantly the son of Jonas, eager, ardent, impetuous as of old, girding his fisher’s coat about him, flung himself into the lake, and by swimming and wading reached the shore, followed by the rest in the boat dragging the net with the fish they had caught.

On landing they not only found themselves in the presence of their risen Lord, but perceived mysterious provision made for their wants after the wearying night. On the smooth margin of the lake was a fire of charcoal, and fish laid thereon and bread, and the Redeemer bade them add to these some of the fish they had just brought to land. In obedience to this command Peter drew the net to shore, and brought of the fish, which numbered a hundred and fifty and three (Jn. xxi. 11), and then all sat down to the early morning meal as in former days, when dwelling with Him by the shore of that same lake. And now too, as at Emmaus, the risen Saviour as Master of the family took of the bread and fish, and distributed unto them, while they, filled with reverential awe, though certain that it was He, did not venture to question Him with regard to the exact “state of His holy personality.”

When the meal was over, turning to the Apostle Peter the risen Saviour enquired, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou Me more than these? Yea, Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee, replied the Apostle, but not as on the sad evening of the Betrayal, exalting himself on his own faithfulness above his fellow-disciples (Jn. xxi. 15). Feed My lambs, responded his Lord. A second and yet a third time was the question repeated, till the Apostle touched probably by this reminder of his three denials, and flinging himself on the Omniscience of the Holy One made answer, Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I love Thee. Once more the command Feed My sheep was given, and thus the Apostle was restored to his old place in the circle of the Twelve (Jn. xxi. 16, 17).

But this was not all. The Apostle was to learn what great things he must suffer for the Master, who had thus reinstated him in his Apostolic office. When thou wast young, the Lord continued, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not (Jn. xxi. 18). And with this intimation of the death that awaited the Apostle, of a day when he should be bound to the cross, and his hands be extended upon it, He added, Follow Me, i.e. even unto that martyr’s death for His name which He had just foretold. Apparently not understanding the meaning of the command, the Apostle interpreted it literally, and while advancing perceived the “loved disciple” also following, and filled with a desire to know what lot awaited him, enquired, Lord, and what shall this man do? (Jn. xxi. 21). But the question, whatever was its precise motive, was gently put by: If I will that he tarry till I come, replied the Saviour, what is that to thee? Follow thou Me; which intimation of long tarrying in store for St John, in contrast to the sharper discipline for which his fellow Apostle was destined, originated the mistaken idea that the “loved disciple” was to leave the world without undergoing the penalty of death (Jn. xxi. 23).

This was the third occasion on which the Saviour appeared to His Apostles after His resurrection, and it was probably now that He gave them specific directions respecting a manifestation to a still larger assembly, which was not long delayed. For apparently a short time after this last appearance, the Eleven repaired to a mountain in Galilee which He Himself had indicated (Mtt. xxviii. 16), and there He appeared not only to them but in all probability to the five hundred brethren of whom St Paul speaks (1 Cor. xv. 6). Even now some doubted whether they were really beholding their Lord (Mtt. xxviii. 17), but the Eleven no sooner saw Him than they offered Him their reverent adoration (Mtt. xxviii. 17), which He accepted, and declared that now all power was given Him in heaven and in earth, and at the same time gave them His great commission;

Go ye into all the world, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them into the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have told you, and lo! I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world (Mtt. xxviii. 19, 20; Comp. Mk. xvi. 15–18).

And now the great Forty Days (Acts i. 3) were rapidly drawing to a close. Warned it may be by the Saviour Himself, or attracted by the near approach of the festival of Pentecost, the Apostles and their companions left Galilee and returned to Jerusalem. There once more amidst the scene of His late sufferings they saw their risen Lord, and for the last time received from His own Divine lips instruction in the things concerning the kingdom of God, and learned to trace in the prophetic Scriptures, in the Law, and in the Psalms, intimations of the sufferings and resurrection of the Messiah (Lk. xxiv. 44–48). There too they received His last command to remain in Jerusalem (Acts i. 4) till the promise of the Eternal Father should receive its accomplishment, and they should be baptized with the Holy Ghost, and endued with power from on high (Acts i. 5; Lk. xxiv. 49).

At last one day He bade them accompany Him along the road towards Bethany and the Mount of Olives (Lk. xxiv. 50), associated with so many memories of the risen Lazarus, of the Triumphal Entry, and the last sad days in His earthly life.

Convinced that something mysterious was about to happen, and with their carnal hopes still set on the idea that He was about to commence His long-looked for reign, they began to enquire, Lord, wilt Thou at this time restore the kingdom to Israel (Acts i. 6)? But their enquiries were solemnly silenced. It was not for them to know the times or the seasons, which the Father had put in His own power. A time was at hand when, on the descent of the Holy Spirit, they should receive power, and become witnesses to their Lord in Jerusalem, and all Judæa, in Samaria, and unto the uttermost parts of the earth (Acts i. 8).

Thus conversing they followed Him even to the borders of the district of Bethany, to one of the secluded hills which overhang the village of Bethany on the Eastern slope of Olivet. There they received His last solemn and abiding blessing (Lk. xxiv. 50), and while His hands, bearing the marks of the wounds which man had inflicted, were yet uplifted in benediction (Lk. xxiv. 51), He began to be parted from them, and there came a cloud (Acts i. 9), in which slowly and gradually He rose from Olivet, till at length He was lost to sight, and ascended up to that highest heaven, where He was in the glory of the Father before the world was.

Long time stood the Eleven looking wistfully upwards, and watching Him as He receded more and more from view (Acts i. 10). At length two angelic beings clad in white apparel addressed them, saying, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus, who hath been taken from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven (Acts i. 11).

And then all was over. With hearts subdued and solemnized the Apostles returned to the Upper Room at Jerusalem, and there continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with His brethren (Acts i. 14).